Lookingaround,Tanyasaid:“Isthis
ship listing?”
Debrarepliedthat,ifitwas,itwas
probablyduetothebadweather.
The vessel’s departure, which had been
scheduled for 3pm, was delayed in the
hope that the wind would abate.
Arumourspreadamongthecrewthat
they wouldn’t be sailing owing to the bad
weather. Some yelled excitedly, thinking
they’d stay ashore for the night and have
some fun.
Buttwohourslater,anddespite6-10m
wavesforecastatsea,CaptainYiannis
Avranasdecidedtosail.Heorderedthe
enginestobestartedataround5pm.
Whentheshipheadedoutofport,
itwasverymuchagainstthewillof
the junior crew members – the general
consensus was that their captain was
crazy.T
HELeRichefamilywereamong
those heading up for the sec-
ond dinner sitting at around
8.30pm.
They found the crew in
the dining room
scurrying around, trying to
straighten things up and
serve food without spilling it.
Far from finding the situa-
tion stressful, the Le Riches,
none of whom had suc-
cumbedtoseasickness,were
still abuzz with excitement
and considered the chaos
just part of the adventure.
Every time the ship rolled,
somethingelsefellsomewhereinthe
dining room, and when a cupboard flew
open and a stack of crockery crashed to
the floor, the Greek waiters just lookedon, making no attempt to clear it up.
“Typical,” joked Debra. “The Greeks
will break plates at any opportunity.” The
family roared with laughter.
A waiter turned to her, unamused:
“Madam,” he said, “it’s much worse than
you think.”
After dinner she asked one of the crew
if it would be safe to leave the children in
their cabin while she and her husband
watched a show.
“Yes, ma’am,” the young Filipino atten-
dant said, confidently. “They’ll be fine.
Ve r y g o o d s h i p .”
By now the Oceanos had been sailing
for more than four hours, yet there’d been
no safety drills for passengers. Had any-
one needed to know where their life jack-
ets were stowed, they wouldn’t have had
the faintest idea.
Down below the powerful diesel en-
gines were still turning valiantly, strain-
ing in the massive seas. Close by in the
auxiliary engine room, engineers were
toiling over the sewage system, trying to
unblock a clogged pipe. It was hard work
in the hot, enclosed space. Water and
muck had spilled onto the floor, and
there was a terrible gagging stench.
Suddenly, a huge wave crashed against
the port-side hull, sending the engineers
reeling. Struggling to regain their footing,
they heard an ear-splitting roar as the sea
chest ripped off the inside hull and water
gushed through a half-metre wide hole
into the space where they were working.
The sea chest is a steel box through
which piping systems draw water from
the ocean for cooling and other purpos-
es through a grating connected to the
outside of the ship. The chest is usually
welded onto the inside of the hull.
But it’s suspected the one on the
Oceanos may have been corroded and
that a particularly big wave caused it
to come loose, exposing a
huge hole through which
volumes of seawater were
now gushing.
Pandemonium ensued.
Chief engineer Panayiotis
Fines fought his way through
the water to the dislodged
sea chest and futilely tried
to force it back into place,
slashing his inner arms in
the attempt.
The engineers knew they couldn’t stop
the flood; the floor was already ankle
deep in water and the level was rising
rapidly. Fines called up to the bridge andThe Oceanos
had been
sailing for
more than four
hours, yet
there’d been no
safety drills
BELOW: The Oceanos balances briefly on the ocean bed before toppling
and disappearing into the sea off the Wild Coast. ABOVE: A view of
the stricken cruise liner from aboard one of the rescue helicopters.
The boat ran into trouble in 1991 while en route to Durban from
East London.GALLO IMAGES/GETTY IMAGES, SUPPLIED, MOSS HILLS
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