Brahmaputra Blues

Jan 1979 - May 1979

One of my favourite literary works is 'Through the looking glass’ by Lewis Carroll. "Well, in our country", said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else, if you ran very fast for a very long time, as we've been doing." "A slow sort of country!" said the Queen, "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running to do, to keep in the same place."

After we graduated from INS Mysore, the sea cadets were divided into two lots and sent to INS Brahmaputra and INS Krishna, minus the ten cadets who chose to join the Engineering and Electrical branch. This was the first time we wore Midshipman's epaulettes and felt like officers. Only beer was allowed in the Mid's bar and with a limit of three cans a day. But the beer was Heineken, Tiger and Oranjeboom and the cigarettes were 555 or India Kings, nothing less. Our first pay was a Princely Rs 519/- and as the saying goes we would 'splurge it like a sailor on shore leave'. Fortunately a can of beer cost just Rs 3/- and a pack of cigarettes cost even less than that. It was an open bar system with stress laid on honour and integrity. Anyone helping himself to a beer was required to make an entry in the register kept on the bar. Regrettably, we still had to contribute in the month end to make good loses.

Brahmaputra was better known as 'Basinputra'. Training ships normally go on foreign cruises, so as to give exposure to the young trainees. But Basinputra never left the wet basin and we lost a good opportunity of visiting the Southeast Asian and Gulf countries. NHQ[1] then decided that the Midshipmen should get exposure on the Fleet ships. I was sent to INS Talwar and by a quirk of fate, Bollard (who was on Krishna) followed me there. There was a major naval exercise in progress and ships of the Western Fleet sailed out soon after we reported on board. Not surprisingly, the Mids were pressed into action during every single Fleet evolution. We would have a full menu of PT (on a rolling deck) followed by Fleet Gunnery, TAS[2], Communication, Jackstay, Replenishment underway exercises, not forgetting Bridge watches which used to be mixed with some old school communication semaphore and Morse code flashing. It was a heady mix of work, watches and astro-navigation till we crashed into bed like bedraggled foxes in our lairs and blanked out. And the whole process would continue all over again without stopping.

Each Mid was issued a sextant, plotting sheet, astro-sight form book and a chronometer. At every opportunity we had to record the elevation of the sun, moon and stars from the horizon (depending on the time of the day) with our sextants and then get down to a lengthy calculation, involving empirical tables from which one had to interpolate and extrapolate the azimuth of a heavenly body to get a bearing. With a minimum of three bearings one could then obtain a fix and determine the ship's position. All this had to be done within five minutes flat, otherwise the 'cocked hat' would become too large for any 'fix'. The catch is that when the star is available, the horizon isn't and vice versa, except at twilight hours in the early morning and late evening when both are available for about 20 minutes.

Sadly, all this was beyond Bollard's reach. He would first look through the wrong end of the sextant trying his best to sight the star, before someone corrected him. Having figured that out he would then proceed to shoot the star on the horizon behind his back. Having jettisoned any hope of shooting even one star, he would act in a most imperious manner by pretending to have all the requisite data for the calculation and look around for a suitable friend to copy the calculation. Occasionally, not wanting to be outdone, the non-metro Bollard would put on an accent to sound very metro "Heyy Babyy, want GPL?" (GPL = Gaand pe laath), when someone wouldn't co-operate. All this in the middle of your calculation, when you're about to hit pay dirt and get a fix.  He also freaked out on another acronym ‘KLPD’ (Go figure!)

INS Talwar was an ex-Leopard class ship of the Royal Navy. It had a crow's nest, which was used by the lookout for early warning of icebergs and submarine periscopes. The ExO[3] of the ship would frequently send us up there as punishment for a couple of hours. The crow's nest was tucked away on the highest point of the ship's main mast and was not designed for the faint hearted. It had a sound-powered telephone and an eponymous voice pipe for the lookout to report contacts to the Bridge. In the windy confines of the crow's nest one often felt like taking a leak every half an hour. For this we began using the voice pipe to relieve ourselves - little realising that the other end of the pipe went to the Bridge or Captain's cabin. It was only when the Captain asked emphatically "Is anyone piddling on the Bridge?" and looked at the Mids, that we realised our folly. The Mids were smart enough to look dumb and began sniffing around pretending complete innocence.

After about a month we were back on our Training ship. Brahmaputra did make two very short voyages from Cochin to Mangalore, Goa and Tuticorin. Some enterprising Mids put up a skit impersonating the officers on board and one very talented Midshipman almost got relegated for impersonating the Signal Communication Officer with his 'Fiss-on-a-diss' (Fish on a Dish) remark - a repeat of the classroom episode in NDA when he was impersonating the Chemistry Teacher without realising that the Teacher had already entered the class and had taken a back seat. Providence saved him on both occasions.

We sailed into Goa a day before the carnival and were all excited about going to see what the fuss was all about. But as luck would have it, our shore leave was cancelled and we had to stay put on the ship for the entire three days. As a punishment they made us lower the Whalers[4] and practice sailing. Once in the water and on our own, I quickly took charge and steered course from Vasco Harbour to Miramar on the other cove. A bunch of about 15 young sailors descended into my Uncle's home most unexpectedly and were treated to some excellent Goan seafood and homemade Urraq and Feni[5]. Having filled our bellies and a bottle each for the return voyage, both the Whalers made their way back to the ship. We were unaware that during our absence, all hell was breaking loose on-board. They had almost launched a SAR mission for the missing Mids. But the punishment that followed was well worth the drinking carnival that we had at Miramar.

In an earlier narrative I had described how the Mids had binged on a dangerous combination of beer, rum, gin, vodka and heaven knows what. That happened when Brahmaputra visited Tuticorin harbour.

The short but bitter-sweet stay on Brahmaputra left me with enough memories to last a lifetime. Most of us were only 20 years old and needed some kind of guidance and direction. Many a time we were clumped on our heads by our Divisional Officers telling us what to do, but we went on NOT doing whatever it was they had told us to do. But what's a Midshipman, without the mischief? The six months spent on board soon came to an end and when it came to shipping our first half-stripe, all hands on deck were ready for the call.

---

[1] NHQ: Naval Headquarters, New Delhi.

[2] TAS: Torpedo and Anti-Submarine. This branch of the Navy later changed its name to Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW).

[3] ExO: The Executive Officer of the ship, who is also the 2^nd in Command.

[4] Whalers: These are very sturdy wooden boats which have sails and oars and can carry almost 15 men.

[5] Urraq and Feni are two local alcoholic beverages made from cashew or coconut extract.