Heavy seas hitting the coasts of Britain in stormy weather are seen frequently on television, but I shall never forget the gales that hit the East Coast in 1960.

Large waves were nothing new to me. When I served on an aircraft carrier during the Second World War we once ran into a terrific gale in the Mediterranean which made our flight deck rise and fall like a demented rocking horse. I was seasick seven times one night! When I went on my honeymoon to Blackpool in January 1950 the seas that broke over the promenade smashed lamp standards and sent heavy benches sliding along the tram lines in sheets of spray.

It was at Scarborough, though, where I saw the sea’s most spectacular display. I had taken my wife and three-year-old daughter to Whitby for the day and as high tide approached in the late afternoon gale-force winds sent massive waves rolling into the harbour and prevented any boats from leaving the crowded quays.

We drove over the moors to Scarborough under darkening clouds and found enormous seas breaking against the promenade near the town’s ancient castle. Some motorists tried to dodge the large waves but were not always successful.

I saw one Ford Anglia with two people inside picked up by a deluge of grey water and pitched against a stone wall on the landward side of the Marine Drive. Police in a Land-Rover threw them a rope and dragged the battered car to safety.

Then the road, now completely awash, was closed to all motorists. Colossal walls of water were towering higher than the lamp standards that shook and quivered in the screaming wind.

I climbed up the grassy slope below the castle to take a few photographs before the light faded. Later that evening the Scarborough lifeboat was launched to aid a couple of yachts in trouble off Filey Brigg.

My little daughter thought it was all terribly exciting, but I was only too well aware of the peril that so many British seamen were facing. The contribution I made to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution the following morning was well-intentioned but, I felt, woefully inadequate.

Peter Clowes