Sri Lanka’s recorded history dates back to around 500 BCE when Sinhalese settlers from Northern India established kingdoms and adopted Buddhism. Later, Tamil and Dravidian peoples from South India arrived, speaking Tamil, practicing Hinduism, and eventually forming lasting kingdoms in the north. Today, Sinhalese make up about 75% of the population, while Tamils account for around 18%.
The Portuguese arrived in 1505, followed by the Dutch in 1656, and finally the British in 1796. Each colonial power controlled the profitable coastal regions, while the highland Kingdom of Kandy held out until 1815. Following that, the British took control of the entire island and reshaped the economy around plantation agriculture, initially with coffee and later with tea by the 1870s. To do so, they brought in Tamil labourers from India and built railways and roads designed to serve the empire’s bottom line.
Then, on October 4, 1900, the S.S. Bezwada docked in Colombo, Ceylon’s bustling port city, carrying Karl Creelman labouring as a hostler.
Back then, Colombo was a critical hub on the route from Australia to the Suez Canal and the gateway to India. Colombo is perched about midway along the island’s west coast. Though small—about the size of Ireland—Sri Lanka rises from palm-fringed beaches and lush coastal plains to misty highlands, topped by Mount Pedro, its tallest peak at 2,524 meters (8,281 feet).
In 1900, Colombo’s artificial harbour was a feat of British engineering, protected by two massive breakwaters (the main one stretching more than 5 km) and regularly dredged to accommodate ever-larger ships. These kinds of grand imperial projects, designed for commerce, control, and efficiency, were the pride of the empire.
The port offered essential services: steamship refuelling, fresh water and food for sailors (and horses), repairs, cargo handling, and transfers for both goods and passengers.
In his letter to the Truro News, dated November 15, 1900, Karl described the port this way:
“Colombo, the main port of Ceylon, is the coaling place for a dozen different lines of steamers, plying between Australia and the East, and Europe. The harbour is an artificial one - a fine stone breakwater, over which the surf dashes with great violence, sending the spray right over into the smooth water beyond, being built by the Imperial Government, to make a good anchorage for the enormous shipping of the ports. Inside the breakwater are hundreds of native boats “Catamarans” or “Compans”, narrow boats with ten feet of a coconut palm fastened about, six feet off one side, by means of two stays, which keep it through the water with great speed by the Singalese, when carrying a passenger ashore from some steamer lying off the wharf.”
Three lascars aboard the ‘Viceroy of India’ (1929), standing at the helm of one of the ship’s tenders.
Source: Waterline Collection, National Maritime Museum, London.
But after 26 gruelling days tending 230 horses from 4 a.m. to 8:30 p.m., Karl was “done with ship life”. When they docked, he was keen to get on land and explore Ceylon.
Before stepping ashore, Karl caught sight of a German warship preparing to leave Colombo, packed with troops heading for China and the Boxer Rebellion. He hurried to feed the horses first, passing a group of 8 to 10 sailors eating curry and rice on deck. But in a twist of misfortune, he tripped, sending a bucket of the bran he was carrying for the horses landing in their dinner.
“They naturally got angry,” Karl wrote, “and seizing their clasp knives the crowd of them made a rush for me, chasing me all the way down into the hold of the ship, where we ran into some of the Europeans aboard, who told the Lascars to ‘Towe’ and they did ‘move on’ quite quickly.”
Lascars were sailors, primarily from India and Southeast Asia, who worked on European ships from the 16th century onward. Most came from coastal regions of Gujarat, Malabar, and Bengal, taking roles as deckhands, engine workers, and cooks. They were essential to maritime trade but deeply underpaid, earning just 8–9 shillings per week.
The Lascars also endured brutal working conditions, especially in sweltering engine rooms, where it was believed that they could withstand these hot environments better than their European counterparts. Shipping companies made large profits from this cheaper labour while subjecting lascars to discrimination and poor treatment throughout the imperial maritime hierarchy.
You can picture it, can’t you, dear reader?
A young man, thousands of miles from Nova Scotia, was finally free of mucking out horse stalls and eager to explore a place he'd only read about. And within minutes, he’s being chased below deck, dodging sailors with knives, all because of an ill-fated bucket of bran.
But Karl, as always, kept going. He brushed off the chaos, fed the horses, and stepped ashore.
Ceylon awaited.
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