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Remembering heroes on 30th Anniversary of Sri Lanka Navy Special Boats Squadron

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The desk in Flag Lieutenant (Aide-de-Camp) office allocated to late Lt. Commander (SBS) Samantha W. Gallage, WWV, RWP, RSP when Admiral Wijegunaratne was Navy Commander, and Chief of Defence Staff.

By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
(Retired from Sri Lanka Navy)
Former Chief of Defence Staff & Commander of The Navy
Chairman Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd.

Thirty years ago, in Fort Hammenhiel, Karainagar, two officers and 42 sailors volunteered to undergo a special training to start a new unit in our Navy; it was known as the Special Boat Squadron (SBS) or the Naval Commando Unit.

The SBS was formed to fight the LTTE’s Sea Tigers in lagoons and waterways. I was fortunate enough to command the unit and train my men to be the “Bravest of the Brave” in the Navy. I was a young Lieutenant Commander at that time, and my Second-in-Command was more than 12 years junior to me. He was Acting Sub Lieutenant Samantha Waruna Gallage, who hailed from Dehiwala. He was an excellent swimmer and fearless fighter. Samantha was also an excellent boat handler and a top marksman.

We trained together for three months in the Karainagar lagoon to take over boat operations in the Jaffna lagoon from our small detachment at Nagadevannturai.

On 2 November, 1993, our Naval Detachment, in Nagadevanthuri, and the Pooneryn Army Complex, came under heavy attack from the enemy. One by one, small detachments around the main Pooneryn Army Complex fell into the enemy’s hands and more than 700 military personnel were trapped in Pooneryn.

It was not possible to reinforce the besieged Army Complex from the air, Military Commanders decided to send reinforcement troops through an amphibious landing. My unit SBS, the brand-new Naval Special Force, was tasked with carrying out the first wave of landing.

Landing at an enemy beach is a suicidal task. If you want to see what it is like, please watch the first 30 minutes of Steven Spielberg’s award-winning film Saving Private Ryan. It is bloody and chaotic. There is no cover for you until you get to find some by crossing the beach area. Enemy obstacles and gun positions will be there to slow down your advance and there is a 90 percent probability of you getting killed or injured during this dangerous crossing.

Orders were issued. Samantha and I were commanding two Inshore Patrol Craft (commonly known as Water Jets) which carried 15 Commandos each, followed by fiberglass boats carrying six Commandos each. My orders were very clear to Samantha. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would land first because I wanted to assess the situation myself.

The Navy gunboats started bombarding the beach early morning with their 37mm guns, and we were given clearance to do the landing with a lull of heavy gunfire. Our two Water Jets raced towards the Pooneryn beach. Two machine guns of the enemy started firing towards us and suddenly Samantha increased the speed of his Water Jet and landed first and neutralised the enemy machine gun position with his grenade launchers.

I was very angry with Samantha. My orders had been very clear as I told him that I would be landing first. However, I was very happy that he had destroyed enemy gun positions in quick succession, preventing any casualties on our side. The landing was successful and we established the beachhead for our landing craft to beach and reinforcements poured in. Poonaryn landing was a huge success. The SBS was hailed as the “Bravest of the Brave” in the Navy.

After accomplishing our given task successfully, we returned to Karainagar that evening to rest and relax. That night I asked Samantha why he had disobeyed my orders and landed first. He said with tears in his eyes, “Sir, I was afraid that you would be hit by enemy machine gun fire! I did not want you to get killed.” I told him that he would have had the same fate. He said, “Sir, I can die. That’s not a concern. My father and mother will cry. But, not YOU! You have a wife and a son (my son was one year old at that time). That was Samantha!

You should live, Sir! I want to protect you, Sir! (Ironically, I was the only married person in the SBS at that time.)

Such was the calibre of officers and men with whom we went to war. We, as Commanders, were fortunate to have officers like Samantha as our subordinates. They were ready to sacrifice their lives to protect us.

One day, I saw Samantha going through the Navy List, which is a book denoting the seniority and qualifications of naval officers. I asked why he was perusing the Navy List and he said as per the seniority gap between two of us when I became a Rear Admiral, he would still be a Lieutenant Commander. I promised him if I rose to the rank of Rear Admiral one day, I would take him as my Flag Lieutenant [Aide-De-Camp (ADC)]. He was very happy and he had mentioned that even to the SBS senior sailors. We wanted to be together.

Samantha with his son after receiving two gallantry medals from the President on 04 February, 1996 (eight months before his death)

In 1995, Samantha got married to Nishika, a young lady officer of the Navy who was a teacher at our Naval Pre-school. Samantha took part in another difficult landing operation in Nallatantituduwai with then Commanding officer of the SBS, LCdr (SSD) Piyal De Silva (who went on to become the Navy Commander). An enemy RPGs snuffed out the lives of Samantha, Lt (SBS) HKI Nishad and three Sailors. Piyal was lucky; RPGs fired at his boat did not explode.

Samantha made the supreme sacrifice in this SBS and Army Special Forces joint operation at Nallathannithuduvai in Chalai, Jaffna, on 20 October, 1996. His only son, Rumal, was only eight months at the time. He was awarded the Weera Wickrama Vibushanaya for his valour and bravery during this operation. His wife Nishika died in 2011, leaving young Rumal alone in this World.

Now 27 years old, Rumal has been working in Australia on completion of his higher education there, and he should get married soon. He misses his parents whom he is very proud of. Today, the SBS is his family.

Keeping my promise to Samantha, I never took a Flag Lieutenant when I became a Rear Admiral. Even though Samantha was dead, I kept my promise to him. The desk of the Flag Lieutenant office next to my office was kept empty in honour of Samantha when I was Navy Commander and then Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), the highest Military Officer in Sri Lanka. It remained empty until I retired in January 2020.

The late Lieutenant Commander (SBS) Samantha Waruna Gallage, WWV, RWP and Bar, RSP, who was ready to sacrifice his life for my protection. May he attain the Supreme Bliss of Nibbana!



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Cinnamon Tea Stick project aims to reprice Lanka’s tea economy 

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On a humid tea-growing slope in Sri Lanka’s south-western highlands, where mist drifts over the edges of the Sinharaja Forest Reserve, a quiet experiment is attempting to reimagine one of the country’s most enduring export lifelines.

For generations, tea has been both livelihood and legacy for thousands of smallholders across Sri Lanka. Yet beneath the global reputation of Ceylon Tea lies a persistent grievance. Growers say their earnings have remained largely stagnant even as value-added tea products fetch premium prices in overseas markets.

It is against this backdrop that entrepreneur Sarathchandra Ramanayake is promoting a new product he believes could shift more value back to the farmer. The product is called the Cinnamon Green Tea Stick, designed as a portable, bag-free infusion format aimed at premium and health-conscious consumers.

Sarathchandra Ramanayake

World Tea Day, observed on the 21st of this month, adds context to a wider debate about who benefits most from the global tea economy, the planter or the processor.

Ramanayake’s proposal is ambitious. He argues that while tea leaves currently fetch modest farm-gate prices, a redesigned value chain built around specialty processing could generate significantly higher returns. In his model, a kilo of finished product could translate into substantially improved earnings for growers, particularly through export-oriented niche markets.

He said the aim is to move away from bulk commodity pricing and toward value-driven tea consumption. The concept replaces conventional tea bags with a solid stick format infused with cinnamon, sourced from Sri Lanka’s spice-growing regions.

The Kalawana area in the Ratnapura District, where small tea holdings dominate the agricultural landscape, has been identified as a potential production base. In these communities, tea remains the backbone of rural livelihoods and sustains entire families.

Ramanayake said the initiative is not intended to replace traditional supply chains but to complement them. Farmers would continue supplying factories while also contributing selected high-quality leaves for the new production process.

Regulatory approval has been obtained under handmade tea production guidelines from the Tea Board, and a patent application has been submitted under intellectual property provisions.

Early signs of commercial interest are emerging. According to Ramanayake, small export orders have already been received from markets including the United Kingdom, suggesting tentative international interest in the product’s positioning.

The project also highlights long-standing structural issues within Sri Lanka’s tea economy, where value addition, branding and export margins are often concentrated far away from the farmer who produces the leaf.

Ramanayake’s pitch is both economic and social. By incorporating cinnamon, another of Sri Lanka’s globally recognised agricultural exports, the product also seeks to strengthen rural spice growers and diversify farm-level income.

Still, questions remain over whether such boutique innovations can meaningfully shift earnings at scale in an industry shaped by established auction systems and large processors.

For now, the Cinnamon Green Tea Stick sits at the intersection of tradition and innovation, carrying an ambition to reprice the leaf, reframe the farmer’s role and reimagine Sri Lanka’s iconic tea industry for a changing global market.

Text and Pix By Upendra Priyankara Jathungama ✍️

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Admitting a New Investor – Lessons from Dankotuwa – Episode 5

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LESSONS FROM MY CAREER: SYNTHESISING MANAGEMENT THEORY WITH PRACTICE – PART 37

In today’s episode, I will relate several incidents from my final years at Dankotuwa Porcelain and the lessons I learned from them. Looking back now, I realise that these years taught me not only about management, finance, labour relations, and corporate survival, but also about human emotions, loyalty, fear, stubbornness, and resilience. They also marked the gradual end of a very long line of executive appointments that had consumed most of my adult life.

The contract labour issue

Because of the uncertainty of export demand, we had adopted a flexible system of recruiting some employees on fixed-term contracts or through labour suppliers. However, unlike many organisations, we took great care to ensure that these employees were not treated as second-class workers. In practice, they enjoyed almost all the benefits of permanent employees. If they served beyond a stipulated period, they were entitled to gratuity as well. We also had to comply with stringent labour and ethical compliance standards imposed by our foreign buyers, many of whom conducted regular audits.

A group of these employees had completed their two-year fixed-term contracts. Due to the uncertain external environment and fluctuating orders, we were unable to offer permanency. Instead, we offered another fixed-term contract for two years.

To our surprise, all of them refused and wanted permanent jobs which were too risky to offer in a volatile environment.

Despite repeated discussions and assurances from the Head of Human Resources, they insisted on nothing short of permanency. They would not budge. Finally, and very reluctantly, I instructed security not to permit them into the premises from the following day, because technically their contracts had expired.

The next morning, the entire group gathered outside the gate. They remained there until around ten o’clock before dispersing. Later, I heard that they were gathering at the residence of a Member of Parliament who lived nearby. This continued for several days.

The MP telephoned me repeatedly and urged me to make them permanent. I refused. The company simply could not absorb that level of rigidity at such an uncertain time. Then matters took an ugly turn.

One morning, some members of the group harassed the Chief Operating Officer while he was entering the premises. They sat on the bonnet of his car and forcibly opened the door. Security identified the main culprits immediately. I made up my mind that, regardless of future developments, those directly involved in intimidation and misconduct would never be taken back.

After nearly a month, the MP contacted me again. He said the matter had become a stalemate and that the group was now willing to accept the original contract terms. I replied immediately: “We now have only one-year contracts available. Anyone interested may report for work.” Some accepted. Others stubbornly refused.

Later, a few of those who had not been re-employed met me privately. They admitted they had been inexperienced young men and women who had merely followed the advice of union leaders. They confessed that it was the unions that had encouraged them to reject the original offer and even urged them to obstruct the COO’s vehicle. They pleaded with me to show mercy, saying they had been misled.

I genuinely felt sorry for them. But I stood firm.

Management sometimes requires compassion, but it also requires consistency. If discipline collapses, organisations collapse soon after.

The incident reinforced one of the most important lessons I learned in labour relations: leaders must distinguish between firmness and cruelty. A manager who constantly bends under pressure may temporarily avoid conflict, but in the long run loses credibility and control.

Thoughts of Retirement

By this time, I was just past 60 years of age. The stress of corporate life had begun taking a visible toll on my health. I often recalled my earlier days at the Employees’ Trust Fund under President Ranasinghe Premadasa, when relentless pressure had caused severe gastritis and ulcers. I still remember how those symptoms vanished within days of leaving the ETF.

I began dreaming of retirement, peace, and perhaps a quieter life devoted to agriculture, which had always fascinated me. But the Japanese directors would hear none of it.

They told me that in Japan, life begins at sixty. They pointed out that many Chairmen—Kaicho, as they are called in Japan—continue well into their seventies. One of the local directors was even sent to meet me personally and persuade me to abandon thoughts of retirement.

So I remained. The COLA problem

One of our biggest internal challenges was the Cost of Living Allowance (COLA) system that had been introduced years earlier. During periods of high inflation, it spiralled out of control. In some months, increases amounted to nearly one thousand rupees—a very substantial figure at that time.

No other industry was granting such increases monthly.

The situation became unsustainable. Worse still, the COLA had been incorporated into calculations for overtime, provident fund contributions, and other benefits. The compounding effect was enormous. We were unable to correct this mistake at the current time.

After prolonged discussions with the unions, we finally managed to restructure the arrangement. The frozen COLA and increases were consolidated into the basic salary structure.

I regarded this as a major breakthrough.

The Labour Department admitted privately that mistakes had been made by the company when the scheme was originally designed, but said nothing could legally be altered retrospectively.

This episode taught me another important lesson: poorly designed compensation systems can haunt organisations for decades. A Board and Chairman must examine compensation schemes very carefully before implementation. A benefit introduced during prosperous times may become a crushing burden during difficult periods.

The search for a new investor

The Japanese shareholders eventually made it clear that they were unwilling to invest further funds into the company. A new investor had to be found if the company was to survive.

Once again, my retirement plans were postponed. The Board insisted that I remain until a suitable investor was secured.

One prospective investor came close to finalising a deal but withdrew suddenly due to uncertainty surrounding the GSP+ concession. Another investor emerged later, but with very strict conditions. One of their key demands was a freeze on salaries and allowances for three years. Negotiations with the unions dragged on for days and weeks. At times, it appeared we were on the verge of success. Then suddenly the unions would withdraw cooperation.

Meanwhile, our financial position was deteriorating rapidly. The Head of Finance confirmed in writing that we could no longer meet obligations as they fell due.

I realised we had reached a dangerous legal and ethical point.

Under the Companies Act, if directors continue operating while knowing the company is insolvent, they may become personally liable for further erosion of assets. This was no longer merely a corporate issue—it threatened my own personal assets accumulated over a lifetime.

I informed the Board that we had no option but to seriously consider winding up the company. The local directors agreed. The Japanese directors requested one week to obtain instructions from Tokyo.

Because of Stock Exchange requirements, we made a disclosure to the Colombo Stock Exchange regarding the possible winding up.

That announcement changed everything.

Copies were displayed throughout the factory and office. Over the weekend, I was inundated with telephone calls from employees.

Some pleaded emotionally with me to save the company. Many had spent their entire working lives there and felt deeply attached to the factory. One group telephoned to say they were conducting a Bodhi pooja at a temple for the company’s survival. Another group called from a church where special prayers were being offered.

Those calls affected me deeply. To all of them, however, I gave the same answer:

“The future of the company is in your hands. If the investor’s conditions are accepted, the company can survive.”

The Minister’s intervention

On Sunday, I received a call from Minister Anura Priyadarshana Yapa asking me to come to his residence immediately.

I went with the COO and found that he had also summoned the General Manager of Noritake Porcelain, whom he knew personally. After hearing my explanation, the Minister called for the union representatives as well.

We waited several hours for them to arrive. During that waiting period, the Minister spoke candidly about politics, privatisation, nationalisation, and the mistakes successive governments had made. It was an unexpectedly educational afternoon.

When the unions finally arrived, the Minister was direct and blunt.

He told them that many workers came from his electorate and that if the factory closed, they should not expect him to find employment for them elsewhere.

The mood changed.

After lengthy discussion, the unions agreed in principle, though they requested a small amendment to the proposed terms. The Minister supported their request.

I said I could not promise anything but would speak to the investor. Fortunately, after difficult negotiations, the investor agreed.

On Tuesday, we met at the Labour Department and signed the settlement. We then informed the stock exchange that an agreement had been successfully reached.

The sense of relief was immense.

The SEC hearing

Even after securing the investor, another obstacle remained. Since the investment involved a fresh issue of shares, approval from the Securities and Exchange Commission of Sri Lanka was required.

That process became another nightmare.

The agreed share price had been based on the prevailing market price, but speculation had driven the market upward rapidly. During the hearing, I faced intense questioning regarding the pricing.

I explained that we could not ethically change the agreed terms after giving our word. More importantly, I stressed that this was the only serious investor available. Losing them could doom the company.

I made a detailed presentation supported by charts and figures. I also spoke frankly.

I admitted that I was suffering sleepless nights worrying about the company’s future.

After the hearing, I stepped outside exhausted and had barely begun packing my laptop when I was summoned back in.

As I entered, the Chairman smiled and said: “Mr. Wijesinha, you can sleep tonight. We have approved your proposal.”

And indeed, that night, I slept peacefully.

Retirement at last

The new investors eventually assumed control. Initially there were difficulties because they came from strong financial and investment backgrounds and required time to understand manufacturing operations and export markets. I personally introduced them to foreign buyers to help them understand the realities of the industry.

The Japanese shareholders became minority stakeholders.

At last, I felt the time had truly come to retire. The new investors requested that I remain for another year to help stabilise the transition. I agreed.

Finally, on June 30, 2012, I retired with mixed feelings.

I had enjoyed the challenges enormously, but they had undeniably affected my health. Yet the experiences proved invaluable later when I served on many Boards. I realised that Dankotuwa had excellent systems, disciplined processes, and an outstanding product. The difficulty was not inefficiency. It was surviving intense global competition in a highly unforgiving industry.

Looking back now, I realise that management theories often sound neat and logical in classrooms and seminars. Real life is rarely so tidy. In practice, leadership involves balancing compassion with discipline, ethics with survival, and long-term strategy with short-term crises.

Perhaps the greatest lesson I learned at Dankotuwa was this: organisations are not saved by systems alone. They are saved by people—their sacrifices, emotions, loyalty, courage, and sometimes even their prayers.

More lessons from my Board experiences will follow in future episodes.

(Sunil G. Wijesinha is a Consultant on Productivity and Japanese Management Techniques

Former Chairman / Director of several listed and unlisted companies

Recipient of the APO Regional Award for Promoting Productivity in the Asia-Pacific Region

Recipient of the Order of the Rising Sun, Gold and Silver Rays – Government of Japan

Email: bizex.seminarsandconsulting@gmail.com)

By Sunil G. Wijesinha ✍️

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A Journey Through Time: The Dilmah Tea & Cinnamon Experience at Genesis

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Expert-led Dilmah tea tasting

At Dilmah, we believe that every cup of tea and every hint of cinnamon carries a story worth telling. The Dilmah Tea & Cinnamon Experience was created to share that story, inviting visitors to discover the heritage, craftsmanship, and culture behind two of Sri Lanka’s most treasured gifts to the world.

Located at Genesis, the original Dilmah office in Maligawatte, the Experience is designed not as a traditional museum, but as a journey. From the moment guests step in, they are guided through an engaging narrative that brings together history, people, and place in a way that is both simple and meaningful.

Discover how tea is manufactured

The journey begins with the origins of tea and cinnamon. Many visitors are surprised to learn about Ceylon Cinnamon, known as true cinnamon, which is native to Sri Lanka and very different from the more common cassia found elsewhere. Its history dates back over 2500 years, and it was highly prized by ancient civilisations such as the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, at times valued even more than gold. Its extraordinary worth also drew colonial powers to the island, with the Portuguese and later the Dutch seeking control of Ceylon largely to dominate the lucrative cinnamon trade. It is often a fascinating discovery that transforms how one views a familiar spice.

Savour 11 unique tea varieties

Tea’s story stretches back to ancient China, where it was first discovered and cherished, before making its way to Europe and Britain, where it grew immensely popular. It was this rising demand in Britain that ultimately paved the way for tea to be introduced to Ceylon. The British had established coffee on the island, even as they were introducing tea in India, and Ceylon soon became a globally renowned coffee producer. This success, however, was short lived, as a devastating leaf disease destroyed the crop, bringing widespread economic hardship. From this period of uncertainty emerged tea, with the pioneering work of James Taylor laying the foundation for what would become one of the world’s most celebrated teas.

To bring this history to life, the Experience includes a short and informative video that sets the stage for what follows. Guests are then taken through the tea manufacturing process using miniature factory equipment, allowing them to clearly visualise each step from leaf to cup. A highlight for many is the opportunity to participate in a guided tea tasting and grading session. This hands-on experience introduces guests to the nuances of aroma, colour, and flavour, offering insight into the skill required to assess fine tea. The journey continues with a curated sampling of Ceylon Tea across Sri Lanka’s diverse elevations, from low grown to mid grown and high grown teas, each with its own unique character.

Guided walkthrough on Ceylon Tea

Ceylon Cinnamon harvesting process image wall

Explore Ceylon Cinnamon with a live display

Artistic showcase with the story and value of Ceylon Tea & Cinnamon

The Experience is further enriched by a thoughtfully designed food pairing. Guests are invited to enjoy a selection of savoury and sweet items, each paired with a specific tea to highlight complementary flavours. It is a simple yet refined way to appreciate tea in a new context.

Importantly, the Dilmah Tea & Cinnamon Experience also answers a growing need among Destination Management Companies (DMCs) and inbound travel specialists seeking authentic, meaningful, and accessible experiences within Colombo for their guests. In a city where many itineraries are limited to short sightseeing stops or shopping visits, the Experience offers something far more enriching, an immersive journey into Sri Lanka’s heritage, flavour, and craftsmanship, conveniently located within the city itself. Whether for leisure travellers, special interest groups, cruise passengers, corporate delegations, or high-value FIT travellers, the Experience provides a thoughtfully curated cultural encounter that combines storytelling, sensory engagement, culinary pairing, retail, and hospitality in one destination. Its central location at Genesis by Dilmah also makes it an ideal addition to Colombo itineraries for guests looking to experience the essence of Sri Lanka beyond the conventional

Throughout the Experience, sensory elements play an important role. The gentle aromas of tea and spice, the textures, and the visual storytelling combine to create an immersive and memorable visit. At the same time, the narrative highlights the importance of sustainability and respect for nature, as well as the communities that sustain these industries.

The Experience is curated by David Colin Thomé, Editor of the highly acclaimed Dilmah History of Ceylon Tea website, (www.historyofceylontea.com), one of the largest single industry websites in the world, together with veteran tea planter and former head of Kahawatte Plantations PLC, Anura Gunasekera. David was also among Dilmah’s original tea tasters at the time of the brand’s launch and trained under our founder Merrill J Fernando, bringing rare depth, authenticity, and first hand experience to the Experience.

Designed to be accessible to all, the Experience uses clear and simple language, ensuring that both enthusiasts and newcomers can engage with and enjoy the journey. It is an invitation to explore, learn, and appreciate.

In a rapidly changing world, the Dilmah Tea & Cinnamon Experience offers a moment to pause and reconnect with what truly matters, heritage, craftsmanship, and identity. It is a celebration of Sri Lanka’s legacy and a tribute to the stories behind every cup of tea and every touch of cinnamon.

We invite travellers, tour operators, and hospitality partners alike to discover a uniquely Sri Lankan experience in the heart of Colombo, for inquires please call +94 71 217 2238 (News release from Dilmah)

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