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

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

TV Program

I just go all the details from Vince about the screening of the TV Program, here they are:

The show will be broadcast in prime time on Friday the 6th of april at 9 PM
on the n°1 channel TF1 in France.

Their website is: http://www.tf1.fr/

He will send me a DVD though and I can hopefully get a few clips up onto the web page, else have a few copies made for all my adoring fans (that's a joke).

Sunday, February 25, 2007

The Oceanos - My story revisited

I created this blog page on the 23rd of July in the hope that survivors and rescuers may contribute towards keeping the blog going. However, so far beside Michael getting in touch with me I have not had much input or feedback to this site, until now.

Vincent from Channel one in France, read my blog and is coming over to Ireland on Thursday the 1st of March in order to do an interview. Vincent has a program in which the tell stories about people who end up in crisis situations, but it all ends up happy. I can only imagine that I will more than likely be dubbed into French and won't get to see it in Ireland but will definitly ask if I can get a copy and maybe even be able to put it up on the blog.

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.