THE SINKING OF THE OCEANOS - 4th of August, 1991: April 2015

Sunday, April 26, 2015

A Greek Hero ...

I get so tired of people stereotyping - Your nationality doesn't make you who you are - so many people have slated the Greeks in my posts on this blog, however I know there are so many Greek sailors that helped out when the Oceanos Sank, and if it were not for these Greek sailors I am sure a lot of lives would have been lost, especially of those who went in the life boats. Just because the Captain was a yellow Coward is no reflection on his nationality, why a lot of those that jumped ship in the first life boats that were half empty and also raided the cabins were in fact Philipino's and other nationalities too.

So it was so nice to read this story on MSN news this morning:

http://www.msn.com/en-ie/news/other/migrant-boat-crisis-the-story-of-the-greek-hero-on-the-beach/ar-BBiGCh8?ocid=SKY2DHP

Welcome

Hi, My name is Rose, I am one of the Survivors of the Oceanos which sank off Coffee Bay on the Wild Coast of South Africa on August the 4th, 1991. As one of the largest rescues in maritime history I was rescued by helicopter 2 hours before she sank but you can read my story here. I have created this blog in memory of the Oceanos and all who sailed on her.

If you have a story to tell, please email it to me and I will put it up on this blog. Should you wish to use any material from this blog please email me for permission. Enjoy reading!

"The boy stood on the burning deck" - Felicia Hemans (1793 - 1835)

The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm;A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.

The flames rolled on–he would not go Without his Father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud–'say, Father, say If yet my task is done?'He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son.

'Speak, father!' once again he cried, 'If I may yet be gone!'And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair,And looked from that lone post of death In still yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud, 'My father! must I stay?'While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapt the ship in splendour wild, They caught the flag on high,And streamed above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound– The boy–oh! where was he?Ask of the winds that far around With fragments strewed the sea!–

With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part–But the noblest thing which perished there Was that young faithful heart.