CROSSING THE INDIAN OCEAN BY SHIP DURING WORLD WAR II

by Dr. Cornel DaCosta
cornel@btinternet.com

Many Goans in East Africa worked hard for five years and then took long leave, of about six months, to visit their loved ones in Goa.

When young, I did the trip by passenger ship six times. The voyage each way took about nine days and, in later times, was most pleasurable. And although very young, I can recall, in much detail, a voyage in 1942, travelling on the Tilawa from Goa to Mombasa, Kenya.

I am now amazed that so many people made such a trip when enemy submarines were known to be attacking shipping in the Indian Ocean. Indeed, my trip on the Tilawa was the last one she made before being torpedoed by a Japanese submarine on 24th November 1942. Many Goans lost their lives, and for many years afterwards, survivors had horrific tales to recount.

On the Tilawa, I recall the terrible fears of the hundreds of passengers. During the day, an escorting British frigate was seen just twice and provided some reassurance. However, at night all lights on board were switched off, so that the ship would not be visible and become an easy target for marauding submarines. At best, one had a torch to find one's way to a toilet and young children prone to tantrums were desperately quieted by their anxious mothers.

It is difficult to describe the fear of the passengers while crossing the Indian Ocean in such perilous circumstances. Most were simply fatalistic or took to ceaseless prayer. They literally counted the hours rather than the days when they would make it safely across the sea. But why did they travel in such hazardous circumstances?

A number of reasons come to mind. Firstly, they were prepared to take the risk of a crossing in wartime. Many assumed that the Indian Ocean was relatively safe compared to other seas in the world and believed that a harmless passenger ship would not be sunk by the enemy.

Their prime purpose was to renew contact with family and other loved ones in the ambience of Goa. They took with them, from East Africa, presents like chocolates, ground coffee, sugar, bars of soap and manufactured clothing for folks 'back home'. In turn, they took from Goa things not available in East Africa, such as genuine Goa sausages, Goan sweets and the permitted bottles of feni and Portuguese wines and spirits. All these were transported in metal trunks which were stacked in the depths of the hold of a ship.

Spending six months in Goa was an absolute joy. Homes were alive with so much activity. Christmas, Easter and Carnaval were a particular treat. Moreover, at least one goat would be bought and reared for milk for the children, chickens would provide eggs and meals too, while a pig was invariably fattened to provide homemade sausages by the expert chef in the locality. Tailors were employed at home to produce clothing of one's choice and the relatively empty beaches, in an incredibly under-populated Goa, provided real pleasure. To be taken around in horse-drawn carriages was a great novelty, as was travelling in the rickety buses on red roads which threw up a lot of fine dust every time one of the few motorised vehicles went past.

As electricity was not yet available, lighting in homes at night was limited and the shadows thrown by candlelight in large homes were often rather daunting. This was not helped by local people providing endless stories about ghosts and haunted homes as well as accounts of encounters with snakes. However, this was compensated by many new experiences, including the skill of expertly drawing water from a deep well.

Secondly, children were able to meet with grandparents in Goa for six months at a time, even if they did miss schooling for such long periods as I did periodically! If children were starting school in East Africa, keeping to school re-opening dates were deemed important, however difficult the sea passage.

Thirdly, there were those who were travelling for the first time to East Africa after obtaining a much valued ‘permit’ to work there. And there were those who had gone to Goa to get married and were returning with new spouses.

Clearly, these voyagers across the Indian Ocean were really brave to travel in the difficult and dangerous circumstances during the six-year Second World War. I salute their fortitude and use this opportunity belatedly to convey my condolences to families who lost their loved ones in the depths of the Indian Ocean.

Because of very fortuitous circumstances, my family and I were lucky not to have gone down with the Tilawa, missing that fate by just a single earlier crossing. Fate does work in strange ways!
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Dr. Cornel DaCosta lived in Kenya before moving to London in 1962. He completed a doctorate and then taught at UK universities for many years. In Kenya, Cornel developed a passion for the saxophone, formed an amateur quintet and played dance music until 1961. Subsequently, he also played in London. Cornel’s varied writings have appeared in articles, books and in cyberspace.