In 1773 a ship set sail from England to India. As the Suez Canal wasn’t yet built, she had a long passage of ten thousand miles, via the Verde islands off the West Coast of Africa, thence around the Cape of Good Hope to head straight up north-east to Calicut, India.
Navigation was a tricky task those days. No GPS. No Loran or Decca. Though Mr. Harrison had just brought out the chronometer, it hadn’t yet being made a standard accessory on all ships. Without a chronometer to keep accurate time at sea, ascertaining the longitude was grossly imprecise.
After rounding the cape the ship was cruising to the north in the Indian Ocean, waiting to reach the right latitude before altering course eastwards towards the Indian coast. She was in a hurry to make landfall before the monsoon arrived. All of a sudden in the early hours the ship was rudely woken up to the dreadful sound of its running aground onto a reef. She thus became instantly famous by lending her name to the yet uncharted reef in the Laccadive Islands. This reef came to be known as the Byramgore reef.
From the Horsburgh records we know Byramgore was carrying a treasure on board. We still don’t know what kind of treasure it was. But it was important enough for the ship to leave behind two of its crew while the rest left for Calicut on a cutter, two hundred miles to the East. A rescue to recover the men and the treasure, soon thereafter, had to be postponed due to bad weather. The team could only return after two weeks. By then the two men had perished and the attempt to recover the treasure failed because the monsoon had set in.
The next year a fresh attempt was made to recover the treasure. But the wreck was decimated in the monsoon and had disappeared into the deeps. For the next two centuries the world forgot about it.
In 1989 I was on a hydrographic ship as the senior hydrographer under a dynamic captain who had just taken over command. We were tasked to locate the wreck of Byramgore and perhaps recover the unknown treasure. From the records we knew she had iron cannons fitted on board. They were meant to fight against piracy. The Somali pirates were a scourge even in those days.
We reckoned that the iron cannons were most likely to survive the passage of time and expected our sonars to find them.
Dr. S.R.Rao, an eminent marine archaeologist was on board. Rao had gained fame after discovering the undersea city off Dwarka in Gujarat. This was the fabled abode of Lord Krishna in Hindu mythology.
Besides our regular survey equipment which included side scan sonars, we carried naval divers equipped with underwater cameras,
Byramgore reef uncovers only during the low tide. Ground control proved to be a difficult task. We placed a trisponder (microwave ranger) on top of a lighthouse on the islet Bitra Pār, 25 miles away, to obtain one position line. Two more trisponders were rigged up on the Byramgore reef itself on raised poles. The three position lines gave us the required fix. It wasn’t a perfect arrangement but it would meet our need.
We were there for three days. All the four survey boats along with the ship carried out a typically high density survey to search for the wreck. Our team of divers and surveyors went on the reef during high water to physically search for evidences of the wreck. We did find a few interesting artifacts but it was disappointing that we couldn’t find any major remains of the wreck, cannons or treasure.
We noticed a rich colony of submerged corals. There were fishes galore. Away from the destructive human interference the natural fauna thrived.
The undersea terrain of this reef was typical of a coral atoll. It rose straight up from depths of 1000 metres. The gradient of the seabed was extremely steep. Our team analysed that the wreck could had rolled down on this steep gradient deep into the abyss.
Later on our way back to Bombay as I was poring through the echo-rolls and other data in the survey chart-room I got a message from the ward-room.
‘The bar is open.”
Opening the bar at sea was a bit of a surprise. The PMC, short for President of the Mess Committee, was a jolly old fellow and enjoyed his tipple. In the wardroom they were all there – scientists, divers, surveyors, except the Captain who is generally kept out of such gatherings to make the atmosphere informal. So that people can let go of their inhibitions.
Accompanied by loud laughter, the PMC raised a toast to ‘a wreck-less trip’. The term wreck-less was actually aimed towards the Captain who was quite reckless in his approach. I doubt whether his records would pass the safety audit of a commercial management.
Fallout of the Byramgore tragedy was that the region around Laccadive islands came to be perceived as unsafe. Even today the Admiralty manual Ocean Passages of the World recommend ships coming from Dondra head, south of Sri Lanka and bound for the Persian Gulf to first sail north to a point Lat. 13deg N, Long. 73deg E; before striking out westwards to the Strait of Hormuz. Thus bypassing this group of islands.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Living with Stress
“I’ve got some bad news for you.”
Shit! I thought. I was speaking to my best customer on the phone. What could be the bad news? Did I lose some business? I was tense.
“Actually, I should had called you up before”, the marine superintendent continued.
“By the way, thanks for the nice calendar. There is another one you sent for my colleague. It’s here with me. The only thing is that he is no more.”
“No more?” I repeated stupidly.
“Ya. We were in Italy last week. To board a ship out there. He had a massive heart attack. Just 32 years old. Clean habits. Never smoked. Has a wife and a small kid. I don’t know why. He died on the spot.”
Oh God! I knew him well and he was in my select list of customers. At least I didn’t lose any business. I immediately felt remorseful. Here I was getting this horrible piece of news and my brain was still stuck into business.
Shippies have a tough job. There’s too much of stress out there. Even in normal times with the reduced complement there’s too much to do. The extra pay they receive is really not enough to compensate. Recent developments of Somali piracy, criminalization of sea-farers, and now with the recession looming ominously in the horizon; there is a tremendous amount of stress in shipping.
Many years back a second mate who took over the ship’s accounts from me died of a heart attack.He was actually an ex Radio Officer who had switched over to deck duties.
In the STCW 95 days the IMO had permitted reduced safe-manning standards. In the process they had done away with ROs. The rationale was that the Master and Second Mate could perform those duties in addition to their own. The existing ROs had two options – either to fade away or change their jobs. This particular RO, like many others, studied for competency exams and transitioned into the deck stream.
I didn’t know him too well. Except that I had handed over the pay roll accounts to him. As I was signing off from the tanker he gave me an envelope containing, I think, a letter and USD 500.
“Please give it to my wife.”
I didn’t give him any receipt. It was unlikely that I would ever meet him again. Simply trust. That the packet will reach safely to his wife at Mumbai.
In the weeks that followed I was busy with yet another bunch of maritime courses. I met his wife at the main VT station. In the busy public place we spoke about the ship and I handed over the envelope to her. Then we each went away pursuing our own priorities in life. I had forgotten about the whole thing. Till one day I got a call from the panic-stricken wife.
“He’s no more.”
“Who? What happened?” I asked.
“This is Gloria here. My husband died yesterday. The company called up.
Oh God!
“Give me your address. We’ll be there.”
Later in the afternoon my wife and I found ourselves in an old part of Bandra. There was a quaint building. There were two kids playing in the tiny yard in front of the house.
This cannot be the place. I thought to myself. The place doesn’t seem as if a disaster has just occurred in the family.
But it was the right place. Mom had not been able to break the terrible news to the kids.
We remained in touch for some time. It took a few months for the compensation to come. The company was extremely cordial about it. Unlike some other shipping companies who are uncaring and unapproachable. And who give a bad name to the entire industry. As such most mariners work on contracts. We do not have the employee-owner relationship in the true sense.
I called Gloria up that Christmas. And then for another year. But, as it happens in life, I have lost touch with them.
Shit! I thought. I was speaking to my best customer on the phone. What could be the bad news? Did I lose some business? I was tense.
“Actually, I should had called you up before”, the marine superintendent continued.
“By the way, thanks for the nice calendar. There is another one you sent for my colleague. It’s here with me. The only thing is that he is no more.”
“No more?” I repeated stupidly.
“Ya. We were in Italy last week. To board a ship out there. He had a massive heart attack. Just 32 years old. Clean habits. Never smoked. Has a wife and a small kid. I don’t know why. He died on the spot.”
Oh God! I knew him well and he was in my select list of customers. At least I didn’t lose any business. I immediately felt remorseful. Here I was getting this horrible piece of news and my brain was still stuck into business.
Shippies have a tough job. There’s too much of stress out there. Even in normal times with the reduced complement there’s too much to do. The extra pay they receive is really not enough to compensate. Recent developments of Somali piracy, criminalization of sea-farers, and now with the recession looming ominously in the horizon; there is a tremendous amount of stress in shipping.
Many years back a second mate who took over the ship’s accounts from me died of a heart attack.He was actually an ex Radio Officer who had switched over to deck duties.
In the STCW 95 days the IMO had permitted reduced safe-manning standards. In the process they had done away with ROs. The rationale was that the Master and Second Mate could perform those duties in addition to their own. The existing ROs had two options – either to fade away or change their jobs. This particular RO, like many others, studied for competency exams and transitioned into the deck stream.
I didn’t know him too well. Except that I had handed over the pay roll accounts to him. As I was signing off from the tanker he gave me an envelope containing, I think, a letter and USD 500.
“Please give it to my wife.”
I didn’t give him any receipt. It was unlikely that I would ever meet him again. Simply trust. That the packet will reach safely to his wife at Mumbai.
In the weeks that followed I was busy with yet another bunch of maritime courses. I met his wife at the main VT station. In the busy public place we spoke about the ship and I handed over the envelope to her. Then we each went away pursuing our own priorities in life. I had forgotten about the whole thing. Till one day I got a call from the panic-stricken wife.
“He’s no more.”
“Who? What happened?” I asked.
“This is Gloria here. My husband died yesterday. The company called up.
Oh God!
“Give me your address. We’ll be there.”
Later in the afternoon my wife and I found ourselves in an old part of Bandra. There was a quaint building. There were two kids playing in the tiny yard in front of the house.
This cannot be the place. I thought to myself. The place doesn’t seem as if a disaster has just occurred in the family.
But it was the right place. Mom had not been able to break the terrible news to the kids.
We remained in touch for some time. It took a few months for the compensation to come. The company was extremely cordial about it. Unlike some other shipping companies who are uncaring and unapproachable. And who give a bad name to the entire industry. As such most mariners work on contracts. We do not have the employee-owner relationship in the true sense.
I called Gloria up that Christmas. And then for another year. But, as it happens in life, I have lost touch with them.
Friday, April 24, 2009
End of a Season
The summer is on its last legs. Strong pre-monsoonal winds have started, strong enough to prevent boat-sounding. My son has reached Australia for a month’s holiday and is as good as flown the coop. The note-book that I am writing upon is almost over.
I feel as if a season has ended and I’m stepping into a new one. I feel like making some new resolutions. Talking about resolutions why can’t we be a little more honest about it? Let’s see - in the next one year I would like to:
- become filthy rich by hook or by crook
- develop a poison pen and write a spicy little book
- lose 10 kg and sport a charming lady-killer smile
- bed that luscious thing next door who is bent upon, literally, to attract attention
Keep dreaming man!
Our survey season is almost over. Now we have to plan to tide over the monsoons. If there is one thing I am scared of it is the weather, or rather the bad weather. Nothing in this world makes a man more god-fearing than to witness nature in all its fury.
I have personally experienced two storms on the high seas. The first time it was in 1990 when a particularly severe cyclone emerged in the Bay of Bengal and crossed the East Coast of India south of Visakhapatnam. This super-cyclone had two eyes. The second one was in 2000 when our ageing Bulk Carrier rode out a Force 9 gale in China Sea.
In May 1990 I was on a hydrographic vessel when we sailed out from Vizag for the survey grounds. We entered Madras to pick up men and material. That is where we learnt on the TV that a cyclone was brewing at sea. Weather forecasting was primitive. As the cyclone was expected to pass right over our port we were asked to leave the endangered harbour and ride out the storm at sea.
The moment our ship crossed the breakwater into the open sea we faced mountainous waves and gale-winds. As we put distance between us and the coast the seas became worse. We applied the Buys Ballot Law - Face the wind, 10 to 12 points on the starboard is the eye of the storm. In the northern hemisphere, that is. We figured out that our vessel was in the dangerous semi-circle, but we couldn’t do much thereafter. The wheel got stuck in a particular position and the vessel’s speed dropped from 15 to 2 knots due to the wind and sea.
The sea state was phenomenal. I don't remember getting any help from the weather messages. In fact it was the other way round. The ship was passing weather parameters to shore authorities. The next four days were the worst in my life. The waves became higher and higher, sea water started dripping through every pore in the ship. The engines stalled due to loss of suction. The main switchboard caught fire due to short-circuit. We were forced to adopt the ‘do-nothing’ theory in which the vessel shuts off the engines and allows free play of the waves and the winds. I guess this is what saved us ultimately.
In that storm we lost all the four boats. The radar flew off. We suffered a lot of damages and barely managed to escape with our lives. I became very religious after this event.
The second time I encountered bad weather, I was a little wiser but still helpless in the storm. The speed of a vessel in bad weather drops drastically and any action you take seems futile. This time we got better weather messages but to us it still seemed as if we were getting yesterday's weather. Our old ship developed some leakages. We were fortunate to steer the ship safely out and bring her into the port.
I feel as if a season has ended and I’m stepping into a new one. I feel like making some new resolutions. Talking about resolutions why can’t we be a little more honest about it? Let’s see - in the next one year I would like to:
- become filthy rich by hook or by crook
- develop a poison pen and write a spicy little book
- lose 10 kg and sport a charming lady-killer smile
- bed that luscious thing next door who is bent upon, literally, to attract attention
Keep dreaming man!
Our survey season is almost over. Now we have to plan to tide over the monsoons. If there is one thing I am scared of it is the weather, or rather the bad weather. Nothing in this world makes a man more god-fearing than to witness nature in all its fury.
I have personally experienced two storms on the high seas. The first time it was in 1990 when a particularly severe cyclone emerged in the Bay of Bengal and crossed the East Coast of India south of Visakhapatnam. This super-cyclone had two eyes. The second one was in 2000 when our ageing Bulk Carrier rode out a Force 9 gale in China Sea.
In May 1990 I was on a hydrographic vessel when we sailed out from Vizag for the survey grounds. We entered Madras to pick up men and material. That is where we learnt on the TV that a cyclone was brewing at sea. Weather forecasting was primitive. As the cyclone was expected to pass right over our port we were asked to leave the endangered harbour and ride out the storm at sea.
The moment our ship crossed the breakwater into the open sea we faced mountainous waves and gale-winds. As we put distance between us and the coast the seas became worse. We applied the Buys Ballot Law - Face the wind, 10 to 12 points on the starboard is the eye of the storm. In the northern hemisphere, that is. We figured out that our vessel was in the dangerous semi-circle, but we couldn’t do much thereafter. The wheel got stuck in a particular position and the vessel’s speed dropped from 15 to 2 knots due to the wind and sea.
The sea state was phenomenal. I don't remember getting any help from the weather messages. In fact it was the other way round. The ship was passing weather parameters to shore authorities. The next four days were the worst in my life. The waves became higher and higher, sea water started dripping through every pore in the ship. The engines stalled due to loss of suction. The main switchboard caught fire due to short-circuit. We were forced to adopt the ‘do-nothing’ theory in which the vessel shuts off the engines and allows free play of the waves and the winds. I guess this is what saved us ultimately.
In that storm we lost all the four boats. The radar flew off. We suffered a lot of damages and barely managed to escape with our lives. I became very religious after this event.
The second time I encountered bad weather, I was a little wiser but still helpless in the storm. The speed of a vessel in bad weather drops drastically and any action you take seems futile. This time we got better weather messages but to us it still seemed as if we were getting yesterday's weather. Our old ship developed some leakages. We were fortunate to steer the ship safely out and bring her into the port.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Keeping the Charts Up-to-Date
As a navigating officer one of my main tasks was to correct the charts. I was guided by the Admiralty publication NP 294 How to Correct Your Charts the Admiralty Way.
My tools consisted of a parallel ruler, divider and a set of plastic protractor and scale. I had a hack-saw blade to draw zigzag lines on the chart representing submarine cables.
The chart corrections came in the form of Notices to Mariners (NtMs). Ntms have evolved from the time ships started sailing with paper charts. In the early years a mariner depended on important navigational information passed by word of mouth amongst fellow mariners.
At some point of time, probably a hundred years back some Hydrographic Offices (HOs) started collating this information. They verified the information before distributing them to the ships through print. This lent an authenticity to the information.
Since then NtMs have become an integral part of charts and publications required to be maintained on board for safety of navigation.
I remember, whenever we entered a port after a long voyage, there would invariably be a stack of four to five weeks worth of NtM packs waiting for me.
Most times the ship would anchor off some big port and would remain there for days till we got an available berth alongside. The anchorage is the best time to correct the charts. I would spend many hours bent over a chart table to clear the backlog. There was a time when I used croquils dipped in black or magenta indelible inks. Later I used Pilot Hi-tech 0.5mm pens. One could practice draughtsman ship with these pens. I would painstakingly draw the figures and shapes from INT1 on the charts.
Once in a while I would look up and watch the enticing skyline of Singapore from the bridge windows. Or look around our anchored ship to find a pleasure boat drifting past rocked by an amorous couple in it. The thought would cross my mind that perhaps I had missed out on life imprisoned in a ship with nothing to do except correct charts whilst the rest of the world enjoyed.
Manual updating of charts is a very tedious and monotonous job. Now with electronic charts on the verge of replacing paper charts, the need for manual updating is going to disappear for ever. This tedious job will be taken over by the machines. A task which used to take many hours can now be completed within a few minutes with the click of a button.
Automatic updating is not only a great time-saver but has also removed a major source of human error. They tell us that eighty percent of all errors are caused due to the human factor.
How often do marine incidents happen because of uncorrected charts? A difficult question to answer; but one can trawl through various sites on the net which lists marine accidents and get an idea. There are a host of sites such as IMO's GISIS database, MAIB and BSU. Or one can commission mac@maritimeaccident.org to do the research.
There is an interesting site called ‘Centre for Tankship Excellence’ created by a naval architect, Jack Devanney. As a tankerman he felt ‘the oil tanker industry had lost its way’. And so he must do something about it.
Here there is a database of tanker casualties that is openly available to the public. We can list tanker incidents caused due to navigation errors specifically due to bad charts as a result of the ship’s fault. It means either the ship did not update the charts or were not carrying the appropriate charts.
Incidents such as Globtik Sun and Sanko Harvest were caused due to uncorrected charts. If we go by the philosophy of the accident pyramid, then for every reported incident there are a hundred more which went unreported.
With automatic updates the Master gets the corrections when he wants. For example just before entering a harbour or transiting through a narrow channel. One doesn’t have to wait for the physical arrival of the NtM packs by post.
In this age of reduced manning on commercial ships automatic updating helps the Master to regain the services of the second mate for other equally important tasks required to run the ship.
My tools consisted of a parallel ruler, divider and a set of plastic protractor and scale. I had a hack-saw blade to draw zigzag lines on the chart representing submarine cables.
The chart corrections came in the form of Notices to Mariners (NtMs). Ntms have evolved from the time ships started sailing with paper charts. In the early years a mariner depended on important navigational information passed by word of mouth amongst fellow mariners.
At some point of time, probably a hundred years back some Hydrographic Offices (HOs) started collating this information. They verified the information before distributing them to the ships through print. This lent an authenticity to the information.
Since then NtMs have become an integral part of charts and publications required to be maintained on board for safety of navigation.
I remember, whenever we entered a port after a long voyage, there would invariably be a stack of four to five weeks worth of NtM packs waiting for me.
Most times the ship would anchor off some big port and would remain there for days till we got an available berth alongside. The anchorage is the best time to correct the charts. I would spend many hours bent over a chart table to clear the backlog. There was a time when I used croquils dipped in black or magenta indelible inks. Later I used Pilot Hi-tech 0.5mm pens. One could practice draughtsman ship with these pens. I would painstakingly draw the figures and shapes from INT1 on the charts.
Once in a while I would look up and watch the enticing skyline of Singapore from the bridge windows. Or look around our anchored ship to find a pleasure boat drifting past rocked by an amorous couple in it. The thought would cross my mind that perhaps I had missed out on life imprisoned in a ship with nothing to do except correct charts whilst the rest of the world enjoyed.
Manual updating of charts is a very tedious and monotonous job. Now with electronic charts on the verge of replacing paper charts, the need for manual updating is going to disappear for ever. This tedious job will be taken over by the machines. A task which used to take many hours can now be completed within a few minutes with the click of a button.
Automatic updating is not only a great time-saver but has also removed a major source of human error. They tell us that eighty percent of all errors are caused due to the human factor.
How often do marine incidents happen because of uncorrected charts? A difficult question to answer; but one can trawl through various sites on the net which lists marine accidents and get an idea. There are a host of sites such as IMO's GISIS database, MAIB and BSU. Or one can commission mac@maritimeaccident.org to do the research.
There is an interesting site called ‘Centre for Tankship Excellence’ created by a naval architect, Jack Devanney. As a tankerman he felt ‘the oil tanker industry had lost its way’. And so he must do something about it.
Here there is a database of tanker casualties that is openly available to the public. We can list tanker incidents caused due to navigation errors specifically due to bad charts as a result of the ship’s fault. It means either the ship did not update the charts or were not carrying the appropriate charts.
Incidents such as Globtik Sun and Sanko Harvest were caused due to uncorrected charts. If we go by the philosophy of the accident pyramid, then for every reported incident there are a hundred more which went unreported.
With automatic updates the Master gets the corrections when he wants. For example just before entering a harbour or transiting through a narrow channel. One doesn’t have to wait for the physical arrival of the NtM packs by post.
In this age of reduced manning on commercial ships automatic updating helps the Master to regain the services of the second mate for other equally important tasks required to run the ship.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Predicting The Future of Charts
Trying to predict the future is difficult depending on what you are trying to predict.
There are things which only experts in that field can predict with accuracy. There are people in the know – the insiders, who can predict what’s going to happen because they are privy to information which is not available to others.
Of course, there are a few certainties in life. For example it’s certain that in future you will become older.
A few near certainties. Example a particular tree will grow taller after a certain time.
But there are some other predictions which are tricky. The extent of development in technology and how our lives will be affected by it is one example which comes to my mind readily.
For quite some time now I have been preparing a paper on ‘Navigation Charts of the Future’. The future here is mostly technology related.
For last so many decades the appearance of a chart has remained almost unchanged. Of course its content was regularly being refurbished based on the new data that was being collected. Ironically, technical advances in this field were being used so as to ensure that the collected data was displayed in the same old fashion as it had been for so long. To give to the mariners the image of a chart they had got used to.
Old tars don’t like to change. They cling to their old-fashioned views and guard all attempts to change with time. No wonder the age-old sea customs, ceremonies and other quirks continue to remain for centuries.
And so, the paper chart which the old chart-makers had foisted on us centuries back remains with us even today.
Ten years from now – will this paper chart continue to remain? Here I am willing to stick my neck out and confidently say – No!
After all the IMO has already announced the ECDIS to be made mandatory on SOLAS ships. Starting from 2012 the implementation will commence and will cover all types of ships by 2018. It will finally push the paper chart into oblivion. To become an artifact displayed in the maritime museum as something which lasted almost forever.
But why is it taking so long to replace the paper charts? Five to ten years from today in this fast changing world is almost a generation away.
It is because the authorities have twisted the regulations in such a way that the replacement of paper charts can be only the official Electronic Navigation Charts ENCs in the S-57 format. ENCs are not favoured by most ship-operators for reasons such as faulty design and high cost.
Regulations insist that ENCs must be issued under the authority of a government. Which government?
Sovereign nations that have been vested with the responsibility of charting their own waters. There are around hundred odd nations in the world which fall in this category. Most of them are well… governments. Not competitive. Not sensitive to the end-user. And not commercially inclined. They have their advantages though. The purity of data collections is not compromised due to commercial compulsions. But a government does not like to change along with technology.
Trying to predict what will happen to the charts of commercial shipping is easy because they come under the IMO-SOLAS regime. The difficult part is trying to predict the future of non-SOLAS class vessels. They are the ones which are driven purely by market forces. The growth of technology here is about to explode.
Here I will quote the futurist Ray Kurzweil. In his book ‘The Singularity is Near’ he mentions that the pace of change of our human created technology is accelerating and its powers are expanding at an exponential pace. Exponential pace is deceptive. It starts out almost imperceptibly and then explodes with unexpected fury.
One of the startling predictions that Ray has made is that due to advances in nanotechnology we will soon be able to produce solar panels which will give us substantial amount of energy from the sun itself.
Imagine what will happen to the portable charting systems. Its size and weight will reduce drastically. Hence the power required to run these systems will reduce. On the other hand the computing power will progressively increase. In the next five years yachters will most likely carry an e-chart folded in the pocket; run on powerful portable solar cells. Satellite positions will be available on the mobile. They will have millimetric accuracy when they are in the range of mobile towers equipped with GPS sensors. Once on board the yachter will proceed to unfold the e-chart and tack it onto a convenient bulkhead. Wireless interfaces with the mobile and with other sensors like AIS and ARPA fitted in the vessel will provide all necessary data.
Voila! A full-fledged charting system is now available at his/hers disposal.
There are things which only experts in that field can predict with accuracy. There are people in the know – the insiders, who can predict what’s going to happen because they are privy to information which is not available to others.
Of course, there are a few certainties in life. For example it’s certain that in future you will become older.
A few near certainties. Example a particular tree will grow taller after a certain time.
But there are some other predictions which are tricky. The extent of development in technology and how our lives will be affected by it is one example which comes to my mind readily.
For quite some time now I have been preparing a paper on ‘Navigation Charts of the Future’. The future here is mostly technology related.
For last so many decades the appearance of a chart has remained almost unchanged. Of course its content was regularly being refurbished based on the new data that was being collected. Ironically, technical advances in this field were being used so as to ensure that the collected data was displayed in the same old fashion as it had been for so long. To give to the mariners the image of a chart they had got used to.
Old tars don’t like to change. They cling to their old-fashioned views and guard all attempts to change with time. No wonder the age-old sea customs, ceremonies and other quirks continue to remain for centuries.
And so, the paper chart which the old chart-makers had foisted on us centuries back remains with us even today.
Ten years from now – will this paper chart continue to remain? Here I am willing to stick my neck out and confidently say – No!
After all the IMO has already announced the ECDIS to be made mandatory on SOLAS ships. Starting from 2012 the implementation will commence and will cover all types of ships by 2018. It will finally push the paper chart into oblivion. To become an artifact displayed in the maritime museum as something which lasted almost forever.
But why is it taking so long to replace the paper charts? Five to ten years from today in this fast changing world is almost a generation away.
It is because the authorities have twisted the regulations in such a way that the replacement of paper charts can be only the official Electronic Navigation Charts ENCs in the S-57 format. ENCs are not favoured by most ship-operators for reasons such as faulty design and high cost.
Regulations insist that ENCs must be issued under the authority of a government. Which government?
Sovereign nations that have been vested with the responsibility of charting their own waters. There are around hundred odd nations in the world which fall in this category. Most of them are well… governments. Not competitive. Not sensitive to the end-user. And not commercially inclined. They have their advantages though. The purity of data collections is not compromised due to commercial compulsions. But a government does not like to change along with technology.
Trying to predict what will happen to the charts of commercial shipping is easy because they come under the IMO-SOLAS regime. The difficult part is trying to predict the future of non-SOLAS class vessels. They are the ones which are driven purely by market forces. The growth of technology here is about to explode.
Here I will quote the futurist Ray Kurzweil. In his book ‘The Singularity is Near’ he mentions that the pace of change of our human created technology is accelerating and its powers are expanding at an exponential pace. Exponential pace is deceptive. It starts out almost imperceptibly and then explodes with unexpected fury.
One of the startling predictions that Ray has made is that due to advances in nanotechnology we will soon be able to produce solar panels which will give us substantial amount of energy from the sun itself.
Imagine what will happen to the portable charting systems. Its size and weight will reduce drastically. Hence the power required to run these systems will reduce. On the other hand the computing power will progressively increase. In the next five years yachters will most likely carry an e-chart folded in the pocket; run on powerful portable solar cells. Satellite positions will be available on the mobile. They will have millimetric accuracy when they are in the range of mobile towers equipped with GPS sensors. Once on board the yachter will proceed to unfold the e-chart and tack it onto a convenient bulkhead. Wireless interfaces with the mobile and with other sensors like AIS and ARPA fitted in the vessel will provide all necessary data.
Voila! A full-fledged charting system is now available at his/hers disposal.
Monday, September 1, 2008
James Horsburgh
In the 18th century, a trading ship was on a passage in the Bay of Bengal. There were 250 people on board the sailing ship. The sea through which they traversed was mostly uncharted. The ship unfortunately strayed many miles from her path and was wrecked on a remote islet in the middle of the Indian Ocean. The story might have ended there, but for one of the survivors James Horsburgh it had just begun. He resolved to dedicate his life ‘making accurate charts’. It was a promise which he kept for the next fifty years. He did not seek glory but was lucky. The emerging empires of that era needed people like him.
http://www.hydro-international.com/issues/articles/id960-James_Horsburgh.html
In May 1786, an East IndiaCompany (EIC) ship Atlas was on a passage from Batavia (present day Djakarta) to Ceylon (Sri Lanka), a distance of 1868 miles to the northwest. James Horsburgh was on the vessel as a recently promoted first mate.
Navigation was a difficult task in those days. Still, it is hard to believe that the ship had drifted more than one thousand miles from its path to the Chagos Archipelago on the West. Navigators used the imprecise lunar method to determine longitude. Chronometers had not yet become a standard accessory on ships.
With the onset of monsoon, perhaps the ship did not have clear skies for astro-navigation. Another important factor which could have aggravated the ship’s navigation was the effect of monsoon currents and wind. From May to September, the easterly currents in the Bay of Bengal change to southwesterly, attaining a peak of 3 knots. A westerly current coupled with strong following winds speedily carried the ship across the sea. It was wrecked upon Diego Garcia, an islet named by early Portuguese sailors located at 7°23’ S, 72°30’ E. This point is now known to the world as the Horsburgh point.
Horsburgh later wrote:
’The charts on board were very erroneous in the delineation of the Chagos Islands and Banks, and the commander, trusting too much to dead reckoning, was steering with confidence to make the non-existent Adu or Candu for a new departure, being their longitude nearby, by account, and bound for Ceylon; but, unfortunately a cloud over Diego Garcia prevented the helmsman from discerning it, (the officer of the watch being asleep), till we were on the reef close to the shore. The masts, rudder, and everything above the deck went with the first surge; the second lifted the vessel over the outer rocks and threw her in towards the beach.’?
The survivors of Atlas were fortunate to find a British settlement there. They lived on meagre supplies for the next 6 months until they were picked up by a British ship and brought back to mainland.
The shipwreck of Atlas was a momentous event for Horsburgh. He saw the necessity for accurate charts of the Indian Ocean. He resolved to devote himself to this task, by making and recording nautical observations. This resolution was put into practice from that day, and he began to accumulate a store of nautical knowledge that served as the materials of his future productions in hydrography.
Early Life
James Horsburgh was born into a humble Scottish family in 1762. He was destined to follow Dalrymple and James Cook, the two other Scottish hydrographers who had achieved eminence before him. From the beginning, he was prepared and educated for a sea-faring life. Aged 16, having acquired some knowledge of mathematics, navigation and book-keeping, he joined a coal trading ship as a cabin-boy.
In 1780 he was captured by the French and incarcerated at Dunkirk. After his release, he went back to sea – first to the West Indies and then to India. Calcutta was the seat of power for the British Empire at that time, and was the hub port from where ships used to trade to the Far East. There was a flourishing opium trade between India and China, passing through Calcutta.
Horsburgh was employed in the ships trading between India and the neighbouring islands of East Indies. With his skill and contacts, he soon became a first mate. He might have continued as a skilful and enterprising sailor if the disaster at Diego Garcia had not happened. This incident, however, aroused his ambition and the world was fortunate to have the services of a dedicated hydrographer.
Western Europe at that time was on a quest for explorations and scientific research. The fourth model of Harrison’s chronometer had just come out. James Cook used it successfully for his expeditions to the South Pacific. Cook was killed in his third expedition to the Pacific Ocean in 1779, seven years before the Diego Garcia shipwreck.
In 1787, William Bligh sailed from England on theBountyfor a scientific expedition to the South Pacific. Other European empires were expanding and the world needed bold hydrographers to produce accurate charts of the new lands being discovered.
For several years, Horsburgh sailed between India and China. Throughout his travels, he took meticulous notes and observations. He learnt drawing and etching on the job. He constructed three charts around this time: the Strait of Macassar, the west side of the Philippine Islands and the tract from Dampier Strait through Pitt’s Passage towards Batavia. Practical sailing directions accompanied each of these. Dalrymple, the hydrographer to the EIC, published his work.
Horsburgh had a scientific mind. For two years from 1802 to 1804 he kept a meticulous record of the rise and fall of the mercury taken from two marine barometers. He found that while it regularly ebbed and flowed twice during the 24 hours in the open sea between 26°N and 26°S, it was diminished and sometimes wholly obstructed in rivers, harbours and straits (due to the proximity of the land). This important discovery was published by England’s Royal Society, of which he later became a fellow.
Hydrographic Works
Horsburgh’s greatest work which made him famous is the celebrated Directory (the original title was Directions for Sailing to and from the East Indies, China, New Holland, Cape of Good Hope, and the Interjacent Ports). It was compiled from original journals and observations made during 21 years of experience in navigating those seas.
It is interesting to note that this compilation was published by Horsburgh using his own funds. HisDirectorywas the standard work for oriental navigation for the next 50 years, until Robert Moresby’s work was published in the 19th century.
It was only after this publication that Horsburgh was acknowledged as an expert in this field. The decades of perseverance and years of toiling under the hot tropical sun had paid off. After Dalrymple died, Horsburgh was appointed as the Hydrographer to EIC in 1810. He remained in this post for 26 years until his death, dedicating himself fully to the field that he had chosen.
In a letter to the explorer Captain Matthew Flinders on 10 Nov 1812, Horsburgh wrote: `Should you pass the India House at any time, I shall be happy to see you, where I am daily to be found in the Map-room until 2 P.M.’
Apart from re-publishing the charts of his predecessors, Horsburgh published 15 new charts of Indian waters. Whereas Dalrymple was prolific in publishing all charts that came his way, Horsburgh carefully examined the data before publishing the chart. Some of his outstanding works were the charts of Bombay Harbour published in two sheets in 1830 and the general sea charts of the Bay of Bengal, Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean. The details that he provided were sufficient for the master of a vessel to safely take his ship to its destination. His last labour was the preparation of a new edition of his ‘Directory’ that was first published in 1809.
In a letter to Sir Charles Forbes, he wrote `I would have died contented, had it pleased God to allow me to see the book in print.’
Horsburgh was a merchant ship navigator who became a hydrographer. His works had a lot of practical value for the trading community. He was well regarded by the merchants as he had charted map-routes of the eastern seas which proved invaluable to the seafarers of that time.
In 1836 soon after Horsburgh died, a group of British merchants got together in Canton, China. They decided to build a lighthouse as a memorial tribute to him, the funding for which was to be collected from donations. A 109ft tall lighthouse tower with black and white horizontal bands and a white flashing light was erected in 1851 at the eastern entrance to the Malacca Straits.
The Horsburgh Lighthouse, also known as theFirst Pharos of the Eastern SeasorLighthouse for All Nationshas stood like a sentinel for more than 150 years, a fitting remembrance for one of the greatest hydrographers in history.
http://www.hydro-international.com/issues/articles/id960-James_Horsburgh.html
http://www.hydro-international.com/issues/articles/id960-James_Horsburgh.html
In May 1786, an East IndiaCompany (EIC) ship Atlas was on a passage from Batavia (present day Djakarta) to Ceylon (Sri Lanka), a distance of 1868 miles to the northwest. James Horsburgh was on the vessel as a recently promoted first mate.
Navigation was a difficult task in those days. Still, it is hard to believe that the ship had drifted more than one thousand miles from its path to the Chagos Archipelago on the West. Navigators used the imprecise lunar method to determine longitude. Chronometers had not yet become a standard accessory on ships.
With the onset of monsoon, perhaps the ship did not have clear skies for astro-navigation. Another important factor which could have aggravated the ship’s navigation was the effect of monsoon currents and wind. From May to September, the easterly currents in the Bay of Bengal change to southwesterly, attaining a peak of 3 knots. A westerly current coupled with strong following winds speedily carried the ship across the sea. It was wrecked upon Diego Garcia, an islet named by early Portuguese sailors located at 7°23’ S, 72°30’ E. This point is now known to the world as the Horsburgh point.
Horsburgh later wrote:
’The charts on board were very erroneous in the delineation of the Chagos Islands and Banks, and the commander, trusting too much to dead reckoning, was steering with confidence to make the non-existent Adu or Candu for a new departure, being their longitude nearby, by account, and bound for Ceylon; but, unfortunately a cloud over Diego Garcia prevented the helmsman from discerning it, (the officer of the watch being asleep), till we were on the reef close to the shore. The masts, rudder, and everything above the deck went with the first surge; the second lifted the vessel over the outer rocks and threw her in towards the beach.’?
The survivors of Atlas were fortunate to find a British settlement there. They lived on meagre supplies for the next 6 months until they were picked up by a British ship and brought back to mainland.
The shipwreck of Atlas was a momentous event for Horsburgh. He saw the necessity for accurate charts of the Indian Ocean. He resolved to devote himself to this task, by making and recording nautical observations. This resolution was put into practice from that day, and he began to accumulate a store of nautical knowledge that served as the materials of his future productions in hydrography.
Early Life
James Horsburgh was born into a humble Scottish family in 1762. He was destined to follow Dalrymple and James Cook, the two other Scottish hydrographers who had achieved eminence before him. From the beginning, he was prepared and educated for a sea-faring life. Aged 16, having acquired some knowledge of mathematics, navigation and book-keeping, he joined a coal trading ship as a cabin-boy.
In 1780 he was captured by the French and incarcerated at Dunkirk. After his release, he went back to sea – first to the West Indies and then to India. Calcutta was the seat of power for the British Empire at that time, and was the hub port from where ships used to trade to the Far East. There was a flourishing opium trade between India and China, passing through Calcutta.
Horsburgh was employed in the ships trading between India and the neighbouring islands of East Indies. With his skill and contacts, he soon became a first mate. He might have continued as a skilful and enterprising sailor if the disaster at Diego Garcia had not happened. This incident, however, aroused his ambition and the world was fortunate to have the services of a dedicated hydrographer.
Western Europe at that time was on a quest for explorations and scientific research. The fourth model of Harrison’s chronometer had just come out. James Cook used it successfully for his expeditions to the South Pacific. Cook was killed in his third expedition to the Pacific Ocean in 1779, seven years before the Diego Garcia shipwreck.
In 1787, William Bligh sailed from England on theBountyfor a scientific expedition to the South Pacific. Other European empires were expanding and the world needed bold hydrographers to produce accurate charts of the new lands being discovered.
For several years, Horsburgh sailed between India and China. Throughout his travels, he took meticulous notes and observations. He learnt drawing and etching on the job. He constructed three charts around this time: the Strait of Macassar, the west side of the Philippine Islands and the tract from Dampier Strait through Pitt’s Passage towards Batavia. Practical sailing directions accompanied each of these. Dalrymple, the hydrographer to the EIC, published his work.
Horsburgh had a scientific mind. For two years from 1802 to 1804 he kept a meticulous record of the rise and fall of the mercury taken from two marine barometers. He found that while it regularly ebbed and flowed twice during the 24 hours in the open sea between 26°N and 26°S, it was diminished and sometimes wholly obstructed in rivers, harbours and straits (due to the proximity of the land). This important discovery was published by England’s Royal Society, of which he later became a fellow.
Hydrographic Works
Horsburgh’s greatest work which made him famous is the celebrated Directory (the original title was Directions for Sailing to and from the East Indies, China, New Holland, Cape of Good Hope, and the Interjacent Ports). It was compiled from original journals and observations made during 21 years of experience in navigating those seas.
It is interesting to note that this compilation was published by Horsburgh using his own funds. HisDirectorywas the standard work for oriental navigation for the next 50 years, until Robert Moresby’s work was published in the 19th century.
It was only after this publication that Horsburgh was acknowledged as an expert in this field. The decades of perseverance and years of toiling under the hot tropical sun had paid off. After Dalrymple died, Horsburgh was appointed as the Hydrographer to EIC in 1810. He remained in this post for 26 years until his death, dedicating himself fully to the field that he had chosen.
In a letter to the explorer Captain Matthew Flinders on 10 Nov 1812, Horsburgh wrote: `Should you pass the India House at any time, I shall be happy to see you, where I am daily to be found in the Map-room until 2 P.M.’
Apart from re-publishing the charts of his predecessors, Horsburgh published 15 new charts of Indian waters. Whereas Dalrymple was prolific in publishing all charts that came his way, Horsburgh carefully examined the data before publishing the chart. Some of his outstanding works were the charts of Bombay Harbour published in two sheets in 1830 and the general sea charts of the Bay of Bengal, Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean. The details that he provided were sufficient for the master of a vessel to safely take his ship to its destination. His last labour was the preparation of a new edition of his ‘Directory’ that was first published in 1809.
In a letter to Sir Charles Forbes, he wrote `I would have died contented, had it pleased God to allow me to see the book in print.’
Horsburgh was a merchant ship navigator who became a hydrographer. His works had a lot of practical value for the trading community. He was well regarded by the merchants as he had charted map-routes of the eastern seas which proved invaluable to the seafarers of that time.
In 1836 soon after Horsburgh died, a group of British merchants got together in Canton, China. They decided to build a lighthouse as a memorial tribute to him, the funding for which was to be collected from donations. A 109ft tall lighthouse tower with black and white horizontal bands and a white flashing light was erected in 1851 at the eastern entrance to the Malacca Straits.
The Horsburgh Lighthouse, also known as theFirst Pharos of the Eastern SeasorLighthouse for All Nationshas stood like a sentinel for more than 150 years, a fitting remembrance for one of the greatest hydrographers in history.
http://www.hydro-international.com/issues/articles/id960-James_Horsburgh.html
Friday, August 1, 2008
In the Warzone
From the Archives
Five years back I decided to try my hand for a shore job. So, after signing off from the ship I joined the teaching faculty and started teaching at Naval Maritime Academy. I used to travel by local from Nerul to VT. A distance of 49 kms took one hour to cover. This was the first time in my life I was commuting daily by trains. I had graduated, so to say, to become a true Mumbaikar depending on the local trains for my bread and butter.
Those days the Harbour line was not at all crowded as compared to the Western and Central line. I had with me a first class season pass. The crowd in the first class were the office going type and, in the non-peak hours there was enough space to put up our feet on the opposite seats and stretch out comfortably.
My day was a fixed routine and my life revolved around the 06:58 local. From home to the station was a 7-minute walk. Some days if I was running late I hopped in an auto for a quick ride. So….. 06:50 leave home, 06:58 catch the local, 08:01 reach VT. The 1 hour in the train was meant to prepare my lectures and plan out the rest of the day.
On reaching VT I used to cross the subway at a brisk pace and catch the Academy bus leaving at 08:10. The bus zoomed through Cuffe Parade and Colaba where we could see some of the eminent residents returning from the morning work-outs. It was still quite early in the day for the office crowd to throng the roads. At 08:25 I would reach the Academy, grab a cup of tea, before rushing for the first lecture starting at 08:30. The return trip was flexible and depending on the classes could be as early as 01:30 PM. I had lot of time for myself unlike a typical 9 to 5 job.
I came to recognize most of the regulars on the train in that one year. We had a strange camaraderie. I do not remember ever speaking to anyone of them. We used to acknowledge each other by the merest of the smiles and mostly it was by the softening of our facial features. Generally Mumbai local train commuters wear a grim face.
Today I hardly travel by the trains. But I do not miss them. The crowds have become unbearable and the conditions have deteriorated. Back then there was no need to fight for a seat. The rains are more severe today and tracks are flooded very easily. Life in the local trains has become bad. For a second class commuter it is even worse.
When the Western line suffered the serial blasts I felt an immense sadness. As such the commuter has a lot of hardships. He is totally dependent on the smooth running of the train. A slight delay or problem on the way throws his life out of gear. The trains are his lifeline.
There is really no other way to travel for those who stay far from their workplace.
Buses take too long, and the bad roads make long-distance commuting impossible. Similarly daily commuting by car is not practical, even if one could afford the high cost. Day in and day out you have to live through this mindless existence. Nothing can replace the local train – crowds, ramshackle coaches and miserable views notwithstanding. In terms of time taken and cost of traveling.
I don’t think Mumbaikars were back on the trains so soon after the blast because they can ‘bounce back’. Despite the fear of life and limbs and the sadness for the fellow commuters who died or lay injured, they willed their hearts to step into the boxcar. For what other options did they have?
I don’t know why the terrorists chose to plant the bombs in the trains. I don’t think the bombs could keep the crowd away for more than 24 hours. Perhaps a more dangerous deterrent would had been poisonous chemicals. After all that sound and fury of a bomb-blast only 200 people died.
Once I tried to count the number of people in a jam-packed coach. Four to a bench x 64 benches = 256. Plus 100 standees. 350 to a coach x 9 coaches x 150 trains x 3 routes! One and a half million! Do our locals carry so many every day? Three crore rupees generated everyday by sale of tickets! Is anybody auditing these figures? Where is the money going? Why is this not getting translated to a better deal for the commuters? Why do we have to travel in such inhuman conditions?
Look around yourself in a second class. Only common people travel in these coaches regularly. They don’t have the time and the inclination to protest. Most of them wear a glazed expression on their faces. But they all have a dream. An eternal hope in their hearts that one day a new line will be miraculously laid and super-fast trains will glide smoothly over it, and take them to their destinations in luxury. Like the ones on which Japanese, Londoners and even the Shanghai citizens travel.
A Mumbaikar has a burden. He has to subsidies all those ticket-less travelers in Bihar and UP. He has probably financed part of the swanky underground metro in Delhi. Because he is the murga.
A typical commuter in Mumbai can be profiled easily. Generally less than 50 years else he will not be able to withstand the rigours of daily traveling. Slim and nimble on his feet so he can take part in the daily stampede getting on and off the train. Fastidiously clean to keep all sorts of diseases away. He has the ability to switch off his brain at will. It helps to protect oneself from the plethora of sights and smells which assaults his senses everyday. He is deeply religious because he needs God on his side to take him safely through the day. He carries a black bag slung across his shoulder which leaves both his hands free. In the monsoon he carries a small umbrella which fits snugly in his bag.
There is no pleasure traveling in locals. As a matter of fact train commuters look at those who have managed to get out of the daily commuting with lot of envy. He is trapped in a lifestyle where he has to risk his life and limb everyday. Rains, floods, derailment, deadly stones aimed at him from the slums, bombs …anything can trip him in his daily journey. He lives in the war-zone and there is no easy escape from this.
It was disgusting to see the VIPs who visited the hospitals to pay their lip-service. When they said ‘we salute you and your Mumbaikar spirit’ I felt like giving them a sound whack on their backside. Have these guys ever traveled in the local trains? Who are these jokers surrounded by a horde of security guards who come to see the plight of a traveler in the hospital?
Who is paying the salary for their security guards and their swanky cars? It’s us! Despite paying taxes we have to go through the grind everyday and these guys live in luxury. To them we have only one message – you please fight the terrorists yourself. If you cannot, then privatize the railways and out-source the security to more able agencies.
We don’t need your noble words and the hypocritic faces. Just give us a comfortable train so we can carry on our jobs. Give us a less crowded and faster train with AC. We don’t need the windows because there is nothing worthwhile to see outside and it will save us the foul smells. We don’t need other people’s miseries to encroach into our minds. The slums, beggars, drug addicts, those living on the life’s edge please keep them away from us.
At least don’t treat us like cattle. We would prefer to have beautiful people, beautiful sceneries and luxurious upholstery around. If that is not possible at least give us a workmanlike train. After all we are paying for it!
Mumbaikars don’t like to talk very much about their local trains to outsiders because it is our private shame.
Capt Raj. S. Chakravorty
Five years back I decided to try my hand for a shore job. So, after signing off from the ship I joined the teaching faculty and started teaching at Naval Maritime Academy. I used to travel by local from Nerul to VT. A distance of 49 kms took one hour to cover. This was the first time in my life I was commuting daily by trains. I had graduated, so to say, to become a true Mumbaikar depending on the local trains for my bread and butter.
Those days the Harbour line was not at all crowded as compared to the Western and Central line. I had with me a first class season pass. The crowd in the first class were the office going type and, in the non-peak hours there was enough space to put up our feet on the opposite seats and stretch out comfortably.
My day was a fixed routine and my life revolved around the 06:58 local. From home to the station was a 7-minute walk. Some days if I was running late I hopped in an auto for a quick ride. So….. 06:50 leave home, 06:58 catch the local, 08:01 reach VT. The 1 hour in the train was meant to prepare my lectures and plan out the rest of the day.
On reaching VT I used to cross the subway at a brisk pace and catch the Academy bus leaving at 08:10. The bus zoomed through Cuffe Parade and Colaba where we could see some of the eminent residents returning from the morning work-outs. It was still quite early in the day for the office crowd to throng the roads. At 08:25 I would reach the Academy, grab a cup of tea, before rushing for the first lecture starting at 08:30. The return trip was flexible and depending on the classes could be as early as 01:30 PM. I had lot of time for myself unlike a typical 9 to 5 job.
I came to recognize most of the regulars on the train in that one year. We had a strange camaraderie. I do not remember ever speaking to anyone of them. We used to acknowledge each other by the merest of the smiles and mostly it was by the softening of our facial features. Generally Mumbai local train commuters wear a grim face.
Today I hardly travel by the trains. But I do not miss them. The crowds have become unbearable and the conditions have deteriorated. Back then there was no need to fight for a seat. The rains are more severe today and tracks are flooded very easily. Life in the local trains has become bad. For a second class commuter it is even worse.
When the Western line suffered the serial blasts I felt an immense sadness. As such the commuter has a lot of hardships. He is totally dependent on the smooth running of the train. A slight delay or problem on the way throws his life out of gear. The trains are his lifeline.
There is really no other way to travel for those who stay far from their workplace.
Buses take too long, and the bad roads make long-distance commuting impossible. Similarly daily commuting by car is not practical, even if one could afford the high cost. Day in and day out you have to live through this mindless existence. Nothing can replace the local train – crowds, ramshackle coaches and miserable views notwithstanding. In terms of time taken and cost of traveling.
I don’t think Mumbaikars were back on the trains so soon after the blast because they can ‘bounce back’. Despite the fear of life and limbs and the sadness for the fellow commuters who died or lay injured, they willed their hearts to step into the boxcar. For what other options did they have?
I don’t know why the terrorists chose to plant the bombs in the trains. I don’t think the bombs could keep the crowd away for more than 24 hours. Perhaps a more dangerous deterrent would had been poisonous chemicals. After all that sound and fury of a bomb-blast only 200 people died.
Once I tried to count the number of people in a jam-packed coach. Four to a bench x 64 benches = 256. Plus 100 standees. 350 to a coach x 9 coaches x 150 trains x 3 routes! One and a half million! Do our locals carry so many every day? Three crore rupees generated everyday by sale of tickets! Is anybody auditing these figures? Where is the money going? Why is this not getting translated to a better deal for the commuters? Why do we have to travel in such inhuman conditions?
Look around yourself in a second class. Only common people travel in these coaches regularly. They don’t have the time and the inclination to protest. Most of them wear a glazed expression on their faces. But they all have a dream. An eternal hope in their hearts that one day a new line will be miraculously laid and super-fast trains will glide smoothly over it, and take them to their destinations in luxury. Like the ones on which Japanese, Londoners and even the Shanghai citizens travel.
A Mumbaikar has a burden. He has to subsidies all those ticket-less travelers in Bihar and UP. He has probably financed part of the swanky underground metro in Delhi. Because he is the murga.
A typical commuter in Mumbai can be profiled easily. Generally less than 50 years else he will not be able to withstand the rigours of daily traveling. Slim and nimble on his feet so he can take part in the daily stampede getting on and off the train. Fastidiously clean to keep all sorts of diseases away. He has the ability to switch off his brain at will. It helps to protect oneself from the plethora of sights and smells which assaults his senses everyday. He is deeply religious because he needs God on his side to take him safely through the day. He carries a black bag slung across his shoulder which leaves both his hands free. In the monsoon he carries a small umbrella which fits snugly in his bag.
There is no pleasure traveling in locals. As a matter of fact train commuters look at those who have managed to get out of the daily commuting with lot of envy. He is trapped in a lifestyle where he has to risk his life and limb everyday. Rains, floods, derailment, deadly stones aimed at him from the slums, bombs …anything can trip him in his daily journey. He lives in the war-zone and there is no easy escape from this.
It was disgusting to see the VIPs who visited the hospitals to pay their lip-service. When they said ‘we salute you and your Mumbaikar spirit’ I felt like giving them a sound whack on their backside. Have these guys ever traveled in the local trains? Who are these jokers surrounded by a horde of security guards who come to see the plight of a traveler in the hospital?
Who is paying the salary for their security guards and their swanky cars? It’s us! Despite paying taxes we have to go through the grind everyday and these guys live in luxury. To them we have only one message – you please fight the terrorists yourself. If you cannot, then privatize the railways and out-source the security to more able agencies.
We don’t need your noble words and the hypocritic faces. Just give us a comfortable train so we can carry on our jobs. Give us a less crowded and faster train with AC. We don’t need the windows because there is nothing worthwhile to see outside and it will save us the foul smells. We don’t need other people’s miseries to encroach into our minds. The slums, beggars, drug addicts, those living on the life’s edge please keep them away from us.
At least don’t treat us like cattle. We would prefer to have beautiful people, beautiful sceneries and luxurious upholstery around. If that is not possible at least give us a workmanlike train. After all we are paying for it!
Mumbaikars don’t like to talk very much about their local trains to outsiders because it is our private shame.
Capt Raj. S. Chakravorty
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