Just the waves for company

Each morning hundreds of undergraduates pour into the Mill Lane Lecture Rooms. Many exchange a friendly smile with Ivan Waghorn, custodian of the building. None, however, are likely to be aware of the extraordinary series of events that took place in Ivan’s life when he was their age. Almost half a century ago, he played a part in an episode of 20th century history that almost cost him his life, and for which he and many other former servicemen have now been recognised with an award from the Malaysian government.

It was August 1962 when Ivan, then a 19-year-old Able Seaman in the Royal Navy, boarded the frigate HMS Loch Fada and set sail from Portsmouth to the Far East. Their destination was Singapore, and their mission was to give military support to the Malayan government in its confrontation with Indonesia over the future of the island Borneo. Until 1957, Malaya was a British colony, as were two states of Borneo – Sarawak and Sabah. Brunei, another state within the island, was a British protectorate until 1984.

Now widely known as Konfrontasi, the conflict between Malaya and Indonesia was an undeclared war that took place deep in the forests of Borneo within areas accessible only by river or by helicopter. The situation was complicated by a communist insurgency: left-wing cells with their roots in the local urban Chinese communities supported the unification of former British territories in Borneo to form an independent state. Britain and other major world powers were keen to quash the rise of communism.

Not surprisingly, the details of the politics of the Far East were hazy to Ivan, who was just 15 when he joined the Navy. He and his comrades aboard the Loch Fada had little idea of where they were going or why. “We were simply carrying out orders and doing our job,” he says.

After a couple of months on standby in Singapore, Ivan, a small group of seamen, and an officer in charge were sent to a village of wooden huts on stilts on the banks of a river deep inside Sabah in north-east Borneo. Their role was to transport groups of Royal Marines and Gurkhas from HMS Loch Fada up the muddy, snake-infested rivers, and drop them at points where they could carry out patrols to deter the insurgents from attacking the local villages.

Communication was by means of radio and manoeuvres were overseen from Loch Fada, which was anchored out in Tawau Bay. “We were using small, local craft known as long boats that were fitted with outboard engines. Each boat was manned by three Navy personnel and carried patrols of six soldiers plus all their equipment. The three of us would take turns to be coxswain, crew and bow.”

For several weeks, everything went smoothly. Then, on 23 February 1963, what should have been a routine trip between two rivers turned into a nightmare for Ivan and two friends.

“There was a sudden rainstorm and the wind blew up. The water became choppy and the sky turned dark. The boat was overwhelmed by a wave and started to sink. I undid the harness that held my gun and kicked off my boots. My comrades and I should have lashed ourselves together but we didn’t and we were quickly separated,” he says.

The sinking long boat had been spotted from the decks of Loch Fada and rescue crafts were sent out to search for the three men. Darkness fell. Ivan’s comrades were picked up within two hours of the boat’s capsize – but Ivan was not found. Unaware of any rescue attempts, or the whereabouts of his friends, he spent the night floating alone in the sea, relying on the natural buoyancy provided by his thick navy uniform.

After an unbearably long night, dawn came and Ivan spotted a log. “It had several sea snakes lying across it – and I really don’t like snakes. I also knew they were poisonous. But I made myself get hold of it as I didn’t have the strength needed to carry on. After a while the snakes disappeared.” 

As the sea calmed Ivan could see the tops of trees on the shore and the shape of the Loch Fada on the horizon. The sense of powerlessness – and the knowledge that he could die within sight of the ship – was something impossible to describe in words.

“When something like this happens you go into a kind of heightened state and lose track of time. Your life runs before you like a film. There’s an exhilaration that is fuelled by adrenalin and the incredibly strong drive to survive.”

Soon after midday, and after 18 hours in the water, Ivan heard a helicopter, and then watched as it flew between the Loch Fada and the shore several times, dropping off groups of men. Suddenly it made a diversion to where he was floating and he knew that he had been found. A wire was lowered down to him and he was winched up to safety and flown to a hospital in the town of Tawau where groups of local people gathered to see him being helped from the helicopter.

“My skin was wrinkled and peeling off after spending so long in the sea water. I was totally drained, physically and mentally. When I was transferred from hospital to the sick bay on the Loch Fada, the two lads I’d been capsized with burst through the door. They were so glad to see me alive. Once I was back on duty I went to find the helicopter pilot, and he said that the person who deserved my thanks was his co-pilot who spotted me in the water. They weren’t even looking for me any longer, which I found really shocking. I owe my life to him and to the fact that the water was warm.”

Ivan’s posting in the Far East came to an end on 22 November 1963, the day that President Kennedy was assassinated. He remained in the Navy until 1988, serving on destroyers, minesweepers and stores ships, before being transferred to the Royal Fleet Auxiliary. In the late 1980s he took a job as site manager at Sawston Village College, south of Cambridge, moving to his present job at the University 12 years ago.

In 1968 British servicemen who had served in Borneo were awarded campaign medals by the British government. In 2006 the Malayasian government decided to recognise the thousands of servicemen from the UK, Australia and New Zealand who had come to their aid between August 1957 and August 1966. The task of tracing this number of people, scattered throughout the world, was huge. Ivan finally received the Pingat Jasa Malaysia medal in January this year.

The award means a tremendous amount to Ivan and many others around the world. He says: “A long time has passed since all this happened, and I find it hard to recall the exact sequence of events. However, what I have retained is the sense that we were there to help others far from home, risking our lives as young people. So the fact that the Malaysian government chose to recognise us in this way is a wonderful thing – and a very rare move from an overseas government.”

As for his time at Cambridge, he says: “I am now approaching retirement, and I have loved my time working at the University. The quality of the education that students get, especially the one-to-one teaching, is something I never appreciated. I get to meet lots of top people who come to give lectures here. There’s nothing aloof about any of them, and the fact that I get along with them all makes my job a real pleasure.”

Ivan has now left the University. We wish him the very best for the future.