MY MARRIAGE STORY

 From the time I reached Vizag end-October 1971 and joined the Eastern Fleet Staff to the end of the war and minesweeping operations in Chittagong, the pace of life was hectic and days passed by in a flash. Back in Vizag early January 1972, the first few days were busy settling down in our new office, writing reports on the Fleet operations and working on mundane matters such as formulating the Eastern Fleet Standing Orders. Towards the end of the month, it was all done and one felt like taking a break and getting away from it all. There was to be no sailing for quite a while as most ships were under refit after the war. So I took a month’s leave and went to Jaipur.

Pitaji, Mataji (my Nana, Nani) and Mummy were anxiously awaiting my arrival and were very happy to see me. They wanted to know all about the operations and we spent a week or so talking about them. Around 10th February, Pitaji’s youngest brother Sushil Chacha’s second son Jagat, who was much younger than me, was getting married and all of us drove to Kota to attend the wedding. While Pitaji, Mataji and Mummy were busy meeting relatives and with the wedding ceremonies, I was at a loose end not knowing too many people. For some reason, perhaps brought on by the war, I was feeling very lonely. I started wondering where I was headed having reached the age of 33 ½! All my school friends, coursemates and relatives had got married and settled, the world was passing me by and here I was perhaps the last man standing! The feeling kept haunting me and I didn’t know what to do about it.

Back in Jaipur, Mummy mentioned that she had to go to Delhi to attend another wedding. Mummy’s very close friend from her Benares College days, Savitri Aunty, had invited her for the wedding of her niece, Bharti, with a certain Yogesh Deveshwar. (That's another story, 35 years later!). Mummy asked me to come along and I happily agreed as that would keep me busy. I would also get to meet Shashi Mama (Cdr PK Sharma) who after the war was posted in Delhi and we would be staying with him.

To attend the wedding, we went in the evening to Ishwar Nagar adjoining the Friends’ Colony. The Jaimala ceremony began and the bride slowly made her way to the stage. Looking around, I saw a very pretty girl standing tiptoe to get an unobstructed view of the ceremony. Her looks attracted me and I kept watching her. Shashi Mama appeared at my side and asked me where I was looking. I hesitated but then he pointedly asked me if I was looking at ‘that girl’. Caught, I had to say yes.

Shashi Mama, “Do you like her?”

Me, “Yes.”

Shashi Mama, “Do you recognize her?”

Me, “No.”

Shashi Mama, “ Well, she is Binno.”

I was stunned. The ground slipped under me. I needed to sit down but couldn’t move. Shashi Mama helped me to a chair.

Let’s start from the very beginning, a very good place to start.

In 1940, Kailash Nath Sharma and Kishen Chand Mehrish were studying in Agra University and staying in a hostel. Being members of a small Suryadhwaj Brahmin community and having common relatives, they became close friends. Both were married with Kailashji having a 2-year old son that is me, and Kishenji having a daughter and a son. When they got together after the summer vacation, Kishenji (Babuji) told Kailashji (Daddy) that the former’s wife was in the family way. Daddy said to him, “If you have a girl, we’ll get her married to Ravi.” But a boy arrived and the plan fell through. A year later, Daddy passed away.

In 1948, Pitaji and Mataji met Babuji and Amma (Babuji’s wife) at the wedding of Amma’s brother in Bharatpur. They saw an infant girl in Amma’s arms. Perhaps Mummy had told them about the 1940 idea for they immediately told Babuji to keep the girl for their grandson, me!

In 1961, I went on leave to Delhi where Pitaji was posted. Mummy asked Babuji to come to Delhi with his family. They came to Pitaji’s house on 1 Teenmurti Lane and had tea with us. Akhila (Binno) then was a lanky girl who had barely entered her teens and was in School. When they left, Mummy asked me how I liked her. I said she is fine but too young and should continue her education.

I got busy in the Navy with different appointments and transfers and whenever Mummy spoke about marriage, I said I was not ready. But both my folks and Akhila’s kept in touch and had mentally decided on the match. I, however, had my doubts about how Akhila, brought up in the orthodox and conservative background of Bijnor, would adapt to the liberal environment of the Navy. My folks kept applying pressure on me to marry which had an adverse effect on me. The stronger the pressure, the more I rebelled and opposed the match. In time, Mummy also appeared to have given up the idea and stopped writing in her letters or talking about it when we met. By February 1972, as far as I was concerned, the matter was closed.

Imagine my shock when Shashi Mama told me that the girl I was looking at was Akhila! Shashi Mama narrated what had happened. Mummy had quietly planned the whole thing. She wrote to Babuji that we were going to attend a wedding in Delhi and asked them to come having taken Savitri Aunty into confidence and obtained an invitation for them. At first, Amma was reluctant as she saw no point in meeting us with no signs of my having changed my mind. Babuji, however, persuaded her to give it one final shot and confirmed to Mummy that they would be there.

Akhila was not told anything about all this and was just tempted with the chance of a trip to Delhi. Once there, Babuji asked her to accompany them to a wedding reception. She was quite upset as she said she had not come prepared for such a formal occasion. She had, however, brought a newly purchased silk sari to get a matching blouse stitched. She was taken to Janpath to buy a shawl which would cover the unmatching blouse! And that is how she appeared that evening, 17 February 1972, watching the Jaimala ceremony and me in turn watching her! 

Shashi Mama then asked me if he should take the matter further. I was hesitant and wondered what would be Akhila’s reaction after all my naysaying over the years. The shoe was now on the other foot and would she accept me or turn me down? Shashi Mama said if I was convinced, he would talk to Babuji and Amma and tell them ‘Ravi is willin’.’ With some trepidation, I asked him to go ahead.

Shashi Mama spoke to them and they said they would talk to Akhila at night. The next morning, 18th February, Babuji rang up to say they had managed to get Akhila to say yes. Shashi Mama invited them for lunch during which the engagement was firmed up. Mummy, Mamiji and I went to Connaught Place to buy a ring which was duly slipped by me on Akhila’s finger on our return. Roughly, the wedding was planned for summer. 

I asked if Akhila and I could go out the next day. And so we had our one and only date before marriage and went to see a movie called ‘April Fool’! Shashi Mama organized an engagement party that evening at the SP Marg Mess. It was well attended headed by Admiral Chatterji who gave his fatherly approval of my choice!

The following day, Babuji and family went back to Bijnor and I to Vizag. I told  Admiral Sarma, my boss, and the fleet staff about my engagement and they were all very happy for me. Back in my cabin, I thought that now that our minds have been made up, why wait till the summer. I spoke to the Admiral the next morning and asked him if I could go back and get married as the fleet was not likely to be active for quite some time yet. He readily said yes, I could take another month off.

I spoke to Pitaji and Mummy and asked them to arrange the wedding as soon as possible. They in turn got in touch with Babuji. Initially, there was resistance from Amma and Akhila who said they would need time for preparations. Babuji overcame that with one sentence, “For something that I have waited for so many years, I am not going to wait a day more than necessary.” The family Pandit was consulted who said the only auspicious date was 11 March which was agreed upon by both families.

On 7th March I flew to Delhi where my wedding outfit was completed with the addition of a suit stitched urgently and another purchased readymade. The wedding took place in Bijnor on the due date and all close relatives from both sides were able to attend despite the short notice with just one exception. Shashi Mama who had done so much spadework leading to the engagement was unable to come to Bijnor as his younger daughter developed fever.

We returned to Delhi on 12th March and proceeded to Jaipur and Ajmer, where Mummy was posted, for receptions. Akhila and I were back in Vizag early April.

Thus the script of our marriage story which was first thought of in 1940 remained a concept for 32 years but then took just 3 weeks to be written from engagement to marriage!

P.S. My apprehensions about Akhila settling down in the naval environment proved to be unfounded. She not only adjusted rapidly but knew instinctively what to get involved in and what to stay away from. 

P.P.S. We must end on a light note. Viji Malhotra, one of the few friends who attended the wedding, has this story over which we have laughed many a time. On its way back to Delhi, the ‘baraat’ bus made a short stop at Hapur. Most of the male members rushed to stand against the nearest wall. This offended Vinnie (Cmde VK Sharma) Mama’s sense of decency causing him to shake his head and, sitting in the bus, disparagingly remark, “Verry bad”.

Trini Lopez

 

Sad to hear the news of Trini Lopez passing away. He was 83 but his end was hastened by, what else, Covid-19!

Trini was not in my thoughts for many years. But this news took me straight back to the golden decade of the 60s when in every party, after a few drinks, we would get around to singing his songs “If I Had A Hammer” and “Lemon Tree” which ‘is very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet, but the fruit of the lemon is impossible to eat’. I don’t entirely agree with Trini for I am fond of eating lemon in its raw form! But I guess he was meaning it figuratively as the lyrics that follow show.

Then there was the evergreen “La Bamba” which Ritchie Valens had brought out in 1958 but Trini lent it his own charm and passion to make it to the top of the pops in 1966. It had Spanish lyrics but that didn’t stop us from humming along and shouting “arriba arriba’, ‘soy capitan’ and ‘Bam-ba Bamba’ which we could decipher ourselves. With its fascinating rhythm, we would all be on our feet, clapping and dancing well into the night. “La Bamba” would be familiar to younger generations as well with its revival in 1987 by Los Lobos and its inclusion in the Best Rock and Roll Songs of all time.

Trini is no more but his departure has revived memories of days full of fun and laughter. It is impossible not to get nostalgic and recall Mary Hopkin's unforgettable lyrics, ‘We’d live the life we choose, we’d fight and never lose, for we were young and sure to have our way.’ 

And now, ‘I saw a strange reflection, was that lonely sailor really me?......Oh, my friend, we're older but no wiser, for in our hearts the dreams are still the same."

Trini Lopez, RIP.

BRIEF CONVERSATIONS

 1. Me: “I am going mad.”

Akhila: “Why?”

Me: “I don’t know, I’m just going mad.”

Akhila: “But that you’ve always been.”

Thanks

2. Shumita is reading a book of quirky quotes to her 7-year old son, Raghav.

Raghav: “ I’ll give this book to Nanu.”

Shumita: “Why?”

Raghav: “Nanu is nutty.”

Et tu, Raghav!

3. I ask Shiven, my 11 year old grandson, “Do you think I am nuts?”

Shiven: “No, I think you are amazingly funny.”

Watch this boy. He is going to be a very successful diplomat.

4. Cmde Malia’s jam… sorry, gem.

A naval officer undergoing training in UK is dating a British girl. Since his pocket is not overly jangling with coins, he takes her to a pub where they should be serving free snacks. To make sure he asks, “Do you serve nuts?”

Bartender: “Yes, yes, we don’t care. We serve all alike, nuts or sane.”

I could go to that pub.

5. One for 'resuming golf' times. A course shares its boundary with a lunatic asylum. A golfer’s ball goes close to the fence where an asylum inmate is intently watching.

Inmate: “Excuse me sir, what are you doing?”

Golfer: “ I am playing golf.”

Inmate: “And pray, sir, what do you have to do?”

Golfer: “You see this ball. I am trying to put this in the hole on that yonder green.”

Inmate: “ Hmm, I see. Come in and join us. We are all like that only.”

I think I'll stick to Solitaire.

BRING UP MY MASHIE

Covid-19 has put golf off our calendars. After more than 55 years of an average twice a week golf barring seatime or inaccessibility to a course, my golf came to a stop on 19th March this year with the closing of clubs. Golf courses are opening up now though with a lot of constraints like compulsory prior booking, no caddies and catering facilities and the now normal conditions of face masks, social distancing etc. Add to that the mental resistance caused by 4 1/2 months of lockdowns and the 'unlock' process becomes harder to execute.

The itch to get back to golf is slowly developing and I hope I can soon return to the fairways and greens, not bunkers! To get in the mood, I picked up P.G.Wodehouse’s 'The Golf Omnibus' and some of my previous pieces on golf. Here are some musings which I have put together before I eventually make my way back to the golf course.

In the Preface of the 'Omnibus', I read PGW's lament about the vanishing  of  “the names of most golf clubs so dear to me”, something I have myself felt quite often. He wrote, “I believe one still drives with a driver nowadays, though at any moment we may have to start calling it the Number One wood, but where is the mashie now, where the cleek, the spoon and the baffy?”

Where indeed and why? Would it not be infinitely more romantic if we were to tee-off on a tight fairway with the brassie, pull out a mashie to put the shot in the hole and get an albatross rather than a soulless 2 wood and 5 iron to get a double eagle? What fun to send a ball soaring over trees with a spoon and lovingly coax it towards the hole with a niblick instead of the bland nos. 5 and 9! Wodehouse surmises it might have to do with ‘Progress’ but it was “a pity to cast away lovely names like mashie and baffy in favour of numbers.” 

Was Wodehouse trying to lay the blame of progress on the Americans? Undoubtedly, they are strong on numbers as seen by their fondness for marking streets and avenues in their cities. But this contrasts with their very imaginative naming of golf courses. They have courses named after alcohol such as the Bootleg, Rum River and Scotch Pines; after animals eg, Crumpin’ Fox, Kissing Camels, Rat River and Possum Trot; descriptive like Whispering Pines, Singing hills, Argue-ment and Useless Bay (perhaps named by someone driving a lot of balls in the sea); and tongue twisters like Ngaruawahia, Pauatahanui and Kaitangata. Good luck to golfers asking for directions to get there!

A lot of courses have a story behind their names. Frank Wisner, former US Ambassador to India, took me to a club a couple of hours' drive from New York City. The story goes that some golfers from NYC were looking for a place to swing a club and having driven a considerable distance, stopped to ask a Chinese how far the nearest course was. The answer, "Morefar" earned the club its present name, "Morefar Back O'Beyond". 

Then they have a club named "A Lil' bit a Heaven" which golfers could justifiably call any golf course in the world.

We have shown a singular lack of imagination in naming our golf courses which are mostly designated after the city of location. So we have Delhi Golf Club, DLF Golf Club, Royal Calcutta Golf Club, Bombay Presidency Golf Club, Noida Golf Course etc. We have numerous Army Golf Courses all over the country called just that! Surely, we can break out of the mould with some exotic names.

Indian caddies are more ingenuous. They have apt names for golfers in their club. I stumbled upon this fact in the Delhi Golf Club when I overheard a caddie tell another, “Kachua (tortoise) has arrived.” Not seeing any creature of that kind, I asked the caddie what he meant. It took some persuasion for him to tell me that he was referring to an individual famous for his slow play. 

Subsequently, I coaxed the caddies in the Army Golf Course to open up and give me some names.  They came up with “Putt-to-half” for one who never counted his strokes and made this declaration to his opponent on finally arriving at the green, “Mogambo” for a player who terrorised his caddie for not finding his ball in the rough, “Rahu-Ketu” for the duo that always played together but fought on every hole, 'Puch-puch' for one who always made a kissing sound when drawing his caddie's attention, and so on. 

The caddies do not spare there own tribe too. They have a Naagin and a Sapera addicted to drugs, a Ganapati fond of laddoos and a Dasehri for one very fond of mangoes!

No amount of coaxing would make them say if they had a name for me. I suspect, though, that they call me a ‘Javelin-thrower’ given my habit of often hurling my club like a javelin that would put Odin, the Norse god, to shame!

So bring up my mashie, niblick, spoon, some guttapercha balls and plus-fours and help me find my way to the golf course for auld lang syne.

 

An Anecdote to go with Long 'C' At Last

In our Course, we had a good student, G, and a bad student, B. B copied from G in an exam but when the results came out, G had very good marks and B much less. B went to the examiner and asked how his marks were lower than G's when their answers were identical. The examiner asked B how he knew the answers were identical. B beat a hasty retreat and let the matter rest there!

SIGNAL SCHOOL - For Worse Then Better

I joined Signal School at the naval base INS Venduruthy, Cochin, just before Christmas in 1969. This was to be a temporary assignment as I was standby to go to UK for a course for joining a Weapons Acceptance Testing and Trials (WATT) team for inspecting and accepting equipment for the Leander class frigates under construction at the Mazagon Docks, Bombay. However, in about a month we learnt that the Royal Navy had cancelled the Course presumably as the UK government was irked by India placing an order for buying ships from the Soviet Union. Consequently, my appointment at Cochin became permanent.

The Oic (Officer-in-charge) headed the School and I was third in seniority on the staff after the Chief Instructor (CI) and another officer. I was given the portfolio of W1 in the section for teaching Radio Organisation.  The then CI who had risen from the ranks and the next officer had reportedly fallen foul of the Oic and were soon eased out and the mantle of CI fell on my shoulders. Not that the Oic thought much of me but with his modus operandi of having one smart and intelligent person as his aide and confidant who he had already picked before I joined the School, someone was needed for the unglamorous daily grind that went with the job of the CI. Actually, the designation of CI was a bit of a misnomer; the CI was more of an administrative head rather than that of training.

At this point, let me say that the Oic was simply the worst officer I ever suffered under! There was something wrong with the man; he was tall but he only used his height to look down on people; he would have been handsome if only he wore a smile instead of a perpetual scowl which PG Wodehouse would have attributed to dyspepsia. I heard him laugh occasionally but the laughter was derisive and not joyous. He was always bitter and sarcastic and never seemed happy and content.

The base at Cochin had two major establishments, Venduruthy and Garuda. While the former consisted of various schools for training, Garuda was the naval air station. Off working hours, the personnel at Cochin were kept busy with sports and cultural activities. Tournaments and competitions were held with Venduruthy fielding a team for each school and Garuda as one unit. This was quite unfair as it put the schools at a disadvantage firstly because of sheer numbers and secondly, the schools had a floating population with trainees coming and going while Garuda staff was stable. Garuda, therefore, used to win most of the competitions. Our Oic saw this as an opportunity to make his mark. He told Cmde RS Malia, CO Venduruthy, that Signal School would break Garuda’s monopoly. Thereafter, our entire effort was to build teams that would beat Garuda. I was tasked to get the best signals sportsmen from the Navy on our staff, if necessary on temporary duty for the duration of an event, and put them under intensive training and special diet for each competition.

As a result, the events became exclusively Garuda vs Signal School affairs. Competition was intense which would have been fine except that it often took a dirty turn with unfair practices and protests gaining priority over sportsmanship. ‘Win at any cost’ became the motto for Signal School and consequently for Garuda. A loss would incur the Oic’s wrath for long after the event while a win would be treated as routine.

On one occasion after a tense final, I went to the US Club to bask in the glory of a victory and have a drink. The Oic and his confidant were already in the bar. The former asked me in a taunting tone, “What are YOU celebrating?” as if the School win should be anathema to me !

I used to look forward to weekend golf at Bolghatti to unwind. I would drive in my Standard Herald to Ernakulam and catch a ferry to the island. To begin with, I was the only golfer from the Navy and my co-players were largely from the Cochin tea community. Later, Rear Admiral Vasu Kamath took over as Flag Officer Commanding Southern Naval Area (FOCSOUTH). He was a keen golfer and asked me to join him. The bonus was a ride in the Admiral’s barge to and fro instead of the earlier car and ferry routine.

Cdr L Ramdas was Oic Naval Academy. Adm Katari, his father-in-law and the first Indian naval chief, used to visit Cochin occasionally. He was also a golfer and we had many games together including one in which both the Admiral and Cdr Ramdas hit a British tea planter on the leg with their drives one after the other. Sure had the guy hopping mad!

Apart from golf, I had my pet Pomeranian Lucky to keep me occupied in my spare time and give me company at home - my cabin. Lucky’s popularity among children of the base earned me the sobriquet of ‘Lucky Uncle’! There was music, of course, and friends naval and teawallahs. I used to meet the latter quite often and remember Timmy Thimaiyya who used to sing Pankaj Mullick songs beautifully. Then there was Jani Uthup who bagged Usha Iyer!

Having learnt to tolerate Oic’s ways and with the School coming on top in most activities, I thought things were reasonably under control. Then came ACR (annual confidential report) time and Cdr Kewal Gulati, Secretary to FOCSOUTH rang me up and asked me what was going on between the Oic and me? I was taken aback by the question and he continued by saying that the Oic had given me a stinker of a report which totally surprised Adm Kamath. The latter had got to know me well and told Cdr Gulati that even if I had some professional shortcomings which the Oic could perhaps be the best judge of, overall I could not be as bad as made out in the report. He asked Cdr Gulati to return the report and have it rewritten. This was done and the report was considerably mellowed! I guess a lot of damage was averted although I feel that my non-selection of Staff College in 1973 was a consequence of this.

Mercifully, we had a change of Oic at the end of the year and Cdr SD ‘Clinker’ Karve took over. What an enormous relief it was. Clinker Karve was a cool, relaxed, pipe smoking officer, always smiling. He was a thorough professional who expected the best but gave a free hand for one to do the job and would not interfere unless absolutely necessary. Extra curricular activities remained important but not at the expense of professionalism and sporting spirit.

Life now proceeded smoothly and happily. Visits of ships from Bombay were looked forward to for meeting friends. These visits were also utilized for operational exercises. It was on one such visit that prompted Cmde Malia to come out with his ‘Romeo Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ quote which I have written about in my earlier post “Naval Operations And Exercises That Went Awry”.

In October 1971, I went to Bombay to take part in the Navy Golf Championship. On my return, I found a message from Cdr Karve to contact him immediately. I rang him up and he told me that I had been appointed Fleet Communication Officer of the newly formed Eastern Fleet and should leave for Vishakhapatnam the very next day. One had to change trains at Madras and en route I should check if Vikrant was in port in which case I was to board it there itself.

Fortunately, as a bachelor my worldly possessions were scant. I put everything in a box and a bedding and left behind my car, music system and golf set with a friend to be transported later. There were many contenders for Lucky who was finally whisked off by Vijay Prasada.

Next afternoon, I was 'beered' out by Cdr Ravi Sawhney and Kailash Kohli in the US Club and deposited in the train.






 

Happy Days On Trishul

I reported on board the frigate Trishul in mid-August 1968. Captain S Rajendra was in command and the ship was undergoing a short refit and not scheduled to sail till the end of the year. This made it possible for all newcomers to settle down, get to know the ship and each other well. All of us specialists were fresh from our long courses and, therefore, ‘hot’. The Navigating Officer was RD ‘Roly’ Lewin, RB ‘Bunny’ Suri was the Gunnery Officer, RG ‘Gulu’ Kumar the Torpedo and Anti-Submarine Officer and I, the Signals Communications Officer.

In November, the command changed hands and Captain JS ‘Jaggi’ Bawa took over. In December, we started sailing for trials and were fully operational by the end of the year.

Early in January 1969, Trishul and Talwar sailed on a goodwill cruise to three Gulf countries. Our first stop was Kuwait. After the usual sightseeing, we were invited in the evening to a cocktail party by some Britishers working in the oil companies. The party was in the house of one of them. On arrival, we were asked what drink we would like, whisky substitute, rum substitute or gin substitute? We were perplexed and inquired what was this substitute business? Their reply,  “You see, there is prohibition in Kuwait, so we cannot buy liquor. However, we are allowed to distil our own liquor inside the home premises. Hence the ‘substitutes.’” After which we were taken on a tour of the back lawn where we were shown the mini distillery plants. The ‘substitutes’ were not bad at all!

In Kuwait, the two ships were at anchorage to start with but on the last day, they were shifted to the oil jetty for fuelling. After the ships had secured alongside, we were free to go ashore and return by 6 pm for sailing to Bahrain, our next port of call. As the oil jetty was quite far from the gate of the port complex, minibuses had been arranged to transport us from the ship to the gate and back.

Ashok Batra, who had wangled to be on board for the cruise after serving as Flag Lt to the CNS, and I went out and returned at about 5.45 pm. We found the driver sleeping in the minibus and asked him to take us to the ship. The latter said in his Arabic English, “Your ship gone.” We thought he was annoyed at our disturbing his nap and requested him to hurry as our ship had to sail shortly. But he was adamant and refused to move saying, no, there is no ship, I saw your ship sail about an hour ago and it is gone.

At that time, it was quite dark and we could not see the ships. The earth slipped from under our feet and Ashok and I were thunderstruck at the thought of being left behind in a foreign country. Just when all seemed lost, a car arrived and out came Jaggi Bawa and Cdr HKL Bhagat, CO Talwar. I cannot describe our relief at seeing them as we thought, “OK, we are safe. If the Captains are also stranded, we are in good company!”

Capt Bawa in his casual nonchalant style said, “Come on boys, let’s go.” We recounted what the driver had told us and the driver confirmed it. For a while, the Captains were stunned too but then Cdr Bhagat said, “The ships can’t sail. We are the two Captains and the ships can’t go without us.” At this, the driver reluctantly told us to get in and drove to the jetty. Sure enough, the ships were very much there well secured alongside!

We then learnt that the driver was not completely wrong. While getting ready to sail, it is normal to check the propellers by turning them slowly. In this case, the Engine Room had erred by providing too much steam with the result that the ship gathered momentum, the ropes securing the ship to the jetty snapped and the ship got underway. Roly Lewin, who was on the bridge, promptly ordered the anchors to be dropped and the ship was brought to a stop. Thereafter, tugs which were standing by, brought the ship back alongside and a major disaster was averted. The driver had seen the part where the ship broke off from the jetty and thought that the ships had sailed!

We sailed later that evening and reached Bahrain the next afternoon after a rough passage owing to ‘Shamal’, a strong north-eastern wind in those parts. Bahrain was more open than Kuwait with a large number of expatriates working in the oil industry. Ashok had the contact of a big businessman, Anwar Ashraf, who looked after us during our stay there. In particular, I remember going to an evening party which could have been straight out of James Bond’s Goldfinger with girls dressed in golden costumes and roulette tables to gamble on.

After four enjoyable days, we sailed to Sharjah which is less than an hour’s drive from Dubai which we could also visit for sightseeing and shopping. The highlight was a lunch hosted by the Ruler of Sharjah at which about 100 officers and sailors from each ship were invited. Add to it a large number of local invitees and you have about 500 people at a sit-down meal! There were three long tables for the guests with a smaller head table at right angles at one end for the Ruler, the two Captains, diplomats and local VIPs. Laid out on the tables at reachable intervals were large dishes of rice with huge pieces of camel meat sitting in the centre of the rice. Our Electrical Officer, Cdr 'L', a pukka brown sahib with impeccable manners, was impressed at the sight of the dish and expressed his appreciation to the local guests sitting next to him while most of us, not used to the idea of camel meat, were wondering what we were going to eat as there was precious else!

After settling in our chairs, we waited for the head of the table to start but were told by the locals to help ourselves because the custom was that the Ruler would only serve himself after all the guests had done so. As soon as we made a move, the locals dug into the camel meat tearing out large chunks with their bare hands. One of them bit into a piece and not quite liking it, put it back in the main dish. Cdr 'L', who was politely awaiting his turn, saw this, exclaimed disapprovingly, “I say!”, and thereafter stayed away from helping himself to the camel meat he was so eagerly looking forward to devouring. Vegetarians like me got to eat nothing anyway.

Sharjah marked the end of our cruise and as the Indian Fleet was already at sea, we were asked to join it off Bombay. On rendezvousing with the Fleet, we were ordered to take station ahead of the flagship Mysore which was leading the ships in a single column formation. This was unusual as in a column, ships are usually positioned in order of seniority of the Commanding Officers. We had barely reached our station when a wheel ('Corpen' in naval signal terms) to a new course was executed. This manoeuvre requires the leading ship to turn to the new course with the rest of the ships turning in its wake maintaining relative bearing and distances. The manoeuvre automatically transfers the role of the guide to the leading ship which identifies itself by hoisting the flag G on the masthead.

We started turning and just then our Chief Yeoman, the seniormost signals sailor on board, whispered to me, “Sir, we should be the guide.” I immediately shouted, "Hoist Golf (flag G)” and the flag was hoisted. Soon we were ordered to take our proper station down the line and the flagship resumed being the guide. Exercises continued and on completion, we happily returned to Bombay.

Subsequently during the debrief of the exercises, the FCO (Fleet Communications Officer) Lt Cdr “Clinker” Karve told me that our stationing at the head of the column and the wheeling were ordered with a view to check our quick reactions. The moment the Corpen signal was made, some eager bodies on the flagship pointed out, “Trishul has not hoisted Golf”. But before a ‘bottle’ (rebuke) could be broadcast, the flag went up silencing would-be critics. Situation saved and a favourable first impression created which shows how small issues can make a big difference.

Thereafter, we took part in a number of fleet exercises and the ship performed well. The four specialists, Roly Lewin, Bunny Suri, Gulu Kumar and I combined smoothly and functioned as a well-oiled team. Occasionally, there were hitches in the gunnery fire control system which actually was the responsibility of the Electrical department. However, as the Captain and Cdr ‘L’ were batchmates, the Captain took out his anger on poor Bunny who took all the ‘bottles’ calmly. Good old Bunny, God rest his soul.

I had an able assistant in Lt Mohan Singh, an ex-telegraphist who had risen to officer ranks. He looked after the communication sets and wireless operators and ensured they operated at high efficiency. He was a Marwari from Jodhpur, from my state of Rajasthan. When he went on leave, I asked him to get me a bottle of Kesar Kasturi, an exclusive and exquisite drink from Jodhpur so potent it appeared to set your body on fire!

At sea, Roly and I spent most of the day on the bridge of the ship. Roly was always hungry and the duty steward had instructions to constantly supply chopped ham sandwiches and sausages on the bridge. I must confess, that though a vegetarian, Roly ‘forced’ me into sharing the eats to the extent of my actually becoming fond of them and treating them as ‘veg’!

During the monsoon months of July and August, the aircraft carrier Vikrant was deployed on the East Coast in order to carry out flight operations unhindered by weather. Trishul was ordered to accompany Vikrant as the rescue ship in case of any aircraft emergency. One emergency did occur when an Alize piloted by Lt Ashok ‘Aku’ Roy had an engine failure and had to ditch. We charged to the spot and started lowering a boat when Vikrant’s helicopter beat us to it by picking up the three-men crew, Aku, Lt ‘Harry’ Sirohi and a sailor. It was a testimony to Aku’s skill as a pilot that he made a perfect landing in choppy sea to enable all three to get out of the aircraft safe and unhurt. Two years later, Aku’s luck was to run out when he and Sirohi fell victims to a Pak fighter shooting them down in the ’71 war.

On the East Coast, Madras was our base where Vikrant and Trishul returned for weekends. Madras was a fun city with friendly people who welcomed us and organized events to keep us busy. One regular feature was a hockey match between the ships and a girls’ team called ‘Shamrocks’. If I remember right, the men had to play one-handed and did not mind losing to the girls!

We had a boisterous wardroom and kept ourselves entertained with loud music much to the discomfort of our Cdr ’L’ who was the Mess President but stayed away from the wardroom except for meals. ‘60s were the famous decade for pop music and songs of those days are unforgettable and popular to this day. Tom Jones, Englebert Humperdinck, Simon and Garfunkel, Aretha Franklin and  Creedence Clearwater Revival were coming up with one hit after another. Beatles were still on top of the pops and Roly and I would keep up the ‘la-la-la-lalala-lala of Hey Jude long after the disc was over. Some singles are worth mentioning too: Lulu’s “To Sir With Love”, Archies’ “Sugar Sugar”, Sam the Sham’s “Wooly Bully’ and Herman’s Hermits’ “I Am Into Something Good”. As Mary Hopkin sang, “Those were the Days”!

We returned to Bombay end-August when Bunny Suri decided to get hitched. He threw a big cocktail party which went long into the night at the end of which Jayanto Roy Chowdhry, JK ‘Lala’ Talwar and I decided to step out and eat at Bade Miya’s stall near Taj Hotel. When we got there, we found he had packed up. Hungry as we were, we decided to go to Sea Lounge at the Taj. We ordered Swedish Open sandwiches and the waiter brought a large tray of assorted ones. One each was not enough and Roy Chow assured us that he had had these before and the price on the menu was for the whole tray. So we gorged ourselves but when the bill came, found that we had been charged for every single piece we had eaten. Roy Chow and I said we had no money and Lala Talwar had to shell out a substantial sum cursing us with a “You and your Swedish Open Sandwiches”!

India’s first discotheque, Blow Up, had started functioning at the Taj and with the latest sound system and psychedelic lights, was a big attraction. One evening, Gulu Kumar invited two girls to the ship and asked me to join. After a few drinks we decided to go to Blow Up. I settled down looking forward to a long evening of enjoyable music and atmosphere while Gulu and the girls engaged in some talk. Abruptly, Gulu drew my attention and said he and the girls had had a big fight. He took out his car keys and asked me to drop them at Malabar Hill as he did not want to be with them. It all happened too fast and in a kind of daze, I found myself driving Gulu’s car with the girls seated at the back. As I drove, I started musing over the strange turn of events which had me driving Gulu’s friends instead of relaxing at Blow Up while he, whose guests they were, had washed his hands off them! By now, I was in a rage which kept rising and I started driving fast. Suddenly near Taraporevala Aquarium, the right wheels of the car went over the foot-high divider. The girls screamed but I kept driving at the same speed with the car tilted on the separator till the crossing when the car thudded back on the road. I kept going and on reaching their house, told them to leave. I headed back to Blow Up where I examined the car and the damage. I found Gulu and recounted what had happened and offered to pay for the repairs. We went back to the ship and next morning, Gulu got in touch with his insurance agent who said he would take care of the damage. Gulu also got a call from the girls who told him that his friend was mad!

The amazing part was that the car did not overturn and kept going and none of us even had a scratch. A testament to my driving skills developed from the age of 13!

In October, I went to Delhi as a member of the Navy Golf team to take part in the Inter-Services tournament. I visited my old boss, Admiral Chatterji, the CNS, and had a pleasant tete-a-tete with him. Later, I was told by his Flag Lt Cdr, Avinash Bhatia, that the Admiral had said to him, “Ravi came and spent an hour with me and did not even ask for anything!”

By the time I returned to Bombay, I learnt that NHQ was setting up a Weapons Acceptance Trials Team (WATT), including a Communicator, that would be sent to UK for a 3-month course. The team would inspect the equipment for the Leander class frigates which were being constructed in Mazagon Docks, Bombay. I thought since the Admiral himself expected me to ask for something, there was no harm in my bidding to be on the WATT team. So I wrote to Avinash asking him to suggest my name to the CNS. Promptly came a letter from NHQ that I was in the team and to standby for further instructions.

Little did I know that I had ruffled some feathers. Viji Malhotra who was Asstt Director Naval Signals (ADNS) told me that Cmde EJ Debu, DNS, and Cdr APS Radhakrishnan, DDNS, were most upset at being told by the CNS who should be on the WATT team. They could not say no to the CNS but Ravi Sharma was in the doghouse!

By that time, Trishul had been nominated to go to Japan for EXPO in early 1970 and all transfers were frozen. DNS visited Trishul and told me that I was being transferred to Signal School Cochin in a month. I pointed out that according to NHQ policy, there were to be no transfers at this stage. He said no, this did not apply to me as I was standby to go to UK and should be available at short notice and that Lt THR Iyer had already been appointed to take over from me!

I joined the Signal School in the last week of December '69 and so ended my happy and rewarding stay on Trishul.

P.S. India had by then placed an order for some ships and missile boats from the Soviet Union much to the annoyance of UK which till then was our major supplier. As a result, the Royal Navy cancelled the WATT course making me miss both Japan and UK and staying put in Co-Co-Co-Cochin for 22 months!