Features

Insurgency 1971: Memoirs of then PM’s Secretary

Published

2 years ago

2024/08/11

(Excerpted from the autobiography of MDD Peiris)

From about the end of 1970 there was persistent and disturbing information surfacing of a youth uprising. Intelligence was coining in about secret meetings in the night; clandestine classes on far left ideologies; weapons training; the manufacture of hand bombs, etc. By the beginning of 1971 it was becoming clear that something dangerous was afoot.

All this information related to the gradual development of a situation that was unprecedented. In retrospect it could perhaps be said, that because it was unprecedented, the government did not, in those early months, accord to it the serious attention, that in hindsight, it could be said that it warranted. The intelligence services themselves, were able to unearth considerable material, but nobody developed a coherent and comprehensive picture of the ramifications and the magnitude of the problem.

The government reacted to the progressively increasing information that was coming in by setting up a special unit at Temple Trees headed by Mr. S.A. Dissanayake, a former Deputy Inspector General of Police. This unit was gradually staffed with a core of officers drawn from the three services and the police. and it was progressively strengthened with the necessary equipment. During this period the Prime Minister was residing in her own home at Rosmead Place. Temple Trees was only used

for state occasions. Apart from its use for receptions and dinners, visiting dignitaries like Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew were lodged there.

On the afternoon of April 4, 1971, I had gone to see the Prime Minister with a whole lot of papers. We were working at the dining table at Rosmead Place, when one of the servants came and announced that the Army Commander General Attygalle had come, and that he wished to see the Prime Minister urgently. He was ushered in, and what he had to relate was alarming. Security officers had raided a small meeting of insurgents at Vihara Maha Devi Park in Colombo a few hours before, and the subsequent interrogation of suspects had revealed a plot to storm Rosmead Place, and kill the Prime Minister that very night.

This had been confirmed by another, who had relented at the last moment and given information to the authorities. General Attygalle wanted the Prime Minister to immediately move to Temple Trees, which could be adequately secured. The Prime Minister with her customary calm said “I am not leaving my home, you protect me here.” But the general was adamant. He pointed out the vulnerability of the location of Rosmead Place right at a junction with roads all around it, and with its boundary walls abutting these roads.

In the developing context, he rightly urged that the Prime Minister should leave. I too added my voice to the General’s and Dr. Mackie Ratwatte, her brother and Private Secretary, who came in whilst this conversation was going on added his own weight. We proposed that she stop her work, and get ready to leave immediately. But she was very reluctant to leave the comfort of her home, and it required more effort to get her to at last agree.

All this was to be kept absolutely secret. I gathered my papers and said I was going to office, and that I would be there if needed. The staff at Temple Trees were not informed about the Prime Minister coming there to reside. She was to make the necessary arrangements after she got in. I finished my work and went home late as Usual. I had no role to play in the technicalities of security arrangements. I was on call if necessary. I had a parallel line in my bedroom upstairs from the telephone downstairs, which I used to keep on a low stand near my bed, so that I could reach out and take a call without getting out.

I was fast asleep when the telephone rang. It was around four o’clock in the morning of April 5. At the other end was Mr. Amarasinghe, Additional Private Secretary to the Prime Minister. He was telephoning from Temple Trees. He related in dramatic fashion the information that was coming in about the attack on a number of police stations by the Janatha Vimukti Perumuna. He said that lists had been discovered, with names of prominent people, to be assassinated. He was also kind enough to say that my name “had not yet been found,” on such a list.

This was a great deal to absorb when woken up from deep sleep. I requested Mr. Amarasinghe to inform the Prime Minister that I would be coming to Temple Trees early in the morning, and that until then I would be at home. I knew difficult, and even dangerous days lay ahead; that all normal hours of work and rest were at an end; and that no program of any sort could be planned. One had to adjust to the developing situation.

My little son was just over two years old. Given the uncertainties, I did not want my wife and son to be at home. I knew that if they were away, I would have greater ease of mind. In any case they were unlikely to see much of me. My parents were at home, and we had a servant. We could manage. My wife suggested that we send our son to her parents in Negombo, and that she stay. I firmly rejected this and packed both of them off to her parent’s place later in the day.

When taking these decisions there was the thought at the back of my mind that if I happened to be on some hit list, it was best that I sallied forth to the after-world alone. In any case the contract of marriage with my wife pertained only to this world, and I saw no point in her being put at risk of such a journey to another world. There was also now an innocent two year old without any contract, but possessing only a birth certificate. Now began almost two months of intense work and activity, where any kind of time management was impossible.

The country had to be under curfew for a considerable period of time. At the beginning the curfew hours were quite severe. Normal office and work hours had to be substantially curtailed. I had now to work from Temple Trees. The focal point of administration and security was there. Very senior security personnel including the Navy Commander Admiral Hunter and Chief of Staff Basil Goonesekera, worked from the operations room at Temple Trees. Some Ministers also spent a great deal of their time at Temple Trees.

One of them whom I remember vividly was Dr. N.M. Perera the Minister of Finance. He had a look of shock and disbelief on his face. Much of the time he had a far away look. It was evident that he had been deeply shocked by the turn of events. He was struggling to comprehend something, which at the time he did not understand. I tried occasionally to talk to him, and also ask him whether I could order a cup of tea. Most of the time he just grunted. Conversation seemed to be the last thing on his mind.

Underlying the shock and the gloom from his point of view was the despair that a set of reckless adventurers were jeopardizing a socialist government which had been returned with such a strong mandate, even before the government was one year in office. Most of the Ministers were in a state of fear. They thronged Temple Trees and stayed there. After a while, this constituted a disturbance to the Prime Minister, who thereupon urged them to go and stay in their Ministries.

The security forces and the police were stretched to the limit. The country did not spend any significant amount on defence and security in those times, and was generally unprepared both in equipment and human resources to meet the kind of insurgent threat that they were now suddenly faced with. Therefore, the security that was afforded to Ministers at the time when compared with the security they receive now, was rudimentary. It was no wonder therefore that they tended to congregate at Temple Trees, the safest place available.

A discussion with the Army Commander

The first three or four days were particularly difficult. In addition to combating the sudden attack on about 25 police stations, with intelligence being received of more attacks to come, the Government was in a most difficult situation. Police stations had to be strengthened; troops had to be deployed against identified JVP centres, as intelligence began coming in; main roads, and most importantly bridges had to be secured: public offices had to be guarded; and Ports, harbours and above all airports, including the international airport had to be secured.

With inadequate personnel and equipment. the security forces and the police were under severe strain. Most of them had not slept for days, and some were on the verge of breakdown. The country was under extended hours of curfew, and rumours abounded of an attack on Colombo; about the prospect of some of the main bridges in the city being blown up; and about possible raids on reservoirs and pumping stations like the one at Maligakande.

It was in this environment and background that General Sepala Attygalle the Army Commander telephoned me one morning at Temple Trees. This would have been around the third day of the insurgency. He sounded seriously overwrought. He said that the situation was very bad and that he wanted to see the Prime Minister. This was chilling news. But one had to discipline oneself not to get excited or panic. I told Sepala, that I would certainly arrange for him to see the Prime Minister, but that first I needed to talk to him.

I was working in the administrative building situated to the north of the main building, where the Prime Minister worked from. On top of the administrative building were some bedrooms. Pending the Army Commander’s arrival, I went into the situation room, and got myself briefed on the latest information. It was clear from the briefing that the initial assault had been to an extent countered, although some police stations were lost or had to be abandoned.

The wave of attacks had petered out and the security forces were consolidating. The volunteer forces of the three services had been called up and the increased manpower coming in were helping both operations and morale. The curfew was being strictly enforced, and orders had gone out to shoot any deliberate curfew breakers. The government had already appealed to countries such as India, Pakistan, The United Kingdom and the USA for urgently needed arms, ammunition and equipment.

There were very positive responses from all these countries as well as later China. India and Pakistan were sending helicopters, in addition to other supplies. They were also sending some of their troops to secure the Katunayake and Ratmalana airports, so that our troops could be released from static duties. Our two neighbouring countries acted very fast. I remember Pakistan responding to our request by immediately cabling “Helicopters loading, please indicate landing details.” They were sent in military cargo planes.

We were also urgently buying ammunition and equipment from Singapore. I knew that all this was in the pipeline, and some had actually arrived. The Indian High Commissioner had met the Prime Minister, and after discussions, the Indian Navy threw a naval cordon around the country and intensified naval patrols. I was most keen therefore to talk to Sepala, because I was certain that he did not know of these details. When he arrived, I took him upstairs to one of the bedrooms, and shut the door. We sat on two beds and talked. It was abundantly clear that he had not slept for almost three days. The strain was visible. He was chain smoking and his hands were trembling, a sign of tension, fatigue and sleeplessness. I calmly narrated the briefing I had received from the situation room.

I then updated him on the arrival of the helicopters, troops and equipment. We talked for almost 45 minutes. At the end Sepala decided he did not need to see the Prime Minister. I suggested that he sleep in the room for a few hours. But he had work to do, and left in a much better frame of mind.

Operation Rescue

One of the main problems initially was the inadequacy of personnel, even for static security duties. The Minister of Public Administration and Home Affairs, Mr. Felix Dias Bandaranaike decided that a number of selected senior public servants, who in any case did not have much to do, due to the long curfew hours, could assist security personnel at some of the check points in the city. A roster had been drawn up and they were to report for duty at various places during early evening.

Unfortunately, under the pressure of events someone forgot to co-ordinate this with the security authorities. Some kind of letter was issued to them. But some had not received their letters by the time they were asked to report. We had no national identity cards those days, and there was now the prospect of a number of senior public servants wandering into military check points in the dark, without a shred of identification in a situation when those manning those points were completely unaware of this arrangement, and were themselves tired, tense and edgy.

Very fortunately the Prime Minister came to hear of this at the last moment. She was furious. Already there were deaths enough, and the last thing she wanted to see was a number of senior public servants added to those numbers. On her instructions therefore, we had to quickly organize a fleet of vehicles to send to the various check points and bring these public servants to Temple Trees.

Getting vehicles at such short notice was also not easy. We had to drop everything and engage in operation rescue. To the great relief of all however operation rescue was successfully carried out and a number of bewildered public servants brought to Temple Trees, where most of them spent the night, some of them seated on the steps at the back, overlooking a beautiful lawn and shady trees.

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Features

Toward a people-friendly transport system in Sri Lanka

Published

6 hours ago

2026/03/23

Thilina Walpola

Image courtesy Sri Lanka Railways

Professor Mohamed Maheesh’s inquiry into reducing fuel waste amidst a failing public transport system and chronic congestion he discussed in a YouTube on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/reel/892342193673092) strikes a chord because it addresses a structural crisis with a call for individual agency. While the lack of a robust transit network often makes private vehicle use feel like a forced choice, rather than a luxury, the ‘unnecessary’ waste, he mentions, is often fuelled by a combination of outdated driving habits and a lack of collaborative transit solutions. In a country where idling in gridlock is a daily tax on both the wallet and the environment, the response must be a tactical shift toward high-occupancy behaviour—such as organised carpooling—and a conscious adoption of ‘smooth’ driving techniques that minimise the fuel-heavy cycles of rapid acceleration and braking. Ultimately, while we wait for the systemic overhaul of our railways and bus lanes, the most immediate way to curb waste is to decouple our movement from peak-hour bottlenecks through better route planning and, where possible, advocating for decentralised work models that remove the need for the commute entirely.

Reducing fuel waste

The question raised by Prof Mohamed Maheesh, regarding the feasibility of reducing fuel waste in a country plagued by gridlock and a weak public transport system, is a modern dilemma with deep historical irony. For a nation currently tethered to expensive, imported fossil fuels, the ‘unnecessary consumption’ mentioned by Prof Mohamed Maheesh is not just a personal inconvenience but a macroeconomic burden. While individual driving habits and the adoption of carpooling are immediate sticking points for reform, the core of the issue lies in the structural abandonment of high-capacity, electrified transit—a system that Sri Lanka actually pioneered over a century ago. Between 1892 and 1900, Colombo transitioned from a horse-drawn era to a modern electrical one. Following the call for tenders by the Colombo Municipal Council, the Colombo Electric Tramway was established, with the first lines—the Grandpass and Borella routes—opening on January 11, 1900. This was a period where the city’s movement was decoupled from the price of oil, powered, instead, by a dedicated station in Pettah. At its zenith, the system operated 52 tram cars, providing a reliable, fixed-rail alternative that kept the city’s arteries clear of the chaotic private vehicle growth we see today.

However, the decline of this ‘strong public transport’ began not with a lack of demand, but through labor and management friction. The historic Tramcar Strike of January 23, 1929, led by A.E. Goonesinha, marked a shift in the operational viability of the private firm, Boustead Brothers. Although the Municipal Council took over operations on August 31, 1944, the post-war global trend toward ‘flexible’ rubber-tired vehicles led to the system’s eventual demise. The last tramcar ran on June 30, 1960, and by 1964, even the electric trolley buses, that replaced them, were scrapped.

Importance of railway

This historical trajectory confirms Prof. Maheesh’s underlying point: the current waste is a result of moving away from a system that once worked. To reduce fuel consumption today, we are effectively trying to ‘tech’ our way out of a problem that was solved in 1900. Until we reintegrate the efficiency of rail-based or electrified mass transit, the ‘unnecessary’ waste of fuel in traffic remains an inevitable tax on a society that traded its electric tracks for a congested, oil-dependent future.

The modern Light Rail Transit (LRT) proposals for Colombo, primarily the Japan-funded project that reached advanced stages before its cancellation in 2020, represent a massive technological and spatial leap from the original 1900 tram system. While the original Colombo Electric Tramway operated at street level on narrow 12 km routes like the Grandpass and Borella lines, modern LRT plans envision a 75 km network across seven main lines, utilising elevated tracks to entirely bypass the ‘unnecessary traffic’ Prof. Mohamed Maheesh describes. Unlike the streetcars of the past, which were often accused of causing road congestion and operated among pedestrians and horse-drawn carriages, the proposed LRT is designed for high-speed, high-capacity movement—capable of carrying over 30,000 passengers per hour in a single direction, compared to the 52 modest tram cars that served a much smaller, slower-moving Colombo.

Despite these advancements, the two systems share a core philosophy: the electrification of public transport to reduce reliance on fossil fuels. The original trams were powered by a dedicated station in Pettah, a localised energy model that modern LRT would mirror on a much larger scale to insulate the city’s transport costs from global oil prices. However, the modern project has faced significant political and financial hurdles that the British-era system avoided during its first few decades. As of early 2026, although the Sri Lankan government has attempted to revive the project, the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) has maintained that approval depends on the successful completion of ongoing multimodal transport hubs. This delay leaves a century-old gap in Colombo’s infrastructure: we have moved from an era of functional electric tracks to one of aspirational elevated rails, while the daily reality remains the fuel-wasting gridlock Prof. Maheesh highlights.

A mirror of values

A transport system is more than a set of roads, buses, and trains. It is a mirror of how a society values its people—their time, their safety, their dignity, and their ability to participate fully in national life. In Sri Lanka, mobility is a daily struggle for millions, yet it is also the foundation upon which economic opportunity, social inclusion, and national cohesion depend. If we are to imagine a more humane and efficient future, we must begin by rethinking transport, not as a technical sector, but as a social contract.

Sri Lanka’s current transport landscape is a paradox. The country possesses a long-established railway network, an extensive road system, and a vibrant culture of movement that keeps even remote communities connected. Yet the lived experience of travel is often stressful, unpredictable, and unsafe. Congestion in urban areas has reached unsustainable levels. Public transport, though essential, suffers from fragmentation, poor coordination, and declining quality. Pedestrians navigate hostile streets, and vulnerable groups—women, elders, children, and disabled people—face daily risks that should be unacceptable in a modern society. A peoplefriendly transport system must, therefore, address not only infrastructure but the deeper structural and cultural issues that shape mobility.

Fundamental requirement

Safety is the most fundamental requirement of a humane transport system. Sri Lanka’s road fatality rates remain among the highest in the region, and these tragedies are not random misfortunes; they are the predictable outcomes of systemic neglect. Treating road safety as a public health priority rather than a policing matter is essential. This means designing roads that slow vehicles where people walk and live, enforcing speed limits consistently, improving driver training, and ensuring that vehicles meet basic safety standards. It also means recognising that certain groups—children walking to school, elders crossing busy roads, women travelling at night—face disproportionate risks. A society that protects its most vulnerable road users creates a safer environment for everyone.

Yet safety alone does not create dignity. A peoplefriendly system must also guarantee accessibility. In Sri Lanka, mobility is often shaped by inequality: urban residents enjoy more options than rural villagers, men feel safer travelling at night than women, and those with private vehicles enjoy privileges that public transport users do not. A humane system ensures that all citizens, regardless of income, gender, age, or physical ability, can travel with dignity. This requires lowfloor buses that elders can board without struggle, stations with ramps and handrails, clear signage for those with visual impairments, and reliable services that do not force women to choose between harassment and immobility. Accessibility is not an optional feature; it is a measure of a society’s moral maturity.

Public transport remains the backbone of mobility for the majority of Sri Lankans. Buses and trains carry millions of passengers daily, yet the system is undermined by fragmentation and outdated operational models. Private buses compete aggressively for passengers, SLTB struggles with limited resources, and rail serv

ices are hampered by ageing infrastructure. A peoplefriendly system requires a shift from competition to coordination. Instead of treating each bus owner as an independent entrepreneur, Sri Lanka must adopt a unified service model in which routes, schedules, and standards are centrally planned. Operators should be paid for service quality rather than passenger volume, eliminating the reckless race for passengers and ensuring that socially necessary routes are maintained even if they are not profitable.

Railway underutilised

The railway system, though historically significant, remains underutilised. Modernising key commuter corridors, upgrading signalling, improving rolling stock, and integrating bus services with rail stations can transform the railway into a reliable, highcapacity alternative to private vehicles. When trains run frequently, on time, and in coordination with buses, they become not only a mode of transport but a catalyst for economic development and urban regeneration. The potential is enormous; what is lacking is a coherent strategy and sustained investment.

A peoplefriendly system must also begin at the most basic level: the street. Walking is the most fundamental mode of transport, yet Sri Lanka’s urban and semiurban areas often treat pedestrians as afterthoughts. Sidewalks are narrow, broken, or non-existent. Crossings are dangerous. Shade is scarce. A humane transport system must reclaim the street as a shared space where pedestrians are respected. Continuous, wellmaintained sidewalks, safe crossings near schools and hospitals, shaded walkways, and trafficcalmed residential zones are essential. When walking becomes safe and pleasant, it reduces the need for short vehicle trips, eases congestion, and improves public health.

Cycling in mobility ecosystem

Cycling, too, deserves a place in the mobility ecosystem. Although not everyone will cycle, those who do reduce pressure on roads and public transport. In cities like Colombo, Kandy, Galle, and Jaffna, even a modest network of protected cycling lanes can encourage more people to choose bicycles for short trips. Cycling infrastructure is relatively inexpensive compared to road widening or flyovers, yet its social and environmental benefits are substantial. A peoplefriendly system recognises that mobility is not only about speed but about choice, and cycling expands the range of choices available to citizens.

Governance is perhaps the most overlooked dimension of transport reform. Sri Lanka’s current system is characterised by institutional fragmentation: the national ministry, provincial councils, local authorities, the police, SLTB, private operators, and various regulatory bodies all play roles, often without coordination. A peoplefriendly system requires a single, empowered regional transport authority for major urban areas—especially the Western Province—that can plan, regulate, contract, and monitor all modes of transport. Such an authority must be insulated from political interference, guided by data, and accountable to the public. Without coherent governance, even the best-designed policies will fail.

Technology can support this transformation, but it must serve people rather than dictate their behaviour. Integrated ticketing systems that allow passengers to use a single card or QR code across buses and trains reduce friction and make transfers seamless. Realtime information through apps, SMS, and digital displays reduces uncertainty and improves the perceived quality of service. Open data policies allow universities, startups, and civil society to analyse performance and propose improvements. Technology should not be a shiny distraction but a tool that enhances reliability, transparency, and user experience.

Cultural change is equally important. Sri Lanka’s transport culture is shaped by impatience, competition, and a sense of individual survival on the road. Changing this culture requires education, enforcement, and the redesign of physical spaces to encourage cooperation rather than conflict. When roads are designed to slow vehicles, when public transport is reliable, when pedestrians are protected, and when drivers are trained and held accountable, behaviour begins to change. Culture follows structure; people behave differently when the environment supports different behaviours.

Economic sustainability

Economic sustainability is another essential pillar. Public transport cannot rely solely on fare revenue; it requires stable, predictable funding. This can come from a mix of government budgets, modest fuel or parking charges, and land value capture around major stations. When public transport improves, land values rise; capturing a portion of this increase allows the system to fund itself sustainably. A peoplefriendly system is therefore not only socially just but economically rational.

Transforming Sri Lanka’s transport system will require a phased, realistic approach. Quick improvements—such as enforcing speed limits, repairing sidewalks near schools, improving lighting at stations, and piloting unified bus contracts—can build public trust. Mediumterm reforms—such as establishing regional transport authorities, modernising rail corridors, and implementing integrated ticketing—create structural change. Longterm goals—such as nationwide integration, transitoriented development, and sustained reductions in road deaths—require patience and political commitment. A peoplefriendly system is not built overnight; it is built through consistent, incremental progress guided by a clear vision.

Ultimately, the question of transport is a question of what kind of society Sri Lanka aspires to be. A society that values human dignity will design systems that protect and empower people. A society that values time will create reliable, efficient services. A society that values equality will ensure that mobility is not a privilege but a right. A peoplefriendly transport system is, therefore, not merely an engineering project but a moral project. It reflects a belief that every person—whether a schoolchild in Monaragala, a garment worker in Katunayake, an elder in Kurunegala, or a commuter in Colombo—deserves to move through the country safely, comfortably, and with dignity.

SL at a crossroads

Sri Lanka stands at a crossroads. The old model of endless road widening, unregulated competition, and privatevehicle dominance has reached its limits. Congestion grows, pollution worsens, and the social costs of unsafe roads continue to mount. The alternative is not a utopian dream, but a practical, achievable vision grounded in global best practices and local realities. It is a vision in which buses and trains form an integrated network; in which walking and cycling are safe and pleasant; in which women and children travel without fear; in which rural communities remain connected; and in which the daily journey becomes not a burden but a reflection of a society that values its people.

We urge the Minister of Transport to give urgent attention to the insights shared here and the historical precedents of Colombo’s transit system. It is vital that the Ministry recognises the transition from a once-functional electrified network to our current oil-dependent gridlock as a call to action. By prioritising the revitalisation of high-capacity, integrated, sustainable public transport, the government can directly address the unnecessary fuel waste and economic drain that currently burden the nation, and make the system a passenger friendly system.

by Professor M.W. Amarasiri de Silva

Features

Trincomalee oil tank farm: An engineering marvel

Published

6 hours ago

2026/03/23

Thilina Walpola

A section of the Trincomalee oil tanks farm

The ownership of Trincomalee port was highly contested by the Dutch, French and British as Gateway to Bay of Bengal in 1700s and 1800s. The famous seafarer Vice Admiral Horatio Nelson, as a fleet Midshipman (trainee Naval officer) on board HMS Seahorse, in 1775, wrote in his journal “Trincomalee is the Finest Natural Harbour in the World”.

What Lord Nelson realised as a Midshipman was the immense Strategic, Natural and Commercial value of the port, considered as one of the deepest natural Harbours in the World.

Vice Admiral Sir Edward Hughes (British Royal Navy) and Vice Admiral Bailli De Suffern (French Navy) had sea battles to take control of Trincomalee from 25th August to 3rd September 1782.

French Forces attempted to capture Trincomalee on 30th August 1782, for supremacy in India and Ceylon (Sri Lanka) Eastern Coast, which prompted the Royal Navy to come into action. Even though both fleets had heavy casualties (British – 51 killed, 283 wounded. French – 82 killed, 255 Wounded), but no ships were lost.

The British captured Trincomalee on 31st August 1795 from the Dutch after taking over Fort Ostenburg.

It is interesting to note Famous Admiral Lord Nelson and Trincomalee have a special connection. One of the Ships built after the death of Admiral Nelson in 1805 was named HMS Trincomalee; it was built in 1812. HMS Trincomalee is still active; it was restored and is now the National Museum of the Royal Navy at Hartlepool, England.

The US National Anthem “The Star- spangled Banner “was written by Francis Scott Key on 14th September 1814, onboard a truce ship at Baltimore harbour, Maryland, USA! It is pertinent to note that Sri Lanka Navy’s latest addition, ex-US Coast Guard Ship DECISIVE (P 628) started her 14,775 nautical miles journey, longest journey by a Sri Lanka Navy Ship, was from Baltimore to Colombo/ Trincomalee, as explained in my previous article.

Trincomalee was under British rule for a very long time. Their fleet was stationed in Trincomalee and the British developed Trincomalee into a major ship repair and logistical facility for their ships. Larger War ships, like Aircraft Carriers, Destroyers and Frigates, were stationed at Trincomalee.

During the 1930s, the British realised that there should be an Energy Storage facility between Oil fields of Saudi Arabia/ Arabian Gulf and Far East Asia, and designed and built a huge Oil Storage Facility at Trincomalee. The word HUGE is appropriate; as they built 100 tanks, each tank can contain ten thousand (10,000) MT of oil. So, an oil tank farm with a capacity of one million metric tons (one BILLION LITERS) was commissioned by 1935. As per their estimates at that time, the strategic oil stocks in Trincomalee were sufficient for their fleet for more than six months! Every country has Strategic Oil reserves except Sri Lanka! Even India stored part of their Strategic Oil Reserve at Trincomalee with the Indian Oil Company.

Building of tanks was a major engineering project; it was an ENGINEERING MARVEL in the 1930s!

IOC tanks on lower tank farm

Four-inch thick best quality Manchester Steel was used to build these tanks. Each plate is hand-riveted. They were built in such a way that if one tank caught fire, the fire would not spread to others. Pipe lines are connecting all tanks, which could be isolated or interconnected. The “TANK FARM “IS IN TWO SECTIONS – Lower tanks (numbering 39) closer to sea and Jetty (known as Oiling jetty) and Upper tanks on the hillock numbering 61 tanks. The Lower tank farm tanks, closer to the sea, were covered with thick concrete walls, to avoid attack by enemy small raid groups.

Huge Pump house, with very powerful pumps, was installed to pump oil to Upper tanks.All this happened almost 100 years ago!

As advancement of Imperial Japanese Army on the Asian Front and German Forces advancement on the Western Front was stopped by Allied forces in 1944/45 and World War Two ended earlier than anticipated due to US Atomic bombing of Japan. Trinco tanks were not fully utilised.

However, the British knew the importance of the Trincomalee harbour.

When we got Independence in 1948, we signed a Defence Pact with the British so that they could retain control of Trincomalee harbour, the oil tank farm and the China bay airfield.

It was on 15 October 1957, the British handed over the Trincomalee port. The then Prime Minister S W R D Bandaranaike was the Chief Guest at the event and the Royal Ceylon Navy Guard of Honour, commanded by Lieutenant Basil Gunasekara, proudly presented the salute to the Prime Minister. After a long time, the the Royal Navy Ensign (flag) was lowered at Trincomalee Naval Base and the Royal Ceylon Navy flag was hoisted. A plaque, erected near the Trincomalee Naval, has information about this historic occasion. The British ultimately left our shores almost after 162 years – (1795 to 1957).

In the 1987 Indo- Sri Lanka Accord, we agreed to develop the Trincomalee Oil Tank farm jointly with the Indian government. Later on, in the Lower tank farm, we gave 14 tanks to Indian Oil Company (IOC) and 24 tanks to the Ceylon Petroleum Company (CPC).

In January 2022, the remaining 61 tanks in the Upper tank farm were allocated for a CPC- IOC joint venture (51:49 shares) and the Managing Director of CPC was appointed the Chairman of this joint venture and CEO of Lanka IOC as Managing Director of the new company. Initially, Rs 100 million (51 million from CPC and 49 million from IOC) was allocated for renovation and development of these 61 tanks on the Upper tank farm. Feasibility study was done by a renowned international company.

I worked voluntarily as the Chairman of Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd., (TPTL) for six months in 2023. It was fascinating to work in Trincomalee, where I spent most of my Naval career.

The present situation in the World has proved what the British thought almost 100 years ago is even valid today!

As per my information, Lanka IOC uses all its tanks to store fuel and sometimes do offshore bunkering of ships also. It built TWO MORE NEW TANKS and they have 16 tanks now. All are operational.

The CPC tanks remain unused except three leased to Prima Flour Mills Ltd., for storing fresh water.

The Upper tank farm is being renovated at a very slow pace. Out of 61 tanks on the Upper tank farm, tank No 91 was destroyed during World War II due to Japanese aircraft bombing. There is no tank number 99! (The British also thought 99 was a bad number?). Instead, we have number 101! Tank number 102 is partly built at the top of the hillock! So, that means the British had ideas of expanding tank farms BEYOND 100 TANKS!

The Election Manifesto of the National People’s Front, led by President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, clearly stated that “Trincomalee Oil Tank Farm will be renovated with support of a friendly Foreign County”.

At least now, we should start it without further delay. As a former Chief of Naval Staff of India told me “Ravi, you are sitting on a GOLD MINE at the Trincomalee Naval Base; without realising the value of it”! How true!

By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

Features

The scientist who was finally heard

Published

6 hours ago

2026/03/23

Thilina Walpola

Asha

Dr Asha de Vos PhD: A Sri Lankan voice that reshaped Global Marine Science

Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow, Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.

At a recent United Nations (UN) event marking International Women’s Day, a striking portrait of a Sri Lankan lady scientist appeared on the screen, alongside a simple but powerful declaration: “They told me I was not capable – so I made a discovery that changed the world.”

The scientist was Dr Asha de Vos. For many Sri Lankans, this moment passed with little notice, confined to a brief news item in the newspapers. Yet for all that, in that global forum, her presence represented something far greater than personal recognition. It marked the arrival of a Sri Lankan scientist on the world stage, not as a participant, but as a pioneer.

A Discovery that Challenged a Conventional Precept

For decades, marine biology held a well-settled view: blue whales, the largest of mammals, in fact, the largest animals ever to have lived, are migratory. This assumption was repeated in textbooks, scientific articles, and accepted without question.

Dr Asha de Vos challenged it. Working in the waters off Sri Lanka, often with limited resources and without the extensive institutional backing available in more developed research environments, she identified a population of blue whales that does not migrate. These whales remain in Sri Lankan waters throughout the year.

This finding was not just an accident, a chance occurrence, nor an incidental observation. It was a carefully orchestrated scientific expedition that overturned a fundamental assumption about one of the most studied animal species on Earth. In doing so, it reminded the scientific world of an essential truth: that knowledge is never complete, and that even the largest creatures in the oceans can still hold secrets. It showed that such secrets of behaviour that were detected can have a profound impact on the aftermath, as far as the world is concerned.

Global Consequences of a Local Discovery

The implications of this work extended far beyond academic debate. A non-migratory population of blue whales is inherently vulnerable. Concentrated in a relatively small geographic area, these animals face risks that migratory populations can avoid.

The waters off Sri Lanka are among the busiest shipping routes in the world. Large vessels pass through areas that coincide with whale habitats, creating a significant risk of fatal collisions. Dr de Vos’s research brought international attention to this issue. It contributed to changes in shipping practices, including the adjustment of routes and the introduction of measures aimed at reducing whale-ship strikes of blue whales. In this way, her work moved beyond theory to influence real-world policy and conservation efforts.

Science Rooted in Sri Lanka

Equally significant is the context in which this work was carried out. Dr de Vos has consistently advocated for the leadership of local scientists in studying local ecosystems. Her position challenged the long-standing pattern where research in developing regions is often led by external actors. Quite appropriately and most beautifully, she describes the phenomenon as “parachute science”, the practice of Western Scientists collecting data in developing countries and then leaving without training or investing in the locals or the region.

To address this imbalance, she founded Oceanswell, Sri Lanka’s first marine conservation research and education organisation. Through this initiative, she has worked to build local capacity, inspire young researchers, and promote a deeper understanding of marine ecosystems. Her work has demonstrated that world-class science can emerge from a little country like Sri Lanka, not as an extension of external efforts, but as an independent and authoritative effort.

A Journey of Determination

Those widely quoted words attributed to Dr Asha de Vos are not mere rhetoric. They reflect the reality of a journey marked by doubt, resistance, and the challenge of pursuing an unconventional path. Marine biology was not an established field in Sri Lanka when she began her career. Opportunities were limited, and the path was uncertain. Yet, through persistence and conviction, she transformed these limitations into magnificent opportunities.

Dr de Vos has always dreamed of being an “adventure-scientist”. Her achievements include being the first and only Sri Lankan to obtain a PhD in marine mammal research, a distinction that underscores both her pioneering role and the barriers she has overcome. Today, Dr. de Vos is recognised internationally as a leading voice in marine conservation. Her work is cited in scientific literature, her insights are sought in policy discussions, and her presence is felt in global forums. The recognition she received at the United Nations is just one reflection of this standing.

However, her significance to Sri Lanka extends beyond her scientific contributions. She graphically represents the potential of Sri Lankan scholarship. She illustrates what can be achieved through determination and intellectual rigour. The lady serves as an inspiration to a new generation of scientists who may choose to follow paths that are not yet well defined.

A Moment That Should Not Pass Unnoticed

That such an achievement received only limited attention locally is a matter for reflection. Nations are often judged not only by the accomplishments of their citizens, but by the ability of those very same nations to recognise and celebrate them.

Dr Asha de Vos’s work has altered global understanding, influenced international policy, and established a new field of scientific inquiry within Sri Lanka. These are not minor achievements of limited consequence. They are contributions of lasting, immense, and seminal significance.

The image displayed at the United Nations, accompanied by a single sentence, captured a story of perseverance and discovery. It spoke of a brilliant scientist who refused to accept limitations imposed by others. It told of a discovery that reshaped certain types of scientific understanding. It brought to light a voice that, though once doubted, is now heard across the world. It is a voice that our beautiful Pearl of the Indian Ocean would do ever so well to listen to.

This author has not had the honour or the privilege of even meeting Dr Asha de Vos, but is so very pleased to declare that all of us should be so proud of a Sri Lankan Lady Scientist who is recognised, acknowledged and celebrated by the entire scientific world.

We salute you, Madam, for all of your splendid achievements!

Dr B. J. C. Perera