I counted sixteen Admirals, retired and serving, in the audience that had filled the auditorium. They had all come at the annual seminar of the Indian Maritime Foundation (IMF) including a retired Air Chief and a serving Lt General.
The most remarkable person I met in the gathering was Geeta Vir, wife of the chairman of IMF. This 75 year old lady had spent more than 50 years married to the Navy first and then the merchant navy. She stood by her husband in the Navy. Later when he became a Master in commercial shipping she sailed with him for ten years. She had a lot of anecdotes to tell of her experience at sea. Like crossing the Pacific in a storm, entering far-flung ports, dealing with various situations that only a mariner faces. Right now she was running around organizing the whole show. She had the energy and alertness that would put people half her age to shame.
Though it was ten years since I left the Navy I knew most of the senior officers present there. This was an impressive attendance. I felt a little nervous to face the audience and speak on my subject – Electronic Charts.
In my younger days I had known many of these admirals as high and mighty personalities. Whatever they spoke was taken as pearls of wisdom. On this day too they were hogging the mike. Each of them giving their considered opinion. Except that they seemed out of sorts and quite out of touch with the ground reality. Mostly they were harping on their past glories..
“When I was commanding this (or heading that) etc. etc…..”
It was disappointing to see the once powerful men reduced to such a stature.
My paper was well received. Both the contents and delivery were appreciated. At tea-time many came over to congratulate and talk about the subject. I realized my previous naval rank didn’t matter. Just having the knowledge mattered.
Are there any lessons here? I have listed out three.
Lesson 1.
Stick to your strengths and prepare like hell. If you hone your knowledge continuously and remain abreast with the latest developments in your field you cannot go wrong.
Lesson 2.
Appointments and positions may all go away with time. Ultimately it is your personal skills that carry the day. Knowledge, power of communication, pleasant demeanor, physical fitness, mental alertness and such qualities will always stand by you.
Lesson 3.
Professional life is one aspect. Family and social life is another. You have to have a balance, so that one doesn’t suffer because of the other. Imagine the plight of a career-obsessed person who has neglected his family to reach the top. After he retires, which he must, he finds he doesn’t have either family or career.
These lessons are nothing new. We come across them in different forms at different times in our life. Once in a while they have to be re-affirmed.
As they say – “Live Your Values”.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Loneliness of a Mariner
In my younger days, when I was in the Navy, I tried to behave as a gallant officer should. I was always on the lookout for rendering chivalrous services, especially for a hapless damsel or for pretty young things.
Consider this passage:
“..what is a gentleman ? I’ll answer it now: a Royal Naval officer is, in a general sort of way, though, of course, there may be a black sheep among them here and there. I fancy it is just the wide sea and the breath of God’s winds that washes their hearts and blows the bitterness out of their minds and makes them what men ought to be.”
It was written by H. Rider Haggard in King Solomon’s Mines in 1886! He had beautifully captured the underlying character of a navy man a hundred and twenty five years back.
The other day my wife, Sumita beckoned me to the computer.
“Have a look at this.”
I was in for a pleasant surprise. Ryan Skinner, a media fellow whom I had met at Norway had some handsome comments on my writing. He called my blog ‘limpid’. After chatting with me he had deduced that many mariners wrote well because they were lonely at sea.
Ryan had helpfully depicted a serene picture of an anchorage showing a number of vessels in the background. All of them uniformly facing towards the port. The focus was on a lone cargo ship forlornly waiting under the grey skies.
I could imagine there was a lonely second mate doing his 12 to 4 watch on the bridge. We have a private joke amongst Indian watchkeepers. It goes like this –
Who do you generally find moving around in the night?
A Whore, Chôr and 12 to 4.
Chôr, which rhymes with whore, means a thief in Hindi.
Basically it is a mild dig on the second mate who does a 12 to 4 watch for his entire tenure of 6 to 9 months in the ship.
I remember when our ship entered the port I would explore the new place. It was best done jogging on my two feet. It used to give me a lot of pleasure to watch the citizens going about their daily work. I would look at the parents escorting their children to the school. Or a housewife engrossed in buying vegetables, carefully choosing the freshest of the lot which would go on their dinner table later in the day.
I would pass through quiet residential areas, looking safe and secure, and wonder about the people who lived there.
Was I lonely? Yes. Actually I used to consider myself more in the mould of “loneliness of a long-distance runner”. And transformed into a lonely mariner at sea.
Consider this passage:
“..what is a gentleman ? I’ll answer it now: a Royal Naval officer is, in a general sort of way, though, of course, there may be a black sheep among them here and there. I fancy it is just the wide sea and the breath of God’s winds that washes their hearts and blows the bitterness out of their minds and makes them what men ought to be.”
It was written by H. Rider Haggard in King Solomon’s Mines in 1886! He had beautifully captured the underlying character of a navy man a hundred and twenty five years back.
The other day my wife, Sumita beckoned me to the computer.
“Have a look at this.”
I was in for a pleasant surprise. Ryan Skinner, a media fellow whom I had met at Norway had some handsome comments on my writing. He called my blog ‘limpid’. After chatting with me he had deduced that many mariners wrote well because they were lonely at sea.
Ryan had helpfully depicted a serene picture of an anchorage showing a number of vessels in the background. All of them uniformly facing towards the port. The focus was on a lone cargo ship forlornly waiting under the grey skies.
I could imagine there was a lonely second mate doing his 12 to 4 watch on the bridge. We have a private joke amongst Indian watchkeepers. It goes like this –
Who do you generally find moving around in the night?
A Whore, Chôr and 12 to 4.
Chôr, which rhymes with whore, means a thief in Hindi.
Basically it is a mild dig on the second mate who does a 12 to 4 watch for his entire tenure of 6 to 9 months in the ship.
I remember when our ship entered the port I would explore the new place. It was best done jogging on my two feet. It used to give me a lot of pleasure to watch the citizens going about their daily work. I would look at the parents escorting their children to the school. Or a housewife engrossed in buying vegetables, carefully choosing the freshest of the lot which would go on their dinner table later in the day.
I would pass through quiet residential areas, looking safe and secure, and wonder about the people who lived there.
Was I lonely? Yes. Actually I used to consider myself more in the mould of “loneliness of a long-distance runner”. And transformed into a lonely mariner at sea.
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