KD Rahmat F24 – the museum ship

If the recent exchanges of emails between a reader of UPBB and the scribe can be construed as an indication that (KD) Rahmat will be preserved as a museum, then very soon she will be officially opened to the public. Whether she will be as majestic as (HMS) Victory that had withstood the test of time or as pathetic as (KD) Sri Trengganu that is slowly but surely turning into a heap of ‘scrap metal’, only time will tell!
  
Not that I am against the idea of preserving our ships, but the very thought of witnessing the neglect and the disgraceful state of Sri Trengganu, I couldn’t help but wonder if the RMN has the know-how of conserving its heritage. Or it just couldn’t care less!

Incidentally, from 1968 to 1969, I was a crew of KD Sri Trengganu, the first RMN vessel preserved as a museum, and I was also a crew – from 1975 to 1976 – of the second museum ship – KD Rahmat.
 
When, on 3rd June 2010, I set foot on the only place accessible to visitors – the upper deck of Sri Trengganu – there were none of the nostalgic pride of being part of her history. Instead, there were those strange feelings of loathe, disgust and apathy born out of sadness – sad in seeing the neglect heaped upon a tiny vessel that had, for over three decades, served the RMN well.
 
There is not an iota of doubt about KD Sri Trengganu’s worth to the RMN – during and after the Indonesian Confrontation. In the 14 months that I was onboard, unlike KD Rahmat, KD Sri Trengganu spent more time at sea than berthing at the MBJ, braving the unpredictable swells of the Straits of Malacca, the turbulence of the South China Sea, and the unforgiving weather off the coast of Sabah and Sarawak – just for one simple reason: to protect Malaysian shores from undesirable elements.

But what had the RMN do in return?

Sri Trengganu is subjected to the mercy of the weather, to rot high and dry on the cradle among the trees in the so called RMN Museum Melaka! If that’s how the expressions of gratitude looked like, then we can expect similar fate to befall the ill-conceived (KD) Rahmat.
 
As we are well aware, the hull that is rusting in Lumut is a mere shadow from the ‘dream’ frigate that she was supposed to be. While other navies were moving forward by transforming their outdated vessels from conventional weaponry to the latest missile technology, RMN was content to let KD Rahmat stagnate in the backwaters, or worst still; to move backwards. Instead of finding ways and means to optimize the potency of the subsonic SEACAT missiles, it decided to take an easy way out by discarding them and regressed to conventional weaponry.

With that in mind, I wonder how will the mercenary writers conjure stories to camouflage the sad history of KD Rahmat – from its delayed birth in Glasgow to its demise in Lumut? Or will the museum operator be brave enough to relate the true story – the endless nightmare of the state-of-the-art frigate that never was?

Reading between the lines the content of an email that I received sometime in June this year, and is appended herewith, it does not take a genius to predict how the write up will be:

“Thanks for your stories….more information for us in the studio to digest! sigh… the more we get stories from ex sailors, the less stories we can put out to the public as most of them have a negative tone. BUT, we will try our best to make Rahmat look good, from marketing point of view – not the scrap-metal looking thing floating in Lumut now. Haha”.

Be that as it may, and whatever stories conjured by the spin doctors, I will still take time off to visit her if the operator could really turn (KD) Rahmat into the ‘dream’ museum.

How does one envisage a dream museum-ship? 
 
“Everything that you find inside an operating submarine is there: torpedoes, diesel engines, periscopes, pumps, gyro compass, underwater listening devices, radio and radar gear, plus a bewildering array of gages, indicators and hand wheels. It all works, and periodically the Museum kicks the main diesels over for a few revolutions under their own power.”

The above (and below) write up were about U-505, the German submarine captured by the US Navy during the Second World War, and was subsequently preserved as a museum-ship. Compare that with the current state of (KD) Sri Trengganu; not only was she left to rot on the cradle as an eyesore, but the parts and equipment that were supposed to be an integral part of the boat had either been vandalized or were missing.

“The crew’s spaces, officer’s quarters and captain’s cabin, have the bunks all made up ready for the off duty watch to turn in. The galley range is ready to cook the next meal and pots, pans and crockery are all in their proper places. An official U-boat chart and pencils supplied from Germany are laid out on the Navigator’s table under the ship’s clock which still runs. If her former crew could walk aboard today, they would feel completely at home, and might even get her underway again if they could break her loose from the concrete cradles among the trees.”
 
What does the above paragraph imply?

Simply said, visitors are allowed to go below deck and visit every nook and corner of the boat, to see and reflect on the living conditions of sailors from a bygone era.

As ex crew of KD Sri Trengganu and KD Rahmat, I yearned for the day when I could again step below deck, sit on the bunks where we used to sit, and recollect those moments of sharing the joys and sorrows, the agony and ecstasy with friends, most of them might not have the opportunity to be there, and some of them may have departed.

Will it ever materialize, or will the operator of (KD) ‘Rahmat the museum’ abandon her upon realizing that the returns failed to meet the projected bottom line?

Then what?

(KD) Rahmat will be on her way of replicating the fate of (KD) Sri Trengganu.