Is it a boat, is it a plane? A WIG craft sets sail amongst the 4000 ships in the Singapore Registry of Ships

Watching the newly christened Airfish 8-001 leave its berth for the weekend at the Promenade at VivoCity on Monday, not flying as it should really have been, but moving on the surface due to port limit speed restrictions, it struck me that it looked like a stingray, gracefully moving through the water, not below the surface as a stingray does, but on the surface. It was sight to behold, leaving against the backdrop of surreal world of Resorts World Sentosa, with its airscrews spinning. There were several fast ferries awaiting their berths at the cruise centre, gathered as if in a salute to a significant moment – the first voyage of a WIG craft as a registered ship.

Airfish 8-001 leaving the Promenade at VivoCity on 26 Apr 2010.

The shipping world and maybe the world at large is sometimes slow to accept technology for what it is and this seems especially so for the Wing-In Ground Effect technology. It is one that has taken many years since when the phenomenon was first discovered. Ground effect is actually seen in all aircraft as they come close to the ground and is used very much in nature, as it is in non aircraft applications. Many large birds such as the Albatross and Geese are able to fly long distances by conserving energy flying close to the ground – something that was realised during the Second World War when Allied bombers low on fuel were able to return to their bases in the British Isles by flying close to the ground. In motor racing, ground effect is used to create a downward force to generate a stabilising force.

Airfish 8-001 gracefully moving past Sentosa.

Ground effect is said to be the most efficient form of flight and is a technology that has been waiting to be exploited. Ground effect vehicles have actually been with us for a while, the idea being exploited to lift sea borne vehicles off the surface of the sea to minimise drag, while at the same time flying close to the ground such that the efficiency that flying in ground effect provides can be exploited. Examples of these are X-112 built by Dr. Alexander Lippisch for Collins, and the huge Soviet built Ekranoplans during the Cold War for military use. Commercially however, exploitation has taken a long time in coming. Flying close to the sea surface, there was for a long time a reluctance by legislators uncertain about which civil authority to govern the design, construction and operation of such craft, to determine if it should be seen as a boat of a plane. Why not, one may ask, fly a plane then in Ground Effect? The answer lies in the fact that planes, designed to operate in free flight, are unstable when in ground effect and pilots are trained to counter the effects by having to actively control the plane during take-off and landing. A purpose built Ground Effect vehicle on the other hand can be designed such that it is stable in ground effect without the need for active control. A feature of WIG craft is the large horizontal tail that is provided for this purpose.

Speech made by Mr Lam Yi Young, Chief Executive of MPA during the christening ceremony of Airfish 8-001 on 25 Apr 2010.

The wrangle over whether a WIG craft was a boat or a plane was finally settled with the publication of the Interim Guidelines on WIG Craft by the International Maritime Organisation (IMO) in 2002. While that paved the way for the acceptance of WIG craft as a sea craft, it has taken another 8 years before we now see the first WIG craft in the world to be registered as a ship, Airfish 8-001. This is certainly a significant milestone for the technology, one that as David Hughes in an editorial in the Business Times on 28 April 2010 noted, that has been done with “the right support structure in place to develop and exploit new technologies”, the support structure being the Maritime and Port Authority (as Singapore’s Civil Maritime agency), Lloyd’s Register, and several other government agencies and partners. Mr Hughes also outlines the plans of the company behind Airfish 8-001, Wigetworks, including its future R&D efforts.

Business Times editorial on 28 Apr 2010.

All this leads to pretty exciting prospects for the WIG craft, once seen as a poor cousin to the aircraft. Those that were present for the christening ceremony and for its first voyage, as the fast ferries in attendance off VivoCity on Monday, have perhaps witnessed an especially significant moment in maritime transportation history.

Article in My Paper on 26 Apr 2010 relating to the entry into registry.

Singapore Registry of Ships record showing Airfish 8-001 as a registered ship.

Park Lane, Mayfair and Hyde Park

The mention of Park Lane and Mayfair would bring memories of the many evenings spent in my childhood playing the board game of Monopoly with the family. The two properties on the Monopoly board are of course the most expensive and sought after, guaranteed to give one an excellent chance of winning the game. Having acquired the game at Marican and Sons which was located along East Coast Road when I was maybe six or seven, it was was one of those things I were grateful to have as a child, as it was able to keep me entertained in a time when the world that did not have the distractions that the world today brings to her children. It was perhaps my favourite game, as it was one which maybe depended less on skill and age for a fair chance of winning.

It was only later in life, that I would associate Mayfair and Park Lane with the exclusive district in London of the same name. Mayfair bounded by Oxford Street to the North, Regent Street to the East, Piccadilly and Pall Mall to the South and Park Lane to the West, would be an area where I would often find myself wandering around during a sojourn in London in 1990, being close to Hyde Park (Park Lane runs along the eastern boundary of Hyde Park) and Speaker’s Corner. Well before I got to wander around the streets of London, we did have a Mayfair, Park Lane and even a Hyde Park here, close to the area where I went to school, not perhaps the exclusive areas that the parts of London they were named after, but names that were familiar to many nonetheless. We had the Mayfair Hotel along Armenian Street, Park Lane Shopping Mall built in the late 1970s, and Hyde Park Café.

The Mayfair Hotel by the time I was growing up, had been a hotel that had seen better times. Housed in an art deco styled building that has recently been refurbished along Armenian Street, the hotel opened in 1950 and was quite a decent enough establishment to play host to the BOAC (now British Airways) air crew on their stopovers. The hotel closed due to poor business in 1976, and reopened in 1979 as the New Mayfair Hotel. By that time, the hotel had become quite a sleazy place and it wasn’t too long before it closed its doors again.

The art deco building that once housed the Mayfair Hotel along Armenian Street.

A short walk from Armenian Street, down to Bras Basah Road and pass the row of now demolished shop houses that housed the well known Rendezvous Nasi Padang restaurant at the corner of Bras Basah Road and Prinsep Street and another row of now demolished shop houses that housed the Tiong Hoa Hotel along Prinsep Street, there is a quaint little row of conservation shop houses that we see today known as Prinsep Court. You will see at the end of this row, just beside what is now the Elections Department building, the Hyde Park Café. The café had its origins across Selegie Road at a shopping complex that has also seen better times, Park Lane Shopping Mall. Hyde Park Café is of course associated with a Singapore food institution, Soon Heng Fish Head Curry and was started by the daughter of the founder of Soon Heng.

The Elections Department Building along Prinsep Street.

The corner of Bras Basah Road and Prinsep Street in the 1950s (Source: national Archives of Singapore).

Selegie Road and Prinsep Street in the 1950s (Source: National Archives of Singapore).

To get to Park Lane from where Hyde Park is today, one will pass by a bright yellow coloured building at the corner of Selegie Road and Prinsep Street – this was something we always noticed from the bus – I can’t quite remember what it was used as before and I don’t quite know when it was built – perhaps one of you can enlighten me … but I am glad it still stands today as a reminder of what was once like.

The distinctive Selegie Arts Centre Building at the corner of Prinsep Street and Selegie Road.

View of Selegie Road and Prinsep Street - Park Lane Shopping Mall is on the left of the photograph.

Prinsep Court - a row of conservation shop houses.

Hyde Park Cafe.

Taking flight on the future of maritime transportation: a WIG Craft seen at the Promenade at VivoCity

Those of you who were down at the Promenade at VivoCity this weekend might have noticed a strange looking craft moored along the Promenade and perhaps may have speculated as to what it is. Looking somewhat like something out of a sci-fi movie, the craft was captured moving along past the Marina at Keppel Bay by a contributor to Stomp on Friday, and caught the attention of a crowd of curious onlookers as it pulled up at the promenade, who perhaps expecting to see a crew of aliens emerge as the side door opened, were greeted instead by a group of young men and women dressed in lifejackets and white overalls.

The arrival of the strange craft at the Promenade at VivoCity on Friday attracted much attention.

The brilliant white craft with its large horizontal tail quite prominently sticking out, features two large anhedral triangular shaped wings which sweep forward (as opposed to delta wing aeroplanes with swept back wings) – a feature of what is known today as Wing-In Ground Effect (WIG) Craft designed by the illustrious aerodynamicist Dr. Alexander Lippisch, a pioneer of the delta-winged aircraft who contributed much to the field of aircraft design having made designs for the Luftwaffe during World War II and later contributing to the advanced in US aircraft designs. WIG Craft are said to work on the principle of ground effect in which due to the finite distance between the lifting surface (being the wings) and the ground, a cushion of highly pressurised air increases lift as well as help in artificially increasing the span of the wing reducing wing tip vortices which are responsible for a loss of energy or induced drag. There are in effect two schools of thought in WIG craft, which in the past have been referred to Ground Effect Vehicles (GEV), the German based on Lippisch’s designs and the Russian, which features a square planform wing – looking much like a stub sticking out from the craft. While the Russian version had perhaps the advantage of simplicity and have widely been adopted for WIG designs, the Lippisch designs have the advantage of a more forgiving shift in the centre of pressure that occurs in ground effect (a phenomenon that all aircraft experience on landing) which helps greatly in maintaining the stability of the craft in flight. Lippisch designs are also said to be more efficient, and operate well at heights of one-third to one-half the wingspan, compared to the Russian version, referred to as Ekranoplans, which operate at one-tenth of the wingspan. This provides greater room to bank and hence reduce turning radii allowing for better manoeuvrability and more importantly allowing a greater clearance to be maintained over the sea and hence can operate at heavier seas.

Is it a boat or a plane?

Ground effect contributes greatly to what can be considered to be a more efficient form of flight (from an energy consumption point of view) and is used widely in nature by large bodied birds such as the albatross to conserve energy allowing them to fly over long distances. It is also known that bombers on missions over Europe which were low on fuel were able to return to their bases in the British Isles by flying low, and more information on this can be found at website of the company that owns the WIG craft seen at VivoCity. Using it in combination with a seagoing craft, allows the craft’s weight to be supported (as is necessary to reduce drag to allow for higher speeds at sea to be achieved – for example hovercraft and hydrofoils). In this case the craft can be completely lifted out of water, not just reducing drag tremendously, but also, by avoiding contact with the water’s surface, interaction with the waves is minimised allowing for a much more comfortable ride.

The futuristic looking craft features a reverse delta shaped anhedral wings, a large horizontal tail, and two air screws.

The WIG Craft now at the Promenade, the AirFish 8-001, is marked with markings which includes the company behind the craft, Wigetworks, as well as that of their partners, among which are Lloyd’s Register and the Singapore Maritime Academy, as well as Creative Technology. Interestingly, the craft is also marked with the Singapore flag as well as a number which starts with the prefix “IMO”. That it features these is significant in itself, being the first WIG Craft in the world to be registered with the national maritime authorities as a sea going vessel, IMO being the abbreviation for the International Maritime Organisation. For a long time, the technology has met with many obstacles preventing it from taking off fully, none larger that the issue of whether it was to be governed by the civil aviation authorities or the maritime authorities. Having an IMO number, which all ships entering into registry are required to, in pretty significant in itself, and represents a clear sign that the technology is about to take off.

The Airfish 8-001 seen on trials off Changi in 2008.

In a symbolic ceremony today, the Airfish 8-001 would be christened, to commemorate the significant event – a milestone in Singapore’s history as a maritime nation perhaps, the entry into registry as well as into class of a WIG craft as a seagoing vessel. Perhaps it is the start of a new chapter in maritime transportation. Other players are also known to be working on WIG craft, including the Koreans in an effort that is heavily funded by the Korean government – and we may soon take this flight – no longer a flight of fancy, but one that would propel us into the future of maritime transportation.

The Airfish 8-001 could propel WIG craft into the future of maritime transportation.

Off Changi in 2008 - the airport control tower visible in the background.

The Cariad: photographs aboard another historical top sail ketch, built in 1896

At berth across the Vega on display at Boat Asia 2010 was another historical top sail ketch, the Cariad, a purpose built racing yacht. The Cariad, named after the Welsh word for “Sweetheart” was built by Summers & Payne in Southampton for a Lord Dunraven in 1896 and is currently in magnificent condition, having undergone a full restoration in Korat, Thailand. It was certainly a treat to be able to step onto her expansive wooden deck and into the gleaming wood panelled accommodation below decks.

The Cariad in 1896 (source: http://www.cariad1896.com/).

Designed by A. E. Payne, the Cariad’s hull is constructed of teak wood laid over a steel framework. The Cariad has an length overall of 118 feet, a beam of 81 feet and a draught of 12 feet 6 inches. She is currently powered by a 240 HP diesel engine. More information is available at the Cariad’s website.

The Cariad is a 114 year old top sail ketch built in Southampton.

Stern of the Cariad.

Polished wood name plate.

Ship's bell.

The helm.

The fore deck.

Rigging on deck.

The main deck.

Ropes on deck.

Compass repeater on the main deck.

The newly restored ketch is on sale at a princely sum of USD 3.5M.

Accommodation below decks.

The lounge below decks.

The heads.

A stateroom.

Skylights.

Hydrostatic information on the Cariad.

Saying hello to an old acquaintance

Lying somewhat hidden from view in the grounds of the building that once was the Coleman Street branch of Anglo Chinese School (ACS), unbeknownst to many,  is a simple block of grey granite, supported by a red brick plinth. This block of stone has been with us for four decades now, laid with the intention of it being the foundation stone for a  monument that was to be erected in tribute to our early founders – the many nameless immigrants, for the contributions made to the development of modern Singapore, amid much fanfare by the late President Yusof Ishak in 1970, during the twelve months during which the 150th anniversary of the founding of modern Singapore was commemorated.

The foundation stone for a monument intended to honour the early immigrants who contributed much to the development of modern Singapore at its current location outside the lobby of the National Archives.

For three decades, the stone stood in hope, fading into obscurity at its original location on the promenade along Fullerton Road (opposite the Fullerton Building), as it lay vainly in wait for the monument that it was meant to be a forerunner of. It was a stone that I had observed and perhaps been guilty at times of ignoring, on the many walks along that same promenade that my parents were fond of taking in my childhood, one that we made regularly which would take us from Empress Place via Anderson Bridge to Clifford Pier, when it seemed to deserve no more than a cursory glance.  There were a few occasions however when I did try to acquaint myself with the grey block, tracing the inscriptions on its four faces with my fingers, wondering for how much longer it would sit there as the world passed it by.

Inscription on the foundation stone reads: THE FOUNDATION STONE OF THE MONUMENT IN TRIBUTE TO THE EARLY FOUNDERS OF SINGAPORE WAS LAID BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF SINGAPORE ON THE 18TH DAY OF JANUARY 1970.

I had the opportunity recently to seek my old acquaintance out at its current home, just outside the entrance lobby of what is the National Archives of Singapore, where together with the red brick plinth that supports it, it silently sits in the shadows of the plants that seem to offer a comforting arm to it, as it sits as if wanting to hide from a Singapore that has chosen to forget it. The early founders stone moved to its current home at the turn of the new century, and looks none the worse for wear, having been exposed to the elements on the promenade for thirty years. As I stood there next to my old acquaintance in silent contemplation, I recalled the the promise it once held, which today remains sadly unfulfilled.

Inscription in Chinese.

When the idea for the monument was mooted by the Alumni International Singapore, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before $200,000 in funds needed, could be raised to erect the monument. The temporary location of the foundation stone was significant enough – along the sea front close to Collyer Quay where many of the early immigrants arriving by boat would have landed. Somehow in the interim, despite attempts at finding a suitable design through a competition, as well as with several attempts to raise the necessary funds, a suitable design was never found, nor sufficient funds raised. In 1985, the Alumni International decided to instead channel the funds raised to other areas.

View from the street through the fence of the National Archives.

That the monument was never built, and that the foundation stone is placed in an relatively obscure location, is perhaps a reflection of what we have become as Singaporeans, lacking a sense of who we really are, and of how we have got where we are. We have embraced the bright lights that the modern city comes with, choosing to discard much of the reminders of our humble past. There are of course those reminders, which except for a few glorious buildings that have been put to appropriate use, which have become nothing but an extension of the way we live, housed in the buildings, in the sanitised neighbourhoods of old, but lacking the heart and soul that once made the edifices and streets what they were. Perhaps all is not lost, for that the stone still exists, provides us with a glimmer of hope that the monument and the people the monument is meant to honour, is not all forgotten. It would be nice if we could see the monument built, maybe in time for the 200th anniversary of modern Singapore.

Another view of the early founders' stone from the inside of the National Archives compound.

The stone is located somewhat hidden from view in front of the lobby of the National Archives.

The Vega: A historical top sail ketch built in 1893

I had the opportunity of going onboard a delightful little ketch, the Vega, at the recently concluded Boat Asia 2010. The pictures I have seen of the Vega, which is 117 year old, in full sail, conjures up images of salt seasoned seamen in oilskins braving the elements and the tempestuous seas, but seeing it at berth among the luxury cabin cruisers on display at  the boat show, the trimaran mega yacht White Rabbit Echo and the under construction Reflections at Keppel Bay forming the backdrop, seemed somewhat surreal.

The Vega is a historical ketch built in Norway in 1893.

The Vega's bow.

The Vega was restored in 1995 and flies the Maltese Flag.

The Vega, with its hull of teak, oak and pine, which was built originally as an open decked stone and slate carrier in 1893 in Hardanger, Norway, and rebuilt in 1905, trading on routes that took it along the coast of Norway and Sweden, is in excellent condition, having been restored in Denmark in 1995. A deck has been added and accommodation designed by the owner’s wife has been placed in what were the cargo holds, transforming the underdeck area into a delightful and cosy living space.

Principal Particulars of the Vega.

The Vega as she was as a top sail ketch (Source. www.sailvega.com).

The Vega is currently being put to a noble cause and is involved in humanitarian missions, delivering food and medical supplies to the less accessible places such as the Solomon Islands and Papua New Guinea during the aftermath of the Tsunami, and is said to sail 10,000 nautical miles annually. It is currently crewed by her owner Captain Shane Granger, his wife and another crew member. More information on the Vega and her missions can be found at her website.

The Vega in full sail.

The Vega is used to deliver humanitarian aid to hard to access areas in need, such as in the Solomon Islands in the aftermath of the 2004 Tsunami.

Blocks and tackle.

A tender carried at the stern.

Contributions for the upkeep and missions the Vega are involved in are most welcomed.

Throttle control.

The helm.

More tackle ...

The tool rack.

Inclinometer.

The galley.

Implements of the galley.

Glasses on the rack.

Sundries ...

The fo'c'sle store / accommodation.

Cosy and comfortable Captain's quarters aft of the engine room.

The Heads.

View of the Ketch at berth.

Main deck of the ketch.

My big, strong, and maybe a little less than friendly experiences at the corner of Orchard and Scotts Roads

There was a time when the prospect of a visit to the bank would fill me with terror. That was during the time when I was a boy of four, perhaps five, and would dutifully accompany my mother on her many errands, shopping trips and visits to the hairdresser and the like. I accompanied her on her banking trips as well, including those that she made to the branch of The Chartered Bank at the bottom of Shaw House on a fairy regular basis. The visits to the bank, which was then touted as being “Big, Strong, Friendly”, somehow never seemed friendly for me. Big and strong maybe. It would always mean that I had to come face to face with the tall burly guard who also served as a doorman, who, wearing the stern look of a bearded and turbaned Sikh, would always open the doors for us. For some reason, I never did take notice of the warm smile my mother tells me that he would usually flash, choosing to focus instead on his imposing appearance which heightened my irrational sense of fear of policeman and security personnel, which was perhaps brought about by having been constantly reminded during my bouts of misbehaviour, that a figure of authority would soon apprehend me. Such was the terror that I felt that I would chose to forego the opportunity for childhood adventure that being outside the stuffy confines of the Austin 1100 would have presented me with, opting to remain in the parked car with nothing to do except stare impatiently out of the partially wound down window. There were actually a few occasions when I did have to overcome my irrational fear, venturing into the banking hall once I remember, to get my hands on the brightly coloured Donald Duck coin box that I so craved. I must have trembled at the sight of the guard, while keeping a tight hold on my mother’s hand as I followed on her on the far side of the guard hoping that her skirt could obscure me .

Lido and Shaw House at the corner of Orchard Road and Scotts Road, seen in 1960 on an old Postcard.

In the later years, a Chartered Bank advertising campaign actually had another burly Sikh security guard as the face of the “Big, Strong, Friendly” slogan, opening the doors to a banking hall with a big cheery smile. I would often then look back in amusement at my own personal experiences as an anxious young boy of the big, strong and maybe a little less friendly banking experience I had in my younger days.

Another view of Shaw House with Lido next to it c.1960 from an old postcard.

I was indeed sad to see the old Shaw House being demolished when that happened sometime in 1990, having been a prominent landmark at the corner of Orchard and Scotts Roads since it was unveiled in 1958. Along the way, it also housed several embassies, consulates and national trade bodies, including the Swiss embassy and also the South Vietnamese embassy until the fall of Saigon in 1975 when it was abandoned. Another landmark next to Shaw House, Lido Cinema, went with it in 1990. I too have a few fond memories of Lido. That was where I had watched many movies with my parents, including my very first visit to the Cinema for the screening of Jungle Book. Lido was also where I watched the first movie unaccompanied by my parents. I went with a few older neighbours in 1975 for the screening of The Pink Panther Returns.

The new Shaw House now houses the Lido Cineplex.

Looking at the area where the new Shaw House has come up over the old, you wouldn’t see anything of how it was all those years ago. In place of the block of offices and a small open car park in front of it where I would often wait in the parked car, and the a cinema next to it, the new Shaw House stands tall, housing the new Lido – a cineplex popular with Singaporeans, as well as Isetan Department Store and several popular eating places. Very little is left behind to remind me of the big, strong and friendly experiences that I had there … maybe only the successor to The Chartered Bank – a branch of Standard Chartered Bank which moved from the old Shaw House to neighbouring Shaw Centre in 1985.

A cup of coffee today as it might have been yesterday

Sometimes, a chance encounter with a person or a chance discovery of a place or a building can be just so delightful. This was so on one of my wanderings through the streets of a Singapore that time has left behind, when the discovery of a charming little coffee shop, nestled in an obscure corner of a part of Singapore that I know little of and set amongst quaint streets and buildings that are reminiscent of a time we have long discarded, seemed almost like a godsend to a soul longing to be transported back to that forgotten time.

A cup of kopi-O to start the day.

Seeing that little coffee shop, sitting quietly as if wanting to be overlooked, brought back memories of the wonderful kopi-tiam (coffee shops) of old, where the robust aroma of thick black coffee would greet the morning crowd who, sitting on the rounded wooden chairs by the heavy marble top tables, would greedily devour the simple fair of roti-kaya, kopi-O, and soft boiled eggs.

The coffee shop at the corner of Clive Street and Upper Weld Road.

Kopi-O served in a cup reminiscent of the coffee shops of old.

One morning, early for work, I decided to venture back, perhaps in an attempt to persuade the little shop to bring me back to the days that I so miss, sitting down at a table set amongst rickety marbled top tables of yesteryear that were a little worse for wear, sans the rounded wooden chairs that would have gone with it. Ignoring the signs of today in the newer generations of tables and plastic chairs that were interspersed with the tables of old, and perhaps the dates on that the calendars that were also reminiscent of those of yesteryear hanging on the tiled walls reminding me of where I was in time, it did seem for a while that I was back to a kopi-tiam far removed from ones that today attempt to recreate the charm of the kopi-tiam of old with sterile and air-conditioned outlets that seem so necessary in our modern world, with modern prices to go with it.

Preparing a cup of coffee in the traditional way.

There I sat patiently as the smell of roti being toasted over the red-hot ambers of a charcoal fire as is traditionally done, filled the air, mixed with the aroma of kopi-O being brewed with the help of the customary coffee sock blackened through use, into a metal pot with a long spout placed over a grill to keep warm over the same charcoal fire. Observing the insides of the kopi-tiam, I was delighted with the sight of objects that brought the charms of the old kopi-tiam back to me: coffee-socks slung next to the preparation counter with shelves lined with coffee cups and glasses; a big bowl sugar resting on the preparation area; empty condensed milk cans with holes punctured on the semi opened lids through which a loop of raffia is attached waiting to be used as take-away containers for coffee; white tiled walls with old-styled calendars resting against them ….

Coffee socks hanging by the preparation counter.

Loaves of roti (bread) lying in wait.

Eggs to be boiled.

Even calendars reminiscent of the calendars of old are displayed on the walls.

Another calendar reminiscent of the calendars of old displayed on the wall.

Very reminiscent of the days of old - when coffee is taken away not in a plastic bag, but in a washed condensed milk tin.

The roti-kaya was served as it would have been, lightly toasted and darkened slightly by the charcoal ambers, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, with a thin layer of kaya (a pasty sweet spread of coconut jam) and a generous slice of butter wedged in between two slices of toast cut in two. For a while, I was back in the kopi-tiam of old, but alas, it was only for that fleeting pause from what was today, sitting there in the midst of the reminders of yesterday.

Kopi-O and roti-kaya.

---

Afternote:
One more thing that I remembered on the coffee shops of yesteryear was seeing men gathered around the tables, with shirts unbuttoned or undershirts rolled up above their tummies, slurping coffee from saucers!

My islands in the sun

There was a time for me when my “Islands in the Sun”, borrowing the title of Harry Belafonte’s rendition of the theme song from the 1957 movie, Island in the Sun, were the group of islands that lay to the south of Singapore. I am not sure why I called them that, but I always looked forward to a trip to one of these islands, perhaps for the chance to visit Clifford Pier and descend the slippery steps to one of the boats, or perhaps for the chance to feel the sea breeze against my face as the boat chugged along the southern seas of Singapore. It more likely though, that it was the chance to sail the high seas, as my imagination would have it, to the sheltered bays of the islands that lay beyond the Roads, where the likes of Blackbeard and Captain Hook would await, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting vessel, on their brigs with the skull and crossbones fluttering atop the main mast.

The Southern Islands of Singapore were once bustling with village life. Several, including Pulau Ayer Chawan, Pulau Ayer Merbau, Pulau Merlimau, Pulau Pesek, Pulau Pesek Kecil, Pulau Sakra and Pulau Seraya in the south western group, have been joined together as Jurong Island and have ceased to exist.

That pirates once roamed the seas around the islands was once true, the islands having been the domain of the gypsies of the sea, the Orang Laut, who living off the sea. The Orang Laut, translated into “Sea People”, were known, well before Munshi Abdullah made a mention of them in his autobiography Hikayat Abdullah, in which he describes hundreds of skulls rolling at the entrance to the Singapore River, skulls which were said to belong to the victims of the priates, to turn to piracy, roaming around much of the seas of the Malay Archipelago in boats called “Perahu Pucok”, translated into “sprout boats” that doubled up as their homes. The Orang Laut had in fact been present at the time of Raffles landing on the river, and were said to have scampered at the sight of the landing party. By the time I had got to visit the seas though, piracy had been a thing of the past, suppressed largely through the efforts of a Captain Samuel Congalton of the East India Company, and remained only as a figment of a child’s overactive imagination. The Orang Laut by then, had by then, also ceased to exist as an community, having largely assimilated into the greater Malay communities of South-East Asia, the last known communities of Orang Laut being recorded in the 1960s. This included the communities who inhabited some of the southern islands such as Pulau Brani and Pulau Bukom.

My imagination aside, the southern islands of Singapore were certainly in a world apart from the one that I lived in – one may say that it is even today where one can be transported from the hustle and bustle of the island city, into the empty silence of a deserted dolled up islands, or into the huge mess of steel and concrete that is a petrochemical complex, but back then it was a different but living world, where communities of people who would in going about their day-to-day activities, give the islands a special charm.

On the slow boat to Pulau Sekijang Pelapah, 1970.

A trip I made to the islands in 1970 that I have some memories of, maybe because of the photographs that I still have, was one on which I had accompanied my mother, who being a school teacher, was taking her class on an excursion (excursions were what school children always looked forward to at the year’s end – I am not sure if they still do) to one of the islands, Pulau Sekijang Pelapah, now known as Lazarus Island. I made it a point to sit by the opened access door of the ferry to catch the salt scented wind on my face as the ferry broke through the waves stirred up by the north east monsoons. The seemingly long and slightly uncomfortable passage, which may have caused discomfort to several of the ferry’s passengers, was finally broken by the sight of the green islands that lay ahead. As the ferry approached, the wooden structures of the houses on stilts that lined the shoreline, some extending well into the sea, connected by raised wooden walkways that doubled as kelongs beneath them, came into view.

On the jetty, Pulau Sekijang Pelapah.

Arriving alongside the rickety jetty that looked as if it was about to topple over, the tide meant that we had to step out onto the slippery narrow steps that led up to the walkway above, aided by a boatman. Stepping onto the walkway, I was overcome by a sense of fear, brought about not by the pirates of my imagination, but by having to walk over the rickety walkway of the jetty, on which gaps from missing planks featured prominently, giving me a clear view of the murky sea that lay beneath the jetty.

The land's end of the rickety jetty complete with missing planks.

Having lived mostly off the sea for generations, modern society caught up on the islanders by the time the 1970s had arrived. Many were forced to commute to Singapore to make a living and to receive their education. There was the odd primary school that was built, including one on St. John’s Island (Pulau Sekijang Bendara) – I remember a national primary school level football competition in which the team from the school I attended, St. Michael’s School, played against opponents from St. John’s Island School in the final, narrowly losing 1-2 to the islanders, but post-primary schooling had to be for all on the main island. The island villages which were run by a headman, a Penghulu, disappeared mostly in the 1970s and 1980s due to resettlement (a few were resettled earlier due to the setting up and expansion of the Shell refinery complex on Pulau Bukom), and many who had spent almost their entire lives on the islands, were forced to adapt to the confines of the small public flat.

Today, the islands are mostly uninhabited, wiped clean of the life that once existed. Many of the islands have also since disappeared, some absorbed into larger entities like Jurong Island, where a huge petrochemical complex now stands. Jurong Island through a series of land reclamations in the 1990s, joins together several islands to the south west of Singapore, including the main islands of Pulau Ayer Chawan, Pulau Ayer Merbau, Pulau Merlimau, Pulau Pesek, Pulau Pesek Kecil, Pulau Sakra and Pulau Seraya, increasing the total land area of the former individual islands there by three times.

Island village on stilts - Pulau Brani, early 20th Century.

The changing face of Middle Road

In looking up on the background of the areas around Middle Road and based on feedback received from a reader, Greg Lim, and my mother who was familar with the area having lived in St. Anthony’s Convent as a boarder, I have a better impression of the colourful history that the area around of which that I was only familiar with going to school at nearby Bras Basah Road in late 1970s has had. Over the years, the various parts around the road had played host to various immigrant communities, communities that have provided us living in modern Singapore with the unique blend of cultures and cuisines that we have today. In roughly a century, it has played host to a thriving Jewish quarter inhabited by many Jews of the Iraqi diaspora; a Japanese community, within which homes, businesses, brothels and even a hospital that catered to the Japanese, were set up, and of course the Hainanese or Hylam community which gave us wonderfully aromatic coffee, the many coffee shops which has become a national institution, and of course Hainanese Chicken Rice, made famous by an outlet that was right on Middle Road.

Middle Road looking northwest from the National Library Building facing Victoria Street. Most of the area has been rebuilt, with taller commercial buildings replacing the mostly two and three storey houses with shop on the lower floor and residential units on the upper floor.

There are several suggestions as to how Middle Road got its name. One that seems plausible was that Middle Road was the mid-point between what was the civic district of the British colonial administration and the Sultan’s palace in Kampung Glam. Another similar to this has it that it was the mid-point between the Singapore and Rochore (now Rochor) Rivers. Another suggestion was that it served as a demarcation line of sorts between the civic area and the ethnic settlements as planned by the early colonial administration. Whatever it was, it was served as a main street and focal point for least two of the ethnic groups that settled around it:  the Hainanese, for whom it was Street No. 1, which was referred to by the other locals as “Hylam Street No. 1″; and the Japanese as “Chuo Dori” or “Central Street”. The Hainanese community, which occupied the southeast end of Middle Road and some of the streets around (Purvis Street was Hylam Street No. 2 and Seah Street was Hylam Street No. 3), was the longest surviving of the ethnic communities in the area, settling initially around Hylam Street (which is within the Bugis Junction complex today), before moving towards the waterfront area around Beach Road, where there is still some evidence of the community. The Japanese, prior to the Second World War, settled along much of Middle Road, close to the Japanese Consulate which was located on nearby Mount Emily (at the building which became Mount Emily Girl’s Home), and the Doh Jin Hospital (which later became the Middle Road Hospital) was built to serve the community, as well as around the areas vacated by the Hainanese community around where Bugis Junction (Hylam, Malay, Malabar and Bugis Streets). The area comprised many dilapidated two storey shop houses, and much it was part of the Japanese red light district before the war, which were demolished in the early 1980s. Opposite Bugis Junction, on the area where the National Library stands, there were some other streets that were occupied by the  Hainanese and Shanghainese communities  (the Shanghainese operated the furniture shops that the Victoria Street area was well known for), which I had mentioned in a previous post on Victoria Street.

Incidentally, the streets running perpendicular to Middle Road had local names as well, with North and South Bridge Roads being referred to as “Main Street” or “1st Street”, being the main thoroughfare between what was known to the Chinese community as the “Bigger Town” where the main settlement of Chinese immigrants was across the Singapore River, and the “Smaller Town”, which was initially planned as a European district, where some of the later Chinese immigrants settled in. The other streets running parallel to North Bridge Road, west of North Bridge Road were numbered in sequence, with Victoria Street being “2nd Street”, Queen Street “3rd Street”, Waterloo Street “Fourth Street”, Bencoolen Street “Fifth Street”, Prinsep Street “Sixth Street” and Selegie Road “Seventh Street”.

I have a few photographs that I have taken on a recent walk through the area as well as some scans of old postcards which would perhaps provide a little glimpse of how the area has transformed over the years …

The face of Middle Road has changed over the last century.

The new has overtaken the old ... very little is left to remind us of the colourful history of Middle Road.

The former Bras Basah Community Centre close to the end of Middle Road near where the well known Swee Kee Chicken Rice (which was started by Mok Fu Swee who pioneered the commercialisation of the dish invented by Wong Yi Guan under whom Mok was an apprentice).

The Kiung Chow Hwee Kuan (Hainanese Clan Association) on Beach Road - evidence of the Hainanese community settling in the area.

A figure on the roof of the temple of the Kiung Chow Hwee Kuan (Hainanese Association) on Beach Road watches over the community.

Shaw Tower on Beach Road stands where the Alhambra and Marlborough Theatres stood on Beach Road at the end of Middle Road.

The view northwest down Middle Road from the area where the National Library building stands where the Empress Hotel once stood on the left and where Bugis Junction stands in place of a row of shops that included the Daguerre Photo Studio.

The same area of Middle Road in the 1970s.

The Empress Hotel at the corner of Middle Road and Victoria Street which was demolished in 1985.

The Empress Restaurant at the Empress Hotel was well known for the "Queen of the Mooncakes".

The National Library seen from the Hainanese area by Middle Road.

Bugis Junction was built over an area which was part of a Japanese enclave.

The transformation has seen an area of dilapidated shop houses which were once in an area of brothels is now a air-conditioned shopping mall within which some attempt has been made to recreate the former streets that has been incorporated into the complex.

Malay Street today - part of a shopping mall.

The corner of Hylam and Malay Streets from an old postcard (c. 1930s), when it was part of the Japanese enclave.

The corner of Hylam and Malay Streets today - within the area rebuilt as Bugis Junction.

The buildings that used to be St. Anthony's Convent at the corner of Middle Road and Victoria Street, from which my mother as a boarder had a view of the seedier parts of the Middle Road area.

St. Anthony's Convent in the 1950s.

Another view of the former St. Anthony's Convent building today.

The magical world of the Tivoli that was on Orchard Road

Mention the name Tivoli today, and what probably comes to mind to most of us is that magical gardens set in the heart of Hans Christian Andersen’s Wonderful Copenhagen where we can be immersed in the fantasy world that Hans Christian Andersen conjured up in the many tales he told, of which at least one, his most famous, the Nightingale, was inspired by the gardens in which he was said to have been fascinated with. The beautiful setting of the amusement park, with its theatres and restaurants, and wonderful gardens, best seen in spring when one is greeted by the multitude of colours that the flowers that delightfully decorate the gardens bring, served as an inspiration not just to Andersen, but also to a certain Walt Disney for his own wonderful fantasy land. The gardens had apparently also provided the inspiration to Singapore’s own Tivoli in Orchard Road, and it was this Tivoli that would have come into the minds of many of us back in the 1970s.

Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen is a magical fantasy world that served as the inspiration for Hans Christian Andersen's the Nightingale as well as Disneyland.

The Tivoli Coffee House, was apparently also inspired by the Tivoli Gardens and was located at the left hand corner of The Orchard, and had a sidewalk cafe atmosphere as well as a beautifully and elaborately decorated interior.

Singapore’s own Tivoli was a fantasy land of a different kind, one that transported us into a world that amused us in other ways – with a delightful menu inspired by the cuisines of Denmark and the continent, an array of beverages – including alcoholic ones, as the parasols that provided shade on the tables that spilled onto the sidewalk testified to, pastries and desserts. Tivoli in Singapore wasn’t so much there to amuse us in the way that the gardens from which it got its name would have done, but provided amusement to our palates. It was a coffee house, what would today be called a cafe. Back in the 1970s, coffee houses were everywhere, appealing to young and old in search of a banana split, a vanilla milk shake, or perhaps an iced coffee, which could be savoured in the cool comfort of the air-conditioned premises that attracted many. The Tivoli, which opened in 1971, perhaps drawing on the inspiration that its name provided, was the coffee houses of all coffee houses, serving its selection of food and beverages twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. By day, it drew couples on an outing, families out shopping, and by night it was a popular watering hole, attracting a regular crowd of locals, expatriates, and the boisterous men serving with the Australian and New Zealand forces in Singapore. The Tivoli Coffee House was then located in a two storey building, one that was purposed built as a car showroom that housed Orchard Motors, the distributor for the General Motors (GM) brands such as Vauxhall and Chevolet, converted into a shopping complex around 1970 and named The Orchard. Located at the corner of Orchard Road and Bideford Road, on which the original wing of the Paragon now stands, the shopping complex was right next to Fitzpatrick’s supermarket and housed some upmarket shops including Charles Jourdan, The Elizabeth Arden Salon, Diethelm Furniture, Jade Palace Restaurant and Thong Sia, as well as a branch of Robina Department Store, which made an unsuccessful attempt at breaking into the local retail scene in the 1970s.

The Paragon stands in place of The Orchard which was torn down in 1980.

The Orchard Shopping Complex seen in the mid 1970s.

The area where The Orchard stood as seen today.

Since I am on this area of Orchard Road, I would also touch a little on what the rest of the area would had been like back then. Moving down towards Scotts Road from The Orchard, which was demolished in 1980, along with neighbouring Fitzpatrick’s which was fronted by a opened car park. The Promenade Shopping Centre was built on the land occupied by Fitzpatrick’s, and was later torn down to accommodate an extension to the Paragon (this clarifies a comment posted by a reader, JC Carino, who lived in the area on a previous post on my impressions of Orchard Road of the 1970s). Right next to this was a petrol kiosk, which can been seen in the photograph labelled “Photo 4″ on Peter Chan’s post on on the petrol stations in Singapore’s CBD on the Good Morning Yesterday blog. This was in front of a squarish looking building which housed the Phone Book Company, which published the telephone directory and the Yellow Pages.

Fitzpatrick's Supermarket (Source: www.singas.co.uk)

The new wing of the Paragon stands where Fitzpatricks and later, the Promenade, stood.

The Tong Building which houses the Rolex Centre stands where a petrol kiosk and the Phone Book Company once stood.

Next was the road that was Mount Elizabeth and Champion Motors in a building that was similar to the car showroom that became The Orchard, which later also housed Orchard Motors together with Champion Motors (I think both were owned by the same company) which was the distributor for Volkswagen then. Where Champion Motors stood, Lucky Plaza now stands. Right next to this was of course the distinctive Chinese architecture inspired CK Tang building, home of CK Tang, which then opened six days a week and never on a Sunday. Here now stands part of Tang Plaza, which occupies the entire stretch up to Scotts Road, also displacing the old curved row of two shop houses that stood at the corner of Orchard and Scotts Roads.

Lucky Plaza stands in place of a car showroom Champion Motors - a dealer for Volkswagen cars in those days, as well as also housing Orchard Motors after it shifted out of the building that was converted into The Orchard.

The part of Tang Plaza where the distinctive CK Tang building stood.

Orchard Road at Scotts Road Junction: The curved row of shop houses next to C K Tang can be seen on the left. On the right side we can see the former Wisma Indonesia (short white building) on which stands Wisma Atria, Ngee Ann Building (where the Mont D'Or Cake Shop was) on which stands Ngee Ann City and Mandarin Hotel under construction (Source: www.singas.co.uk).

The Singapore Marriott Hotel and the Tang Plaza occupies the corner of Scotts and Orchard Roads where the curved row of two storey shop houses stood.

Looking down the area today, we see a totally different Orchard Road, one dominated by the cold modern steel and glass fronted shopping malls that have sprung up in place – it amazes me to think  that it wasn’t really that long ago that Orchard Road had a very different and perhaps more homely feel about it …

A sea of candlelight: Good Friday on Queen Street

Once a year during the Good Friday, the compound of St. Joseph’s Church on Victoria Street is transformed into a sea of candlelight, as thousands descend on the church and its compound for the Good Friday procession, spilling over into the area of Queen Street just behind the church. The procession is held to commemorate the crucifixion of Jesus Christ on Good Friday and is part of an evening service where the events leading up to the crucifixion and immediately after the crucifixion of Christ are reenacted.

The annual Good Friday procession at St. Joseph's Church, as seen from Queen Street, is one of a kind in Singapore.

A sea of candlelight: the Good Friday procession in the compound of St. Joseph's Church.

While the commemoration of the crucifixion of Christ on Good Friday at the church, referred to as the Portuguese Church, may not be as elaborate as the reenactments that take place in the barrio of San Pedro Cutud in the Philippines, during which penitents practice self-flagellation and are nailed literally to the cross, the elaborate manner in which the service and the candlelight procession is conducted is unique in Singapore, with one only other church close by, St. Peter’s Church in Malacca, where a similar (perhaps more elaborate) service is conducted.

The reenactment of the crucifixion as seen on a video screen at the rear of the church where many are gathered in the glow of candlelight.

During the reenactment of the crucifixion, a life-sized statue depicting the dead Christ is nailed to the cross, following which, the dead Christ is painstakingly lowered to a bier. The bier is then carried out the church into the compound and back into the church, accompanied by a statue depicting Our Lady of Sorrows and much of the clergy and congregation present, where thousands would be gathered in the light of their candles to witness the solemn occasion. The church, having been part of the Portuguese mission administered through the Diocese of the former Portuguese colonies of Goa (up to 1886), and then Macau (up to 1999), (the Catholic churches in Singapore were administered primarily by the French mission and later transferred to the Archdiocese of Singapore), adopted many of the elaborate traditions of the Iberian peninsula (St. Peter’s Church in Malacca was also administered by the Portuguese mission).

Crowds gather in the compound of St. Joseph's Church awaiting the procession.

As a child, I was a regular and perhaps reluctant participant in the service, having to accompany my maternal grandmother, who made it a point (when she was fit enough) to attend the service. What it meant for me, then a young child, were the hours of play time I would have to give up having to arrive several hours early to be able to get a seat inside the church. Seated on the rattan mesh webbing that were fitted to serve as seats and backrests on the carved wooden pews, with the the statues of the Saints (my favourite was the one of St. Sebastian tied to a stake) high on the church wall that may have otherwise have taken my attention covered in the purple cloth of mourning, there wasn’t much else to do except to wile the hours away poking my fingers through the rattan webbing. The service would culminate in the veneration of the cross, which would follow the procession, and one of the things I have a lasting memory of was the bunga wangi, as my grandmother would refer to the packet of scented chopped pandan leaves – “bunga wangi” meaning “scented flowers” that would be given to each participant after the veneration, which my grandmother would leave under her pillow as soon as she got home.

Rattan mesh webbing on the church pew at the Armenian Church in Singapore, similar to those that were fitted on the pews at St. Joseph's Church.

A light is shared before the procession.

A candle flickers in anticipation.

I was certainly grateful later on in my childhood when my mother allowed me to instead, join her on Queen Street with the thousands holding lighted candles, from where she would stand to witness the procession, while my grandmother attended the service inside the church. Not only did it relieve me of sitting for hours in complete silence, it also released me from the confines of the pews to the street outside, where there certainly was more going on to distract myself. Here, I could watch the candle sellers going about their business, the smaller candles were usually sold in pairs – their wicks attached, and the longer ones supported by a splint, as well as the other goings on around me. I was also able to find amusement with the lighted candle, exchanging light with others and dripping wax onto the ground, on which a mini wax sculpture could be created. It may not sound like much fun, but as a child it was certainly a marked improvement from having to sit quietly and still in the pews!

Many younger Catholics are among the crowds gathered in the glow of the candlelight, ready to carry the tradition on.

A light at the top of the church watches over the crowd.

A diffusion of candlelight greets the eye.

The procession begins with the bier of the dead Christ being carried through the aisle of the church around the compound.

Our Lady of Sorrows follows behind the bier.

Our Lady of Sorrows moves through the sea of candlelight.

The procession of the congregation follows the bier.

The procession of candles follows the bier.

The progress of the procession through the compound.

The progress of the procession through the compound.

The progress of the procession through the compound.

The compound after the procession.

That old rusty red coloured building along Sembawang Road

There was a rusty red coloured building that once greeted the traveller along Sembawang Road. This would have been just after where the road started at the junction with Mandai Road. The building seemed to leap out at you on the right side of the road travelling north, just after you passed the old Post Office up Mandai Road on the left, breaking the monotony of what seemed an endless journey to the village of Chong Pang and towards Sembawang end, as was often the case on the many car rides to the Mata Jetty and the coastal villages near end of Sembawang Road, sitting in the back seat of the car. There were the other occasions when the journey was made by bus, which made it even longer, as was it would have been sitting even with the bus load of boisterous boys who were my classmates, on the road to (as it appeared to us) the inclined field at Sembawang School close to Chye Kay Village, to cheer the school football team playing for the North Zone schools championship, and perhaps later, on the bus journeys on service number 169 to Sembawang Shipyard.

The rusty red coloured building rising over the area, as seen in the mid 1980s, before it was demolished (Source: National Archives of Singapore).

The rusty red building was one that rose imposingly over the area, seemingly keeping the village around it hidden in its shadows, which dominated the area with its physical presence, and gave an immediately recognisable face to the village that had been given its name by the original owner of the building, the illustrious Lim Nee Soon. Nee Soon had in 1912, built the Thong Aik Rubber Factory that the building was a part of along what was then Seletar Road, to process the latex that was drawn from the rubber trees found in the plantations to the north of the area. Together with the many plantations that had come up around the area, which grew crops such as pepper, gambier and pineapple, along with the rubber trees, the factory provided opportunities drawing many immigrants to the area which had been referred to, in Teochew (many of the immigrants were Teochew speaking), as Kangkar, “Kangkar” being a geographical term used to describe an area by a river, the area being by the Seletar River. The factory was subsequently renamed as the Nee Soon and Sons Rubber Works in the 1920s, and in 1928, was taken over by “Rubber King” Lee Kong Chian and renamed Lee Rubber. In 1959, the factory was leased to Kota Trading Co. Sdn. Bhd. a subsidiary of Lee Rubber.

An old postcard of Lim Nee Soon's rubber factory and the surrounding area.

The rubber factory was leased by Kota Trading Co. Sdn. Bhd. a subsidiary of Lee Rubber in 1959.

I am not really sure when the factory disappeared – I remember seeing that it was still there on my way to the shipyard around 1983 and 1984 when Yishun New Town was being populated with people being resettled from the villages around. I guess it must have disappeared sometime after, perhaps in the later part of the 1980s. There is an empty feeling I get passing through the area today … along with the factory, the villages and the businesses around have mostly vanished, leaving the area almost like a ghost town.

Another view of the rusty red building (Source: National Archives of Singapore).

The buildings belonging to the rubber factory before being demolished (Source: National Archives of Singapore).

Another building belonging to the rubber factory before being demolished (Source: National Archives of Singapore).

Singapore’s golden boy signs for Man U?

For most of us, the introduction to April Fools’ Day would probably have been back in school when silly pranks are played, accompanied by the taunt of “April Fool!” to the unsuspecting person the prank is played on. It could range from an “Oh, there is a bug on you shirt” to some more elaborate pranks involving careful planning. One rather elaborate but rather distasteful prank I can recall was one in college when a mock terrorist attack was staged, bringing panic and pandemonium to the lecture hall.

The origins of April Fools’ Day had not been quite well established, although a common belief is that it originated in France, where it is called “Poisson d’Avril” or “April Fish”, where in the 16th century, when the beginning of the year was changed from the end of March (or 1st April) to 1st January, traditionalists who continued to insist on celebrating the New Year on 1st April were made the subject of ridicule.

Singapore's golden boy of football, Fandi Ahmad, was the subject in an April Fools' hoax carried by the Sunday Times in 1984.

Over the years, even the media has been involved in putting hoaxes forward to a gullible public. This brings to mind one hoax in Singapore that perhaps caught many off guard: the Sunday Times had carried a report on the front page that had the golden boy of Singapore football, Fandi Ahmad, who was at that time at the peak of his career and playing for the Dutch outfit FC Groningen, signing for Manchester United. The giveaway was that he was to play his first game for Manchester United in an exhibition match against FC Groningen on 31st June, but somehow this eluded many including the Malaysian news agency Bernama, with the agency issuing a note to retract the story which came hours too late! I was myself fooled – and being a supporter of a rival football club, I certainly wasn’t too pleased to hear the news, only realising that it was all a hoax when the newspaper announced the following day that it was all a joke!