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

Monday, January 23, 2012

Radio Show on CBC Radio 1 - January 22nd, 2011

I was privileged to be contacted for an interview on Radio 1, you can listen to myself and Moss Hills being interviewed here: http://www.cbc.ca/video/player.html?clipid=2189319178&position=10588&site=cbc.news.ca ...... From about 1:10 (1 hour, 10 minutes)

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Moss Hills

Moss Hill is one of the heroes from the Oceanos, in fact Moss was the person that put the harness over me and therefore personally saw to it that I was air lifted to safety from the Oceanos. Without Moss I would not be here today to tell the story, Moss so many of us owe you our lives for being there to orchestrate the rescue operation.

No medal can actually do justice for the way that you personally touched each of our lives, and a simple "Thank You" just does not seem enough, however your name will go down in History just like "Wolraad Woltemade" and centuries from now, people will be talking about Moss Hills and the Oceanos and how he rescued over 500 people from a doomed ship off the Wild Coast of South Africa!

THANK YOU MOSS - You can link to Moss's website here: http://www.oceanossinking.com/

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.