Features

THE HOTEL ATTACKED! – Part 29

Published

3 years ago

2021/12/26

Sahan Weerasooriya

CONFESSIONS OF A GLOBAL GYPSY

By Dr. Chandana (Chandi) Jayawardena DPhil

President – Chandi J. Associates Inc. Consulting, Canada

Founder & Administrator – Global Hospitality Forum

chandij@sympatico.ca

Beach and Tourists Back

The eventful off season for tourism ended by late October 1976. Around the same time, the sea erosion ended and sea became calm again. The Hotel Manager Muna and I, as the Assistant Manager and Executive Chef, led the Coral Gardens Hotel to be fully prepared to welcome guests for the 1976/1977 season. However, the tensions with the villagers, fishermen and beach boys continued.

Every other day, I continued my popular weekly buffets – International buffet for Sunday lunch, Beach barbecue night, Sri Lankan hopper night and Lobster night. We continued to attract large tourist groups specifically for lunch and coral garden boat excursions. I enhanced the fixed menus with new dishes I had learnt during the off season. I also made most of the à la carte orders, as I enjoyed the challenge of making those dishes within 15 minutes. Several repeat guests arrived at their favourite hotel in Sri Lanka. Muna and I paid special attention to these loyal customers and I continued creating desserts to honour such guests.

100-Item New Year’s Eve Buffet

Muna gave me a total free hand to organize a grand New Year’s Eve dinner dance. I auditioned several bands from Colombo and chose two bands with input from the German and Swedish tour leaders. I also developed an international theme for the event with input from some German, French, British, Swedish, Danish, Finish and Norwegian repeat guests. I focused a lot on planning a well-balanced 100-item international buffet menu, which was the most ambitious menu I had planned up to that point of my career.

Due to the on-going tensions with some local groups, we arranged additional security for the big day. Muna had invited two powerful local business leaders who were our friends – Leslie and Dudley, to his table at the New Year’s Eve dinner dance. This was done more as a strengthening of security strategy. Muna had also invited a few foreign tour leaders to his table. As he had three more spaces at his table, he invited Captain Wicks, his wife and their beautiful teenage daughter. I was particularly pleased with that decision.

Riot and Attack

While coordinating the buffet and food and beverage service, I also paid some attention to a large group of ‘loud’ local fishermen having drinks at the public bar. According to the excise department rules, we had to close that bar at 11:00 pm. The resident bar was open till late, but it was exclusively for hotel guests. Just after 11:00 pm, Barman Kalansooriya came to inform Muna and I that the local fishermen were refusing to leave the bar. Muna said, “Close the public bar as per the government rules, and politely request the local fishermen to leave.”

Within a minute, the barman returned looking very worried. He said, “The locals are demanding that they be allowed to have drinks at the resident bar.” We simply could not change the hotel policy focused on the safety of the hotel guests. Our answer to that request was, “No! That is not possible.”

A few minutes later, we heard a big noise. About 50 drunk fishermen shouted while trying to enter the hotel reception to march towards the resident bar. They angrily shouted, “Today is the day we will destroy this hotel!” Muna called the local police station and as I knew most of the gang, I tried to calm down the fishermen. All the waiters stood behind me in support at the hotel entrance. “I understand your concerns. Let’s talk about these issues tomorrow. We should not interrupt the event specially organized for tourists visiting your town”, I pleaded.

On hearing about the commotion, Leslie quickly left Muna’s table and rushed to the hotel entrance area to confront the fishermen. Leslie had a very strong physique and was a well-respected diver and businessman in the area. Some of those fishermen shouting, worked on Leslie’s fishing boats. Leslie interpreted the riot as a personal insult to him since he was the hotel manager’s guest. While angrily staring at the drunk fishermen, Leslie rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He was ready to punish the culprits single-handedly.

Out of fear of Leslie most of the fishermen under his employment ran away. A few others in their drunkenness said, “Respected Leslie Sir, please don’t hit us.” Some of them added, “We did not know that you were at the hotel. We apologize”, and promptly left the hotel car park. There were about two dozen fishermen still standing in defiance. They wanted to fight Leslie, who took the challenge in lightning speed. Within a few minutes Leslie managed to knock down about a dozen. Others ran in fear, but commenced throwing large rocks at Leslie, from a distance.

At that point I held Leslie and tried to move him away, in fear that he might injure someone badly. A large rock was coming our way and Leslie quickly ducked. The rock hit my head and I fell like a tree. I was unconscious when the hotel workers lifted and placed me in the hotel car. I vaguely remembered someone smashing the windscreen of the car just after that and being showered with broken pieces of glass.

Usher the New Year at ER

When I opened my eyes with great difficulty, I was on a small bed in a dark room. I had no memory of anything from that evening. I felt broken glass pieces and blood when I touched my afro hair. The first thing that came to my mind was that I was dying and this was the end for me. In my feeble and drowsy state, I felt no fear of dying.

Next time I regained consciousness, there was a nurse standing by my bed, and my hair was cut to dress the head wounds. She told me that I had two accidents last night and that I was in the emergency room at Galle General Hospital. “What’s the day?” I asked with difficulty. “The first of January” she said. “Which year?” I asked as I could not remember anything at all. The nurse said, “1977.” Soon after that, a young doctor came to see me and informed that I would be taken by an ambulance to a private hospital in Colombo. He also told me that I was lucky that I was wearing my chef hat when I was hit on the head by the thrown stone.

A Month at Wycherley Nursing Home

I didn’t remember anything after that until I woke up in a nice and spacious bedroom. When I looked up, all I could see was an old fashion wooden ceiling fan gently circling. Then I saw my mother and father by my bedside, looking very worried. “You are at the Wycherley Nursing Home in Colombo seven”, my father told me, calmly. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. In fact, I could not walk for two weeks. I was unsteady while the doctors tried different treatments. The bandages on my head were changed daily during visits by various specialists led by Dr. P. R. Anthonis, veteran surgeon (and later, the Chancellor of the University of Colombo).

My mother came to the hospital in the morning every day and stayed with me till late evening. She also tried to feed me the hospital food as well as my favourite dishes, she prepared at home for me. I hardly had any appetite and lost some weight. My father and two sisters came to visit me every evening after work. Many other members of my family and my friends visited me, but I could not talk too much. I was pleasantly surprised when Captain Wicks, his wife and their teenage daughter visited me one day. To cheer me up they told me that they were most impressed with my 100-item buffet, but saddened because of what happened to me on the New Year’s Eve.

A happy note during this unsteady month for me was appreciating the chance given to me to recover within a beautiful historic building. The Wycherley was built in early 1920s by a versatile gentleman. He was one of the greatest Ceylonese surgeons, writers and experts of the flora and fauna and the aboriginal people of the island – Dr. Richard Lionel Spittel. He had retired from the Government service at 53 years of age and ventured out to run his own Wycherley Nursing Home. High ceilings, old style celling fans, white windows and wooden floors enhanced the unique ambiance of the Wycherley.

One day, I noticed a teenage girl in a house right opposite the nursing home looking into my room frequently. My mother was surprised when this young girl waved at us. The next day she visited us and appeared to know details of what happened to me at the Coral Gardens Hotel. She said, “I am Roshika Fernando. I live with my family in Coniston Place, adjoining the Wycherley. I heard of what happened from a cousin of mine who is in the hotel industry.” As she was feeling very sorry for me, Roshika became a regular visitor in the afternoons. We used to have short chats and later when doctors wanted me to practice walking again, Roshika used to accompany me in the front garden of the Wycherley. Gradually our walks extended to Coniston Place. She was a very charming, kind and friendly girl.

Death Threats to the Manager

Towards the end of January, 1977, Muna came to see me. His story was frightening. He told me, “Chandana, since January first, I have been sleeping in a different room every night.” When I asked him the reason, he said that every evening around 9:00 pm he used to get a strange telephone call with a death threat. He had increased security at the hotel and arranged the local police to do frequent visits to the hotel. He then said, “I am on my way to the head office to get their advice.”

Within an hour, Muna returned to my room at the Wycherley. “I resigned!” he announced. I was shocked. Muna and I were a good team and together we accomplished many innovative things. I was saddened to hear about his decision and inquired about it. Muna was disappointed with the head office Director in charge of hotels, who allegedly told Muna, “I say, Munasinghe, tell those villagers if they kill you, the company will not give up. We will send another manager.” Instead of any further verbal communication, Muna immediately wrote his letter of resignation and handed it over to the Director.

Muna was seven years older than me and was like a big brother to me. He guided me well and also gave me full authority to run my departments. I was disappointed with his sudden departure from the job. “Are you going to the hotel now?” I asked Muna. “No, I will never step into that hotel again. I will send the driver to bring all my belongings to Colombo”. And that’s what he did.

Within a week, Muna found a good job at the Galle Face Hotel and moved on. That wasn’t the end of my working relationship with Muna. Within five years, on the same day in late 1981, Muna and I joined the Ceylon Hotel School as Senior Lecturers. He taught Professional Cookery and I taught Food and Beverage Operations to the fourth and final year students of CHS. During our breaks from lectures, we used to have some long chats about our memorable time at the Bentota Beach Hotel and the Coral Gardens Hotel.

Soon after Muna said good bye and left my room, my mother was prompting me to follow Muna’s steps and resign. I did not agree with her, and I decided to go back to Coral Gardens Hotel. I felt that my mission was not completed at the hotel, yet. That month I spent at the Wycherley was the only time I ever stayed at a hospital for an illness or injury in my whole life. I was eager to get out.

Years later, when I was introduced to the senior leadership team of Aitken Spence Hotels, as the facilitator of a two-day leadership coaching session, their Managing Director, Malin Hapugoda (Hapu) referred to my accident. He said, “Chandana was very playful and immature when he worked under me at Bentota Beach Hotel and before being hit by a large stone on his head in 1976.” There was pin drop silence among my high-level students – their Corporate Directors, Vice Presidents and General Managers of over 25 hotels. After a pause, Hapu said, “After the accident he became a genius, a professor and a scholar!” After that funny introduction I quickly changed the ice breakers I had planned for the session.

A Shaky Return

After a break of one month, I returned to the hotel on the first of February. It was little shaky at the beginning as I still could not walk properly. After I re-started work, I quickly recovered. In spite of serious advice to not step out of the hotel without a bodyguard, I commenced walking by myself to other hotels in the evenings. To my surprise, many villagers who threw stones at the hotel on December 31st, apologized to me. They said that they never wanted to harm me and it was a mistake in their drunken state. That day, I learnt that even with one’s adversaries, through an open dialogue, some problems can be resolved. I accepted their apology.

Impressed with my bravery of returning to work, a few in the company board had discussed the possibility of promoting me to be the Manager. However, some Directors, felt that at the age of 23, I may need more experience before being promoted. Given the unique types of challenges in managing hotels in Hikkaduwa, there were talks of sending a mature Manager, perhaps with miliary officer experience.

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Features

Women’s struggles and men’s unions

Published

1 day ago

2025/03/14

Thilina Walpola

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.

Features

United yet muffled against Prez T, an admirer speaks out

Published

1 day ago

2025/03/14

Thilina Walpola

Trump and Trudeau

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.

Features

Why I attend Kachchativu feast every year

Published

1 day ago

2025/03/14

Thilina Walpola

Sub Lieutenant Technical Course, India: The writer is on extreme left, and immediately next to him is Vice admiral (then Sub Lieutenant) Ibok-Ete Ekwe Ibas of the Nigerian Navy, former Chief of the Nigerian Navy (2015–2021). He is currently the Nigerian High Commissioner to Ghana.

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.