This is Hull and East Riding --"I REMEMBER arriving at the location and seeing this apocalyptic scene – that is something that will always stay with me".
These are the words of Hessle film-maker Paul Berriff, whose footage was screened around the world as people watched in horror as massive flames engulfed the Piper Alpha oil rig – 120 miles off the coast of Scotland.
It was the world's worst offshore oil disaster, claiming the lives of 167 of the 226 men on board on July 6, 1988.
A gas leak caused explosions shortly after 10pm and the platform was engulfed by a fireball, which could be seen more than 100 miles away and stretched 350ft into the sky.
The North Sea oil platform was operated by Occidental and was about 120 miles off the north-east coast of Scotland.
Mr Berriff was on board an RAF rescue helicopter and saw survivors jump 175ft into the icy water and swim through a cauldron of burning oil.
"I still remember that day vividly," he said.
"I remember most the intensity of the heat.
"It is remarkable that some survived temperatures that reached 1,600C.
"We were a mile away and could still feel it."
Mr Berriff was already filming rescue crews in Scotland when the disaster struck.
"Myself, along with a crew of six, were spending 12 months with 202 squadron, filming their day and night helicopter rescue missions to those in distress in the Scottish Highlands and the North Sea," he said.
"I was making a 12-part television series for the ITV network."
Mr Berriff was enjoying a meal to celebrate his birthday when the call came in about an oil rig on fire.
"Pilot John Dean apologised for paging me but said they had received a call about some sort of fire on an oil rig 120 miles out in the North Sea and asked would I be interested?" he said. "Of course I was.
"We ditched the car and jumped on board, put on our dry suits and took off."
The extent of the fire soon became clear.
"We had been airborne just a few minutes when, through our headsets, we heard a radio message from the Nimrod, call sign Rescue One, saying he had just taken off and was coasting out over the Moray Firth and he could see the fire," said Mr Berriff.
"We all looked at each other in stunned silence. The target we were scrambling to was Piper Alpha, a platform in the North Sea some 120 miles away.
"From that moment we knew this was going to be a big one."
The sight that met Mr Berriff defied belief.
"As we got closer we could see the orange glow in the sky," he recalled. "I moved up to the cockpit and joined John Dean and the co-pilot with my camera.
"The view in front of us was unbelievable; it was like daylight tinged with a bright orange cast.
"Massive explosions and flames were shooting some 350ft into the night sky. The sea all around the rig was on fire, too.
"Hollywood could never create a vision like this."
Even from so far away, Mr Berriff could feel the intense heat.
"We must have been about a mile away when the bulkhead of our yellow Sea King helicopter began to get extremely warm, if not hot," he said.
"We knew then that there was no way we could get any closer."
Mr Berriff has been an auxiliary with Bridlington Coastguard and is a founder member of Humber Rescue.
"This is the moment in any rescuer's life when he can see a life in peril but, owing to prevailing horrific conditions, is impotent to do anything about it," he said.
"It's these moments that you replay over and over again thinking, 'Should I have gone in and tried a rescue through impossible odds?'. I know because it has happened to me."
Stationed a few hundred metres from Piper Alpha was a mobile platform named Tharos – a nautical version of a fire engine.
"It had massive fire suppression equipment, consisting of water jets that could unload tonnes of water a minute on to its target," Mr Berriff said.
"But that night the water jets were completely hopeless. The water was evaporating seconds after it left the nozzles."
Many of the survivors were jumping from Piper into the sea to escape the raging hell only to find this on fire, too.
"By now all of us onboard were looking through the aircraft windows in stunned silence," Mr Berriff said.
"All of us on board had been exposed to major incidents before but had never seen anything of this magnitude."
The helicopter on which Mr Berriff was based began airlifting casualties.
"I continued filming as the rescuer was winched nearer to the helicopter," he said.
"As he got nearer to me I moved backwards into the belly of the helicopter and, still looking through my viewfinder, captured the most iconic shot of the night as the rescuer came into the helicopter silhouetted by the blazing rig behind him.
"In situations like this I will always put my camera down to help. I attempted to make the guy more comfortable by adjusting the silver foil that had been wrapped around him.
"The sound of the burning platform was incredible. It was roaring and sounded like a hundred thousand Bunsen burners all connected into one."
Mr Berriff went to the hospital on board the Tharos.
"I continued filming the survivors being treated," he said.
"Outside, the air was filled with helicopters.
"On the deck of Tharos there was the pungent smell of burning oil. Every disaster I've been involved with always leaves a distinct odour that remains with you forever."
The full extent of the disaster was seen in the cold light of day.
"By daybreak, everyone was exhausted," Mr Berriff said.
"Lying a quarter of a mile off Tharos was the remains of Piper. It was silhouetted against the morning sunrise. Most of the structure had disappeared into the depths, along with its human cargo of men who had been trapped in the accommodation block.
"It was still being supported by a couple of its legs and tilted over like an old man with an arched back."
For Mr Berriff, it was now a case of getting the footage back to the television station.
"By now, the world knew of the disaster but there were no pictures," he said.
"In those days there were no digital cameras, iPhones or iPads that could record and send pictures instantly to anywhere on the planet.
"The only witness had been my camera and the world was waiting to see the images on the rolls of unexposed 16mm that I was clinging to in my lap.
"I knew then that this footage would be etched on everyone's mind for a long time to come.
"I do hope they will become a testimony to the 167 men who didn't escape that apocalyptic nightmare and a lesson to everyone in charge of complex oil installations that wore things will and can happen at sea." Reported by This is 8 hours ago.