Delting Disaster

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Delting 2007 mem.jpg
Memorial top


On the 21st December 1900, four boats from the Delting area were lost, and twenty two men lost their lives when they were caught in a severe north westerly gale while haddock fishing 20 miles from shore.

The boats were :
The Kate of Swinister, Skipper L. Nicolson with six onboard, the Christina of Firth, Skipper P. Nicolson with six onboard and the William John of Toft, Skipper J. Laurenson with five onboard. The name of the fourth boat, from Nashion, and of her Skipper, also with five onboard is not recorded.



The memorial which stands near the Mossbank junction bears the names of the men lost,
they were:

Delting Disaster Memorial
The Bottom plaque
Photo by Kozetland1.
The two plaques
Name Home Age
James Cogle Toft 49
John Cogle Mosbank 39
Laurence Cooper Toft 37
Thomas Cooper Toft 40
Henry Corkish Swinister 56
John Hay Firth 28
Hugh Hughson Toft 48
John Hughson Toft 18
Hugh Jamieson Toft 38
John Laurenson Nashion 56
Charles Nicolson Firth 75
Charles Nicolson Jnr. Firth 29
Gilbert Nicolson Swinister 26
John Nicolson Firth 42
Laurence Nicolson Swinister 53
Laurence Nicolson Jnr. Swinister 20
Peter Nicolson Firth 37
William Nicolson Firth 45
William Nicolson Swinister 29
Robert Robertson Firthsness 41
Peter Smith Nashion 66
Hunter Sutherland Clett 16



The enscription at the bottom of the memorial reads:
"You see dey wirna mine, Da Loard gae dem tae me fir a time and dan he took dem back ageen"
Attributed to the widow of Charles Nicolson.



The memorial also bears this poem:

Mortal Spirit

Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast flying cloud,
Like a flash of the lightning, a sweep of the wave,
Man passes from life to rest in the grave.

youthful companions whom we tenderly loved,
Are from our affections forever removed,
Death numbers them now with the things that are passed,
They fled like the snowflakes that whirled in the blast.

Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
From the bossum of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud,
Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud!

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