Seychelles Idyll

By Ronald Austin

‘Seychelles Idyll’ is an evocative, gripping novella set in a remote part of the British Empire at around the time when colonial rule was coming to an end.



With miniscule resources, those involved in preparing for the handover to independence in the Seychelles had to deal with problems that had arisen from years of neglect, racism, and old-fashioned colonial snobbery. The situation was made more complicated by international powers having an interest in the outcome. In order to assist in turning the Seychelles police into a modern service capable of dealing with the oncoming demands of independence, Ed Morris, a police inspector from London is sent to help. Seen through his eyes the events that take place are complicated, demanding, hilarious, and entertaining.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Conrad Press
• Release date: Oct 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781839783807

Book preview

Seychelles Idyll

R

Ronald Austin

Seychelles Idyll

Published by The Conrad Press in the United Kingdom 2021

Tel: [phone]

www.theconradpress.com

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ISBN 978-1-839783-80-7

Copyright © Ronald Austin, 2021

The moral right of Ronald Austin to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved.

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A

Typesetting and Cover Design by The Book Typesetters

www.thebooktypesetters.com

The Conrad Press logo was designed by Maria Priestley.

Contents

Chapter 1: Friday, 24 April 1970

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

1

Friday, 24 April 1970

‘We’re flying at thirty-five thousand feet, at an average speed of five hundred and twenty miles an hour and should arrive at Kampala Airport at 2:00 p.m. Passengers not entering Uganda are advised to remain on the plane during re-fuelling.’

The polished air of indifference and cultured drawl of the pilot gave a feeling of insulation and relief to the passengers of the VC10 flight BA1504, Seychelles-bound from London Heathrow via Paris and Kampala.

Ed studied the menu enthusiastically, deciding immediately on a steak with a bottle of red wine to follow. The air hostesses all seemed young and attractive; their perfectly fitting uniforms matched both their manners and accents. The tension brought on by the excitement at the start of the journey, which had begun at British Airways Victoria Terminal in central London, being transported by coach to Heathrow, then through passport control and on to the plane, was gradually dissipated by the courteous attention of the hostesses with a number of whiskies.

As the plane made its way up into a blue sky above a blue sea, he was left wondering what an inspector in the Metropolitan Police in London was doing heading off to the unknown in the middle of the Indian Ocean, for six months or more.

After a few hours, the blue and white plane taxied across Kampala airport runway and the passengers could see camouflaged jeeps occupied by gun-toting soldiers making their way to the plane, finally surrounding it as it came to rest. The door opened and the suffocating heat and smells of green tropical Africa soon encompassed the interior of the plane, and those passengers alighting apprehensively collected their belongings and left. There was silence on the plane; rumours of Idi Amin’s cruel regime in Uganda had been circulating in the world’s press for some time.

The door closed and those who had alighted could be seen being escorted away by the soldiers who seemed to be demonstrating how careless they could be whilst brandishing their automatic weapons.

The door closed, the plane was refuelled, and all on board gave a grateful sigh of relief as it taxied across the runway and took off, quickly leaving behind the coast of mainland Africa and set off across the Indian Ocean towards the ‘Islands of Love,’ the Seychelles.

It had all started some nine months earlier when after twelve years serving in some of the more demanding parts of London, Cricklewood, Hornsey, Tottenham, Hackney, Dalston, and Kings Cross, the opportunity for a secondment abroad arose. Not for Ed, the delights of the more fashionable ‘nicks’ like Gerald Road, Marylebone Lane, or Chelsea. His postings had all been great fun, hard work, and he had learnt a lot about practical policing, but a change was needed. It had been almost a relief when he spotted the ad for a training officer required in Seychelles by the Ministry of Overseas Development.

A quick bit of research was required. He had vaguely heard of Seychelles but that was about all. It was a British Crown Colony (one of the last) consisting of about one hundred and fifty-five tropical islands, some of coral and some of granite, spread in an archipelago, about one thousand miles east of Kenya in the Indian Ocean. Uninhabited until 1768, over thirty of the islands were still uninhabited, and prior to British rule the islands had been under the control of the French who had settled as planters bringing slaves from Africa. After a cursory interview at the Ministry of Overseas Development, a medical and some jabs, Ed was off.

A regular on the flight, who was an agricultural engineer working on the plantations, cheered the other passengers up by telling them that the flight from the coast of Africa to Seychelles was interesting in that there was a point of no return in the journey. Apparently, if the plane could not land for any reason in Seychelles, once the plane had reached that point there would be insufficient fuel to enable it to return to any other airport. He then tried to reassure his audience by saying that Seychelles, being out of the monsoon belt, was one of those places in the world that rarely had bad weather.

The time passed quickly, and the plane was soon circling the main island, Mahé. Looking down, it appeared to be very hilly and cloaked in tropical green. A brilliant blue translucent sea, through which coral of many colours could be seen, encompassed the beaches. In some places, surf was breaking on the reefs, providing an outer ring to the island. The new international airport had been built by the British as a build-up to independence that was just around the corner. Few international flights used the airport, but it had been built to international standards, even including some very shiny red fire engines that could be seen parked nearby. The runway was brilliant white, which Ed learnt later was because the concrete contained a high percentage of crushed coral. Planes always landed and climbed from the airport over the sea. The effect of the heat rising from the blinding white caused planes to violently climb as they tried to land from over the darkness of the sea. All very interesting!

The emergency plan to deal with a plane falling off the runway into the sea consisted of someone ringing up the commodore of the local yacht club, who would then proceed to ring up his members who were in various parts of the island. They would then proceed to the club and sail their vessels, some four or five miles to affect any possible rescue. Fortunately, the plan had yet to be put into operation.

The plane landed safely, and the door was soon opened to let in the suffocating heat of the hottest time of the Seychelles year. The temperature varied a few degrees during the year, but never much below twenty-five degrees centigrade with high humidity. Passengers were told to remain in their seats whilst a local official walked the length of the plane, spraying all with an aerosol containing an anti-mosquito disinfectant. Although Seychelles, at certain times of the year,