Dufferin - A Sad Tale!

         In 1964 I completed my Pre-University, a one-year Course from Brennen College, Tellichery, Kerala. Having done my schooling in Madras, how I landed up in Kerala, is a story in itself and figures in the blog; "Scholar's Mate".

That was the last year Kerala was following the PUC system. From the next year onwards, it was straight to Degree Course after the 10+2 Schooling system. So, I claim to be one among the last batch of PUC from Kerala. After that I was back in Madras for my College. In the interim, my father had obtained the prospectus of INS Dufferin for my sake. I would stick with INS and not TS (Training Ship, as she was christened later). He thought a career as a Marine Officer might be good.

INS Dufferin was the training ship for Merchant Navy. When I saw the prospectus, I was thrilled. Dufferin seemed to offer everything that I liked, including Boxing, by way of training. Only, one had to study too for a degree, which they would confer. But given my liking for any water body and more so the oceans, that could be managed, I thought. I found myself getting very keen.

Right from school, I had developed a liking for the Navy. One reason could be an inherent liking for water. In our house in Kerala, we had the kolam, which was standard in any Kerala house of some standing. Due to an uncle who threw me into the middle of that kolam when I was three years old, I had learnt swimming in one go. To be alive, I had to kick and flail. I managed to reach the safety of the steps spluttering and coughing from all the water that I had swallowed and very short of breath. Immediately after, I picked up some loose stones and threw at him, with all the anger inside. He just stood there guffawing. Once I got my breath back and all the water inside coughed out, I was surprised to find that my fear had vanished. I ventured out to the middle all on my own. That was it.

From then on, once I entered the kolam, it took hours for me to come out and that too only when shouted at and threatened by uncles and grandparents. This spending of hours playing around in the water was normal for any boy or girl in Kerala, those days. I loved it. That must be the root cause for my later brother-in-law to remark that I had the "opposite of hydrophobia". It was and still is, true. I love the lakes, streams, rivers, oceans; you name it.

Another reason must have been that in our school in the Junior Wing NCC, the Officer concerned who commanded the parades was one of my teachers who was of the Naval Wing. His crisp white uniform did impress me, apart from his marching. So, vaguely I thought joining Navy would be a good idea when I grew up. Both the white dress and life on the vast waters seemed good. I do not know why I did not join NCC in school! There was something known as Auxiliary Cadet Corps, and I was in it instead.

A third reason must have been the stories and poems of seafarers that I read both in English and in vernacular. The voyages, storms, the masts, the mariner's wheel, ship-wrecks, unknown shores, strange people of intriguing lands, the virgin islands, the dangers faced and overcome - in short, the entire adventure on the seas, not to forget fighting the heroic, legendary eye-patched pirates. It all seemed thrilling. Added to such fictions were the naval war stories: The Vikings, the Spanish Armada, Lord Nelson etc. And also, there was Kunhali Marakkar's heroics, he being from my place of birth. There was a lot of masculinity and heroism in a seaman, to my mind. "Yo ho and a bottle of rum" (Treasure Island).

Written exam for Dufferin was a breeze. Just one essay! That's all. The topic I chose from a dozen was, "Standing in a Street Corner". That was a hobby of mine! I used to love observing people. So that was easy. Those of us shortlisted had to undergo a medical test. In that, there was an eye test. It is very strange that whenever I narrated about this test to those from the Navy, Coast Guard or the Merchant Navy, they all deny the existence of such a test! Very uncanny. And eerie to think of it!

I was called into a dark room. It was not just dark, but pitch dark. The Doctor, must be the eye specialist, held my shoulders and guided me to some contraption that felt like a veterinarian's crush. I could feel large round metal bars beside my shoulders and above my head. I had to place my chin on something and look at a screen, somewhat like now what the optometrists have for a computer check of the eye, but a huge one. Remember, this was in 1964.

It all started with large independent lights like the traffic lights. Red, Amber and Green. Then they became smaller. Then they came in pairs, in different combinations and getting continually smaller. I had to call out the colours. At some stage, I couldn't make them out. They became just white. And my eyes started watering. Due to the tears or what I do not know, the lights seemed to be swimming! The good Doctor tried to encourage me, saying, "Come on. Try, try". At one point, I gave up. He took me out of the room and looking at me, sighed with a smile, which I would like to think was sad. On a piece of paper which contained my particulars, he put a large rectangular stamp that shouted out, "Failed" in red.

I kept staring at the stamp. I still feel the lump that came up in my throat, then. For the first time, such a mark came up anywhere in my records. That made me feel that something was wrong with my eyes. And in the first year of College, I started wearing spectacles. However, later eye tests proved consistently, that I was not colour blind. Or that I had any eye defect other than myopia.

What that test was, is a mystery. Especially when all the Mariners I asked, denied having undergone such a test. I was, and am not, hallucinating, I promise. Anyhow, that put an end to my Naval, Merchant or otherwise, aspirations. Recognising distant ships by the lights, reading semaphore and optical signalling were all critical those days. Even in our school NCC, cadets used to learn semaphore signalling, and demonstrate on annual day of the school.

Later, in the mid -70s, I did some sailing in Enterprise class boats in Hussain Sagar. God, that was so enjoyable! The pleasure as you lean on the edge backwards with your head skimming the waters was indescribable. Many of my colleagues went on to sail nationally and internationally. And I watched them from the shore, forlorn!

If I had got through that eye test, I suppose, I would have retired, not only with all the adventure and heroism, stories with which I could impress my grandchildren, but also with a load of money. That was not to be. Later, some friends, girls obviously, looked at my palm and said that I would never be rich for I had gaps between the fingers! Money would slip through, they said! And so, they too did!

Oh, I still long to be on a sailing ship.

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