Category Archives: Uncategorized

I was 20 years old and it was the first time I met this sister of mine from Hong Kong. She is the eldest of the family of 13 from one mother and one father. Friends and relatives liked to poke fun at us saying that our family had its own football team with two spare players. When we talk about football in Mauritius we mean soccer.

This sister was born in Mauritius, I do not know the exact year but I calculated that it must be around 1928. When she was a baby my mother took her and a second younger baby sister to China and they were left there with Grandma. Why my mother did not bring them back with her to Mauritius I don’t know the answer and I had never enquired about the reason. I could only deduce that my parents were too poor and too busy making a living in their new country that it was difficult to raise two small babies. I am sure it was extremely hard and heart breaking for mom and dad to be separated with my two baby sisters. I later learned that the second sister was given away to another family. Again I did not know why and I never asked of my parents. Giving children away was a common practice in China in that era, usually necessitated for one of two reasons, either the parents were too poor to bring them up or the children were constantly sick and the local soothsayer would recommend that the child be given away to a new family. This should stop the sickness. When we were growing up and our mother told us about the second sister we felt quite sad and sorry that it had to be this way.

This is a typical Hakka Community House where hundred of families reside. My sisters probably lived in one of these units in the 1930s

Somehow life went on. My mom gave birth to many more babies in Mauritius and we all never saw our two eldest sisters for many years to come. They grew up with Grandma, went to school and did whatever children would do in China. They seemed to have done well because both went to school and are literate unlike many other kids in China who did not have the chance to an education. Though my second sister was given away, I believe she lived not too far from the first sister in a Hakka village in Meixian County, North East of Guangdong Province, where many of the villagers, including my parents, had some time ago decided to cross the Five Oceans to look for a better place for them and the children. This reminded me of the Japanese whom I met on board the M V “Ruys” during my voyage to Hong Kong when they were returning home from Brazil to visit their parents and acquaintances. It was a relief to me to learn that the two sisters kept in touch with each other while growing up. One of the hardest things in life, I believe, is to have to leave one’s place of birth and the loved ones for a new country where the language, the food, the weather and the customs are very foreign. Hakka people originally from Northern China had been on the move for many centuries, migrating to the South due to social unrest, upheavals and invasions, and eventually from there across the seas to all corners of the globe.

Contemporary immigrants to a new country have a less hard time as they or at least their children are likely to speak the language of the new country, they would have done some research of what to expect and prepare for it. With modern telecommunication systems they technically are in touch with the loved ones they have left behind and the probability is high that they would be able to save enough money in a few years to travel back to their old country to renew acquaintance with their friends and other members of their family. Immigrants like my father and mother had a much harder life, they left their country with only a dim hope that luck would be on their side to allow them to one day return or visit their place of birth.

My parents might have travelled in a similar ship when they immigrated from China to Mauritius in 1920s

When I left Mauritius for Hong Kong in 1966 I had to travel by sea, air was out of the question, far beyond my means and the voyage took 15 days. I can do it today in 10 hours. Telephoning my parents long distance was too much of a luxury and was only used in case of extreme emergency. I remember that I wrote to my parents regularly when I just landed in Hong Kong, I had the choice of sending my letters by Air Mail or Sea Mail. For many the savings in postage between air and sea was something quite worth considering. I don’t recall having telephone my parents even once because though there was a house phone at my sister’s residence, my parents had no phone at home. They would have to ask a favour from some residences that had a phone and then there were not many in the neighbourhood where they lived.

I remember that the only one time my family contacted someone on the phone was when I was around 8 or 9 years old. I used to spend my summer vacation at my aunt’s shop at Deep River, a small village in the district of Flacq some 40 kilometres from Port Louis. Deep River was a Sugar Estate owned by a prominent family of French descent. My parents had gone to the nearby Boulangerie (Bakery) to ask to use their phone. They had called the Deep River’s Estate office, a five minutes walk to my aunt’s place. Some one had run to my aunt to announce that there was a phone call for her from my parents from Port Louis. My aunt, my cousin and myself walked as fast as we could to the Estate Office to answer the call. That was the way communication was in the 1960’s in Mauritius. Hong Kong then was far ahead with almost every household or group of households having a telephone unit.

This is a rotary telephone unit popular in the 1960s. All now replaced by digital phones.

By the time I set foot on Hong Kong for the first time the sun had just set but the city was very alive and bright with blinding neon light. A large number of people were still roaming the streets as if night was not in their vocabulary. The tall buildings, the busy traffic, the crowd, the neon lights, the noise, the strange language, the vibrancy were mesmerizing.

At the same time a strange feeling ran down my spine, I was a little apprehensive of this place which from now on was going to be my world. Hong Kong was sophisticated, a huge city of some three millions people, unlike the quiet serene village-feel City of Port Louis. What lied ahead was a big unknown and scary. For the first time I was on my own and I missed the comfort and security which were always there for me when I was growing up and living at home with my parents. Now I alone would have to make all the decisions that needed to be made day in day out.

It is mind blogging to see these neon signs hanging above the streets of Hong Kong

Chinese Medicine Shops were very popular in the 1960’s. Here the Chinese herbalist is picking and weighting different kinds of herbs, ready to be wrapped in paper. The potion will be boiled in water for an hour or so, then consumed by the patient. The taste is bitter.

We headed home in a comfortable and new car which my brother-in-law was driving. I remember we drove along a stretch of Nathan Road which was the longest straightest and busiest road on the Kowloon peninsula. On both sides of the road lined large buildings stuck tightly together shoulder to shoulder some over 20 storey high. The ground floors were mainly commercial, retail shops, restaurants, department stores, doctor’s office and they were all very brightly lit. The upper floors were mostly residential but there were commercial towers nestled within the residential buildings. Between the rows of buildings neon signs of all shape size and colour were hanging prominently extended from the façade of the buildings out into the street. Each neon sign was trying to outdo the other to gain the attention of the crowd below. I noticed a double deck bus in its bright red color speeding precariously from the opposite direction, its roof seemed to almost ram some of the hanging neon signs. These neon signs were fascinating, never seen so many so dense, so colourful and so bright. Till today Hong Kong has never lost its pre-eminence as the “Neon Sign” Capital of the World, beating easily Tokyo and Shanghai,

As the car turned right into Waterloo Road the picture changed drastically into a quiet but still brightly lit non commercial area. This road was six-lane wide, a major thoroughfare in Kowloon and was named to commemorate the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 when British Allied Forces defeated Napoleon Bonaparte. Waterloo rang a special bell and had a special significance to me because France following its defeat at Waterloo had to cede the Island of Mauritius to England. This change of administration made Mauritius a unique destination where French and English cultures flourished side by side to this day and significantly reshaped the lives of its residents.

I remember noticing as we drove on Waterloo Road a large structure, The Truth Lutheran Church on my right sitting on a small promontory pleasantly landscaped. To my left was also a huge building which my brother-in-law told me was the Kwong Wah Hospital. Both structures are still here today.

Truth Lutheran Church on Waterloo Road as it was, and still is, 50 years ago.

The Kwong Wah Hospital founded in 1911 is now a 1,100 beds hospital providing a full range of medical services

My brother-in-law’s apartment was just a little ahead at 71 Waterloo Road which would be my home for the next four years. We had to drive around the block to look for a parking spot on the street as the building housing his apartment did not have its own parking, just like all of the buildings in the neighbourhood.

We took the elevator to the apartment situated on the 9th floor and when the maid opened the door, I saw my sister and her six children standing obediently along the hallway waiting silently and curiously to meet this far away uncle for the first time.

My brother-in-law’s apartment is overshadowed by this new Tabernacle. 50 years ago the apartment was overlooking the original tabernacle

We were standing on deck all this time to watch the activities that were unfolding while the ship was entering port and preparing to drop anchor. It was a busy port congested with cargo ships and other service vessels trying eagerly to get their job done. It was noisy not just because people were shouting orders as part of their job requirement but also because boats were constantly blowing their horns as they zigzagged impatiently amidst the flotilla of vessels. While our ship was maneuvering into position to drop anchor, we could see a large number of boats big and small waiting in line around our ship like the racing dogs in Macau ready to pounce as the gate opened.

Time is money and this statement was and is still particularly true within the Hong Kong context. Barely had the anchor reached bottom that the waiting vessels were quickly accosting the sides of our ship. The port people, the immigration people and a host of other servicing people were fast ready to climb the gangway to get on board. The ship crew was no less inferior in any respect as they busily put into motion their routine to unload the cargo. No time was lost, no time was wasted, that was the way Hong Kong people run their lives then and now.

The weather was cool as it was winter in Hong Kong and I could feel a little chill. My island Mauritius being situated in the southern hemisphere had the opposite weather, we were in full summer. We waited quite a while before we were allowed to make any move, just wondering if the port officials were busy working first on First Class Passengers.

I went down to my cabin to wait for my brother-in-law whom my father had written earlier with details of my voyage. Soon we received the green light to disembark and the small corridor leading to our cabin started to get crowded and noisy as everybody rushed to get off the ship. Unlike with modern day cruising as we know it, every passenger in our class had to take care of his or her own luggage and belonging. So there was a lot of pushing and shouting as “coolies” came on board to help passengers with their luggage. Coolies, a term originated from India, were very common in Hong Kong and other South Asian Countries then. They were unskilled labourers hired to carry heavy loads, their only helping tools were their muscles and a bamboo pole dangled over their shoulder with the loads tied with ropes hanging at both ends.

Coolies are unskilled labourers hired to carry heavy loads. Very popular in Hong Kong and other South East Asian Countries in the 60’s

Then I recognized my brother-in-law from earlier photo as he wiggled his way through the corridor. I never met him before, this was the first time. I shouted in Chinese “Brother-in-law” and not by his first name as Chinese etiquette required and still requires that we address our “elders” by title rather than by name. If we had multiple uncles, we would call them “First Uncle”, “Second Uncle” and so on. My brother-in-law with a broad smile on his face called me back by my Chinese name “Chin Woon” but added “Kiu” at the end. “Kiu” means uncle on the mother side. My nephews and nieces would call me “Ah Kiu” or “Uncle” as I am a brother of their mother. By custom my brother-in-law could have simply called me by my Chinese name “Chin Woon” but he chose to call me “Chin Woon Kiu”. This is a very common Chinese way of address when there is a lot of affection, warmth and respect between the two parties. I smiled back. If we had met today we would have given each other a long hug but back then it would be very un-Chinese, a double-hand shake was the correct etiquette.

My brother-in-law then promptly instructed two coolies he had brought along to carry my belongings, among which I remember clearly was a large tin container one foot by one foot and a foot and a half in height. I never ever saw one again. When I was growing up in my parents’ small corner shop we would buy crackers wholesale secured in this large tin container and sell them retail, one cracker at a time, to the consumer. My tin container was filled earlier before I left home at the insistence of my mother not with crackers but our world renowned Mauritius fine sugar as a visiting gift.

We quickly passed immigration and my passport was stamped, reading as follows:
Arrived by M.V. “RUYS”, The Director of Immigration permits the holder to enter Hong Kong dated Feb 9, 1966.

The Director of Immigration permitted me to land in Hong Kong on Feb 9, 1966

We made our descent by way of a long gangway running along side the ship down to a floating deck from where we hopped into a small “sampan” hired by my brother-in-law for our exclusive use. The water was choppy and the gangway swayed slightly with the rhythm of the waves. Walking down the gangway was quite scary and unfit for the faint of heart. As the sampan steered toward shore I turned around to look with a bit of melancholy at the towering giant that had brought me here from across the Indian Ocean and The South China Sea. I did not know that I was looking at the M V “Ruys” for the last time.

The Kowloon Peninsula looking across from the main island of Hong Kong. In between is the Hong Kong Victoria Harbour. This picture is Now and the tall buildings shooting into the sky were not there then.

My journey continued. Five more days to go before reaching our final destination Hong Kong by way of the South China Sea. My mind is quite blank when it comes to this segment of my voyage. I could not even remember going for the 3 o’clock afternoon tea which I had enjoyed so much in the earlier part of the voyage.

The only thing I remember is that there were two young ladies joining our ship in Singapore. The two young girls were of our age and lived in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia. They had traveled by land from Kuala Lumpur a day before to catch the M V “Ruys” in Singapore. They were going to Hong Kong to enrol in a hair dresser course to become a hair stylist. Hong Kong then was that important, far ahead of Singapore, Malaysia and the other South East Asian Countries in many aspects, be it business, commerce, manufacturing, banking, fashion, culinary. But behind Japan. Sometimes I would ponder what path fate had pre-arranged for the two ladies, had they successfully completed their hair dresser course, had they gone back to Kuala Lumpur and opened a hair salon as had been their aspiration or had they somehow ended up living in Hong Kong. I will never have an answer.

With the limited knowledge that I possess, every time I hear of the South China Sea, I can only picture the great many Chinese pirates that infested these waters centuries ago. The most famous or infamous of the pirates was Zheng Yi in late 1700’s/early 1800’s, with a fleet of some 400 ships or more and 50,000 plus pirates. When he died in 1807 his wife, a former prostitute in Canton, took over. She was so ruthless, powerful and feared that the Qing Government could no longer fight her and decided to give her and most of her men an amnesty in 1810. She accepted, retired wealthy and died at the long age of 69.

Our ship entered Hong Kong water early morning February 9, 1966. The sun had already risen unlike when we arrived in Singapore. Obviously contraband activities if ever they were contemplated were out of the question under the bright day light. So there were no more James Bond clips to watch. Our ship reduced speed as it navigated through the many smaller islands that surrounded the main Island of Hong Kong. I had never seen so many islands before, some were bare, some had small houses clustered together close to the beach, all were covered with lush green vegetations. The feeling we experienced here was very different from the one we had when entering Singapore harbour. Here the atmosphere was dynamic and electrifying, the port was busy and vibrant with boats of all shapes and sizes. all hurriedly jockeying their way through the channels, mainly to deliver goods and merchandises to the many cargo ships anchored in the harbour. The most spectacular vessel was the Chinese Junk Boat with their distinctive sails.

The Junk boat is an ancient Chinese sailing ship design that is still in use today

A sampan, a relatively flat bottomed Chinese wooden boat, with The Aberdeen Floating Restaurant in Hong Kong behind

We entered the Harbour proper from the East entrance through the narrow channel at Lei Yue Mun. At that instance our ship was like a towering giant overlooking land on both sides. The left side was Hong Kong Main Island and the right side was the Kowloon Peninsula. Standing high and tall on deck I felt that I could have touched the land with my bare hand. It was an exhilarating moment for me, it was a moment of great joy in its purest form, I was on top of the world. That feeling had stayed with me for all these years and would never be lost.

My ship MV “Ruys” passed through this narrow channel at Lei Yue Mun

Our ship continued through the channel guided by two tugboats to the specific spot assigned for our ship to drop anchor. As we glided in the harbour we could see numerous numbers of buildings lining the shores on both sides of the ship. Many small vessels “Sampan” and “Junk” boats were streaming around us like water beetles in a pond busy attending to their business. We saw the world famous Star Ferry boats that plied incessantly between Hong Kong and Kowloon transporting large number of passengers. We also saw the eye catching Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank Building sitting majestically facing the Kowloon Peninsula. It did not come to mind that one day I would be working in this famous building.

This is HSBC (The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Limited) as I first saw it in 1966. Today it has been replaced by a modern building.

Our approach was a non-event, nobody seemed to pay any attention to us. The people had seen so many liners so many times coming and going that they would rather use the extra minutes making some money than wasting time looking at us.

The M V “Ruys” dropped anchor just a little bit after noon.

The Hong Kong Harbour, commonly known as Victoria Harbour is one of the most spectacular harbours in the world.

I promised in an earlier post that I would write about my first job. After graduating from Secondary School and obtaining my Higher School Certificate, only one option was opened for me, finding my first job. I would at that time love to go to University but Mauritius had no University then. I would have to go abroad typically England for higher education but my family was unable to afford the cost.

The school system in Mauritius was the same everywhere in the British Colonies as I later found out in Hong Kong. Higher School Certificate was Form VII and School Certificate was Form V. Form V is Grade 11 and Form VII is grade 13 in Canada.

Finding a job was not an easy thing particularly an office job, recommendation and referral from some prominent persons were essential. The local newspaper did not even have a Job Search Section. Fortunately for me my younger sister was at that time being courted by a nice lad who had the good fortune of having as Godfather a Senior Government Officer. I was asked to prepare a Resume which the Godfather passed on to the Ministry of Finance under his recommendation, I was not even interviewed but if I did it was probably just to say hello. I got a job as Clerical Assistant in the “Registry” of the Ministry of Finance, hooray with a monthly salary of Rupees 200.

The Ministry of Finance was the most important Ministry just a level below the Governor and was located in the “Government House” which was the most important building on the Island. The “Registry” was located in a large room with high ceiling on the ground floor to the left. The room accommodated five staff, the Chief Registrar and four Assistants whose desks were positioned in a sort of semi circle facing the desk of the Chief Registrar. This set up was popular in the Colonial days, I saw the same set up widely used in Hong Kong establishments. The door and one window were kept open to allow fresh air through, we were glad that we had a large ceiling fan to keep us from boiling during the hot summer months. The Chief Registrar was a nice man in his late forty, a little bald on his forehead, very serious in his job, a little bit nervous at times, his name was Mr. Dosa. The clerical staff including myself was quite international in composition, one Hindu boy, one Hindu girl, one Muslim and one Chinese.

Government House just as it was when I was working there in 1965 at the Ministry of Finance

Across the room from us was another much larger room separated by a small corridor. That room accommodated six or seven Officers. Next in line on the hierarchy was the Deputy Financial Secretary, Mr. Bunwaree, an older gentleman in his fifty, with thick glasses. I thought that he must have gone through a lot of higher education than any of us under his command. He occupied a large room on his own, just like us with a large ceiling fan. The top man was the Financial Secretary, an appointee from The Foreign Office in London England. His office was somewhere on the first or second floor of the House but we dared not venture close to his office vicinity.

At that time Dr. Seewoosagur Ramgoolam was the Minister of Finance with an office down the Hallway, we did not however have a lot of interaction with his office. Dr. Ramgoolam was knighted by The Queen when I was still working in his Ministry and we all felt very proud of his Knighthood. Subsequently in 1968 he became the first Prime Minister of Mauritius when the Island gained independence from Britain.

The role of the Registry was to take care of all the correspondences coming in and going out of the Ministry of Finance. All incoming letters were personally opened by Mr. Dosa who after reading them would pass on to one of the four Clerical Assistants to record them in a large registry book. The letters were then divided among the four Assistants. Our role was to read the letter and file it in a new file or an existing file. On the cover of the file were two columns: “Date” and “Send To”. We marked the date and put the initials of the Officer who was to deal with this letter. The file was placed in an “OUT” tray on our desk. From time to time one of the “boys” who were messengers for the Ministry would clear the tray and deliver the file to the respective Officer. In the event that an Officer was unable to deal with the issue, he would pass on the file to his Superior Officer for action by again making use of the “Date” and “Send To” columns. Some important issues were sent to the Deputy Financial Secretary and the Financial Secretary as necessary. At the end of the day some files might come back to us and it was our responsibility to file and lock them away in a cabinet.

All replies from the Ministry as prepared by the Officers were sent to the “Typing Pool”. This was a large room with four or five female typists. When the letter was typed the typist would fill in the “Date” and “Send To” column on the folder cover and the file placed in the out tray for the messengers to take them away. The typing pool was quite noisy comparatively not just because the girls would be chatting at any available occasion but because of the tapping sound of the manual typewriters. So their room was quite a distance away from us.

An Olympia top of the line 1960’s typewriter at the Typing Pool. It was indeed noisy.

Certain letters were confidential and they would be handled personally by Mr. Dosa, the Clerical Assistants were not to be involved. Letters which were addressed to other Government Departments were hand delivered twice daily by our messengers, or immediately if it was of utmost urgency. Confidential letters would be sealed. It was the duty of the messengers to seal the envelope under the watchful eye of Mr. Dosa. The messengers were quite good at the task, involving melting a red wax stick and impressing the seal of the Ministry on the molten wax before it hardened.

Confidential letters were sealed by melting wax and impressing the seal over the molten wax before it hardened

There were four or five “boys” in the Ministry with a Head Boy. They did not have any serious education and were not able to read, write or speak English or French. We communicated with them in the local Creole language. They did however recognize the “Initials” of the Officers on the file cover to enable them to do their job. The boys did not have a room of their own but hanged around the corridor between our room and the Officer’s room. They did not have the luxury of a ceiling fan. There were a small desk and two chairs in the corner but except for the Head Boy none dared to sit while on duty. The boys’ job was mainly to bring files from one party to another, seal confidential letters, post letters, hand deliver documents, some personal errands for the Officers and last but not least to prepare morning and afternoon tea for the Officers precisely at 10 am and 3 pm respectively. On the corridor wall near the desk there was a series of buzzer which the Officers when requiring a boy assistance would trigger by pressing a button located under their desks.

Sometimes certain documents or files had to be sent to His Excellency The Governor whose office was in his residence at “Le Reduit” in the outskirt of town a half hour drive from Government House. Those documents and files would be placed in a metal box with lock. The box would be hand carried to the “Secretariat” office located adjacent to the Government House. The Secretariat had the duty of delivering mail to the Governor and every afternoon at a prescribed hour, the Government car would take the mail to “Le Reduit” under the escort of a Police Land Rover. At “Le Reduit” the staff held a duplicate key to open the box.

“Le Reduit” the official residence of the Governor of Mauritius. Originally built in 1749 on a 240 acres lot as a fortress, destroyed by cyclone in 1892, rebuilt and renovated

Occasionally His Excellency The Governor would pay a visit to the Financial Secretary at Government House. On these occasions we would be anxious to get a peep at the Governor, as he stepped off from his Rolls Royce, elaborately and pompously dressed in a white Military outfit with a large prominent hat with white feathers, white gloves and a sword hanging from his waist.

That was the good old days when life was simple.

This was how impressive formal and pompous the Governor was

As day broke the M V “Ruys” glided silently without fanfare into the Singapore Harbour. Things became clearer, we could now see the city of Singapore awakening, we saw lush green vegetations and some old colonial buildings which were familiar to my eyes as their structure and look were similar to many Government buildings found in Mauritius. The same blue print must have been dispatched from London to all over the British Empire.

Old Post Office Building built around 1900 in Mauritius

Old Post Office Building in Singapore built around 1900, with similarity to other Government Buildings in other parts of the British
Empire

There were a number of other cargo ships anchored in the harbour but ours was huge and imposing. I do not remember if our ship was anchored in the middle of the harbour or if it was berthed. No matter what we three young and excited Mauritian lads were eager to set foot ashore. Singapore Port Officials were soon on board, a table and some chairs were set up earlier close to the gangway for them to check the passenger’s passport and to give the stamp of approval to disembark. Yahoo off we go.

Singapore is situated at the tip of the Malay Peninsula and has an area of only 277 square miles

Singapore has an interesting history. Founded in 1819 by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles as a trading post of the East India Company, Singapore came under British control in 1824. It gained independence from Britain in 1963 and joined Malaysia. Two years later in 1965 it was expelled from Malaysia to become a self independent country. As a rejected orphan on the bloc, Singapore had to initially struggle through life. Without natural resources and limited land base but with extraordinary determination and under great leadership, Singapore prospered. Today Singapore is one of the safest countries in the world and ranks high in standard of living, education, healthcare and economic competitiveness. It shared the title “The Four Asian Tigers” with Hong Kong, South Korea and Taiwan.

Four Asian Tigers – Taiwan Korea Singapore and Hong Kong

Singapore received world wide attention in the 1990’s when chewing gum was banned there because vandals were sticking chewing gum on the door sensors of the newly built Mass Rapid Transit, causing disruption to train services. Chewing gum is still banned today with a fine of $500.00 for spitting it on the streets. Also in 1994 there was world wide controversy when an American teenager was sentenced to canning in Singapore for vandalism using spray paint. Canning was a widely used form of legal corporal punishment in Singapore, a legacy left behind by British Colonial rule.

The name Singapore is derived from Malay meaning “Lion City”, hence the iconic Head of a Lion emblem associated with the country.

The famous Lion Head which is widely associated with Singapore

I had no idea where we would be going and what we would be visiting in Singapore, I was simply content to follow Cyril who was a tat more mature than me and Clovis and we felt pretty assured that things would turn out great. To our great surprise Cyril had earlier written to a Mauritian friend studying in Singapore, he was standing at the berth to greet us and to be our tour guide for the day.

The weather was bright and sunny, the temperature over 32% C and humidity in the 80’s and yet Singaporeans consider February their best month of the year.
I could not recall all the details of where we went and what we saw but for sure we took the bus to the city and visited the world renowned Singapore Botanical Garden, a 74 hectare garden famous for its orchid hybridization programme initiated in the late 1920’s. We were indeed impressed with the wide variety of beautiful and colourful orchids. I think somewhere we rode on a monorail something which we had never seen before.

Singapore Botanical Garden famous for its Orchids programme initiated in 1920’s

I could not remember what we had for lunch, it could not have been very exotic since we would not be able to afford it. I tend to believe that it must have been some fried rice and noodles Singapore style spicy and hot.

Singapore Fried Rice aromatic and delicious

Singapore Fried Noodles hot and spicy is world famous and a must to taste while visiting the Island

We returned on board early in the evening ready for the next phase of our journey up the South China Sea to Hong Kong.

A day before February 4, 1966 standing from the ship’s deck we suddenly saw under a bright blue sky some birds flying over the water and we had a glimpse of land in the far horizon. We three comrades were elated, we exchanged glances and smiles, we were jumping with joy. Our feeling at that instance was probably not dissimilar to what the sailors felt in the olden days when perching at the top of their ship’s main mast after months at sea they saw land and shouted with all their might “Land Land”.

We were approaching Indonesia and soon would pass through the isthmus separating the Indonesian main islands of Sumatra and Java. Djakarta was not too far away so were the small Coco Island and Christmas Island. The Indonesian shores were still quite a distance from our eyes to be able for us to see and cherish the spectacular and picturesque view of sandy white beaches lined with coconut and palm trees which we know of today. Nevertheless the words “Sumatra” and “Java” were in themselves too exotic to stop our hearts from pounding. As we entered the South China Sea the night had caught up with us.

Soon our ship would be entering the South China Sea through the isthmus of Sumatra, an opening between the main islands of Sumatra and Java

If our ship had passed closer to the shores of Sumatra, this is what we would have seen and remembered for a long time

We woke up early next morning, I could not remember the exact time but it was still pitch dark and the air was filled with mist and dew. We could barely see a couple of hundred feet ahead but could hear the occasional long and eerie sound of the ship’s horn. The air was hot and humid and we waited patiently on deck to see something that the crew promised would be exciting and unforgettable. Every time I watched a rerun of “Titanic” my imagination would bring me back to this mysterious and misty morning on the M V”Ruys”.

The ship was soon to enter the Port of Singapore. Speed was reduced considerably lest it hit other vessels in the harbour. Suddenly and unexpectedly as if oozing out from the mist appeared a dozen of small motor boats swiftly approaching the port side of our ship. It reminded me of the Greek mythology Helen of Troy, the face that launched a thousand ships which suddenly appeared on the shore of Troy.

I guess when our ship entered the Port of Singapore this was what it looked like. foggy misty eerie

At that moment our ship’s crew ready and well prepared threw several long heavy ropes from over the deck to the motor boats below. We hardly had time to blink than the seamen below were already climbing up the ropes and over on to deck. For the next five or ten minutes there was a brisk exchange of goods and money, obviously smuggled goods. What kind of goods I did not know, my best guess would be cigarettes, alcohol, camera. Everything was perfectly timed and synchronized, no panic, no mistake, no misunderstanding. I thought that they should have done it a hundred times that they could do it with their eyes closed. It was mind-boggling how perfectly things were coordinated and executed by a team of ordinary men who had no cell phones, no telex, no email, one group cut off sixty days at sea, the other group incommunicado on land.

Whether this activity was repeated at each and every port I was not sure, whether the Ship’s Officers were aware of it but kept one eye closed I was not sure, whether the Officers had a cut I was not sure. But this was a small way the low paid crew made an extra buck on their long hard journey. Just as quickly the seamen had come on board they cleared the deck just as fast. Timing was critical because the deal needed to be completed before the ship entered the Port proper, before day break and before the Harbour Police had time to react.

This was how Singapore looked like when my ship M V “Ruys” entered port in 1966

When I think about it now I am happy that I traveled Second Class because both First Class and Third Class passengers did not have this opportunity to witness something so exciting, so extraordinary, a scene that could fit in any James Bond movie, a once in a life-time experience never to be forgotten.

Why PassingCloud as the name for my blog? MYSTORY would have been more suitable but this domain name was taken and I had to look for an alternative. After a night of thinking I came up with PassingCloud because I believe that stories are like clouds, they form and come into being, they hang up there for a little while mostly without anyone bothering to have a peep and then they move away. Stories like clouds are unique, it is impossible to have two identical stories just like it is impossible to have two identical clouds. With time all my stories will be forgotten and disappear like passing clouds, so will be everybody else’s stories.

“Coin de Mire” strange creature like a lizard with a huge head

At around 6 o’clock in the afternoon January 25, 1966 M V “Ruys” lifted anchor and started the voyage to take me to Hong Kong. I could not remember too well what happened as the liner cruised out of Port Louis harbour, but I believe there must have been some commotion and activities as crew and passengers gathered on deck for the departure. What I remember well is when we were passing near the north of the island near Cap Malheureux, a small romantic fishing village on the northern tip of the island. I remember seeing “Coin de Mire” a small elongated island off the northern coast of Mauritius having the shape of a strange creature, like a huge lizard with a huge head. This creature was something we kids always saw when we spent numerous Sunday afternoon on the beach at Cap Malheureux, but we never were able to come close to it as the water between the beach and the island was very turbulent and dangerous. Cap Malheureux translates into English as Unhappy Cape got its name when years ago ships around this area hit the rocks and broke during stormy weather.