CYMRU (TANGAKELLE)

(450 acres.approx.)
Category - High Grown
1953/54

     Tangakelle was in the sub-district of Lindula and consisted of three divisions viz. Tangakelle, Cymru and, some miles away, Walaha, totalling about 1,100 acres.

     The Tangakelle PD was on Tangakelle division, which had a Conductor, the senior SD on Cymru and the junior SD on Walaha. The factory was on Tangakelle but was used by Cymru for evening muster and evening leaf weighing and for pay.

     The PD of Tangakelle was a dour, crusty old Yorkshireman with the reputation as one who was bent on looking for mistakes. The PD's bungalow (in particular, it was said, the master bedroom window) looked down from a hill on to the SD's bungalow and the morning muster point which was on the cart road just below the latter. It was said that one PD used to shout instructions and criticisms down to his SD. This positioning of bungalows meant that the PD could hear when the SD arrived back from an evening out, especially because the road to the SD's garage had enough of an upward gradient to make the engine noise of the car (or motorbike) audible in the PD's bungalow - a most inconvenient thing, for the SD that is. At this time, no CTP SDs were permitted to leave their plantations without permission from their PD except on the afternoon of Wednesdays (Club day). In later years this was changed to permission being required only if one were sleeping elsewhere for the night. However, if one was out at a party and returned early in the morning in time for muster it was not considered staying out for the night! Similarly, there was a strict rule that no 'lady' stayed the night, unchaperoned. On the odd occasion that an unchaperoned 'lady' did visit she was put up at the PD's bungalow, provided of course, that he had a wife present. However, it did not matter at what time she returned from the SD's house provided that it was before dawn!

     On one occasion my PD, having met me somewhere on the plantation, told me, 'Your muster was two minutes late this morning.' And my polite reply was, 'That depends on whose watch was correct, Sir.' To this there was, unaccountably and thankfully, no response.

      The SD's bungalow was a tiny one. It had two small bedrooms, two small bathrooms, a sitting room and a dining room, both small, and a kitchen, pantry and servants room up a flight of covered steps at the back. Perched as it was on the end of a small, steep ridge the garden around it at the front and two sides was very small although the vegetable garden at the back was a little bigger as the ridge was triangular. Because of these physical features there was no place for a garage by the bungalow; it was by the roadside below, about 100m by field road from the bungalow. Some thirty or forty feet almost immediately below one side of the garden was a cart road leading to the Cymru Upper division 'lines'(15) , and children going back and forth used to taunt my young and impressionable German Shepard dog, Emile, who used to bark furiously at them from the edge of the garden. The consequence of this taunting was that, when Emile was with me and we passed or went into the compound of the lines, and the children gathered as they were wont, he would go for them. Until I trained him to come when called, I had to put him on the leash when near the lines. He was a very intelligent animal whom I trained to attack anyone who raised their hand at me. He and a stout stick I carried with me at all times were my protection against any attack on me. I never carried a knife, which I had, (a sheath knife leftover from my scouting days) or a gun, which I later acquired for sport, as I considered such behaviour to be unwise for many reasons. One day in the factory, where the pluckers' evening leaf was weighed on the first floor, Emile was lying at my feet under the table as he usually did, when a plucker came towards me with her hands clasped together at her upper chest in the customary act of respect, and Emile, mistaking this for a threat to me, took off from under the table at this woman just a few feet away. I yelled to him to come back and he obeyed immediately. This incident may have given thought to anyone who later felt inclined to harm me but there were really no indications of such a prospect on Cymru at any time.

     Because the bungalow garden was so small, I thought that one way to enlarge it a little at the front was to introduce some poria(16) into a few bushes there and let it spread. This I did, with my conscience in turmoil because it was dishonest and against everything I stood for. I even forgot to realise that it would be years before the desired effect would be achieved. To this day, whenever I think of this, the memory hits me in the stomach.

    There were two workers' unions, the CWC and the DWC but, from memory, the workforce was not a difficult one.

     I had by this time realised that, in the field, the further from the road one got, and the more steep the land, the worse was the standard of work. This was mainly due to the fact that kanganies and other supervisory staff, including many (most?) PDs and SDs, were disinclined to put in the effort to check the work in these places. I made it a point to do this as well as demand the same of my staff though this only with moderate success despite many fines and castigation. A great deal of my "management by walking around" was off the roads, and at times, starting at the top somewhere, I would descend randomly through the tea. I also often checked work a day or two after it had been completed and the workers long gone, but if there was any bad work the culprit/s heard about it one way or another. This method of supervision I adhered to on all plantations. On some I even opened up a few areas by converting, at little cost but to great benefit, field drains into field paths.

     "Jat" was a corruption of the Tamil word for type or variety and, in the case of tea, colloquially referred to the type of hybrid ranging from the twiggy, small-leaf bush from China (low jat) to the large-leaf tree type from Assam (high jat). Low jat was low yielding and low growing, and high jat high yielding and would grow into a medium sized tree if it were not pruned. Until the advent of vegetatively propagated tea in the late forties, all tea planted was hybrid, the hybridity ranging indeterminately, according to random pollination, between low and high jat. The higher the jat the taller the bushes grew between prunings and I experienced fields up to four and a half feet high when nearing pruning. Fields like this were not only tall but the bushes in them formed a complete cover through which one had to push; something which, in wet weather, wet my body from armpits down and I used to stop walking as little as possible. For the pluckers it was much worse because they had to move slowly, plucking one bush at a time, and often used to shiver throughout the day. In the case of the taller bushes, they often had to climb onto the frame of the bush in order to reach the leaves at the top. They used a special blanket called a "kumblie" that had been waterproofed by the application of an extract of the tamarind seed. The kumblie was folded in such a manner that it fitted over their heads and hung down, covering their backs, arms and legs but not the front. As for me, I had long since dispensed with a raincoat as it restricted leg movement when I was off the road, and that was most of the time, and also got torn in no time. An umbrella was just about useless and an encumbrance. When I was wearing gumboots and it was raining, I had to stop every so often to rest my heels, one at a time of course, in the fork of a shade tree to let the water flow out of the boots. However, some water in the boot was helpful, if noisy, as it got warmed by body heat. The result of all this was that in wet weather I would be sopping wet and have to change at lunchtime as well as before evening muster. The pluckers had no such luxury. For weeders rain was a worse problem because they had to bend over to reach the ground as they went about their work.

     Cymru No. 2 field was a high jat field and was relatively flat. It had been pruned since my arrival and brought into post pruning production by me (sic) and was being plucked by a specialist gang of pluckers referred to as "new field" pluckers. These pluckers earned more because new fields yielded more than old fields, stimulated as they were by the recent pruning. As fields advanced in their pruning cycle, at this elevation four years, growth slowed and yields reduced. Correspondingly, younger(17) fields had to be plucked every six of seven days and older ones every ten.

     From the start of bringing this field into production, I applied my perfectionist standards by diligently guiding the pluckers to apply themselves to a very high standard with both carrot and stick. The result of the teamwork was a field whose bushes looked like flat tables - a remarkable achievement. I had never seen anything like it and nor had my PD. Around about this time the CTP Chairman arrived on a visit and, according to my PD, stopped in the middle of this field and, looking around, said, 'This is a picture of perfection!' I do not recall if he put that in his report.

     At some time thereafter it occurred to me to do something else with this and the other new fields. Because mature fibres in the stalks of plucked leaf were detrimental to good quality manufactured tea, pluckers were made to spend up to half an hour, three times a day before their leaf was weighed, that is one and a half hours per day in eight, picking out as many stalks as possible. This, to me, was a terrible waste of time, and the process also resulted in bruising of the leaf to some extent - also detrimental to the quality of the final product.

     I concluded that if the fields were plucked every two or three days, and the shoots to be plucked carefully selected, three things would happen viz. 1. Over-maturity of stalks would be eliminated, thus eliminating the need for picking over the leaf prior to weighing, 2. The pluckers would have an extra hour and a half per day for work productive for themselves (they were paid an incentive bonus over a certain weight plucked) as well as the Company, and 3. Since all shoots were picked at optimum maturity they would be at optimum weight and, therefore, increase yield.

    So, how to put this into practice?

     I started by selecting from the very best of the "new field" pluckers a mature and respected lady who, together with the "new field" Kangany, reported to me the following day in No. 2 Field. I spent the day with this plucker teaching her to pick only those shoots that were ready, and leave anything that would be exactly ready in three days time. The Kangany learned by listening and observing. On the next day, I introduced another of the best pluckers who was taught by the first and me and observed by the Kangany. On the day after that, two new pluckers were introduced and each was taught by the experienced two. On the day after that, four recruits were selected and taught by the earlier four. Next, eight for eight and so on till all the new field pluckers, between thirty and forty if I remember correctly, were trained. Meanwhile, of course, the Plucking KP and others were brought into the picture.

     There was another discipline that had to be rigorously enforced, apart from the other usual ones such as maintaining levels, and that was that of always leaving at least one leaf above the first leaf, usually a modified one (small and thick), "for the bush". The theory was that a full leaf should be left "for the bush" so as to maintain its canopy and maintain the process of photosynthesis by which it produced new leaf. This was a constant and valid battle on all plantations, and in this new practice I said that I would fine each plucker fifty cents, a high fine, for each error in this regard, and there was a 25c fine for other infringements. The end result was that we plucked the new fields every three days and the pluckers harvested huge quantities, sometimes 130 lbs/day or more (it could have been 180) compared with say 80 lbs/day previously, and earned excellent money; so much so that they used to say, ' Dorai, we don't care if you fine us 50c per "strip"(18) , we are earning so much that it does not matter!' In fact, there was little or no stripping; that which occurred was not intentional. For reasons I cannot remember I did not introduce this practice on any other plantation.

     Abutting the Cymru Upper lines was a field, 3A or 3B, the bottom part of which the residents used as their toilet. Infants and the very young used the drains outside their line doors. This was not surprising as the old style of housing (lines) only provided about one lavatory per five families. However, checking on work in this area was a horrifying experience. The ground under the tea bushes, and the field road which ran through this part, were almost completely covered in excreta of varying colours, textures and smells. The stench was appalling and became worse with the disturbance one's shoes inevitably caused. I vividly remember my PD leading me through this area on one of his field rounds: he was slithering and slipping because the ground was sloping, and cursing articulately. Despite the taxing circumstances, I could not but chuckle, but one had to give him his due - he was conscientious enough to go to the area. Perhaps he thought he would catch me out? Anyway, it was not a place were one could do much observation of work as one was preoccupied with keeping one's balance, making sure that, if one slipped one successfully grabbed the tea bushes for support, and trying to survive without breathing. This was always a literally sickening experience.

     At this time the CTP had quite a big capital programme of building new accommodation for the workers, a programme that continued for about ten years These were units consisting of a small verandah at the front, a front room, a bedroom, a kitchen and a toilet - a vast improvement on those previously built - and were built in pairs. In time, I was to discover that many of those to whom these new units were allocated, were using the toilets to store things or as chicken coups, so I told them that they were not to do this as the toilets were meant to be used. Some responded, but many continued undeterred. Having tried cajoling and advising I started fining miscreants Rs 1 each time I found the toilets used for anything but the intended purpose. The district representative of the union expressed his disapproval of the fines but, when I explained the reasons for my actions, he could not but agree with what I was doing. In any case I had no intention of doing otherwise. My activities in this regard, particularly my habit of frequently checking toilets, caused the workers to give me, not unkindly, the nickname of "Kakus Dorai" (Toilet Master) - a sobriquet I was quite happy to live with!

     Dadaps were cultivated for green manure and shade for the tea, but their leaves were also good fodder for cows, and there were quite a few of these in sheds around the lines. Unfortunately, although most cow owners had dadaps growing as fences around their gardens for this purpose, these did not provide enough fodder even with the grass the owners used to grow and harvest in ravines and/or low wet areas unsuitable for tea. The consequence of this was that they used to steal dadap leaves from the fields, often causing much damage to the trees in the process, and that this theft and damage had to be dealt with by vigilance and fines.

     In the Upper division there was a five-acre weeding contract allocated to a family for the purpose of keeping occupied a senior female family member. I was unaware of this when, early in my time here, in the field I heard mumblings and grumblings and the sound of a sorandy. When I said something a woman stood up in the tea and started ranting and raving at me and waving her sorandy around in the air, apparently threateningly. My enquiries revealed that her name was Sellamma, that she had at one time worked for a PD somewhere as a 'nanny', and that she was off her head. I was told that she was harmless, but I also heard from the PD of the plantation next door, which shared a boundary with Sellamma's contract, that he had strayed into her contract, or reached her boundary, and had got the shock of his life when he was confronted by a virago. He said that he made a hasty exit!

     I felt sorry for this lady and tried to communicate with her and gain her confidence and friendship. This effort was motivated by sympathy as well as the fact of it being a challenge. All I managed, over a long time, was to make myself more or less accepted in her domain. She calmed down and, at times, used to talk to me in her incomprehensible way. I thought I sometimes picked up references to her employer of old. I got the feeling, or heard, that her mental breakdown had been caused by unrequited love or something of that nature.

     As intimated above, many workers had small gardens, usually across the yard from their lineroom. The fences of these gardens consisted, at least in part, of live fencing such as dadap stakes that took root and grew. What I discovered was that these gardens were artfully and gradually enlarged by a periodical shifting of the fence into the tea which, when it was within the fence, was removed. So as to put an end to this practice I made it a point to periodically inspect these fences at random.

     That year funds had been approved in the "estimates" for a new cart road of about one and a half miles through fields No.1 and 2. When the time came I enthusiastically put into practice what I had learned during my creeping on Glenlyon. To determine the course of the road we only had a very basic, but adequate, instrument called a road tracer from which one read levels and gradients. My PD did some of this himself and kept an eye on what I did during the marking of the road's path through the tea, but in determining the camber on the corners and on the straighter stretches I used my own initiative. What I found very useful was to visualise how water would flow on the road surface and camber so as to minimise the distance of flow at any given point. This proved to be very effective. Needless to say due consideration was given, in terms of camber, to the suitability of the completed road for vehicular traffic. I also insisted on a very smooth finish to the road bank - of no practical use but it looked good. I also felt that it created in the workers a pride in their work. This was a fascinating project for me and, I suspect, for my PD. By the time the road was complete I was aware that my PD wanted to be the first to drive along the road, but so did I! Hence it became a matter of planning and timing, and I, being on the spot so to speak, had the advantage, and won the 'race'. I must say that my PD showed no signs of rancour as a result of this, and he did drive through after I did.

     The PD had acquired a new implement for uprooting tea, called a Monkey Grubber, and told me to meet him at a particular place so that he could show me how it worked. It was a winch mechanism encased in metal, with cables coming out of both ends. One end was for attaching to the tea bush and the other to a suitable anchor, and for the anchor he chose a medium sized Grevillea. Then, having made sure that all was safe he gave the order for the winch handle to be operated. All eyes were focused on the tea bush but, although the winch was working, nothing was happening to the bush - but the Grevillea fell over!

    Beetlenut chewing was commonplace amongst the workers but, mainly because of the spitting out of beetle juice that this habit entailed, chewing it was banned in the factories. One day the PD was walking outside the factory when he was splattered with part of a jet of beetle juice emitted from somewhere in the upper floors of the factory, most likely not aimed at him. His reaction was very quick. He rushed into the factory, sealed off the upper floors, and proceeded to find the culprit. Some found this amusing. This PD commanded respect, but it was the nature of the man that was responsible for any misadventure to him causing respectful amusement.

    At the end of each day Cymru workers mustered outside the front of the factory where, under the shelter afforded by the first floor, the Head KP entered in the checkroll the details of work done that day. On the first floor above him, accessed by two flights of stairs, the weighing of the pluckers leaf was done by the Plucking KP in my presence. They came up one flight of stairs and went out via the other. On one day when men had been plucking , they were lined up in a disorderly fashion on the entry stairs when beetle spit splattered the Head KP and the checkroll. As it was not clear as to who was responsible the Plucking KP showed remarkable presence of mind and astuteness. He immediately ushered into the room those men who were uppermost on the stairs and then, to identify the culprit, put his hand on the chest of each one in turn until he came across a palpitating heart, and then announced triumphantly, 'Here is the culprit!' He then turned to the "Saak Kaaran" and said, 'Bring me a glass of water.' This having been brought, the KP went to the culprit, whose mouth was still full of the beetlenut mix, and commanded him to drink all the water (and with it the stuff in his mouth!). This mix is strong and not pleasant if swallowed. Everyone was greatly amused by this incident. No punishment was meted out by me as the humiliation and discomfort he suffered was enough.

   My PD had taken an interest in what I was doing in the Cymru bungalow garden and paid many brief visits there to have a look.

   Because the defunct Scrubs factory was being dismantled, the PD on Somerset, the one who was there when I was last there, had requested the temporary transfer of an SD to, primarily, oversee this work and record all items and materials extracted. I was selected for this and moved to Somerset in about January 1954.

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