The next morning the Portland Bill sailed from Columbo and headed north up the coast of India to Bombay. This was a journey of about 1,000 miles so it should take us about five days, apart from lookout duty and a spot of painting, it wasn't too long and I enjoyed the trip, the weather was beautiful and we sailed pretty near the coast and I watched India roll by.
We anchored outside Bombay itself and started a ferry service ashore with the ships boats, we were picking some sailors up who were going home and dropping a few who had to pick other ships up, it was a couple of days before I got ashore.
Bombay was a teeming city, it seemed more crowded even than Hong Kong, there were some beautiful buildings but a lot of squalor, beggars were everywhere and you hardly dare stop for more than a couple of minutes or you would be surrounded by natives either selling or begging. We stuck to the main thoroughfares for safety's sake but the lads decided to see the sights and four of us hired a horse-drawn garry and toured the less salubrious areas. Once such area was the notorious Grant Street, the garry driver told us he wouldn't stop in the street but would drive us straight through. As we went through at a brisk trot we could see on either side of the street, the cages as they were called, these cages were full of beggars and prostitutes screaming out to us as we passed. I was really glad to get to the other end of the street and I think I realised then, that I had seen my lowest point so far of human degradation.
The garry driver took us to a club after this and we paid him off and went in for a good meal followed by a few drinks. It was while drinking after the meal that a well spoken Euro-Asian approached us and after a drink or two asked us if we wanted to go to a party, our ears shot up and as he explained that there would be plenty of girls there- all Eurasian and very select company with dancing etc. We agreed of course and the five of us went off in a garry. As we trotted through the streets of Bombay, he asked for five roupees each off us towards the drinks at the party, we gave him this. The garry pulled up outside a big house behind the Taj Mahal Hotel. The man explained that no-one had arrived yet and he would go in first and tell them we were here. We waited a while for him to return, but decided to go to the house. When we looked in the windows the house was obviously empty, our friend was nowhere to be seen. The only lights in the empty house were a few candles placed near the windows, we had no doubt about it we had been well and truly conned. We all felt a bit ridiculous and travelled back to the harbour in silence. That was the end of my time in Bombay.
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