Home Browse Stories Find Chapters Contact Us

arranged to arrive for lunch and as I drove slowly up  their driveway a hornet flew in through the window and into my shorts and then stung me right on the balls! The pain was excruciating and I just managed to make the short distance and I jumped out of the car clutching them in agony. Just then the wife came out and said ‘Oh John is still out in the field, come in and have a beer he won’t be long. Are you all right you seem to be in some pain ?’ So in that extremely embarrassing way we   made our first introductions.”
One  evening when it wasn’t raining Ronny and I went for a walk  in the valley by the stream towards the factory. As we walked we met an old  cooly carrying four whisky bottles full of milk. Always curious I enquired as to how much a bottle of milk was worth?
“30 cents, 40cents, and 50 cents a bottle”, was the reply. So I inquired through Ronny what made the difference in price.
“ Well it all depends on how much water is added” came the reply. I suppose not much difference in concept from the same price in England being charged for skimmed milk as for the full cream product, from  which the dairy company has made either butter or sold the cream off separately. Another funny thing happened one day whilst I was walking over a large exposed rock in the tea at Halgranoya. I looked down, as I always had my  eye open for the glint of a precious stone, and there before me was a small coin which once I had cleaned it, I found it to be an English quarter farthing dated 1853. I never even knew that  they existed but later I found out that in the early days of the colony sterling was used until superceded by the rupee and the coin was called a groat.
Soon December was upon us and I agreed to join Dad, Mac, my fat friend Gordon Ruxton, and of course Charlie and Lilian for Christmas on the “Waterlily” at Trinco. Mac offered to give me a lift on the 23rd in his Austin with his Sinhalese driver Mutti. I took down not only my gun, but my new camera and photo album that I had recently added with my latest enlargements that I had done myself. As usual we left Downside early in the morning at about 4 am and Mutti drove at breakneck speed in the early dawn darkness. We only briefly stopped in Kandy, and sped on. As we drove past Matale in the low country we came up to a slow car ahead negotiating a gentle left hand bend. Mutti swung right  to overtake it on the bend only to find that there was a bus coming headlong for us on the single track road with a grass verge. I was in the back frozen with fear, expecting an almighty headlong collision, but instead he swung the car right down the grassy bank with the opposing bus passing us on the inside left, and then drove back onto the road.  Mac turned smiling and obviously very pleased, and said:
“ My God Mike, I can tell you there are not many drivers you will ever find that could do a manoeuvre like that  so efficiently. Absolutely first class and full marks to him” and with that he broke into his perfect Scottish Sinhalese and showered praise on him! I said a silent prayer to myself, was quiet, and just thankful to be alive and still in one piece!
Next morning on Christmas Eve, Mac, Gordon and I rose early and went snipe shooting in the fallow  paddy  fields north of Trinco. The weather was poor and dull with a steady light drizzle, but it was ideal for snipe shooting and Mac  with his quick eye, was as usual making a good bag, whilst I only slowly learnt the art of shooting a darting twisting bird that arose in a flash only a few yards ahead. What really took my fancy though was to see the dozens of copper-headed bee-eaters dancing in flight all around us with their pointed wings and graceful swooping flight. With the light rain, the air was full of midges and other insects, and the bee-eaters were having a sumptuous field day, and one could automatically feel their delight as they darted and dived onto their prey all around completely oblivious of us. Eventually at midday exhausted we came back to the house-boat and a good curry and siesta. So it was that by the time evening came we were all pretty tired and turned in early at about 10 o’clock. I fell fast asleep on my bed in the gun emplacement, and then at about 1 am on Christmas morning I half awoke with a dream that I was in flames. I suddenly came to my senses, and saw to my horror that the 2 foot square ventilation grill at the bottom of my bed was like a roaring blowtorch with flames shooting up and deflecting downwards off the wooden sun roof. How I had not been burnt was a miracle. I rushed into to Father’s cabin, shook him violently:
“Wake up quick the whole place is on fire”. He jumped up and headed for the door, but I quickly told him it was impossible to go  that way with the flames  right across, so instead I lifted and pushed him through the side port window and he landed slowly head first on the top deck where I immediately followed. The flames now were about 50 feet high, and we first woke up the two servants in the forehead  compartment. I looked to see about using the new dingy that we had just purchased only the day before, but it was quite useless being engulfed in flames  blowing down onto it, with the gunwales all alight and burning. There was only one thing to do as we stood on the bow of the burning craft and that was to get to the motor boat which was anchored about 50 ft away. I dived in swam and got on board, and soon had the engine started and was able to pick up the servants and Father who was by this time in the water. Next I picked up Charlie and Lilian who were at the stern of the vessel,  up wind of the flames ; but the problem was Mac and Gordon who were both asleep in the cabin below  next to where the fire was at its strongest. There was no way of getting to them, or even shouting, as the roar of the flames by now over 100ft high in the strong wind, was deafening. Finally after what seemed an interminable wait they appeared at the long slit windows. Mac jumped in the water first. I knew he was terrified of the sea as he could not swim, but  I jumped in and helped him over to the boat and  then  he  was pulled up into the safety of it.  Shortly after that , fat Gordon too managed to squeeze through the narow opening. Later when I asked how he did it and how very worried we all were about him getting out he retorted:  “ Mike when you have a blow torch and a blazing inferno up your arse, you will find that you can squeeze through the eye of a needle”.

We were now all rescued in the motor boat. Miraculously everyone was safe and without a scratch. The flames now lit up the whole of the long cove, as we viewed the blazing scene from the safety of the launch. Not a soul had come to help, and the only person we ever saw was a solitary Tamil on a bicycle who momentarily stopped to see us and the blazing wreck. The Royal Navy never appeared, but as we motored off, we all said a prayer of thanks that all were well and sound. We cruised to our new next door neighbours house , on Plantain Point and woke him up at about 2 am. David Cameron was a retired wealthy planter, a huge framed man of vast girth. He had never married but had kept a Sinhalese mistress all his life and had two sons, both of whom he had looked after kindly and given them a first class education at the best schools in the island. They both became successful planters later in life. David was most hospitable as we stood in our barest night clothes, and found us comfortable beds in his spacious and luxurious house. Next morning we had to go shopping, and as I only was wearing my underpants, he lent me a pair of his trousers to go into town. I put them on and wondered wheter I could fit two or  even three of my skinny frames into

2/3 Next Page.