Real Survival Stories - Critical Error: Zeebrugge Ferry Disaster

Episode Date: October 22, 2025

A 16-year-old battles through a terrifying human tragedy. Gillian Lashbrooke is on her way home from a family trip to Belgium. But when a critical error leads to the ferry taking on water, a routine crossing turns into a nightmare for the 450 people on board. Suddenly alone in the North Sea, Gillian will have to summon a resilience, courage and composure far beyond her years…   A Noiser podcast production. Hosted by John Hopkins.   Written by Joe Viner | Produced by Ed Baranski | Assistant Producer: Luke Lonergan | Exec produced by Joel Duddell | Sound supervisor: Tom Pink | Sound design by Matt Peaty | Assembly edit by Rob Plummer | Compositions by Oliver Baines, Dorry Macaulay, Tom Pink | Mix & mastering: Ralph Tittley.   For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions   If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail]   Our sister podcast Short History Of… has a new book! Pre-order your copy of A Short History of Ancient Rome now at noiser.com/books Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Where's your playlist taking you? Down the highway, to the mountains, or just into daydream mode while you're stuck in traffic. With over 4,000 hotels worldwide, Best Western is there to help you make the most of your getaway. Wherever that is. Because the only thing better than a great playlist is a great trip. Life's the trip. Make the most of it at Best Western. Book direct and save at bestwestern.com. It's 6.45 p.m. on March 6th, 1987.

A cold, blustery night, just off the coast of Belgium. Freezing rain needles the surface of the dark, turbulent North Sea. Ragged waves, driven landward by a northern wind, barrel across the sandbank, and crash into spray against the breakwater. About a kilometer offshore, just a few hundred meters beyond the entrance of the harbour, something breaks the surface of the waves. A face appears, ghostly pale, wide-eyed, and incredibly young. It's a teenager, a child, blinking through strands of wet hair, plastered her cheeks.

16-year-old Gillian Lashbrook kicks wildly, frantically, as she fights to keep her head above water. She tries to breathe, but she's disorientated, thrown into shock by the cold, and swallows a mouthful of seawater. She gags and splutters, coughing up brine, and before she can take a second breath, she's buried by another wave. Then another. When she reemerges, panting, she begins casting around for something to grab hold of. There was debris around in the sea, and I was looking for something to hang on to, help me float. Because with the winds or the waves were really quite high, and they were crashing over my head. Gillian gives up on finding something to cling onto.

She kicks off her heavy boots and starts to swim. battling against the currents and the winds. But swimming fully clothed isn't easy, especially in a thick jacket and long denim skirt. Eventually, her muscles throbbing with exertion, she stops. Treading water, she turns to look behind her. There, silhouetted against the dark evening sky is the ferry that she was on just moments ago,

before the unthinkable happened. She's only swum a few hundred yards But from this distance It's now possible to take in the entire Terrible spectacle It wasn't too far But it was still far enough for me Be able to turn round and see the full scope

Of the ferry on the side That's when you really realise then Yeah things have gone terribly wrong Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives.

In this episode, we meet Gillian Lashbrook. In March 1987, Gillian is 16 years old and on a day trip to Belgium with her mum, stepdad, uncle and two stepbrothers. At the end of a day's sightseeing, the family from Liverpool board the ferry to take them home to England. But tragedy will intervene. All of a sudden, I was locking down into the water and I could see that the ferry was going downwards into the water. And I thought, oh, must be imagining that. It just doesn't look real. When a catastrophic oversight causes the ferry to start taking on water, the vessel and its 450 passengers will be pitched into chaos. Suddenly alone, Gillian will find herself fighting for survival in the bitterly cold waters of the North Sea.

I was just so frightened and cold and I knew the only way to survive would be to swim. My mum had always taught me to swim and I knew it would be the only way that I'd be able to. to save my life. Facing life or death decisions, she left to summon a resilience, courage, and composure far beyond her years. It was just unbelievable. It was just so unreal.

It was only when I realized what actually was happening. I knew then that I had to fight for my own life. I'm John Hopkins. From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is real survival stories. It's 5pm on Friday, March the 6th, 1987. A ferry is docked in the port of Zabruga, Belgium, waiting to shuttle its passengers

across the water to England. The Herald of Free Enterprise is a large ship, weighing almost 8,000 tons and measuring 400 feet from prow to stern. On board, there's a restaurant, a gift shop, and a cinema room spread across its eight spacious decks. Every day, the Herald completes two round trips between Dover and Zabrugger, a short crossing of around four hours, weather permitting. This evening's departure is the final sailor. of the day. Most of the passengers waiting to board are holiday makers, day-trippers and tour

groups, returning to England after sightseeing on the continent. At the ferry terminal, a slow-moving line of cars inches its way up the loading ramp. Sitting on the backseat of her parents' camper van, Gillian Lashbrook rests her head against the window, watching the rain slide down the glass. Gillian and her family travelled down from Liverpool yesterday, in time to catch the morning ferry from Kent to Belgium. Their outing has been slightly marred by the wet weather. As it turns out, Belgium in the rain is about as exciting as England in the rain. But still, it takes a lot to dampen the spirits of this family, and they had a merry old time despite the drizzle.

Now Gillian is looking forward to the final leg of this trip. I was glad to get back on to the ferry, really, because the weather was so bad that day. And being on the ferry was always quite fun, really, because there was lots of things to keep youngsters interested and entertained. And my mum always spoiled us, we'll let us go down to the souvenir shop, and we'd have our dinner there. And it was always quite fun, really. And again, obviously, we were all together, and we always had fun together

because scouses were really good at having fun. In the seats beside her, Gillian's stepbrothers Colin and Mark laugh and chatter alongside their uncle David. Up front, her mum, Eileen and step-dad Keith chuckle along with the antics on the backseat. Gillian turns back to the window, smiling. Half an hour later, they've made it on board. With the camper van parked on the vehicle deck, the family is now sitting in a lounge area near the back of the vessel, waiting for the ferry to disembark. Gillian looks out of the window.

It's not yet six, but already getting dark, as if the day can't wait to be over. Somewhere, a foghorn blasts. The vibrations hum up through the floor as the ship starts its engines. The youngsters scatter, excited to explore. My mum was about to give me some money to go and get something to eat in the cafe.

And I said I'll be back in a minute. I just want to go and have a look outside first. Gillian heads upstairs on her own, pushing through a door onto the upper stern deck at the rear of the ship. A cold blast of briny air greets her as she steps outside. Her long fair hair, tousled by the wind.

She buttons up her denim jacket and hugs herself as she walks over to the railing. She leans against it, shivering slightly. gazing out at the receding lights of Zabruga as the ferry slips its moorings. In many respects, Jillian is a typical 16-year-old. Bright and sociable, when she isn't listening to music or out shopping with her mates, she's revising for her upcoming O-level exams. In other ways, however, she is quite exceptional.

While many of her friends might shudder at the prospect of a rainy day cooped up in a camper van with their families, Gillian is different. She genuinely enjoys spending time with hers, even her brothers, all four of them, including Mark and Colin. That bond is rooted in the way they came into her life. Suddenly, all at once, in a whirlwind of change when her mum remarried. I was always very close to my mum. She was my natural mother and my father, he was my stepfather. We got together when I was five and everybody just blended as a light, nice family, me and all my stepbrothers.

It was lovely to have other children to play with, as I was an only child originally. I went from being an only child and having four stepbrothers, so I had a lot of playmates all of a sudden. It was just great. At the heart of this tight-knit family is Gillian's mum, Eileen. My mum was just a lovely lady. She was a typical Scouse lady, shall we say. And she was really funny and she really was a good mum.

She loved her children. She was a homemaker. She used to work for my dad as well through his business. He used to sell cash registers for a living. And my mom used to do all the accountancy and things like that for him. Gillian's stepfather, Keith, a warm and charismatic salesman, occasionally brings her along with him on sales trips, showing his teenage stepdaughter the ropes so that she too might someday join family business.

I was looking forward to leave in school. and I was going to go to college. But my mom had plans for me to go into my dad's business. He used to teach me how to do his job. So that's a reason why he took me out with him as well. So he trained me up to be able to help him one day once I'd left school. It's about 20 past six. Gillian rests her forearms against the railing,

watching the V-shaped wake widen as the ferry chughey. as the ferry chugs out of harbour. In the fading twilight, the waves appear dark and menacing, the light from the boat catching on their foamy crests. The sea isn't particularly rough, but the cold, wet weather makes the water look forbidding, a frigid grey mass, with webs of whites lacing the peaks and troughs. We're looking at the white spray that the ferry was giving off

and holding on to the white railings. and I was locking down into the water and I could see that the ferry was going downwards into the sea and it just looked unreal I was saying to myself I must be imagining it she looks more closely

the surface of the sea seems to be rising up towards her as the stern of the boat sits lower in the water is it an optical illusion some peculiar trick of the light Jillian looks around for someone to notify but the deck's deserted

she's the only one up here she looks back down at the water she can't be imagining things the ship's stern really does seem to be sinking causing the deck she's standing on to tilt a lump of panic forms in her throat she's about to spin around and run back inside when suddenly there's a powerful knee-buckling jot

Gillian is thrown off her feet and collides headfirst with a solid metal wall The impact knocks her out cold The impact knocks her out cold. It's the matcha or the three ensemble Cadocephora of the fates that I've been to denichie who energize all the time? It's the ensemble.

The form of standard and mini-regrouped. Hello, Ben. And the embellage, too beau, who is practically pre-a-doned. And I know that I'd have to be. these offer. But I guard the Summer Fridays and Rare Beauty by Selena Gomez. I'm! I'm sorry. The most ensemble, the Cadotos of Fett, Seforah,

Shephora Collection, and other part of fast-vite-vite. Procure you these formats, standard and mini, regrouped for a better quality of price. On-line, on Cephora.a or in magazine. This episode is brought to you by Peloton. A new era of fitness is here. Introducing the new Peloton Cross Training Tread Plus, powered by Peloton IQ.

Built for breakthroughs, with personalized workout plans, real-time insights and endless ways to move. Lift with confidence, while Peloton IQ counts reps, corrects form, and tracks your progress. Let yourself run, lift, flow, and go. Explore the new Peloton Cross-training Treadplus at OnePeloton.ca. When Gillian opens her eyes, her world has been thrown into disarray. I came back around and realized. when everything was the wrong way around

and knew that it was real and something terribly wrong had happened. In the eerie darkness, it's hard to make sense of her surroundings. Everything seems off as if the universe has been inverted. Gillian is lying flat on her back on something cold and hard.

High above her head, she can make out a length of railings protruding horizontally from the now vertical deck of the ship. Somewhere to her left, she can hear the hiss and crash of the waves. They sound unnervingly, impossibly close. Gillian hauls herself up, teeth chattering, her face flecked with ocean spray. Something awful has happened. That much is clear.

But it takes several moments for the reality to sink in, the only possible explanation for why the world has been tipped sideways. The ferry must have capsized, with every passenger still trapped inside. Every passenger, it seems, except Gillian. The ship had settled by then, and that's when I thought, I've got to try and get back into the ferry because I need to get back to my mum. When the ship capsized, Gillian must have been hurled sideways into an outer wall. That is where she has ended up, stranded,

alone on a crumpled metal platform, jutting out at a right ankle from the upturned deck. She staggers to her feet, head throbbing, and starts gingerly feeling her way in the darkness. All I was thinking, I just wanted to get back inside the ship to the safety of my mom and my family. It wasn't rational in a way, because when you think back, it was impossible to get back inside the ferry. I was actually trapped outside on my own. The ferry's power must have gone out because there's no light coming from anywhere. Gillian fumbles blindly, her heart racing,

trying to find some entryway back inside her family. It's no use. She can feel nothing except the cold, metallic solidness of the ship's exterior. Under her feet, the foundering vessel lists and judders. Deep, sonorous groans rise from below the waterline, the sound of steel girders bending,

of beams and bulkheads twisting and buckling. Gillian grabs hold of the nearest secure-looking object and clings to it tightly as the ferry lurches in the waves. Are they now going under? For the last few minutes, instinct has been compelling Julian back inside, back to her family. But now, a different instinct takes over. It directs her not inside the ship, but away from it.

I think the survival skills took over, really, because you've just got that need for self-preservation. You need to look after yourself. And that's when I decided that the only safe thing to do at that point was to jump into the sea. It's about 6.30 p.m., about a kilometer off the coast of Belgium. Perilessly positioned on the side of the capsized ferry, Gillian shuffles over to the edge of the platform. Wind and spray sting her face as she squints down through the freezing mist.

In the gloom, it's hard to tell how high up she is. ten feet twenty she doesn't pause too long to deliberate jillian plants her feet bends her knees and hurls herself forward she hits the surface and plunges straight down slicing through the blackness weighed down by her thick clothes and heavy leather boots she opens her eyes and looks up the surface is way, way above her, dimly illuminated by the sky's residual twilight. Perhaps it should have occurred to her to remove her boots before jumping. They're like anchors on her feet, pulling her down. She starts to kick and crawl, scrambling up through the dark water.

I think it was just a natural instinct to survive more than anything. I was always lucky that my mom had taught me to swim from a young age. It was always important for my mom to teach us to swim. obviously because if you ever got into trouble in water, then you knew how to survive. I used to have to help my mum in swimming pools too because she used to wear contact lenses. So when she took her contact lenses out when we went to swimming pools, I was the one that used to guide my mum around. All those hours spent at the local swimming pool are now paying dividends.

Gillian powers back to the surface. Finally, her head breaches the waterline. She takes off her boots and starts to swim away from the ferry, away from the possibility of being dragged down in the sinking ship's wake. When she feels like she's reached a safe distance, she stops and turns. I looked back then and I could see the ferry had capsized. I could really see what had happened and it was just surreal. It was unbelievable to see.

And I could hear people. I could hear people screaming then as well at the same time. Some people have been able to escape through windows and were being pulled up through windows and I could hear people screaming and shouting for the family. It's a terrifying sight, accompanied by a chorus of horrific sounds. The hulking 400-foot-long passenger ferry lies on its side. Parts submerged, flat against the heaving surface of the waves.

What does this catastrophe mean for the people still trapped inside? For now, Gillian can do nothing except focus on herself. She turns back in the direction of land. The lights of Zabruger twinkle on the shoreline, bobbing in and out of view as she rises and falls with the waves. It's probably no more than a thousand meters, but Jillian is already tiring. Her denim skirt and jacket are saturated,

adding pounds of extra weight. If she tries to swim to shore, she might drown. And so she picks the lesser of two evils and turns back towards the carnage of the capsized ferry. It's not a case of thinking things through. It's just a quick decision. I've decided it'd be better for my safety to go back into the ferry. That was the only thing I could think of

because there was nothing around me which was helping me to keep afloat. And I knew that the waves that were crashing over my head would probably get the better of me if it didn't have something to hang on to. She swims back in the direction she came. After travelling 100 feet or so, muscles searing, eyes burning from the saltwater, she stops and glances up. The ferry's silhouette looms over her. She's staring up at what used to be the top deck,

Now, tilted onto its side, everything juts out at odd angles, the stanchions, walkways, and radio masts all upended, transfigured into a confusing three-dimensional puzzle. Meanwhile, Gillian's energy is being drained by treading water. When she spots a tight gap between two protruding walls, she swims for it, desperate to find a place to shelter from the waves. tentatively she approaches the opening when she's paddled close enough she reaches out and grabs hold of what appears to be some kind of railing and pulls herself forward into the gap she's in a sort of flooded passageway with no floor to stand on only cold black water vertical steel walls enclose her on both sides overhead pieces of nautical equipment swing with the motion of the listing ferry, ropes, hooks and pipes, creaking and clanging. With each wave, the water in the

passage swells like a cave on a beach at high tide. In danger of being sucked back out to sea, Gillian quickly devises a solution. There was a hook sticking out from the side, and I thought it would be a good idea to hook myself onto it, to keep me afloat, so I wouldn't get carried away with the sea. It's a brilliant stroke of quick thinking. With the hook fastened to her skirt, Gillian manages to secure herself in place. It gives her a modicum of respite. Her limbs still need to work, gently kicking and paddling to stay afloat, but the strain is eased.

A few moments pass. And then she hears something. Shallow, halting breaths. the sound of somebody shivering in the darkness next to her. She isn't alone. Jillian turns, staring down the flooded passage, her eyes straining as her vision adjust to the gloom. Slowly, shapes begin to form.

Two faces emerge from the shadows. There was a child with a lady there at the side. there was something hanging down from the ferry and she'd managed to climb down it with the child. With the child's arms wrapped around her shoulders, the woman makes her way over to Gillian, clinging onto a steel girder for support. They exchange a flurry of frantic words,

seeking answers that neither of them have. We were talking, asking each other questions, what had happened. Did that she know what had happened? and I asked her, how did she get there with the child? I asked questions like, did you see my mum or my dad or things like that? We was just so lost. We just didn't understand what had happened

because it was just too unreal to fathom. The woman tells her that when the fairy capsized, it was chaos. The lights went out, and in the darkness, the roar of the sea pouring in through the shattered windows was deafening. She was lucky. She managed to find a way out, which was when she spotted the child, lost and alone. Without hesitation, the woman picked her up and carried her down the side of the ship, searching for a safe place to wait for rescue.

As the woman speaks, Gillian glances down at the little girl. She can't be older than four. She is completely silent, her eyes wide and unblinking, a pale face, peering out between dark curls. When the woman finishes her story, silence descends over the trio. They huddled close, Gillian and the woman taking it in turns to hold the girl and settle in for what is bound to be an agonizing weight. Gillian's teeth shatter violently as the sea drains what little warmth remains in her body.

Before reaching this enclave, the adrenaline had largely stopped her from feeling the cold, but she feels it now, sharp and unrelenting. I knew it was only a matter of time because of the cold more than anything, because we just couldn't feel our hands and feet, and I knew that was obviously the first thing of what happens when your body starts to shut down with the extreme cold. With the little girl's arms around her neck, Gillian reaches above her head and grabs hold of something secure. a steel beam or railing.

The denim of her skirt strains against the hook, holding her in place. She closes her eyes and tries to keep her breathing steady. I was just thinking of home. In my mind, I was just wanting to be back at home in our lounge with the fire on and the TV

and being all together at home as a family and that's all I was thinking of as the comfort of my home with my family at the time and I just wanted to be. be back there. That's annoying. What? You're a muffler.

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It's 30 minutes later. Jillian and her two companions hold onto each other in the darkness. Their quiet whimpers echoing around the cramped passageway. The bites of the cold goes bone deep. Gillian lifts a hand out of the water and peers at her grey, pruned skin. She blows on her fingers to warm them up, but it has little effect. Her breath is thin and cold as ice. It's starting to feel like rescue will never come,

when suddenly... Jillian looks around to the entrance of the opening. Through it, she can hear the unmistakable roar of an approaching helicopter. She turns excitedly to the young woman and the little girl, just as the probing beam of a searchlight flashes across the opening, illuminating their startled faces. When I could hear and see the helicopters flying above us, it was a sense of relief.

I thought, oh, we're going to get rescued now. Obviously, people know what's happened, and people have come to try and save us. The thrum of the rotus fades and rises as the aircraft circles. Gillian wades across to the entrance of the opening. She shouts and waves at the sky. But the helicopter passes back and forth, never lingering above their position of more than a few seconds. After a while, an uncomfortable truth starts to dawn.

Unfortunately, where we were, they couldn't see us, and we were waving our arms and shouting for help but after a few passings I said they can't see us because we're too hidden we're out of view There's only one thing for it Gillian is going to have to swim back out into open water To a place where she may be spotted She turns to her companions and tells them what she plans to do

The young woman doesn't want her to go She shakes her head and urges Jillian not to leave them But she assures the woman and the little girl that she's not abandoning them. This is their only hope. They were shouting at me to not leave them. I felt really guilty, but I reassured them that they will be coming to come and save you.

But I had to be saved myself first for them to go back to get them afterwards. Gillian turns away and pushes herself through the opening. back into the waves. The sea roils and churns all around her, and it takes every ounce of strength she has just to stay afloat. She flails her arms and screams, her open mouth filling with water, flooding her lungs. Amid the barrage of waves, she loses sight of the helicopter.

But then, Jillian finds herself blinking into a dazzling white light. Materialising out of the mist is a fishing boat, its crew peering into the water, their torch beam trained directly on Gillian. They pointed at me and they shouted over that they were going to come and get me. I was able to just swim that last little bit to the boat and I think that was the last of my energy. They had to pull me up on the boat because that's when my energy had just gone. I think all my energy had been used of just surviving. She collapses onto the deck of the fishing boat, racked with shuddering convulsions,

coughing seawater under the boots of the Belgian fisherman. Gillian uses the very last dregs of her strength to point back over to the ferry, to where the young woman and the little girl are still awaiting rescue. I was physically showing them with my hand. I was like, they're in there. That's where I came from, and they're in there, and they're hanging on, they're waiting there to be helped themselves. The fishermen assure Gillian they'll return for her two companions, but it's obvious she's in a critical condition.

Hyperthermia has taken hold, and unless they get her to safety immediately, she may not survive. Gillian's protestations are drowned out by the roar of the motor, as the boat turns away from the ferry and speeds off into the night. A few moments later, the fishing boat arrives at a larger rescue vessel, where other survivors from the ferry sit on deck, swaddled in thick blankets. Gillian is hoisted aboard and whisked below deck. Somebody else picked me up and took me down into an engine room and they plunked me over a warm engine

and said you need to go onto this warm engine to try and get some warmth back into your body. Gillian lies there, curled up on a blanket, spread across the softly rumbling engine. Slowly, her shivers ease, her jaw unclenches and her teeth stop chattering. But as her body,

It warms up and new, even more terrifying sensation takes hold. It felt nice to be warm again, but it was more the feeling of being alone and coming to grasps with what had happened and wondering what was going to happen next more than anything, wondering who was alive if my family had made it, just hoping and praying that my family had made it. When you support Movember, you're not just fundraising. You're showing up for the men you love. Your dad, your brother, your partner, your friends.

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That was awesome. Now that's a mountain of entertainment. It's about 8 p.m. Dozens of other survivors huddled together have joined Gillian down in the rescue ship's engine room. Despite searching the group, she hasn't found a single familiar face. Then she hears it, a voice she knows calling her name. She glances around and sees her older brother Mark rushing towards her. We just hugged and cried and I asked him if he'd seen mum and he said no, he hadn't seen her.

He did know himself who had survived. I asked him about my younger brother, Colin. And I said he's seen Colin and he said, no, I've only just seen you. I don't know what's happened to anybody else yet. It's not the news either sibling had hoped for. But at least they have each other. Gillian and Mark hold on to each other as the rescue boat turns and heads back to the Belgian coast.

They're brought to the local hospital in Zabrugur, where emergency provisions have been hastily made available for the rescued ferry passengers. It's a manic scene that greets them as they're ushered through the brightly lit corridors, which overflow with dazed-looking patients and clipboard-wielding nurses. In the Malay,

Jillian and Mark somehow get separated. Jillian is lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled off to an empty room. She spends the rest of the night in there, still in her wet clothes, cold, alone, and sick with worry. In the morning, after finally being provided with some shoes and something dry to wear, she is taken by bus to a nearby military base. There, hospital beds have been set up in a hangar to deal with the fallout of the disaster. Shortly after arriving at the base, Gillian spots Mark through the crowd. They stick closely together as they wait for news about the others.

Then, later that morning, another glimmer of hope. After a few hours, my younger brother, Stead, Brother Colin, he came and I was just so overjoyed, see Colin because I was actually closest with my younger brother, Colin. So I was absolutely over the moon that he'd survived and we hugged and asked each other what had happened and if they knew any information. It's clear by now that the death toll from the ferry disaster is catastrophic. Gillian clings to her brothers for comfort as they await any news about the rest of their family.

But they hear nothing. We were just so worried about the family, wondering if they were alive or not. We couldn't even eat either. You know, we were given food, but basically we were a mess at the time. We were so emotional with what had happened to us ourselves as well. Every time other survivors came through the doors, we were hoping it was our family members, and we just kept on waiting for our family members to appear, but they didn't.

It's late afternoon by the time news arrives. Gillian, Mark and Colin are sitting side by side among the hundreds of other distraught survivors. The harried-looking official approaches them. Somebody from the Red Cross came over with a clipboard, asked who we were and told her that our names and we asked, did they have any information? And she said, oh, you do know that your parents are dead, don't you?

And I said, no, no. And she said, yeah, they are dead. And it was as blunt as that. And I just couldn't take it in. I was like, how do you know? Are you sure? You've got to be wrong this. And she said, no, they are the dead.

And it was basically a tick off the box and moved on to another table. And we were just sat between ourselves in disbelief. Later, her uncle will also be named among the fatalities. Numb with shock, Gillian is asked to identify the bodies, which she does. First her stepfather and then her mother. I was absolutely devastated. I just couldn't take it in. It was just unbelievable.

All my hoaxes were dashed. And I said to the person, can I touch my mum? And they said, no, you can't touch her, but I still did. I divide them. And I rubbed her shoulder, and I told her how much I loved her, and I would miss her. And I said, one more time, I love you, and walked away. A capsizing of the ferry of the coast of Zabrugur remains one of the worst maritime disasters in European history, with 193 people losing their lives.

In the immediate aftermath, an investigation is launched into how the vessel could have capsized so suddenly, so soon after leaving the port. determine that the ferry disembarked with its bow doors open, a critical oversight which allowed seawater to flood the car deck, causing a rapid loss of stability. The suddenness of the disaster was what made it so deadly. The vessel fully capsized in a matter of minutes, giving crew members no time to launch lifeboats, and leaving a majority of the 450 passengers trapped with no escape from the rising water. In the years since, new measures have been put in place to improve safety standards aboard

roll-on-roll-off ferries. Alarms, sensors and CCTV have all been added to ensure doors are closed before departure. Cardex are redesigned, with watertight barriers to limit flooding. Across the board, the industry shifts towards better designs and safety protocols. that account for human error. That's all to come. For now, Jillian and her brothers, like so many others from the ferry, are simply left to reckon with the loss of their loved ones.

The day after they identify their parents' bodies, the siblings return home to Liverpool when nothing is like it was before. My auntie came to stay with us for a week and I remember saying, to her, I just don't know how to carry on now. I don't know what to do. I was hurting so much. I felt like my heart was exploding. My heart hurts so much with the grief. And I always remember her telling me that the time is a great healer. Remarkably, Gillian manages to take her exams

that summer. But after finishing school, she doesn't go to work as previously planned. With her mom gone, she's expected to look after the household. I became the mother of the family. I was the one that took over the mother role. I started to look after all my brothers. I learned how to cook and clean, and I had looked after everybody else. With the support of her remaining family, her brothers, aunt and grandmother, Jillian struggles on, contending every day with a grief that sometimes feels

unbearable. I felt a physical pain, never mind, the mental pain that went with all the grief. Over time, it gradually eased. And I just remember one day, two or three years later, I thought, I haven't thought about that today. And I thought that's me getting over the grief when I knew that I hadn't thought about it for that one day. I hadn't remembered it.

I was actually just living my young life. And so life carries on. Gillian has children of her own. But memories of what happened that night do still linger. In particular, there is a question of what happened to the young woman and little girl, the people she sheltered with in the wreckage of the capsized ship. I always wondered if they had survived themselves. And there was always a bit of an element of guilt.

that I'd left them. Somebody did find out that they'd both survived and were able to tell me that they'd survived and would I be happy to be reunited? And obviously, I was at overjoyed to be reunited. In March 2017, 30 years on from the disaster, Gillian is invited to share her story on a popular UK TV breakfast show.

live on air she's introduced to the little girl now a woman in her mid-thirties with whom she shares an emotional reunion but it's off-camera away from the eyes of the nation where Gillian and her fellow survivor can probably talk about what happened that night

and through talking continue the process towards healing we were absolutely so happy to see each other and once the show would finish We were able to go and sit somewhere and chat and talk about the night. And she remembered things differently to me and she was just a young child and she was in shock at the time. Her memories were different to mine and she asked me questions and I was able to fill in the gaps for her also. It was very healing for us to have to have been reunited.

In the next episode, we meet British backpacker Matt Scott. In September 2003, the 19-year-old is nearing the end of his gap year, having spent the past seven months traveling around South America. With just eight days remaining before his flight home, he signs up for a guided trek to the Lost City, an archaeological site nestled deep in the jungle-clad mountains of northern Colombia. But the trip takes a sinister turn, as late one night a mysterious group of armed men storm his camp. As he and his fellow tourists are forced out of bed and into the dark jungle, Matt will be left to wonder, who are these men, and what do they want?

Does he follow orders and do as they command, or does he take his chances against the jungle and run? That's next time on Real Survival Stories. Listen today without waiting and without ads by joining Noisa Plus. With Amex Platinum, access to exclusive Amex pre-sale tickets can score you a spot trackside. So being a fan for life turns into the trip of a lifetime. That's the powerful backing of Amex. Pre-sale tickets for future events subject to availability and vary by race. Terms and conditions apply.

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