Far from Home, Relics of a Ship Long Gone: The Lifeboats of Havrim

 

Far from Home, Relics of a Ship Long Gone: The Lifeboats of Havrim

A few weeks ago, I went on a birding trip with friends to Mamachi Wadi, a beach in Virar about 50 km north of Mumbai. This quiet stretch of coast lies just north of the more touristy Arnala Beach, which faces the Isle of Arnala—home to an old Portuguese fort. 

Our birding spot included mangroves, small creeks, and a pond dotted with lovely water lilies. Scattered around were small houses and flower farms that supply blooms to the Mumbai markets. 

Small houses with gardens that grow flowers

    Water lilies in bloom 

A narrow road led about a kilometer further down to the beach, a haven for hundreds of waterbirds that we had come to watch and photograph.

On the way, a small creek caught my attention. Several boats were pulled up along its clay banks. At first, I only glanced at them, distracted by a bird that had just flown across the water. But something about those boats stayed with me—they looked quite different from the fishing boats usually seen in such places. Painted a bright orange, they had unusual shapes compared to the regular wooden boats common to the coast.

The narrow creek on whose banks were these orange life boats 

On a closer look, I noticed one of them bore an inscription near the prow: Havrim Oslo. The name intrigued me. I took a few photos, planning to examine them later since our main purpose that morning was birding.

The next day, while reviewing the photos, I realized these might be lifeboats from a ship—and sure enough, that turned out to be true. I confirmed this with a cousin who has spent his entire career in the shipping industry. He recognized them as old lifeboats, now outdated but unmistakably of maritime origin.

Curious, I turned to the internet for more information. What I found was fascinating.

HAVRIM was an LPG tanker built in 1980 by Cantieri Navale Breda Spa in Venice, Italy. The ship measured 197 meters in length, 29 meters in breadth, and had a gross tonnage of 26,207 tons. It could carry 37,348 cubic meters of liquefied petroleum gas in four main tanks. Its unique IMO (International Maritime Organization) number was 7640201.

Starboard view of Havrim showing an orange life boat on davits.

Port side (left) view showing the second enclosed lifeboat.

The vessel was originally named Smolny and owned by Ukrainian interests until August 1994, when it was sold to Partrederiet Havrim DA, based in Oslo, Norway, and renamed Havrim. In 1996, the company merged with Bergesen Worldwide Gas ASA, also from Oslo, and the ship continued in service until 2009. That year, it was sold “as scrap” in Singapore for USD 280 per ton. The ship was subsequently re-registered in Funafuti, the capital of Tuvalu, and renamed Rim for its final voyage to Alang, Gujarat—where it was broken up in April 2009.

The Lifeboats

The bright orange boat with a domed top is a totally enclosed lifeboat—a standard feature on tankers and LPG carriers from the late 1970s onwards. Such lifeboats are designed to protect passengers from fire, heat, and gas emissions, and are mandatory on vessels carrying flammable cargo. (It appears that part of its top may have been removed later.)

The open boats beside it seem to be rescue or workboats rather than primary survival boats. The enclosed lifeboat’s hull and canopy are made of fiberglass-reinforced plastic, while markings on one of the open boats indicate a capacity of 50 persons. This suggests that Havrim likely carried two enclosed lifeboats—one on each side of the ship—and smaller rescue boats capable of holding six to ten people each.

How these boats ended up in an isolated creek in Virar remains a mystery. Since the mother ship was scrapped at Alang in 2009, it’s likely that its lifeboats and other fittings were auctioned off to local buyers. Perhaps someone from this area acquired them for use or storage. That question still awaits an answer—and perhaps another visit to Mamachi Wadi will reveal more.

What amazed me most, though, was finding these unusual relics in such a tranquil, hidden corner of the coast—an unexpected discovery during what was meant to be an ordinary day of birding.

A Morning Among Birds

It would be remiss not to mention the wonderful sightings we enjoyed that day. In the hinterland, we watched a Jacobin cuckoo gorging on caterpillars, preparing for its long journey back to Africa.

 Jacobin cuckoo (pied crested cuckoo)

A peacock pansy butterfly dazzled us with its brilliant orange and brown hues, and a black paddy field skimmer—a type of dragonfly—posed patiently in the sunlight for photographs.

Peacock Pansy butterfly

                                               Paddyfield skimmer (dragonfly)

Down on the beach, a lone curlew with its long, curved beak wandered along the tide line, while flocks of plovers created a mesmerizing spectacle as they darted and wheeled above the surf.

Eurasian curlew with its oversize beak.

It was a serene and rewarding morning of birding—made even more memorable by the serendipitous discovery of those lifeboats. They remain silent witnesses to a ship that once sailed the world’s oceans and, even in retirement, continue to tell their story far from home.