An indentured ship’s journey 165 years ago

AS YOU read this column, Indian indentured workers on the Truro and Belvedere were on the Indian ocean making their way to Natal, 165 years ago. In the year that we commemorate the 165th arrival of the first indentured worker to the colony of Natal, much work remains in telling the full account of the experiences of those indentured workers. The extract, below, is from the Indian Africans that documents the diary of a ship captain who ferried Indian indentured workers.

What we know about the voyages of the SS Truro and SS Belvedere in 1860 is that about 684 indentured workers huddled together on the journey to their new African homes. Their sweat was to grease the ailing economy of colonial Natal. The Belvedere left Calcutta for Port Natal on October 4 and the Truro departed Madras on October 12. The Truro arrived in Durban on November 16 with the Belvedere making the longer journey arriving 10 days later, on November 26.

Stewart Fairbairn of Sydney, Australia, posted notes and images on Facebook drawn from the diaries and clippings of his grandfather, Max de Gruyter. The latter had captained ships carrying indentured workers, passengers and cargo to various destinations across the globe. What was remarkable from the entries is that De Gruyter had actual embarkation and on deck pictures. No longer were indentured workers an entirely anonymous mass, named and documented but faceless.

The correspondence that followed was more astounding as Fairbairn magnanimously shared the priceless information. This fresh source enable us to go beyond local archival material but much detective work remains. The rare pictures on these pages are from Fairbairn’s family albums. The images from the SS Umona can be fairly reliably narrowed down to between 1899 and 1903.

Thanks to Tony Allen, we know that the SS Umona was a 2031-ton steam powered cargo ship built in 1890 by Laing James & Sons of Sunderland. The British registered vessel was owned by Bullard, King & Co. of London who were among those who did a thriving trade with their “coolie ships”.

In a Guardian column headlined "When Indians Emigrated to Natal – A Sea-Captain’s Story’", De Gruyter wrote: “This trade is now a thing of the past. No more Coolie ships plough through the waters between India and Africa. The immigration restrictions and the fear of Indianising the Union put a full stop to it, but some years ago it was a profitable trade…”

Profit was the primary motive. There was considerable pressure on ship captains to deliver their cargo intact and alive. In a reference going back to the mid-19th century on the Trinidad route, every indentured worker's death reduced the charter money by £13. One captain received the following note from his agent, John Wreinholt, in Calcutta on February 24, 1858: "My DEAR CAPTAIN SWINTON - Government will only pay you on so many Coolies landed alive. The Roman Emperor lost 86 out of 288 taken on board here, consequently lost £1000.

“... Another ship lost a larger sum; so be cautious. By the time of his voyages at the turn of the century, De Gruyter believed the regulations taking care of the health of indentured workers to be very strict.

"As they entered the depot they were subjected to a strict medical examination. If and when they passed this, their clothes - such as were fit for further wear - were fumigated, and the men, women and children received the order of the bath, which was carried out with plenty of soap and hot water. All worn out clothes were destroyed and new clothes, consisting of shirts, dotys, blankets, etc, issued. An extra lot was issued on the day of disembarkation."

There was also considerable fear of infectious diseases like cholera and small-pox.

De Gruyter had his crew get down on their hands and knees.

"The tween decks had been scrubbed and holy-stoned to a snowy whiteness. Hospital, kitchen and bathhouses were newly painted or scrubbed. Kitchen utensils had received a special polish - in fact everything was put in apple-pie order for the final medical inspection of ship and fittings, which was held by two Government doctors. Drinking water for the emigrants had to be distilled; none other was allowed not even for cooking purposes."

Had half those precautions been in place 40 years earlier, the Belvedere might have been spared the 29 deaths on the same journey from Calcutta to Durban.

"The new arrivals also had to be registered. These events were of special interest to the officers of the ship as each new arrival meant an extra gratuity for the doctor, master and officers, the bonus being calculated on the number of souls landed, not embarked."

It goes without saying that deaths on board were discouraged. The captain continues elsewhere: "We had been at anchor for about four days when one of the emigrants took it into his head to die of pneumonia... Luckily nothing further happened except that two children were born, thus balancing the number of souls on board again."

Despite De Gruyter's random references and attempts to triangulate the births and deaths on board, the actual dates of his various voyages still leave us in the realm of informed guesswork.

With regards to the deck arrangements, we learn that: "The day of embarkation was busy. The vessel which was secured to the end of the pontoon jetty at Garden Reach had been fitted with a platform 6ft wide, which ran right round Nos 1 and 2 tween decks and also round Nos 3 and 4."

The human cargo was slotted in an allotted space of 6ft by 2ft per person. A sail screened off a small area to serve as a toilet, (no doubt contributing to the rampant diseases). Even those unfamiliar with imperial measurements will get the impression that the decks literally had people packed like sardines.

On the food arrangements, De Gruyter writes: "Two meals a day were served. They consisted principally of rice and curry and chupatties (pancakes). The rice was served by means of sledges each bearing a large square tin. The emigrants were lined up in two rows on each side of the ship decks, with their tin plates ready to be filled as the sledges passed them. A couple of sirdars were in charge, while a compounder at each side saw to the fair distribution of the food

"The captain also had a light hearted take on what he calls 'chupatty day when the single women were called out at 5 am to receive measures of flour and ghee for kneading and rolling.

"The noise was terrific, as the women sang all the time... Each seemed to have her own tune. The young and adventurous men of the party hung around the neighbourhood, closely watched by the sirdars to see that they got into no mischief... Chupatty day was always a regular outlet for the bottled-up spirits of the young ladies." 

Selvan Naidoo and Kiru Naidoo are co-authors of the Indian Africans.

THE POST