Features
UNESCO and having a good time in Paris with Lankan friends
Excerpted from volume ii of the Sarath Amunugama auobiography
“Since war begins in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that the foundations for peace should be sought’
UNESCO Motto
At the age of 43 I became a senior official of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization. Is a specialized body of the UN on a par with FAO, WHO and ILO. After the war, by common consent, the UNO was located in New York, while the other four agencies were set up in three major European cities – FAO in Rome, WHO and ILO in Geneva and UNESCO in Paris. Needless to say the relevant host countries were happy to accommodate the UN and provide many local services as part of their responsibility.
A large number of nationals provided basic services while the professional staff represented the UN’s global membership. The first Director-General of UNESCO was the British scientist Julian Huxley, the brother of Aldous, who is credited with writing the motto quoted at the head of this chapter. He established the ground rules of the organization which were very British in character. The DG in my time was Mahtar M’Bow from Senegal who, though alleged to favour Africans, made an attempt to have a fair distribution of positions.
The fact that Sri Lanka was not over represented unlike the Indians and Bangladeshis may have been an added factor in my favour when I became a candidate for the post of Director of the IPDC. India had a strong candidate for the post in Unnikrishnan who was the Managing Director of the Press Trust of India. I knew Unni when he was the PTI correspondent in Colombo before he was promoted to be its General Manager.
He had invited me for some PTI seminars held in Bombay after I became the Secretary of the Ministry of State. I was
lodged in a hotel in the heart of the city which had been the haunt of Krishna Menon when he was a member of the Lok Sabha and Minister in the Nehru Cabinet. The hotel was close to the PTI office. That honour did not work for me since I came down with viral hepatitis after my stay in Bombay.
There was also a whole host of African candidates including a well-regarded Professor of Communications from a Nigerian University. As mentioned earlier, on being selected I was asked to assume duties at the earliest possible date. I replied that I will be available from September 1, 1982.
UNESCO Headquarters is located in two buildings which are close to each other in a salubrious quarter of Paris. The main building designed by Le Corbousier with sculptures by Henry Moore outside and paintings by Picasso inside, is in Place de Fontenoy facing the main entrance of the French Ecole Militaire which is the legendary army school in which Napoleon was trained.
Close-by across the road is the newer ‘Batiment’ [building] built in Brutalist style which houses the Culture and Communications division and branch offices of the embassies of the countries represented in UNESCO. In the basement is also the duty free commissary which is well patronized by the staff and is invariably choc-a-block, particularly on Fridays when the ever thirsty officials stock up for their weekend parties.
The DG, M’Bow, the former Minister of Education of Senegal, was located in the Fontenoy building which had a floor for his administrative staff. He also had an apartment on the top floor in which he lived with his wife and where occasionally he invited us for dinner particularly if it was in honour of a visiting dignitary from our part of the world. Once he invited the visiting Balangoda Ananda Maitriya Thero for a ‘dane’ in his residence, where we were the helper. The reputed monk was very old and not in his proper senses. In his ‘anusasana’ he said that the world was held aloft by tortoises. My friend an Indian architect who translated the priest’s words into French told me that he had edited out a lot of the gibberish so that the highly educated audience would not laugh at the old monk.
Another dinner was held for a few of us who were to accompany M’Bow to New Delhi to participate in it seminar on communication and also meet Indian PM Indira Gandhi. Indira was a fluent French speaker who had represented India in the Governing Council of UNESCO when she was a member of Shastri’s cabinet. So no translators were needed and our DG, who was always nervous about his poor English, had a long and pleasant conversation with the Indian PM.
Secretariat
The IPDC office was located in a tower in the new building in Rue Miollis. Top levels of the tower was occupied by the communications division of UNESCO. Gerard Bolla as ADG ruled the roost from the topmost floor. In the floor below were the ‘intellectuals’ led by Antonio Pasquali [Venezuela] and Alan Hancock [UK] who together with us at IPDC, dealt with the conceptual issues of the New Information Order.
Two floors below were taken by the `engine room’ which comprised of media specialists who provided training and advice to national media institutions of the ‘Third World. They were basically technicians who could fix practical problems of the media. They were led by Pierre Naveaux, a hard drinking Belgian who had been the head of a Film Unit there and his assistant Frank Goodship [Canada].
There were also numerous broadcasters who were led by a Philipino ‘Choy’ Arnaldo. Choy had been with Radio Veritas, the Catholic Broadcasting station located in Manila.
Later Lakshman Rao [India] joined Hancock on a short term assignment. They were a motley crew who were somewhat nervous about the interest in a new Information Order by member states and the establishment of IPDC. Earlier they had an easy time girdling the globe advising radio stations and film units. My challenge was to coopt their services and their budgets to achieve the objectives determined by the Governing Council of IPDC which were to create a transformation in global media capability and its practice.
In the IPDC secretariat I was assisted by Claude Ondobo from the Camaroons who had his work cut out because of the demands of the emerging African countries for both technical assistance
and training. The majority of African members in our governing council came from authoritarian states which were getting a ‘bad press’ in western media and wanted IPDC to do something about it.
Since our focus was on developing countries I encouraged Claude to increase African participation in IPDC activities and also sought funding for those projects by creating ‘funds in trust’ with money from
Scandinavian countries.
Our ADG Bolla also made sure that the IPDC had good secretarial assistance. The leader of our support staff was the experienced Madame Hoareau, an English woman married to a Frenchman, and who had earlier been Bolla’s private secretary. It was a kind gesture on his part to help me who was new to the UN bureaucratic practices which entailed a lot of form filling. I also had the feeling that this placement helped the ADG to keep tabs on the activities of the IPDC.
The UNESCO establishment from M’Bow downwards was apprehensive that due to political interests, IPDC could function outside their chain of command. I am sure that Hoareau would have given good reports about us because Bolls soon began to treat us as his favourites. The second secretary of our office was Nadia, a friendly and capable lady of emigre Russian stock, who by a happy coincidence was earlier married to a Frenchman named Jacques Renault whose family had tea plantations in Talawakelle.
Jacques was close to Sri Lankans in Paris and would unfailingly attend our embassy parties. Nadia had visited Talawakelle as a young bride and had good memories of Sri Lanka though by this time she was divorced and Jacques had married a well-known artist who too was a regular participant at our embassy soirees. Once, when on holiday back home, I visited Jacque’s tea property. The present Tea Research Institute is located on lands acquired from his company before they were restricted to fifty acres by land reform.
There is a beautiful old church on this property, but it is badly neglected now. In addition to the regular staff we also had a young French `stagiare’ who helped Claude with his African projects. This over allocation of resources to IPDC was queried by UNESCO’s staff management committee of which Ananda Guruge was a member. Bolls and I appeared before them and after listening to us the committee decided to approve the current allocation of staff. That was the only time I had to cross swords with the management reviewers of UNESCO.
Paris — `The City of Light’
Right from my school days Paris was the city of my dreams. That fascination may have begun with the stories which Mr. Kannangara, our middle school teacher had spun for us – tales of the Count of Monte Cristo. Once a week he transported us to pre-revolutionary France when narrating the adventures of Jean Valjean and his adversaries. At about the same time we saw films about the ‘Scarlet Pimpernel’ who spirited noblemen away from Paris and the guillotine.
In our University days we were inspired by the French Trotskyites and as supporters of the LSSP read every instruction sent to our leaders by the ‘revolutionaries’ of the Fourth International based in Paris. The struggles between the different lines’ espoused by Trotskyite intellectuals within the Fourth International as played out in LSSP tactics on the ground in Sri Lanka, which varied from time to time, were diligently explained to us by Doric de Souza in his weekly clandestine lectures to us in Peradeniya. As the poet Wordsworth said of the French Revolutionary era, which may well be used to describe us in our youth; “Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive; but to be young was very heaven”.
Though I settled down in Paris in 1982 I had visited ‘The City of Light’ every year since 1977. From my first visit in the 1960s I had attended several meetings in Paris and also spent time with friends there. For instance I was in Paris in 1981 when the French Socialist Party won the Presidency with Francois Mitterand as its candidate. We joined in the partying on the Left Bank which went on till morning and saw red roses, the attractive symbol devised by the ‘avant garde’ marketeers of Mitterand, that were strewn everywhere.
On another occasion, as I have related earlier, I joined the multitude of young men who accompanied the cortege of Jean Paul Sartre for burial at the cemetery in Montparnasse. I had witnessed the massive May Day rallies organized by the CGT or the Communist Party’s Trade Union as it wended its way from the heart of Paris – the Bastille. Equally impressive were the military parades marking the Fourth of July. I naturally looked forward to an interesting stay not only in my new job but also in the wonderfully artistic city which had been mercifully spared the bombings which had obliterated cities like Berlin, Dresden and parts of London.
My first task was to find lodgings till I could get more spacious accommodation when my family arrived. I was lucky in that my many friends helped me to settle in comfortably. Three of my best friends in Paris – Manu Ginige, Premachandra and Navaz – were all living in apartments in a building in Rue de Lilas in Paris 19, close to the Buttes Chaumont. This had been once the Bohemian quarter of Paris and was now a Communist stronghold.
Premachandra was a Communist who had as a young man first migrated to Moscow from Colombo. After some time there he had crossed over to Paris and married Irene, a girl of Greek nationality .He had raised a family of two girls and a boy and was working as a ‘cordon bleu’ chef in Radio France. He was missing Sri Lanka badly and had managed to persuade his friends, Ginige and Navaz, to occupy flats in his building. There was another vacant flat in the building and I rented it.
Our presence was duly noted by other flat mates, many of them Communists, who jocularly called our building ‘Maison Sri Lankaise’ or Sri Lanka House. Prema and his wife loved to cook and most evenings were spent in his or Manu’s flat eating, drinking and discussing politics. Any Sri Lankan politician coming to Paris – but particularly Dharmasiri Senanayake their long standing friend – was entertained by the Premachandras.
All the visitors were asked to bring along were Sri Lankan newspapers and ‘pol’ arrack which he shared with us. Since Prema was a practicing chef who used to cook for the bigwigs of Radio France, he would try out his classical French menus on us. Needless to say we were happy to oblige him and compliment him on his mastery of French cuisine. On some Sundays we would go with him to the local arrondissement market to see him buying fish and poultry after examining and prodding the product.
The local charcouterie staff reserved special cuts of meat for him and the butcher was happy to be complimented by a cordon bleu chef. After about six months in Rue de Lilas all of us began to put on weight because of Premachandra’s sauces and sugary confections. Prema who was smoker into the bargain, got a heart attack to which he succumbed several years later. His only exercise was a Sunday stroll in the nearby park selling the Communist Party newspaper, ‘Le Humanite’.
Another visitor to Prema’s apartment was Esmond Wickremesinghe. He too was fond of good food though he had been warned about his health. Later we arranged an apartment for him with cooking facilities, close to UNESCO headquarters. A staffer from the embassy Abeyratne would cook his cholesterol and sugar free meals as ordered by the doctor. Whenever I hosted a party in my apartment I would invite Ananda Guruge and his wife Sujatha as well as Daniel Lefevre of UTA who also loved good food, to join our gang.
Since Manu and Navaz were embassy staffers at that time I would invariably join them in their soirees. Duty free liquor flowed freely at these parties and friends of Sri Lanka from all professions would congregate to support the embassy. Among the regulars were Bernard de Gaulle, a nephew of the famous leader, Jacques Renault and his wife who were artists, Daniel Lefevre and local heads of travel Companies like Neckermann, Club Mediteranee, UTA and Accor.
Some of the big wigs of French companies operating in Colombo were also present sometimes with their Sri Lankan representatives who were visiting Paris. A smattering of Asian ambassadors and local businessmen were also invited. Though usually it was bitterly cold outside the parties suitably fuelled by hot drinks and chillied curries went on late into the night. Sri Lankan parties were popular since unlike the Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis we served vintage scotch and champagne at our parties.
After Ananda Guruge became the Ambassador he stopped serving liquor and attendance dropped dramatically, especially from among the foreign guests. In Paris there were Embassy parties almost every evening as most countries were represented in France. Each Embassy wanted to outdo the other in attracting the Parisian elite. Good champagne and top of the order whiskeys were a great incentive for inveterate party goers who went from one embassy to another and were not averse to bad mouthing the poorer embassies.
by Dr. Anushka Kahandagamage
Last week began with the disturbing news of a brutal sexual assault on a female doctor at the Anuradhapura Hospital. From the moment of birth, women are taught to conform to societal expectations of how they should dress and behave, which shapes their sense of vulnerability. This feeling of being at risk knows no boundaries—whether it’s social status, wealth, or education, women experience it universally. It follows them everywhere, day and night. Even in the presence of men who consider themselves progressive, women still feel unsafe. Ideological beliefs or personal views don’t change this reality—women are constantly exposed to the threat of harm. Even when fully covered, from head to toe, they are not immune. In Western societies, which pride themselves on freedom and equality, women still face fear and danger. Vulnerability persists, even in their own homes or among those closest to them.
In a country like Sri Lanka, ravaged by decades of war, the pressure on women is even more intense. This is largely due to the celebration of military masculinities as the norm. In general, masculinity constantly tries to distance itself from femininity. These divisions are deepened by military models. To be seen as a ‘real man,’ one must embody military traits. This doesn’t necessarily mean being part of an official army or wearing a uniform; rather, any man who adopts characteristics like violence and physical risk-taking aligns with this military masculinity model. Nearly thirty years of war have normalised and solidified these military ideals, glorifying them more than ever. In such a society, women are subjected to and oppressed by these restrictive and harmful models of masculinity.
Men’s Unions
Referring back to the unfortunate incident involving the doctor, the Government Medical Officers’ Association (GMOA) organised a symbolic strike in protest. While it’s important to acknowledge their support for their female colleague, the issue is not solved by the strike itself or by the reactive nature of professional actions that only address problems after they have occurred. The GMOA has two presidents, four vice presidents, six assistant secretaries, a treasurer, an editor, two assistant editors, and thirty-five committee members, making a total of 51 office-bearers. Of these, only one committee member is a woman, meaning 50 of the board members are men. Meanwhile, the ratio of women to men in the medical community is roughly equal, and the number of female medical students is increasing, surpassing that of male students. In this context, the lack of female representation in the GMOA is deeply concerning.
Some may argue that it is the fault of female doctors for not running for these positions, but the real reason women avoid trade union politics is that these spaces are often unwelcoming. Women’s voices are suppressed and ignored, and many women do not feel these environments are safe or inclusive. The overwhelming male presence discourages women from participating, which is why they remain underrepresented in these spaces.
As a result, the specific challenges, insecurities, and forms of marginalisation faced by female doctors are not addressed within the trade union politics of doctors. These issues are never recognised as professional concerns. The troubling incident in Anuradhapura is not an isolated case; it is part of a broader pattern of difficulties faced by female doctors, with these issues going unheard by higher authorities. Therefore, instead of reacting after an incident occurs, the GMOA—currently shaped by political agendas—should take steps to create long-term solutions to address the problems of female doctors and bring them to the attention of the government. One key step would be to create a space within the GMOA where women can contribute their ideas and share their concerns. Rather than maintaining trade unions dominated by male professionals, unions should be established that include women’s voices as well. A platform should be created where women can actively engage in politics and contribute to shaping the future of the profession.
Women’s Unions
Additionally, the female doctor has the opportunity to speak up for herself due to her professional status. But what about the women who come from humble backgrounds? Do they have a platform to raise their voices regarding their troubles? Women’s voices should never be defined by their social class, status, or profession. A woman picking tea leaves in a garden may face harassment from someone more powerful and influential, yet this common form of abuse often goes unnoticed by society.
She may choose silence to protect her job. Similarly, a woman working the night shift in a garment factory may have to endure harassment and abuse without a chance to speak out. Many women in this country lack the platform a high-ranking professional woman has to raise their voices when they experience such mistreatment. This doesn’t mean that the problems faced by high-ranking professional women should be dismissed. On the contrary, it highlights that all women are equally ensnared by the economic, political, and patriarchal systems that dominate society. We all, to varying degrees, participate in upholding these oppressive social, political, economic, and military patriarchal structures. The crucial task is to identify these oppressive models and create counter-narratives that can challenge and dismantle them.
Models and narratives that perpetuate gender inequality need to be challenged and dismantled, and women’s active participation in politics is crucial in this process. These models, which often portray women as passive or secondary, limit their agency and reinforce systemic discrimination. To break free from these constraints, it is essential to create counter-narratives that highlight women’s leadership, resilience, and power. These counter-narratives not only challenge existing stereotypes but also empower future generations to believe in their ability to shape society.
Women’s participation in politics is vital to this shift. However, political engagement goes far beyond traditional party politics. It involves advocating for one’s rights, raising a voice for the marginalised, and sharing personal and collective stories that highlight the struggles women face. This form of political engagement helps to create awareness, foster solidarity, and inspire action within broader society. For example, women’s involvement in activism and trade unions plays an equally crucial role in challenging the status quo. Activism allows women to directly confront and protest against systemic injustices, while trade unions provide a platform for collective bargaining and the fight for fair working conditions.
Maybe Cassandra is small-minded venturing to the world stage to air her personal opinions. But opinions are allowed and speech and writing permitted in this island of ours now mercifully peaceful. So, she will air her views.
Opinions on the Trump-Zelensky confrontation
Cass cheers President Zelensky after his February 28 meeting with President Trump in a media crowded Oval Office. He was put down, nay, insulted by Trump and his Vice President. He admirably held his own and did not apologise even though he was shown the door.
Zelensky but were tactful. After all, good relations with one of the two largest, most powerful and economically elevated countries had to be maintained. They did not fault Zelensky, who offered no apology to the Prez of the US. After all, the insults heaped on him for his dress, his not being grateful to Trump, etc., he was shown the door. The outcome of negotiations between the US and Ukraine brokered by the Head of Saudi Arabia are still to be known.
Not so muted were the replies to Prez Trump (actually to Musk, who seems to be the puppeteer in the White House) regards his unreasonable tariffs, the latest on metal and steel products imported to the US. PM Justin Trudeau was outspoken about the unfairness of the tariffs and replied Canada was also doing likewise and added the corollary that never would Canada be a state of the US. Even the likes of Cassandra were shocked at the audacity of Musk to even suggest such a monstrously absurd idea.
In favour of Trump
A Sri Lankan, now a US citizen, mentioned how many ex-Sri Lankans, now Americans, are of the Republican Party and so must be approving of Trump as Prez. They are, she added, the rich ex-Sri Lankans, mostly doctors who have done very well in the US.
Of course, everyone and anyone is free in their choices. Dr Upul Wijayawardhana in his article What not to do in The Island of Wednesday March 12 writes: “I must say that I quite like Trump and admire him as a straight-talking politician. He keeps to his words however atrocious they sound! Unfortunately, most critics overlook the fact that what Trump is doing is exactly what he pledged during his election campaign …”
As Cassandra wrote earlier, all are free to make choices. Dr W is brave to declare his admiration for a politico who is being disapproved of universally. What Cass does not agree with is Dr W, while saying “the behaviour of Trump and VP Vance were hardly praiseworthy”, he censors the smaller nation Ukrainian: “but Zelensky did what exactly he should not do. After all, he was on a begging mission and beggars can’t be choosers! He behaves like professional beggars in Colombo who throw money back when you give a small amount!” Cass disagrees with Dr W. Zelensky was on a visit to sign an agreement for the US to exploit Ukraine’s mineral deposits; tied up with aid and arms to war against Russia but not on a begging mission per se. And they were both Presidents so there cannot be superiority at such a meeting.
Banker to Prime Minister
Looks very much like Canada is girding up its loins to fight an aggressive USA or rather the combination of Donald Trump and Elon Musk. Justin Trudeau has given notice he wishes to relinquish his premiership to spend more time with his family. And, his and the Liberal Party’s choice to vote as leader of the Party and thus PM designate is an ex-banker. No intelligence is needed to guess why this choice. To counter the trade and tariff wars instigated by Trump.
The Liberal Party of Canada, founded in 1867, is the longest serving and oldest active federal political party and had dominated federal politics in Canada for much of its history, holding power for almost 70 years in the last century. Pierre Trudeau’s name stands out as Party Leader and PM from 1968 to 79 and 1980 to 84. Son Justin held power from 2015. From March 14, 2025, Mark Carney will hold the fort, mostly against the economically conquering and property eyeing Trump.
Born in 1965 in Fort Smith, Northwest Territories, Carney was raised in Edmonton, Alberta. He graduated in economics from Harvard University in 1988 and earned a Master’s degree and doctorate from the University of Oxford in 1993 and ‘95. After holding various positions at Goldman Sachs, he joined the Bank of Canada as Deputy Governor in 2003. The next year he was named senior associate deputy minister for the Department of Finance Canada. He was head of the Canadian Central Bank until 2013, after which he was appointed Governor of the Bank of England, leading it through Brexit and the Covid lockdown. He left in 2020.
Listening to a couple of videos of his acceptance speech as Leader, Liberal Party, he appeared to be of statesman quality. He is married to Diana Fox, an economist he met in London. They have four daughters, the eldest an ardent environmentalist.
Farewell of Trudeau
Cass listened to a video recording of Justin Trudeau’s farewell address to the Liberal Party. It was noteworthy. His teenage daughter introduced him and said he had given his life to the Liberal Party and Canada and it was now important that he spend undivided time with his family of wife and three children
Justin Pierre James Trudeau was born in 1971 in Ottawa, the eldest son of Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau. Holds a BA degree in English from McGill University and a BEd from the University of British Columbia. He taught in secondary school until in 2008 he was elected an MP and in 2013 as leader of the Liberal Party and Prime Minister in 2015, the second youngest PM in Canadian history.
As Cass mentioned, his farewell speech was excellent, speaking alternatively in French and English with French portions translated to English. He recalled all that Canada had achieved: true democracy and people’s rights, including women’s right to choose what they wanted in their lives. He said Canada could and would meet challenges, even fight for its sovereignty as Canadians, even the indigenous, united.
In conclusion, Cass surmises the world is still in uproar, in contrast to Sri Lanka. No, that is not true. Doctors are on strike as she writes, extending their one day of stoppage of work, demanding greater protection for women medical personnel. Good demand but bad to strike.
And the Batalanda problem surfaces itself.
By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP& Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc (Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defense Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan
(Extract from book “THOSE WERE THE DAY”)
It was in 1984, 41 years ago, that I returned to Sri Lanka, from India, after completing my Sub Lieutenant Technical course. My new appointment was at the Northern Naval Command and I was based in SLNS Elara shore establishment, in Karainagar.
Six batchmates of mine were also transferred to the North. It was in mid-1984. I now feel that transferring seven batchmates—boisterous Sub Lieutenants—was a very big mistake on the part of the Navy. We had just completed three and a half years in service. Whatever the situation, our parties went on till late at night. Thanks to the Indian food, which we ate for nine months, all of us were very thin.
It is believed that if you want to gain weight you have to drink toddy from the same palm, every day, before lunch. So, we owned one palm each at the Karainagar base. Our toddy tapper, Kandaiah, was paid 30 rupees every month (one rupee per day per one bottle). Kandaiah will mark our bottles and hand them over to the Officers Mess steward to keep them in the refrigerator. (The Navy Officers Mess is called the Ward Room in the Navy parlance). The Naval base in Karinagar, followed the “summer routine” due to the very hot weather in Jaffna. The working hours were from 07.30 hrs to 13.30 hrs. We gathered for lunch around 14.30 hrs, after all the senior officers had left. First, the bottle of fresh chilled Thal toddy, then delicious Navy lunch with sea food or mutton, followed by fruit salad or caramel pudding.
After our heavy lunch, we will rest for one hour in very warm weather and then go to the basketball or tennis courts by 16.00 hrs. Games would go on till sunset. Whether we gained weight that way is a moot question. Soon our ‘Christmas’ came to an end. We were detailed to ‘Mothership-daughter craft operation’. Seven sub-Lieutenants were in Command of seven boats, fiberglass dinghies (FGDs) fitted with 40 HP Out Board Motors. (OBMs). They move faster than fishing boats and our mission was to be attached to bigger ships (Gunboat, OPV or to trawler A521 ) and chase away any Indian bottom trawlers poaching in Sri Lankan waters and catch any smuggling or terrorist boat coming from India. Terrorists camps were situated in the Tamilnadu coast at that time. On 1 July 1984, (Sunday), my crew consisting of three junior sailors were due to proceed to sea. Senior most among my sailors was Leading Seaman Hibutugoda with eight years’ experience in the Navy. Able Seaman Buddhakorale, Marine Engineering Mechanic Bandara and I had been in service for less than four years. I was leading this young boat crew to action. During the daily briefing, I was told our boat was to join SLNS Jayasagara. (Offshore Patrol Vessel) anchored off Kachchativu on the Indo-Sri Lanka International Maritime Boundary Line (IMBL) by afternoon.
It was a fairly long sea journey for an FGB fitted with 40HP OBM. But that is how we started fighting terrorists out at sea in 1984!
We left the Karainagar base soon after breakfast at 07.00 hrs and reached Nainativu (Nagadeepa temple) pier by 09.30 hrs. I met Podi Hamudruwo, (a young priest) who was my close friend and worshipped the place, which the Buddha visited. Then we had tea at our Naval Detachment and proceeded back to sea. It was the height of the South West monsoon and usually sea South of Delft Island was very rough during this period. The funnel effect of Delft channel further made the sea even more furious. Leading Seaman . suggested that we turn back and return to base due to rough seas. I was not in agreement. Young and enthusiastic, I was determined to intercept terrorist craft or a smuggling boat in my first patrol on a FGD. So, we continued at a slower speed heading towards SLNS Jayasagara. Our only Navigational aid was a boat magnetic compass. The sea was very rough. As per my calculations, we should reach Mothership (SLNS Jayasagara) by noon.
We packed all our weapons and radio set in polythene covers and kept them safely under the bow- locker of the boat. We were riding the head sea, which tossed our boat up and down like a rubber ball. By 13.00 hrs, I knew something was wrong. Mother ship was not in sight, which was unbelievable. Our efforts to contact mother ship by our 10 Watts radio Communication set was unsuccessful. When we sighted the tall radio mast of Danuskodi (India), we realised that we had come too far away from the Mothership. (Later, we learnt the Mothership had moved to the North of Delft Island due to rough seas and the Naval base at Karainagar had failed to inform them of our departure). We were in Indian waters! We immediately turned back to our reciprocal course and headed towards Nainativu, none of these Islands were within our sight. All our calculations were done on the basis of our speed, boat compass directions and a photocopy of the Northern area sea chart.
The situation took a turn for the worse. After we started heading towards Sri Lankan waters, the wind and the sea coming from the stern of the boat made the handling of the vessel on a steady course extremely difficult. After a few minutes, waves broke on to boat, which started sinking. We jumped off. Marine Engineering Mechanic Bandara held on to a lifejacket. Others were swimming in various directions. The boat disappeared in deep waters within a few minutes. Wooden floorboards of the boat were floating. I grabbed one wooden floorboard and gathered others around it.
Now we were all together. Bandara was a non-swimmer and he wore a life jacket. Others were in a state of shock, even though they could swim. What they saw around them was only the sea with no land in sight.
What about me? I am a good swimmer thanks to Late Master Chief Petty Officer (PTI) PPR Silva, who was our swimming instructor during our cadet time. Further, my training at Britannia Royal Naval College (BRNC), Dartmouth, UK, where Royal Navy takes ‘survival at sea’ training very seriously. They put you in a life raft and keep you out at river Dart for a whole night during winter. Midshipmen from Asian and African countries who did the International Midshipman Course at BRNC with me cursed the Royal Navy instructors the whole night for keeping us exposed to very cold weather in river Dart. I realised the importance of that training in BRNC. However, the situation there was different. We were on a liferaft in River Dart, and not floating in water. Due to the cold weather in the UK during winter, if you fall into water, you will survive only a few minutes. You will die of hypothermia. The situation here in warm Sri Lankan/Indian waters is different. We would survive a longer period, maybe 24 hours.
I ordered all the sailors to stay together by holding on to the floor board and reassured them that help would be forthcoming even though I knew it would take hours to both CO SLNS Jayasagara, my CO SLNS Elara and Commander Northern Naval Area to realise our boat was lost at sea and to initiate Search and Rescue (SAR) mission. Then, I ensured that Bandara was comfortable with his life jacket. I instructed my sailors to just hang on to the wooden floorboard, not to expend energy by trying to swim. My instructions and reassurance had a calming effect on the sailors. We were riding waves, holding onto the floorboards. I told my sailors that a rescue team would come searching for us before sunset. Time as per my waterproof watch was 14.00 hrs.
I had one fear. After returning from India a few weeks back, I watched Steven Spielberg’s award-winning film ‘Jaws’, on man-eating great white sharks. The film is based on Peter Benchley’s 1974 novel JAWS. I thought such a shark would appear and swallow one of us whole. Further I knew for sure that there were no man-eating Sharks in our waters, but silently prayed that sunset would come fast in the hope that sharks would not see us in the dark.
Thankfully, at sun set, we saw an SLAF Aircraft on the horizon. It was patrolling along the India-Sri Lanka IMBL. We were in the Indian waters. Our morale went down to the lowest with sunset. No search would be conducted at night because aircraft and ships/boats could not sight us. We had to keep going. I told the sailors, “The aircraft must have seen us, but as you know, help would not come at night. We should somehow survive till next morning July 2, 1984)”. Something told me I was hoping for the impossible.
I prayed that it would not be the last sunset I was watching. I thought of my parents, my brothers and sisters, especially my sister closest to me, Lalani. who would die in an accident in Russia two years later. She was so close to me and I was her hero in uniform. I was determined to live and keep my sailors alive till morning.
As soon as the sun set, the new moon rose. The new moon was in the waxing crescent phase with only 7% illumination. That meant we were heading for a very dark night. I started singing, joined by my sailors. Leading Seaman Hibutugoda grabbed the ‘mike’ from me. He is a very good singer. I regretted having disregarded his advice that we turn back at Nainativu. A wonderful sailor, he mentioned it again. I respect him even today for his discipline. They were “old school” sailors who believed that”officers were always right”. The new moon started dipping down by the time Hibutugoda stopped singing. I wished if I had my hip flask was filled with rum. If I had been able to give him a tot, Hibutugoda would have gone on singing till dawn.
It became one of the darkest nights after the moon set at 9.00 pm. It was so dark that we could barely see each other. During my training at BRNC, I learnt that our body temperature was in water for a long time and body fluids transferred to sea water by natural osmosis; we would get dehydrated, feel drowsy and then drown. I was worried about my sailors, specially of Bandara, who started shivering. I told the sailors to keep talking and if anyone felt drowsy to inform others without falling asleep. I had the worst fear that one of them would feel drowsy and drown. To keep them alert, I showed them how to find North by reading stars and how to trace the star- conciliation of ‘Orion’.
Then, I asked them to count stars, and anyone whose count was the same as mine, would get a bottle of rum from me when we reached the base. They kept counting and recounting stars!It was the longest night in my life. The sunrise of 2nd July 1984 was the most beautiful one I have seen. I suddenly realized 1st July was Sunday and Indian trawlers would not go fishing on Sundays.
Morale, however, was up with the sunrise. I saw a few smiles. We did something unbelievable. We survived one whole night in water! We had broken all previous records by the Sri Lanka Navy on survival.
I saw Kachchativu Island on the horizon, where a small church was built by a fisherman, who was a survivor of a storm, and dedicated it to St. Anthonys. We were too weak to swim towards the island. I told my sailors that help would come soon. I am a Buddhist and firm believer in God Skanda (God Kataragama) and St. Anthony. When we get a sea appointment, we go to St. Anthony Church, Kochikade and light a candle because St. Anthony is the Saint who looks after seafarers like us. Our ships in the Colombo harbour, before proceeding to the sea on patrol first, turn towards St. Antony’s Church to invoke its blessings. Before taking over my sea appointment in the North, I lit a candle there. I prayed to St. Antony.
A book written by the late
W. T. Jayasinghe, the former External Affairs and Defence Secretary, titled, Kachchativu: And the Maritime Boundary of Sri Lanka, says: “The sea surrounding Kachchativu are
fertile fishing grounds and fishermen from Sri Lanka have from time immemorial been venturing into these waters. It is recorded that fishermen of Point Pedro went as far as Kachchativu to catch turtles during particular seasons.
The Portuguese administered Kachchativu as part of Jaffna and Sri Lanka has been exercising sovereignty and jurisdiction over Kachchativu and its adjacent waters without interruption.” (Page 18)
We were very weak by morning. Around 9.00 hrs / July 2, 1984, we saw a fishing trawler at a distance. They saw us floating and came towards us. I silently prayed again that it should not be an Indian trawler. We the SLN are not the best friends of Indian trawlers poaching in our waters.
It was a Sri Lankan trawler which came from Gurunagar. They took us on board. I looked at my waterproof watch. Time was 10.20 hrs. We had been floating for 20 hours and 20 minutes. All of us survived. The Tamil fishermen were very kind to us. They gave us water to drink, which tasted very sweet. We had not taken any water or food for almost 24 hrs. Most of us were shivering from the cold and had signs of dehydration. The fishermen gave us sugar and bread. This was the breakfast of these humble people. I ate a piece of bread with sugar with tears in my eyes.
I thanked St Antony for being kind to us. I was determined to come back to the small St Antony’s Church in Kachchativu soon to light a candle. Soon we were spotted by a SLN ship. The happy news communicated to the Naval Base, Karainagar “Ravi and his boys are safe. We are bringing them home”. A reception at the Naval base was unbelievable, led by my senior batch Lieutenant Parakrama Samaraweera (Pol Samare or Nalaka who died in Mullaitivu in 1996) and six of my batch mates. All these happened when I was a 21-year old, way back in 1984. Thank god for allowing me to live. Thanks St. Anthony
My mother was 82-years old and she broke her hip in 2017, when I was Navy Commander. She gave me most of the valuable documents she was keeping with her. One of those documents was my horoscope, written by a world-famous astrologer who was a very close friend of my late father. My horoscope was written only up to 1st July 1984, and the astrologer had said the remaining part of it would be completed some other day. My late father or mother did not know why the astrologer had postponed writing the second part. Now, I know why he did so. However, I survived on July 1, 1984.
When I was the Navy Commander, I was given the opportunity by His Lordship, Rt Rev Dr Justin Ganapragasam, Roman Catholic Bishop of Jaffna to build a new St Anthony’s Church at Kachchativu. I was more than happy to do so. Former Navy Commander, Admiral Piyal De Silva was the Northern Naval Commander at the time. I grabbed this golden opportunity with both my hands. Piyal did a wonderful job and built a beautiful church for St. Anthony in six months. I do not miss attending the yearly feast, which attracts thousands of Indian and Sri Lankan devotees. On 1st of July, I remember how lucky we were to survive in the sea.
Our government has reaffirmed its commitment to breaking barriers that limit women’s full participation in the economy, recognizing their vital role in national development. – Dr. Harini Amarasuriya
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