On leaving Trincomalee for Madras on January 30th. There was a feeling of sadness in most of us, and certainly in the people based ashore there. This was the last time a British cruiser would be sailing out of Trincomalee harbour to the accompaniment of waves and cheers from British wives and families ashore. When we next arrived in these waters, the run down would be nearly complete, and most of the friends we had made ashore would be gone.
However sadness was soon forgotten in the prospect of our first visit to an Indian port – for many of us the first time ever. Madras, the third largest city in India, pleasantly surprised most of us, I think, with its wide roads and bridges over the two rivers Coum and Adyar which flows through the romantic sounding places, the largest buildings, general beauty and cleanliness were indeed refreshing.
It was here that "Rabbits" started to come aboard in ever-increaqsing numbers and you almost hear them squeaking on the mess decks! This was certainly the first place we had visited where woodcarving, crocheted tablecloths, and curios of the kind that one might even expect ones wife to be pleased with, could be obtained. The Victoria Technical Institute, the official Government store, was visited by many, though the prices were a bit steeper there than at some of the smaller, less reputable places. One had to choose between taking the chance of "being seen off" with inferior qualioty goods in the side streets. (S. I. O. has a beautiful cracked walnut jewel box!) or paying some 20% to 30% more at the Institute.
Bicycle rickshaws were another interesting feature of Madras, where taxis in the dockyard area were in rather in short supply. When two well-known heavyweights took a ride in a rickshaw to the Institute one day, the Met. Officer had to get out and walk up hills of greater than 1 in 300,( and also past policemen, the practice of three up on a bicycle evidently being illegal!).
Sightseeing trips were organised to the Temple of the Seven Pagodas, (six of which were under the sea, and the other looking pretty decrepit!) which was some 30 miles South of the city. There was a very good beach for swimming after the sightseeing, and the drive itself was jolly interesting too.
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Vizag, spelt this way because it is almost impossible to spell the lengthy version correctly, is the sight of I. N. Boys’ Training Establishment, I. N. S. Circars, which was the host ship and looked after us very well. They turned out a very smart guard and band to greet us on the jetty. (The sound of their band on the jetty, and our band on the quarterdeck, playing different tunes at the same time, brought back pleasant memories of the Boys’ Brigade and Scouts on a Sunday morning at home!).
Vizagapatam is only a small town, but a port of growing importance. The harbour was created as an outlet for a large area of fertile country, with considerable mineral resources and no alternative access to the outside world. Sightseeing tours around Caltex Oil Refinery a nd the important Shipyard were laid on for us, as were daily visits to Lawson’s Beach, a large and beautiful stretch of sand, which is reputed to be the best in India. Bathing was very good, but as soon as we arrived on the beach we were immeduately surrounded by local children, and others, who begged consistently the whole afternoon, and rather spoilt the outing.
After leaving Vizag for Calcutta we were diverted for a few hours to search for two or three hundred thousand square miles of ocean(!!) for a ship which sank in mysterious circumstances, somewhere in the area, possibly with insurance in mind. It seemed that the crew had come ashore with all their possessions, clothes, parrots, razors, cats etc., but there had been, unfortunately, no time to collect the ship’s log and other papers which had gone down with the ship! This will presumably become another mystery of the deep!
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Calcutta, the Metropolis of India, will be remembered by many for the best ship’s company dance they have ever been to. (Probably because there were more than enough girls to go around,and drink was "on the house" - always a good start to an evening’s entertainment!)
There were two luxurious swimming pools and sightseeing trips, official and unofficial, varying from visits to the Jain Temple, where colour photographers went crazy, to Firpo’s Night Club (no comment!)
For the so-called "dirtiest city on earth", Calcutta seemed relatively clean to most of us, compared with many ports we have been to, but we are quite prepared to admit that the Hooghly River is the dirtiest river on earth. Calcutta lies 90 miles up the Hooghly, and we were in the cleaner area, lying off Man-O-War Jetty, with open, park-like space in the background. This was the last time, and the misty evenings were reminiscent of London in October (at least to look at!).
Those of us who had saved our money and not bought at Madras certainly had the last laugh at Calcutta., where woodwork, bought in the famous New Market, was considerably cheaper than at Walnut Willie’s in Madras.
Ah well – at least my jewel box hasn’t cracked yet!
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* Drink and forget your cares; *
* Drink Tiger and forget everything. *
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(Article extracted from the ship’s magazine – written by "FLIT")
Before we actually went to Male, there had been some conjecture in the ship as where Male (pronounced as in Dietrich, but without the ‘ne’) actually was. Apart from the Fleet Operations Officer and the Navigating Officer, both of whom seemed convinced they knew, opinions varied from a place in South India to the Seychelles. But by the time we sailed, those in the know had converted the majority and we learnt we off to a small island situated four degrees North of the Equator, in the centre, and the capital, of that long group of islands called the Maldives. The actual purpose of our visit was to take the new High Commissioner for the United Kingdom in Ceylon, His Excellency Mr. A. F. Morley, C. M. G., C. B. E., to pay his official calls on the Sultan and the Government of the Maldive Islands.
The ship undocked during the forenoon of 3rd March, and what a relief it was to be afloat again and out of the steaming heat of Walker’s Yard. Then at 1530 the High Copmmissioner, accompanied by his wife and First Secretary, came on board, and at 1600 we sailed out of Colombo Harbour to the accompaniment of three rousing cheers from the Royal Ceylon Navy mustered on the breakwater.
The passage to Male took just over a day and a half, and duly at 0830 on Wednesday, we arrived at our anchorage and fired the National Salute, which was returned by a most impressive muzzle-loading battery in the old Portuguese Fort ashore. Then the High Commissioner and the Commander-in-Chief went ashore to pay their calls. They were given a friendly reception by the Maldivians who had decorated the large arch leading onto the courtyard in front of the Sultan’s Palace, with a huge "Welcome" sign, and all the children from the schools had turned out to wave the British and Maldivian flags and cheer them on their way. After they had returned to the ship, His Highness the Sultan came on board for the return call. It was a most impressive sight to see him, in his splendid blue and gold uniform, being rowed off in his State Barge. This barge was presented to him by Queen Victoria in 1897, and his oarsmen would have done credit to many of the Captain’s ‘Gigs’ crews of old. He was received on board with full ceremonial, Guiard and Band playing the Maldivian National Anthem, or what we are told is the National Anthem, for to most ears it sounded uncommonly like ‘Auld Lang Syne’.
In the afternoon, of course, there was leave, and many took the opportunity to look around Male. Truly an amazing island, it is oval in shape, about two miles long and a mile wide. Two long streets run thelength of the island with others crossing them at right angles, and apart from them there was virtually no open space on the island, as every available square inch of land is used for building houses on. Round every house is a high wall, built, so it is said, to stop the womenfolk of the island, who remain closeted in their houses all day long, being seen by men. If this is their object, then undoubtedly they are successful as, apart from the occasional head peeping over them or a glimpse of the sly pulling aside of a curtain in one of the latticed windows, it would be hard to believe that there are any women at all on the island – perhaps that’s how it got its name. There are a few shops and little in them to buy except stamps. These are quite rare, especially when postmarked "Maldive Islands", and the Post Office did a roaring trade, in fact, at time, it would have been swamped if some of its customers had not enlisted them-selves into Government Service and helped behind the counter.
But I should think the main impression that the island of Malé leaves on all its visitors is one of the quite spotless cleanliness of the whole place. The white-washed walls, the burnished brass fittings on the houses, the coral-sanded roads, everything gleamed in the sun, and the inhabitants in their persil-white suits with their hair sleeked back with coconut oil, could all have appeared on any advetisement for Brylcream.
Later on, on that first afternoon, the 1st XI played Malė at Soccer, and following the match the Royal Marines gave a performance of Beat Retreat. Perhaps the speed of the local side, on the first occasion, surprised our team, for we lost 3 – 1. However, our team had their revenge on Saturday, when they outclassed the Moldavians and won 8 – 1.
And what was there for those who did not go sightseeing or watch the football? Well, the smaller island’s surrounding the main island looked inviting enough and, although we were warned that swimming in the deep water inside the lagoons was dangerous due to sharks, we were told that inside the coral reefs, where the water was shallow, it should be quite safe. The nearest island, just over half a mile from the ship, had a most attractive beach, so on the first day a bathing party went off to explore, and their reports were so enthusiastic that the island was converted into a swimming resort for the remainder of the visit. Within 24 hours, the Canteen had sold out of swimming masks, goggles, and flippers. And how right those first reports had been. From the waving palms on the edge of the beach, white sand led into the clear, blue waters of the tropical sea. In the sea around the edge of the coral reef, where the depth dropped almost vertically from 10 feet to 10 fathoms, a complete new world opened up – a world of coral cities inhabited by myriad's of fish of every conceivable colour, some even every colour of the rainbow. One could lie in the water and watch for hours the constantly changing population below, all seemingly oblivious of the strangers in their midst.
The weather during the whole of the visit was perfect. And so it was that on Sunday, 9th March, 1958, when the High Commissioner that his long protracted negotiations with the Maldivian Government had gone on long enough, with the proverbial sun sinking slowly in the West, we bade farewell with slight regrets to that lovely haven of the Tropicana.
It had been a very pleasant relaxation after the extremely hectic programme up the East coast of India. But all good things must come to an end some time, and with the thoughts of the G. P. O. vans waiting at the end of the Colombo jetty, with nine days worth of accumulated letters, nobody really minded leaving. After all in the long run I think all will agree that Mail is preferable to Male.
"FLIT."
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(Article extracted from the ship’s magazine – written by L. H.)
The visit of Gambia to Bombay has provided, I’m sure, memories for everyone who ventured ashore. Memories that will in future years be reminisced over at length. For some of the ship’s company, the visit provided a chance to renew old acquaintances, and for other a chance of their first sight of a port well-known and well-talked of wherever seafaring men gather.
We arrived in Bombay harbour early in the morning of March 15th, 1958, and were greeted by the sight of our sister ship of ours, the "Nigeria" now under the flag of the Indian Navy and renamed I. N. S. Mysore. Another quite famous ship was also present, the one time "Achilles" and now renamed the "Delhi" and also operating under the flag of the Indian Navy. There must have been many aboard Gambia whose thoughts were channelled back to wartime days at the sight of the "Achilles".
After coming to the buoy, the ship’s company had a few more hours to work through before they could set their feet shoreward and explore. During those few hours the rather tantalising sight of the Taj Mahal Hotel, and the very imposing Gateway of India, beckoned them for the rest of the morning. Allowing for the fact that only half of each mans thoughts were upon the routine of the morning, they all must havbe been able to see at first glance that the Port of Bombay is a busy and thriving one. The fact that Bombay is actually an island of some ten miles long by four miles wide, was probably not very well known. Furthermore, although Bombay’s history is of great length, it is only in fairly recent years that it has grown to be such a large and important seaport. In the year 1661, we are told, Bombay was hardly more than a scattered collection of villages on separate islands. Since the middle of the 19th century however, Bombay, through the construction of docks, a large land-reclamation plan, and a rapidly grown cotton industry, has developed into the second largest city of India.
Without a doubt, the first point of interest to the man going ashore was the majestic Gateway of India. This huge arch was built to commemorate the visit of His Majesty King George the Fifth and Queen Mary in 1911. Since that visit, this "Gateway" has been used for all ceremonial arrivals and departure, and in 1948 was the scene of a rather sad occasion. It was through this portal that the last British troops left India. Thus ended the period in history of India that was full of the glamour of British Imperialism at its height.
Once the visitor is through the "Gateway" which, incidently, is never without spectators of some description, his thoughts may cause him to seek the refreshment offered by the imposing Taj Mahal Hotel. What might never come to mind as he sits in there, is the fact that this hotel was actually built facing the wrong way!! It is the rear of this hotel that faces the sea, a mistake in planning which resulted, I am told, in the suicide of its architect.
What can never fail to amaze the visitor to Bombay, as he wends his way towards the main shopping centre, are the hundreds of people that are always present. The Sikhs, Bengali, Parsees and Goans, many of whom are dressed in their picturesque costumes. One more thing that never fails to amaze a visitor, is the number of "Gold rings" that can be bought for a few ruppes along the streets 1 !
For the energetic there is a walk along Marine Drive, for the not so energetic, a taxi or horse-drawn carriage to the bottom of Malabar Hill, a journey through a fairly modern residential area. The climb to the top of Malabar Hill, where the sight of Bombay is laid out for your pleasure, is the prize for such exertion, and if the visitor should time his excursion so that it is almost nightfall as he arrives at the top, then the myriad of lights that meet his gaze will reward him further.
Along the slopes of Malabar Hill are the attractive Hanging Gardens, here the visitor to Bombay can see exotic peacocks and some extremely fine examples of Eastern Gardens. Not far away from the Gardens, near the top of the hill, are the Parsee Towers of Silence. It is here that people who practice this religion expose their dead to birds of prey. Although this rather gruesome edifice is not open to the casual visitor, a model of these Towers can be seen in the Prince of Wales museum. On the Western side of Malabar Hill, is the very popular open-air swimming pool, Breach Candy. Here also, one can see a well laid-out garden, and this resort is the site of a splendid restaurant.
Without a doubt, Bombay has a lot to interest any visitor, and numbered among these interests are the shopping centres. One of the largest of these, and certainly the one offering the widest choice of goods, is Crawford Market. It is here that one can see fruit, vegetables, fish and meat; for wives, the adjacent streets offer goods of every description, from household wares to silk brocades and jewels. In these streets one finds groups of traders in an unusual pattern. For instance, all the go;dsmiths are situated in one street, silversmiths in another, cloth and silk merchants in yet another, and so on. With such a wide choice of gifts to buy, and the sight of carpets and carvings all laid out for the visitors inspection, it I difficult to select just one or two gifts, but it is well known that these best buys in Bombay are towels and sheets. These articles are available in many brilliant colours as well as white, and are the products of local mills. Their quality is excellent, and it is easy to be tempted when things like these are offered at a fraction of the cost they command in the United Kingdom.
With such a variety of sight-seeing and shopping available, and only a fairly short time at ones disposal, it will be probably found that every man who went ashore found something different to interest him. There are a few items however, that deserve to have a place in this description. The Aarey milk colony for instance, which is a masterpiece of modern dairy farm with a difference, buffaloes’ milk instead of cows’ milk being the product. Next, the Victoria Gardens, which are the sight of Bombay's’ zoo, where elephant and camel rides for children are a speciality. The Mahs Laxmi Temple at the end of Cumballs Hill, where the Goddess Laxmi of wealth and plenty is worshipped. The excellent view from Raja Bai clock tower, situated on top of the university library, two hundred and sixty feet high, is a vista worthy of the most modern photographic technique. Modern cinemas are indeed another notable feature of Bombay. The majority of these are air-conditioned, and the modern films makes cinema-going a pleasure.
During this visit to Bombay everyone at some time must have come to the conclusion that no matter how long one stayed in Bombay, there would always be something different to see. Bombay is a city of a thousand changing faces, and we of the Gambia are privileged to have seen just a few of them.
L. H.
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Sadly our Indian Cruise is now over – Back to Top