Mick Moran (Villa Mick)

[Mike Newton]

Over the last few weeks I've put a little time into finding some more of the crew. I've trawled white pages and phone directories worldwide, FriendsReunited and even Director and Credit Reference systems. With just a surname and initial and a town name of where they lived 30 years ago it has not been easy: These were all young men who went to sea to see the world, and unlikely to settle for a life rooted in one place. But I have been quite lucky so far. I found Charles Black, Len Dury and David Currie with just four phone calls.I dialled another 10 numbers or so before I found George Fink, through his mother and sister. Again I did some research and got Mick Moran's home, first time. I now believe I'm close to finding Paul Stewart. Each one of them has a story to tell.

I remember Mick Moran being a tall, friendly Brummie (from Birmingham). In a crew of mainly Scots, he was very much an individual. With a smattering of freckles over his nose, a stud in one ear (awfully unconventional in those days!) and a sparkling sense of fun he was always a leading character amongst the cadets. His Brummie accent and ardent following of Aston Villa Football Club always contributed to the banter on the ship.

His letter, which he wrote to his mother after the rescue, was characteristically animated and remains one of the most succinct reports of that night. He wrote:

“Well, I don’t know exactly where to start, but I’ve had a fairly action packed 24 hours.

At about 7.30pm last night I was sitting doing my college work when an announcement came over the tannoy that a distress signal had been sighted and all Senior Cadets were to report to the Port lifeboat. What it turned out to be was a tiny boat, crammed with 346 Vietnamese refugees who’d had no food or water for three days, and their boat was knackered.

The sea was only Force 5/6 but there was a massive swell and most of us in the lifeboat were violently sick before long. It took about 20 minutes in the boat to reach them and when we got there we couldn’t believe our eyes. The boat was only about 30-40 feet in length and it was crammed with people. They were everywhere –you could hardly see the boat! After several attempts to go alongside we finally got close enough for a few of them to jump in and throw or pass down the babies. One of the women passed me down a tiny baby and the poor little devil wouldn’t let go of me, it was like fly-paper.

All of this time the swell was crashing our boat into theirs and we were rising and falling 12 feet as the refugees were trying to board us. At first they were reluctant to come. I can’t blame them either as it was very dangerous to step from one boat to the other when one second they were level, then they were at different heights of about 12 feet, then they would crash together. We took about 20 off and back to the ship, then had the same problem again getting them off.

As the folk were coming aboard they were trying to hug and kiss us but all we were interested in doing was getting them low in the boat because we were bouncing everywhere. It really made me feel like a super-hero. After three such trips we decided to try to get a line aboard the boat and tow her back to the ‘Wellpark’, but we couldn’t get them to understand what we were trying to do. Eventually we got them a line and got her back to the ‘Wellpark’ where we had even more trouble getting them off. The smaller ones were hauled up on ropes and as the ship rolled they bounced off the ship’s side as they were dragged up. But all through I didn’t hear one child cry. It just shows the hardships these people have been through. Some of them speak English and said that they thought they were going to die as they had been drifting without food and water for three days and they said that they couldn’t believe it when they saw us and we came to help them.

I couldn’t believe the number of them that came off the one boat. Just now we have them all living on number five hatch so we’ve got our own shanty town on board. It was about 5 o’clock this morning before I got to my bed due to helping get all these people onto the ship safely and settling them down with blankets, and I’ve been working since 12 on deck. It’s now 6pm, and I’m due on the 8-12 again in two hours.

It has been a marvellous 24 hours though and it gives you a sense of achievement to know that if it wasn’t for the ‘Wellpark’ 346 people would be dead or as good as. I must admit that at first I was frightened, even terrified, as I was hanging on for grim death when the boat was thrown about by the high seas. Once we got to these people though and we actually had a boat full of children to look after we were so busy trying to keep them in the boat and safe I had no time to be frightened for myself. The sheer relief and joy of their faces made me feel like Father Christmas and Batman rolled into one.”

[Angie Nguyen]

Thanks Mike - you're doing a fantastic job at finding your old crew mates! I loved reading Mick's letter you posted up. His super hero comments made me smile.