The R.N.I.P.L.S. Silver Medal awarded to Coxswain John Storr, of the Whitby Lifeboat, who died in the ‘Whitby Disaster’ of 9 February 1861

Royal National Institute for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck, G.IV.R., silver (John Storr, voted 7 July 1853) with eyelet and ring suspension, edge bruise, good very fine £800-1000

John Storr, a Fisherman, from Whitby, North Yorkshire.

‘The Wreck and Reward Sub Committee on 30 May 1853 recommended a grant of two sovereigns be voted in aid of the fund being collected for the relief of John Storr who had been made a cripple by being thrown out of his boat while going to a wreck in September 1851. On advising the authorities of this award, the reply came that “Storr had on several occasions distinguished himself in saving life from wreck, and that £23 had been collected for him”. The Institution therefore decided to award the Silver Medal’ (Ref. Lifeboat Gallantry, by B. Cox).

The ‘Whitby Disaster’


At Whitby, North Yorkshire, a fierce gale which at times had reached hurricane level, had whipped up the seas to a violent pitch. About an hour after dawn on 9 February 1861, the brig John and Ann, of Sunderland, was driven ashore at Sandsend to the north of Whitby. In the vicinity, but at some distance from where the Whitby lifeboat was stationed, were seven members of the Whitby lifeboat crew, including their coxswain, local fisherman, John Storr. These men at once launched a fishing cobble and despite the prevailing conditions, succeeded in rescuing the crew of five. Having accomplished this, they then set off to the lifeboat station correctly assuming that their services would be required again before the day was out.

Having reached Whitby and the new West Pier lifeboat, the Lucy, Storr and his crew of eleven at about 10.00 a.m. were called upon to go to the aid of the schooner Gamma, carrying coal, which had been driven ashore some 400 yards from the pier. Launching from the slipway into a heavy surf, they took off the crew of four. Shortly afterwards the Lucy was called out again to the barque Clara, en route from Newcastle to Madeira, which had been driven on to the beach just before noon. The crew took to the rigging as tumultuous seas swept clean over her. With great difficulty the last of her crew of 12 was taken off just before the ship broke up and disappeared. At about 1.00 p.m. the brig Utility and the schooner Roe were driven ashore.

The lifeboat was launched for the third time and both crews were rescued in one trip. Then at about 2.00 p.m. two schooners were sighted through the welter of spume and flying water, being driven ashore under bare poles. The first, the Flora, by luck or great management passed through the harbour entrance. However the Merchant came ashore no more than 40 yards from the pier.

The crew took to the rigging, with the sea ‘making clean breaches over them’. The sea was full of wreckage, with ship’s timbers being tossed around like matchsticks as huge waves swept in and high water was expected at 3.57 p.m. It was a daunting prospect even for John Storr, whose initial reaction was that a launch would serve no useful purpose. However he formulated a plan, though fraught with peril, which offered sufficient chance of success to make the risk worthwhile to get to the Merchant.

The men of the lifeboat were exhausted, and many were without sustenance since breakfast, but they launched for the fifth time. Vast waves driving shoreward met others rebounding off wrecks or the pier, making the sea a boiling cauldron. The lifeboat was some 50 yards from the slipway when, to the horror of the many watching from the land, the lifeboat was struck by two heavy waves and capsized, flinging the crew into the violent maelstrom. Life-buoys were flung and rocket lines were fired to the men in the sea by those nearby on land. One by one they sank. John Storr alone managed to scramble face down onto the upturned hull. The sea clawed at him. Eventually he was spun on to his back and, after hanging on for a few moments, he too was swept to his death. When his body was recovered it was discovered he had a broken arm, and the Leeds Intelligencer aired the theory that he had sought to strengthen his grasp by thrusting his arm into a hole in the hull.

Only one man - Henry Freeman, was saved - notably he was the only crewman who was wearing a cork life-preserver belt. For his courageous services on that day, he was awarded the R.N.I.P.L.S. Silver Medal.

Of the men trying to rescue the lifeboat men, a Mr Thomas Robinson was most prominent. Getting onto the upturned boat he with others tried to break though the hull to possible survivors trapped beneath. But in trying to hack their way through with a hatchet, Mr Robinson’s hand was struck, disabling him for life. Eventually the crew of the Merchant were successfully brought ashore by rocket line.

Later the brig Urania was driven ashore but the crew were able to maintain their precarious position aboard the vessel until the tide abated. Four hours later came yet another shipwreck when the Tribune was driven ashore near the West Pier. In the darkness the old East Side lifeboat was rowed across the harbour, lifted onto the West Pier and launched with a crew of volunteers who managed to rescue all but one of the crew.

In John Storr, Whitby lost a man described as the best lifeboatman the town ever had. Of him it was said, ‘If John Storr would take charge, the men did not consider any risk too great for his steady watchful eye and powerful arm.’

The Rev. W. Keane, incumbent of Whitby, wrote an appeal in The Times on behalf of the bereaved, which included 44 children and 2 dependants. As a result £5,000 was raised and a commemorative monument erected in the Parish Church, bearing the names of the 12 gallant men. (Ref. Portrait of a Lifeboat Hero, the Story of Henry Freeman of Whitby, by M. Barker.)

Sold with copied research, copied photograph of John Storr, Church monument, Storr’s grave and modern photographs of the launch slipway and harbour pier.