Features
Hoteliering
G.E.B. Milhuissen, who owned a thriving timber firm named Cetrac, in Peliyagoda had been a friend and business associate of Jeramius, a client purchasing large quantities for his projects. Geoffrey Bawa, still in the early stages of the architectural career that would make him world-famous, had been another. Together, Milhuissen and Bawa had built the Blue Lagoon Hotel, in Talahena, Negombo in 1965 – the first modern resort hotel to be built in Sri Lanka. Kept reliably filled with guests by a Scandinavian charter-tour operator, Vingresor, the Blue Lagoon had turned out to be a very profitable investment. By 1971 Milhuissen was keen on expanding.
The site Milhuissen selected for his second hotel was Palangathurai, a fishing hamlet close to Negombo. Since his old friend Jeramius had passed away, it seemed fitting to Milhuissen that the friend’s son, who was in the same business, should build the new hotel – to be called Seashells. The estimated construction period was six months, a very tight schedule in those days. Herbert set about the challenge with his usual determination, and inadvertently found himself in the tourism business.
The site was a barren field by the sea. The village of Palangathurai, comprised a handful of tiny coconut-thatched huts populated mainly by women and children whose menfolk slept by day and went out to sea at night. Fearful for their livelihoods and suspicious of the intentions of well-dressed, influential city folk, the villagers greeted Herbert and his associates with reserve and occasional hostility. It took all Herbert’s patience, humility and understanding to win them around. His people skills, honed by his years as a student politician and building contractor, were equal to the task. By the time Seashells was complete, the villagers of Palangathurai had become his friends.
The project also made him friends among the representatives of Vingresor, the Swedish charter operator, who also had an equity stake in Seashells. With tourism booming, it was not long before the Scandinavians were pressing Herbert to build a hotel of his own. If only he would build it, they promised, they fill it for him.
Herbert who loved challenges and to experiment with new ideas was not averse to the proposition. His involvement in Seashells Hotel and the long evenings spent talking shop with Milhuissen and the Scandinavians had given him considerable understanding of the business of owning and running tourist hotels. He considered the idea for a long time, and eventually bought a plot of land in the adjoining fishing village in Negombo, Ethukala.
The Blue Oceanic Beach Hotel opened in 1973 with only six rooms ready for use – a very modest beginning. The entire project was for 60 rooms – but the demand at that time was so high and the supply so little, that the tour operators were ready to take whatever accommodation that was available. So, the unfinished hotel, with the main building area separated by a cadjan wall, opened its doors with the six completed rooms.
Blue Oceanic, at the beginning, was very much a family effort. The electric cooker from the Mattumagala house was commandeered for the hotel kitchen, as the equipment ordered for the hotel had not arrived since the scheduled opening day was a long way off. Of course, the family crockery and cutlery had also to be loaned to the hotel. Josephine shopped for supplies and the family cook, Thangaraja prepared the meals. Around this tiny operation, construction of the rest of the hotel went on. By 1974 all sixty rooms had been completed as planned.
Herbert Cooray had been well and truly bitten by the hospitality bug. From now on, hotels and hoteliering would be his passion. He loved identifying spaces in picturesque areas of the country, thinking of a concept, sourcing the architect who will be able to execute it best in keeping with the environment. Of course, he could not neglect his construction business; and given his bent for personal involvement, the effort of running two enterprises in parallel was very nearly all – consuming. Still, Herbert continued to demand the highest standards of himself, his employees and his suppliers, and such was the respect in which he was held that he inevitably received it.
The first Manager of the Blue Oceanic was Lakshman Jayawardena, a veteran hotelier at the time. Just around this time, Herbert’s friend Mark Samarasinghe’s son, Ruan, who had just completed his schooling, was looking for employment. Only 19 years old, he turned out to be an excellent recruit; and was Lakshman Jayawardena’s understudy. Today, Ruan Samarasinghe is the Managing Director of Jetwing Hotels and has just completed 41 years with Jetwing.
Despite the Scandinavians’ assurances, success did not come easily at Blue Oceanic. As in the construction business, Herbert again faced entrenched competitors with experience, resources and economies of scale on their side. The largest Sri Lankan travel firms and tour operators made booking decisions on behalf of thousands of tourists and were used to dictating terms to hoteliers; many also ran their own hotels.
In those days, tourism to Sri Lanka consisted mainly of group package tours, run back to back, with the holidaymakers corralled into tight schedules for easy processing. These foreign Tour Operators and their local agents wielded great power. There were few individual travelers and last minute bookings or cancellations were rare. Opportunities to pick up business ‘dropped’ by larger operators were few. Allotments of rooms were pre-booked and charters brought in one batch of European tourists to occupy the rooms just vacated by another batch who were transported back home. The charters usually came during the European winter months which coincided well with South West monsoon and thus the tourist season established itself from November to April.
European operators sold their package using brochures that prominently featured the hotels on offer. Getting a picture of one’s hotel into these brochures was essential in order to get bookings, but Blue Oceanic was often crowded out by bigger operators. It was a closed shop. There were other problems: Negombo, relatively populous, had been passed over by the Ministry of Tourism in favour of Bentota as the centre of tourism development on the west coast of Sri Lanka. Most foreign tour operators had not even heard of Negombo.
Moreover, the officials and operators told Herbert that Negombo beaches were dirty and crowded with locals. Undeterred, Herbert kept up his search for markets beyond Scandinavia, and was finally rewarded when TUI, one of the largest German tour operators, featured Blue Oceanic in its brochure. Herbert was determined to make the underdog Negombo a flagship resort destination in Sri Lanka, and his tireless efforts have now paid dividends. Negombo today boasts wide sandybeaches, kept clean by a vigilant Municipality and tourists left to wander undisturbed bypushy “beach boys” It offered a wide variety of accomodation dining and wining option and amazing shopping opportunities.
Meanwhile, he continued to leverage his ‘people skills’ to good effect. Understanding that hospitality is essentially a personal thing, he himself would interview and approve members of the hotel’s service staff. He had his own standards for different categories of staff and sought them as often as he could. Management was kept on its toes by Herbert’s regular evening visits to Blue Oceanic. Making these evening visits necessitated a long drive after a hard day’s work in Colombo, but Herbert never shirked – he even went on weekends!
The personal touch worked, though: Blue Oceanic was soon fielding inquiries from major European tour operators. Herbert began visiting trade fairs in Germany and the UK, along with his good friends George Ondaatjie and Lucian Perera; these visits, too, generated new business. The hard work was beginning to pay off and he was enjoying it thoroughly.
From the beginning, he was extremely sensitive to the environmental and societal factors of the location and the surroundings of his hotel projects. He ensured that the building blended with the environment and did not stand out awkwardly, the natural habitat was not destroyed or disturbances were kept to a minimum, and the day to day lives of the local community was not disrupted but enhanced in whatever way possible. Herbert was vehemently against the “all inclusive concept” that became very popular at the time.
This meant that a client got a rate at a hotel that included all facilities – meals, snacks, beverages and sometimes excursions too. When tour operators asked for this, he argued that it deprives the people of the area from benefiting from tourism. As the clients have no reason to leave the hotel, the little cafes and bars that add to the tourist experience will naturally find it hard to survive. Continuing this policy, most Jetwing hotels now sell on Bed and Breakfast giving the client the freedom and the flexibility to experience other local cuisine.
Hoteliering might have been the whole of Herbert Cooray’s involvement with tourism, had Dieter Feld, a German tour operator not visited the Blue Oceanic one day in the early 1980s to inspect the hotel and make a booking for his clients. The man simply fell in love with Negombo; he wanted to live there. The problem was that his business was handled by a company in Colombo, and commuting daily from Negombo was out of the question. Unwilling to give up his dream, he set about persuading Herbert to start a travel agency of his own. He said once he did so, he could have the entire business of handling his clients. The agency would undertake ‘ground arrangements’ – transportation, guides, etc. – for the German’s clients.
Herbert was dubious and reluctant. He knew nothing about the travel trade; hotels were what he loved. Conceptualising and creating them excited him. Seeing them operating efficiently, providing employment to many youth and giving a great service satisfied him immensely. The German suggested a compromise: he would set up the company and help run it too, so long as Herbert would provide the investment.
Thus began Jet Travels, a Destination Management Company founded in 1981, its name a direct translation of the name of the German tour operator’s firm Jet Reisen. Its four employees were accommodated in a building in front of Blue Oceanic Hotel. A bus was purchased for tours and airport transfers; its first driver was David Appuhamy, a lorry driver who had worked for Herbert for many years, ferrying building materials for his construction projects.
A couple of years later, G.E.B. Milhuissen, contemplating retirement, began disposing of his businesses. Herbert bought the Seashells Hotel in Negombo, a hotel he had built in record time. Vingresor, happy with the change of management, assisted the enterprise by moving their ground-handling business from their earlier agency to Jet Travels. Later, a larger German tour operator, ITS bought Jet Reisen and was willing to transfer their business also to Jet Travels provided the name and logo was changed. To Herbert, who was never one for research and fanfare, there was a simple solution.
Quite simply, Jet Travels became Jetwing Travels, by coining together the names of the two tour operators the company handled – German (Jet) and Scandinavian (Ving, with a slight twist became wing!). A new chapter in Herbert Cooray’s life and the history of Sri Lankan tourism had begun.
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Features
Challenges faced by the media in South Asia in fostering regionalism
SAARC or the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation has been declared ‘dead’ by some sections in South Asia and the idea seems to be catching on. Over the years the evidence seems to have been building that this is so, but a matter that requires thorough probing is whether the media in South Asia, given the vital part it could play in fostering regional amity, has had a role too in bringing about SAARC’s apparent demise.
That South Asian governments have had a hand in the ‘SAARC debacle’ is plain to see. For example, it is beyond doubt that the India-Pakistan rivalry has invariably got in the way, particularly over the past 15 years or thereabouts, of the Indian and Pakistani governments sitting at the negotiating table and in a spirit of reconciliation resolving the vexatious issues growing out of the SAARC exercise. The inaction had a paralyzing effect on the organization.
Unfortunately the rest of South Asian governments too have not seen it to be in the collective interest of the region to explore ways of jump-starting the SAARC process and sustaining it. That is, a lack of statesmanship on the part of the SAARC Eight is clearly in evidence. Narrow national interests have been allowed to hijack and derail the cooperative process that ought to be at the heart of the SAARC initiative.
However, a dimension that has hitherto gone comparatively unaddressed is the largely negative role sections of the media in the SAARC region could play in debilitating regional cooperation and amity. We had some thought-provoking ‘takes’ on this question recently from Roman Gautam, the editor of ‘Himal Southasian’.
Gautam was delivering the third of talks on February 2nd in the RCSS Strategic Dialogue Series under the aegis of the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies, Colombo, at the latter’s conference hall. The forum was ably presided over by RCSS Executive Director and Ambassador (Retd.) Ravinatha Aryasinha who, among other things, ensured lively participation on the part of the attendees at the Q&A which followed the main presentation. The talk was titled, ‘Where does the media stand in connecting (or dividing) Southasia?’.
Gautam singled out those sections of the Indian media that are tamely subservient to Indian governments, including those that are professedly independent, for the glaring lack of, among other things, regionalism or collective amity within South Asia. These sections of the media, it was pointed out, pander easily to the narratives framed by the Indian centre on developments in the region and fall easy prey, as it were, to the nationalist forces that are supportive of the latter. Consequently, divisive forces within the region receive a boost which is hugely detrimental to regional cooperation.
Two cases in point, Gautam pointed out, were the recent political upheavals in Nepal and Bangladesh. In each of these cases stray opinions favorable to India voiced by a few participants in the relevant protests were clung on to by sections of the Indian media covering these trouble spots. In the case of Nepal, to consider one example, a young protester’s single comment to the effect that Nepal too needed a firm leader like Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi was seized upon by the Indian media and fed to audiences at home in a sensational, exaggerated fashion. No effort was made by the Indian media to canvass more opinions on this matter or to extensively research the issue.
In the case of Bangladesh, widely held rumours that the Hindus in the country were being hunted and killed, pogrom fashion, and that the crisis was all about this was propagated by the relevant sections of the Indian media. This was a clear pandering to religious extremist sentiment in India. Once again, essentially hearsay stories were given prominence with hardly any effort at understanding what the crisis was really all about. There is no doubt that anti-Muslim sentiment in India would have been further fueled.
Gautam was of the view that, in the main, it is fear of victimization of the relevant sections of the media by the Indian centre and anxiety over financial reprisals and like punitive measures by the latter that prompted the media to frame their narratives in these terms. It is important to keep in mind these ‘structures’ within which the Indian media works, we were told. The issue in other words, is a question of the media completely subjugating themselves to the ruling powers.
Basically, the need for financial survival on the part of the Indian media, it was pointed out, prompted it to subscribe to the prejudices and partialities of the Indian centre. A failure to abide by the official line could spell financial ruin for the media.
A principal question that occurred to this columnist was whether the ‘Indian media’ referred to by Gautam referred to the totality of the Indian media or whether he had in mind some divisive, chauvinistic and narrow-based elements within it. If the latter is the case it would not be fair to generalize one’s comments to cover the entirety of the Indian media. Nevertheless, it is a matter for further research.
However, an overall point made by the speaker that as a result of the above referred to negative media practices South Asian regionalism has suffered badly needs to be taken. Certainly, as matters stand currently, there is a very real information gap about South Asian realities among South Asian publics and harmful media practices account considerably for such ignorance which gets in the way of South Asian cooperation and amity.
Moreover, divisive, chauvinistic media are widespread and active in South Asia. Sri Lanka has a fair share of this species of media and the latter are not doing the country any good, leave alone the region. All in all, the democratic spirit has gone well into decline all over the region.
The above is a huge problem that needs to be managed reflectively by democratic rulers and their allied publics in South Asia and the region’s more enlightened media could play a constructive role in taking up this challenge. The latter need to take the initiative to come together and deliberate on the questions at hand. To succeed in such efforts they do not need the backing of governments. What is of paramount importance is the vision and grit to go the extra mile.
Features
When the Wetland spoke after dusk
By Ifham Nizam
As the sun softened over Colombo and the city’s familiar noise began to loosen its grip, the Beddagana Wetland Park prepared for its quieter hour — the hour when wetlands speak in their own language.
World Wetlands Day was marked a little early this year, but time felt irrelevant at Beddagana. Nature lovers, students, scientists and seekers gathered not for a ceremony, but for listening. Partnering with Park authorities, Dilmah Conservation opened the wetland as a living classroom, inviting more than a 100 participants to step gently into an ecosystem that survives — and protects — a capital city.
Wetlands, it became clear, are not places of stillness. They are places of conversation.
Beyond the surface
In daylight, Beddagana appears serene — open water stitched with reeds, dragonflies hovering above green mirrors.
Yet beneath the surface lies an intricate architecture of life. Wetlands are not defined by water alone, but by relationships: fungi breaking down matter, insects pollinating and feeding, amphibians calling across seasons, birds nesting and mammals moving quietly between shadows.
Participants learned this not through lectures alone, but through touch, sound and careful observation. Simple water testing kits revealed the chemistry of urban survival. Camera traps hinted at lives lived mostly unseen.
Demonstrations of mist netting and cage trapping unfolded with care, revealing how science approaches nature not as an intruder, but as a listener.
Again and again, the lesson returned: nothing here exists in isolation.
Learning to listen
Perhaps the most profound discovery of the day was sound.
Wetlands speak constantly, but human ears are rarely tuned to their frequency. Researchers guided participants through the wetland’s soundscape — teaching them to recognise the rhythms of frogs, the punctuation of insects, the layered calls of birds settling for night.
Then came the inaudible made audible. Bat detectors translated ultrasonic echolocation into sound, turning invisible flight into pulses and clicks. Faces lit up with surprise. The air, once assumed empty, was suddenly full.
It was a moment of humility — proof that much of nature’s story unfolds beyond human perception.

Sethil on camera trapping
The city’s quiet protectors
Environmental researcher Narmadha Dangampola offered an image that lingered long after her words ended. Wetlands, she said, are like kidneys.
“They filter, cleanse and regulate,” she explained. “They protect the body of the city.”
Her analogy felt especially fitting at Beddagana, where concrete edges meet wild water.
She shared a rare confirmation: the Collared Scops Owl, unseen here for eight years, has returned — a fragile signal that when habitats are protected, life remembers the way back.
Small lives, large meanings
Professor Shaminda Fernando turned attention to creatures rarely celebrated. Small mammals — shy, fast, easily overlooked — are among the wetland’s most honest messengers.
Using Sherman traps, he demonstrated how scientists read these animals for clues: changes in numbers, movements, health.
In fragmented urban landscapes, small mammals speak early, he said. They warn before silence arrives.
Their presence, he reminded participants, is not incidental. It is evidence of balance.

Narmadha on water testing pH level
Wings in the dark
As twilight thickened, Dr. Tharaka Kusuminda introduced mist netting — fine, almost invisible nets used in bat research.
He spoke firmly about ethics and care, reminding all present that knowledge must never come at the cost of harm.
Bats, he said, are guardians of the night: pollinators, seed dispersers, controllers of insects. Misunderstood, often feared, yet indispensable.
“Handle them wrongly,” he cautioned, “and we lose more than data. We lose trust — between science and life.”
The missing voice
One of the evening’s quiet revelations came from Sanoj Wijayasekara, who spoke not of what is known, but of what is absent.
In other parts of the region — in India and beyond — researchers have recorded female frogs calling during reproduction. In Sri Lanka, no such call has yet been documented.
The silence, he suggested, may not be biological. It may be human.
“Perhaps we have not listened long enough,” he reflected.
The wetland, suddenly, felt like an unfinished manuscript — its pages alive with sound, waiting for patience rather than haste.
The overlooked brilliance of moths
Night drew moths into the light, and with them, a lesson from Nuwan Chathuranga. Moths, he said, are underestimated archivists of environmental change. Their diversity reveals air quality, plant health, climate shifts.
As wings brushed the darkness, it became clear that beauty often arrives quietly, without invitation.

Sanoj on female frogs
Coexisting with the wild
Ashan Thudugala spoke of coexistence — a word often used, rarely practiced. Living alongside wildlife, he said, begins with understanding, not fear.
From there, Sethil Muhandiram widened the lens, speaking of Sri Lanka’s apex predator. Leopards, identified by their unique rosette patterns, are studied not to dominate, but to understand.
Science, he showed, is an act of respect.
Even in a wetland without leopards, the message held: knowledge is how coexistence survives.
When night takes over
Then came the walk: As the city dimmed, Beddagana brightened. Fireflies stitched light into darkness. Frogs called across water. Fish moved beneath reflections. Insects swarmed gently, insistently. Camera traps blinked. Acoustic monitors listened patiently.
Those walking felt it — the sense that the wetland was no longer being observed, but revealed.
For many, it was the first time nature did not feel distant.

A global distinction, a local duty
Beddagana stands at the heart of a larger truth. Because of this wetland and the wider network around it, Colombo is the first capital city in the world recognised as a Ramsar Wetland City.
It is an honour that carries obligation. Urban wetlands are fragile. They disappear quietly. Their loss is often noticed only when floods arrive, water turns toxic, or silence settles where sound once lived.
Commitment in action
For Dilmah Conservation, this night was not symbolic.
Speaking on behalf of the organisation, Rishan Sampath said conservation must move beyond intention into experience.
“People protect what they understand,” he said. “And they understand what they experience.”
The Beddagana initiative, he noted, is part of a larger effort to place science, education and community at the centre of conservation.
Listening forward
As participants left — students from Colombo, Moratuwa and Sabaragamuwa universities, school environmental groups, citizens newly attentive — the wetland remained.
It filtered water. It cooled air. It held life.
World Wetlands Day passed quietly. But at Beddagana, something remained louder than celebration — a reminder that in the heart of the city, nature is still speaking.
The question is no longer whether wetlands matter.
It is whether we are finally listening.
Features
Cuteefly … for your Valentine
Valentine’s Day is all about spreading love and appreciation, and it is a mega scene on 14th February.
People usually shower their loved ones with gifts, flowers (especially roses), and sweet treats.
Couples often plan romantic dinners or getaways, while singles might treat themselves to self-care or hang out with friends.
It’s a day to express feelings, share love, and make memories, and that’s exactly what Indunil Kaushalya Dissanayaka, of Cuteefly fame, is working on.
She has come up with a novel way of making that special someone extra special on Valentine’s Day.

Indunil is known for her scented and beautifully turned out candles, under the brand name Cuteefly, and we highlighted her creativeness in The Island of 27th November, 2025.
She is now working enthusiastically on her Valentine’s Day candles and has already come up with various designs.
“What I’ve turned out I’m certain will give lots of happiness to the receiver,” said Indunil, with confidence.
In addition to her own designs, she says she can make beautiful candles, the way the customer wants it done and according to their budget, as well.
Customers can also add anything they want to the existing candles, created by Indunil, and make them into gift packs.
Another special feature of Cuteefly is that you can get them to deliver the gifts … and surprise that special someone on Valentine’s Day.
Indunil was originally doing the usual 9 to 5 job but found it kind of boring, and then decided to venture into a scene that caught her interest, and brought out her hidden talent … candle making
And her scented candles, under the brand ‘Cuteefly,’ are already scorching hot, not only locally, but abroad, as well, in countries like Canada, Dubai, Sweden and Japan.
“I give top priority to customer satisfaction and so I do my creative work with great care, without any shortcomings, to ensure that my customers have nothing to complain about.”
Indunil creates candles for any occasion – weddings, get-togethers, for mental concentration, to calm the mind, home decorations, as gifts, for various religious ceremonies, etc.
In addition to her candle business, Indunil is also a singer, teacher, fashion designer, and councellor but due to the heavy workload, connected with her candle business, she says she can hardly find any time to devote to her other talents.
Indunil could be contacted on 077 8506066, Facebook page – Cuteefly, Tiktok– Cuteefly_tik, and Instagram – Cuteeflyofficial.
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