Some people leave behind grand monuments. Others leave fortunes, buildings or famous names etched into history.
Moses left a wave.
And somehow, for thousands of people across Torbay, that simple gesture became every bit as memorable.
For years, motorists travelling the coast road between Torquay and Paignton would instinctively glance towards the seafront. Not because of a landmark or a tourist attraction, but because there was every chance Moses would be there — walking stick in hand, headband in place, smiling broadly and waving enthusiastically at complete strangers.
Car horns would sound in greeting. Hands would emerge from open windows. Smiles would spread across faces.
And Moses would wave back.
To those who knew him best, however, the man affectionately nicknamed the Bay Waveman was never trying to become famous.
He was simply Peter — a husband, father and friend whose life took an unexpected turn after being diagnosed with aggressive diabetes.
His wife Diane later recalled how the illness dramatically altered his behaviour before doctors finally identified the cause. Following advice to exercise regularly, Moses began taking daily walks around the bay with the walking stick Diane had bought him.
Then something remarkable happened.
As he wandered the seafront, people began calling out to him.
Some compared him to Father Christmas. Others shouted “Gandalf” or “wizard”. Drivers sounded their horns as they passed.
At first, Moses thought he must know them.
Then came another horn.
And another.
And another.
Soon, waving became second nature.
When Diane eventually discovered what had been happening, she found her husband sitting on the seawall near their home, laughing and waving as hundreds of vehicles passed by.
Questioned about his unusual pastime, Moses offered a characteristically simple explanation.
When people waved, he waved back.
And when Diane suggested some might be laughing at him, his answer revealed the kindness that would eventually make him a local legend.
He told her that if he could make people laugh, even briefly, perhaps they would forget their troubles for a while.
It was a philosophy that would define the rest of his life.
What began as an accidental interaction soon became a daily ritual woven into the fabric of Torbay life. Commuters looked for him during morning journeys. Families waved from car windows. Visitors quickly learned about the cheerful man who seemed determined to brighten everyone’s day.
A photograph taken by a local college student helped cement his status as an unlikely folk hero.
National newspapers came calling.
Business opportunities followed.
People suggested ways to turn his popularity into profit.
But Moses was never interested.
For him, the reward was already there.
Sunshine. Fresh air. The open road. Human connection.
Nothing more was needed.
His story became even more poignant in 2013 when he suddenly disappeared from his familiar roadside position after suffering a stroke.
The absence was immediately noticed.
Residents who had grown accustomed to seeing him feared the worst.
Yet, true to form, Moses returned.
After recovering, he resumed his self-appointed mission, once again taking up position along the coast road and seafront, continuing to share smiles with strangers and reminding people that kindness costs nothing.
Over the years, thousands came to regard him as part of the landscape of Torbay itself.
Earlier this week, that chapter came to an end.
In a heartfelt message shared on the Bay Waveman’s official Facebook page, Diane announced that Moses had died following recent health difficulties.
“Thank you for all the joy you gave him over the years,” she wrote.
“We have been married for 60 years and it’s been an adventure.
“Sunshine and the open road was all he needed and he’ll always be there on the coast road.”
The tributes that followed painted a picture of a man whose impact far exceeded the simplicity of his actions.
Jonathan Muse-Jones described Moses as “a symbol of warmth, positivity and community spirit”, adding that Torquay would not feel quite the same without him.
Angelina Colvin remembered how a smile and a wave from Moses helped brighten some of her darkest days.
Jenny Kerr recalled first waving to him at Livermead before later chatting with him after he moved to St Marychurch.
Darren Gibbings said he brightened countless days simply by being there.
Jennie Swift remembered visiting her father in hospital and finding that Moses instinctively returned her wave with the same gentle smile that had become so familiar to so many.
Others described him as irreplaceable.
A local legend.
A blessing.
A man whose small acts of kindness created ripples that stretched far beyond anything he could have imagined.
In an age often defined by noise, division and endless distraction, perhaps that is why Moses resonated with so many people.
He asked for nothing.
Expected nothing.
Sold nothing.
He simply stood by the road and reminded people that acknowledging one another still matters.
Torbay has lost one of its most recognisable faces.
But every driver who ever sounded a horn, every passer-by who ever raised a hand, and every person whose day was made a little brighter by a stranger’s smile carries a piece of his legacy.
The coast road will feel different now.
Yet somehow, whenever the sun catches the sea at Livermead and a driver glances instinctively towards the seawall, it is easy to imagine Moses still there.
Smiling.
Waving.
And making somebody’s day just a little bit better.
You didn’t mention what Moses did for a living before his aggressive disbetes? I met him a couple of times on the road when i couldnt afford the bus fare to work, and he told me he lived in a big house near to Meadfoot. Just seems strange there was no mention of his occupation in your tribute, that’s all