Vandam Dinh

Future

August 4, 2024 — 8 minutes.

A couple months ago I was watching a James Scholz video, he mentioned something about writing his own autobiography as a method of journalling - I thought that was pretty cool. I'm 99.99999% sure he talked about it, but I'm unsure in what video. This idea has been at the very back of my mind since then.

To me, writing an autobiography seemed pretty daunting. I didn't know where to start. After lots of thought and research, I'm happy to showcase a beautiful butterfly effect leading up to my life.

She sells seashells by the seashore

A portrait of Marcus Samuel, 1902.

This story begins with oil. You've probably heard of the Suez Canal right? This canal was formed in 1869, it enabled ships travelling between Europe and Asia to pass through Egypt without having to go alllll the way down to South Africa.

In 1897, Marcus Samuel and his brother Samuel Samuel This is not a typo, he's really called that! founded the Shell Transport and Trading Company. Back in 1833, the father had a business in London which sold seashells, popular in the interior design industry at the time, the two brothers would develop their father's business into one which sailed the first ever oil tanker through the Suez Canal. shell.com, Our company history, accessed 04/08/24.

The company would eventually merge with Royal Dutch, and form into the Royal Dutch Shell Group, the company that we now know today as Shell.

Fighting for a future

My dad was born in Vietnam in 1971, 4 years before the end of the Vietnam War. This was a tough time. His family was poor, a household of 8+ with only one bicycle to share between them all.

At 18 years old, my dad and 3 of his brothers would leave home and were determined to seek refuge elsewhere for a better life and greater opportunities.

He would become one of the many Vietnamese boat people fleeing the country. It is estimated that upwards of 800,000 people safely fled, but between 200,000 and 400,000 would die at sea.

On 11th May 1989, 105 people along with my dad would commence their voyage for a new life on a delicate sampan. The deep South China Sea was their only foe.

On that same day, Thomas P. Hughes and his crew would travel on their mighty cargo, Ervilia, from Hong Kong to Singapore, transporting Petroleum products for Shell. At 1324hrs, Hughes' crew would spot the sampan at 12°53'00.0"N 111°38'00.0"E, over 200km from the nearest land.

Photograph of the sampan my father voyaged on.

Hughes' account of the sighting:

The craft was evidently proceeding on a steady course, at a steady speed, was apparently self-sufficient, and with a determined destination in mind. The sea surface was relatively calm, with the sampan rising and falling to a gentle ground swell. As we neared the craft, arm waving became evident with, what appeared to be, an assortment of empty water containers. On closing the craft further, a member of the sampan crew stood on top of the small cabin and, with arms outstretched, displayed a white flag with a red diagonal cross. This flag is the International Code of Signals Flag ‘V’ and means “I Require Assistance”.

Both ‘Ervilia’ and the sampan were brought to a stop and came alongside one another. The sampan requested confirmation of her position along with a supply of fresh water and some provisions before continuing on her voyage. A freshwater hose and provisions were readily provided. The Group Leader, Mr. Dang Van Phuc, and his deputy, Mr. Bui Dinh Hieu, were invited on board ‘Ervilia’ where they explained that they and the people on board the craft were exiting Vietnam and proceeding toward the Philippine Islands for refuge. Sadly, since departing Vietnam a young boy and a young girl had died earlier in the trip.

On examination of the weather charts it became evident that typhoon Brenda was developing and likely to challenge Mr. Dang’s intended course to the Philippines. Indications were that in the immediate future high seas and strong winds could be experienced and the safety of the sampan, and life on board, could not be assured. Considerable concern was expressed to Mr. Dang for the wellbeing of such a small craft, crammed full of people, men, women, children, babies, such little space, such small freeboard, such exposure,  in entering the path of a typhoon without due consideration as to the likely  outcome.

Mr. Dang was keen to reach his goal of attaining refuge in the Philippines and, in view of the distance to be covered and expected weather conditions ahead, Mr.Dang elected to discuss the matter with those on board his craft. The initial general consensus among his companions was that the voyage should be progressed as intended. The Philippines was the intended destination and that is where refuge was to be sought. Enquiry was made as to where ‘Ervilia’ was headed, Singapore, and reluctantly the prospects of a dangerous weather-burdened passage to the Philippines was abandoned in favour of a safe passage to Singapore. Mr. Dang accordingly requested safe passage on board ‘Ervilia’ for himself and his companions. Preparations were made on board ‘Ervilia’ to afford rescue on humanitarian and safety grounds.


The rescue mission would commence - here are some of the photos that were taken.

My father, second on the right, wearing the red shirt. Captain Thomas P. Hughes dressed in the uniform.

Hughes' account of the rescue:

Under the guidance of Mr. Dang and his team, and with the assistance of ship’s staff and crew, our unexpected  guests were reassured of their safety and settled-in as best possible. As passage to Singapore was resumed ‘Ervilia’ Chief Engineer Steve Blackmore promptly increased fresh water production and electrical generation, Chief Officer Mike Goldsmith attended to supervision and welfare, and Second Officer Niall Mushet and his wife Linda took care of medical needs and manned the ship’s dispensary. Where and how the catering staff accommodated and fed an additional 103 persons remains a mystery. Visitors and staff and crew worked happily together for a successful outcome for the mutual good. 

‘Ervilia’ duly arrived Singapore on 13th May 1989 for inward port entry. Following immigration clearance, a team from UNHCR and Shell Eastern Petroleum Office boarded ‘Ervilia’ and, with the help of a small fleet of launches, disembarkation arrangements were satisfactorily progressed. Destination was Hawkins Camp in Singapore, a retired British Army Camp, where all refugees were to be to be temporarily housed.

Before departing ‘Ervilia’ at the end of June for scheduled vacation, Mr. John Andrew of UNHCH was very kind in permitting members of the ship’s staff to visit Hawkins Camp. Being welcomed in Hawkins Camp was a strange and sobering experience … smiling children … happy adults … and a salutary reflection of what the likely outcome might have been had ‘Ervilia’ not chanced by and had typhoon Brenda taken its toll.


After some time at Hawkins Camp, everyone was transferred over to transit areas on Baatan Island in the Philippines prior to being assigned to countries worldwide, such as the USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Denmark and the UK. My father told me that everyone could indicate their preferences, he preferred the USA but would immigrate to the UK.

My dad's family and friends studied English and the English way of life. The cold weather was the biggest shock of all! My father may be born Vietnamese but he's proud to be British, he's spent more time in Liverpool than Vietnam - even picking up a weak Scouse accent on the way!

My mother would eventually join my father in Liverpool, in 1999 my older brother was born. The three of them would live in a tiny flat on Nelson Street in Chinatown. Frequenting the Chinese restaurant, North Garden, which still exists to this day.

My dad would eventually open a Chinese Takeaway. In 2003, I was born and the four of us lived in the upper floor of the chippy. My fondest memories are from the time we lived there.

Smiling looking back

When I was sixteen, my father was driving us home from a family party in town. We were riding along A565 North towards Crosby. He recounted the time him and his brother were so poor that they couldn't even afford a taxi, they would cycle everywhere. It was nightfall and were dashing along that aforementioned motorway, both cruising on the same bike. They got pulled over by the police and were scalded for not having rear safety lights, and so, they walked home.

I knew this was his way of saying "hey, look how far I've come". He was driving his family in a car he owned, purchased with money he earned through blood, sweat and tears.

Our recent family holiday back to Vietnam. Picture taken in Hội An.

Thank you, Captain

I had the privilege of meeting and shaking the hands of Captain Thomas P. Hughes in 2014, at the 25th anniversary of the rescue. An incredible and beautiful soul. Thank you, I'm so grateful to be alive.