Si Pangasi, an elderly Bajo man aged around 75 in 1995, recalled a series of events that led to an encounter with British airmen from a plane which crashed on Seringapatam Reef in 1936.
I was one of the crew on the perahu Si Gambar Bulan. At that time I had just been circumcised. I was still single, still young. My older brother, Si Tuba, was the captain and Si Tedong was the owner of the perahu. There were ten crew: Pangasi, Tuba, Tedong, Tidong, Jalating, Balating, Kaling, Amang, Nappa and Mpeno. Balanting is still alive and lives in Sampela. Tedong lives in Desa Bisaya, near Lasalimu in Buton. He moved there during the gerombolan [Kahar Muzakkar rebellion]. Mpeno lives in Mola Selatan. Jalating was lost [drowned] at Ashmore Reef.
From Mantigola we sailed to Kupang, actually to Air Cina, to the south of Kupang. We spent three days there then sailed to Ashmore Reef, then to Seringapatam Reef [Sapa Taringan]. We ate birds’ eggs on Ashmore Reef. At that time, Buton people were not yet living in Pepela and Roti people sailed sekoci [a type of canoe] with layar leti leti [lateen rig]. There were Bajo living in Oenggai [on Roti Island], but not at Sulamu [Kupang].
We went to Seringapatam Reef to catch fish, not trepang, to salt it, to sell in Makassar. At that time we sold the fish for 4½ ringgit a kilo. The method of fishing is called ngambai, using nets and ropes. The nets were made from tree bark [bagu], with floats on the top and cowrie shells on the bottom, held in place with wooden stakes. Seringapatam Reef is one day and one night’s sail from Scott Reef. Taringan is the name of a fish [dayah taringan], found in great quantities at this reef. There is no island or sand there, just reef.
While we were fishing at low tide, we saw a plane run out of petrol and fall out of the sky and land on the reef. Four people from the plane walked over the reef to where we were fishing and asked for help to take them to Kupang. So we took them to Kupang on our perahu and on the way we met a big ship, a foreign ship, with a motor, coming from the south. The people hailed the ship and boarded it and the ship returned to Australia. It was still Dutch times, maybe five years before Japan invaded Indonesia.
When we later returned to Kaledupa, the captain received a letter telling him to go to Bau Bau to get a reward and letter for all the crew, 40 ringgit for each crew and 90 ringgit for the captain. It was my second time sailing, the first time to Ashmore Reef, the second time the plane crashed. I did not go again after that.
Si Gambar Bulan was a perahu with a chaired stern [pantat kadera] and a central rudder with gaff rig [lama cangking], made from cloth. This was before gunter rig [lama sande]. Si Gambar Bulan was built by Tedong in Mantigola but he sold it before he moved to Bisaya.
This account indicates that Mantigola Bajo sailing voyages and fishing activity in the Timor Sea were clearly commercial ventures. This particular voyage is vividly recalled by Si Pangasi and other Bajo because of the extraordinary event that interrupted their fishing activity. [10]
Si Mpeno, who was born in Mantigola and is first cousin to Si Pangasi, described the relations between the Bajo rescuers and the plane crew in more detail.
We took the men on our perahu. We had to use sign language, pointing with our fingers, they only knew one word — Kupang. The strange thing was, if they wanted to lie down, they didn’t go inside [the cabin], they only lay on the deck. They felt sick because of the smell of the fish, and it’s true the fish smelt rotten. They gave us binoculars. When they spotted the ship, they waved at it with pieces of cloth. The ship approached, and they talked with the people on it, then boarded the ship. We received a reward later from Bau Bau.
Another elderly Bajo man, La Ode Ndoke, who lives in Mola Selatan but was born in Mantigola, went on his first trip to Australian waters as a crew member on another gaff-rigged perahu called Asia which accompanied Si Gambar Bulan on the journey to Ashmore Reef.
When the plane crashed, we [Asia] were at North Scott Reef [Haring Utara] and they [Si Gambar Bulan] were at Seringapatam Reef. We were quite a long way from Seringapatam Reef. The first time we saw the plane it was flying in our direction and we thought it was going to land. But maybe because they still had a lot of fuel, the plane kept going and headed in the direction of Kupang. Not long after that, the plane fell and landed on the west side of Seringapatam Reef, near to Si Gambar Bulan. At the moment the plane fell, we didn’t see it because it was too far away, but our friends who were closer saw the plane fall. Then the crew of the plane joined Si Gambar Bulan and halfway through the journey to Kupang the crew were taken on board a big ship. We went to have a look at the plane afterwards and measured the wingspan — it was 8 depa [fathoms] long. The frame of the plane is still there to this day. After the time I encountered the plane, I went to Ashmore Reef and Scott Reef twice, so I have been three times. After that I had a rest [from sailing] for a long time, then afterwards I worked as a romusa [involuntary labourer] on the roads in Buton for the Japanese.
This account provides an approximate location of the remaining wreckage of the plane at Seringapatam Reef. La Ode Ndoke went on to explain that the Bajo from Mantigola sailed all the way to Ashmore Reef, Scott Reef, and Seringapatam Reef in the past to fish because
At Scott Reef there is a lot of fish — there is more fish at Scott Reef than there is at Kaledupa Reef. There are no enemies or competitors there, it is possible to get between 1½ and 3 tonnes of fish in one trip.
Si Pangasi, Si Mpeno, and La Ode Ndoke were unclear about the nationality of the plane crew, but another surviving member of Asia’s crew, Si Kiramang, thought they were from England. Mpeno and Si Panghasi could not remember much about the letter and reward, but another informant, Si Badolla, who was a young boy at the time and not actually involved in the rescue, vividly recalls this episode:
Between Ashmore Reef and Kupang the ship came, they took the men and Si Gambar Bulan did not have to continue to Kupang. Only they said to the Bajo ‘wait in Kupang’. But they went home to Kaledupa. One month later there was a letter from Bau Bau. The letter was from Australia. They were ordered to go to Bau Bau to receive their reward. In the contents of the letter it was written 3000 ringgit. But they only received 300 ringgit because the amount had been reduced because of all the offices the letter passed through, from Java to Makassar and to Bau Bau. Maybe if they had waited in Kupang they would have received more and maybe they would have been given a surat bebas [free/open letter], but instead it went through Bau Bau. It was already a lot less. I saw the letter, but it was written in English. We didn’t know what it said, we only understood the numbers.
Si Badolla’s recollection of the size of the reward diverges from that of Pangasi. Si Badolla also thought that if the crew of Si Gambar Bulan had stopped at Kupang on the way back to Mantigola, they may have received a larger reward and a surat bebas — a letter stating the Bajo had permission to fish freely at offshore reefs and islands in the Timor Sea and in Australian waters as part of the reward for their rescue efforts.
Si Bilaning, who was also living in Mantigola at the time, put these seemingly unrelated events into the context of the current Bajo political situation:
After the Bajo went with Tuan Robin to Marege [Australia], many Bajo used to sail to Ashmore Reef, Scott Reef, Seringapatam Reef; they would catch fish with nets [ngambai] and also take all kinds of sea products. At that time we used perahu soppe and perahu lambo, with sails made from tree bark, in the model of lama tanja [fore-and-aft tilted rectangular sail]. In former times the Bajo were free to fish there [dulu bebas], until later times when it became forbidden [nanti sekarang dilarang]. When the plane fell from the sky, the crew were taken to Kupang, but before arriving a big ship came and took the crew. The King of England [Raja Inggris] sent a letter to Kupang but the Government of Kupang sent it on to Bau Bau. Then after we met with the plane, fishing at Ashmore Reef, Scott Reef and Seringapatam Reef was not forbidden. It was free to catch fish [bebas menangkap ikan].
The type of sail (lama tanja) described by Si Bilaning is the same as that described by Si Mbaga earlier, and was the traditional sail plan used on perahu before the adoption of the Western-style gaff rig. Si Bilaning’s comment that the letter was from the King of England was most likely a reference to official British or Commonwealth insignia. His account builds on the ideas expressed by Si Badolla about freedom to fish. The period following the rescue of the plane crew is perceived as one of relative freedom to fish the reefs in the Timor Sea, and the Bajo interpreted the letter in this light. The period of restrictions, when fishing became ‘forbidden’ (nanti sekarang dilarang), began in the early 1970s. These statements are made over and over again by Bajo in conversation about past fishing activities, and are part of a narrative invoked to legitimise their right to fish in an area that has come under increasing Australian control.
A second version of the plane crash story can be obtained from archival records and newspaper reports. The 1930s was an era of major developments in aviation, numerous attempts were made to break records for long-distance flying, and these were regularly reported in the newspapers of the day. In July and August 1936, Lord William Francis Sempill twice attempted a record flight from London to Australia in a Monospar Croydon airliner, but failed because of engine troubles and damage to the aircraft (The Argus, 8 October 1936). He then gave the aeroplane to another pilot, Mr H. Wood, who successfully flew from London to Melbourne in September 1936 with a crew comprising Mr F. Crocombe (designer), Mr L. Davies (engineer) and Mr C. Gilroy (wireless operator). They then attempted to break the return Melbourne-to-London record of 5 days and 15 hours, departing Melbourne on the morning of 6 October in a blaze of publicity and arriving in Darwin that same evening with a time slightly slower than their predecessors (The Argus, 7 October 1936). The Monospar left Darwin for Kupang at 4.50 am on Wednesday 7 October and received wireless bearings from the Royal Australian Air Force base at Darwin until 7.15 am, when wireless contact faded (The Argus, 8 October 1936). The plane was expected to arrive at Kupang by 8.00 am, but by mid morning, when no news had been received of the plane’s arrival, it was initially assumed that the flight must have continued to the limit of its fuel range at Rembang on Java. When no further word was received, the Administrator of the Northern Territory, Colonel R.H. Weddell, ordered the government patrol launch, the Larrakeya, to proceed immediately to a position off the coast of Timor where the last wireless message was thought to have originated (The Argus, 8 October 1936). The Federal Minister for Defence, Sir Archdale Parkhill, asked the Civil Aviation Board to arrange for a Qantas aircraft to undertake a search of the Timor Sea, but it was uncertain when an aircraft would be available, [11] so Prime Minister Lyons sent a telegram later that evening to the British Consul-General at Batavia (Jakarta) requesting that the Dutch Government begin an aerial search and rescue attempt. [12] Two Dutch flying boats were dispatched to Kupang from their base at Surabaya in West Java on Thursday morning and began their search on Friday morning. Meanwhile, the Larrakeya was joined by the Marella, a Dutch government patrol boat based at Kupang, and an S.O.S. was broadcast to ships in the Timor Sea to alert them of the missing aircraft. On the afternoon of Friday 9 October, wireless messages were received by radio stations in Kupang, Darwin and Melbourne from the SS Nimoda, a British cargo steamer bound for Durban, reporting that the airmen had been picked up from a fishing boat near Seringapatam Reef. Their rescue made the front page of The Argus on Saturday morning under the headline ‘Monospar Crew Found Safe, Marooned on Sandbank, Rescued by Native Craft, Now Aboard British Steamer’. The story included the observation that:
although all the resources of modern aircraft and wireless were employed in the search for the missing machine and its occupants, it was left to natives in a fishing smack and a wandering tramp steamer to effect a rescue.
The Argus published a wireless message containing an account of the rescue by Mr Crocombe, the Monospar’s designer, on Monday 12 October.
Misled by wireless bearings from Darwin. Were assured, despite doubt on our part, that the bearings were correct as late as 6.15 am when bad atmospherics made further communication impossible. Course kept after this, but no sign of land. Forced to assume wireless bearings correct, so proceeded further for 30 minutes. Passed over coral reef at 8.00 am. Using reef as base, we reconnoitred in each direction until petrol almost exhausted. Finally proceeded down line of reefs and located native fishing-boat in lagoon. Successfully landed on rock-strewn reef without damage, but in taxi-ing aircraft out of water to higher portion of reef the tail wheel casting was fractured. Ran out wireless aerial and tried to communicate with Koepang and Sourabaya without success, although heard both stations. Managed attract attention of boat. Carried few personal effects, iron rations, and water over one mile to boat, wading through deep rocky pools infested with giant clams and occasional small sharks. Had extreme difficulty making natives understand our plight. Finally persuaded them to take us on board and to head for Koepang. Spent 55 hours on boat on short rations of food and water, and in strong odour of fish and natives. Conditions were cramped. Picked up at 3.30 pm Friday by s.s. Nimoda in weak condition. Personnel magnificent in sharing hardships. Later established aircraft landed on Seringapatam Reef. Picked up by Nimoda 100 miles north-east of reef. Bitterly disappointed untimely end of flight. Machine running perfectly.
The message hardly evokes any gratitude toward the Mantigola Bajo who had been required to stop their fishing activity and sail back to Kupang. In a subsequent interview when the airmen arrived at Durban on 1 November, they said they had used a collapsible rubber boat to carry their personal belongings across the reef to the ‘Malay fishing vessel’ and then ‘it took them five hours to convince the fishermen that they were not making a friendly call but wanted to be taken aboard’ (The Argus, 3 November 1936). After the initial reports there is no further mention or discussion of the ‘natives’ or ‘Malays’ in the newspapers or archival material. Statements by Si Badolla and Si Bilaning about the letter of commendation cannot be confirmed. Despite the number of different Australian and British government officials and offices involved in the search and rescue, it seems most likely that the letter came from the British Consul at Batavia or the Resident at Timor.
Given the newspaper coverage, it is perhaps curious that the incident did not give rise to claims about Malays being engaged in poaching or illegal fishing in the region, of the kind which had previously been made in the 1920s (Bach 1955: 210). One reason may be that in 1936 Seringapatam Reef, unlike Ashmore Reef, was still in international waters. Being a tidal reef awash at high tide, it was defined as part of the continental shelf. Australia only claimed it in 1953.