Today, his life is a blend of reflection and ambition. While he loves regaling everyone with stories from his past, Chew’s bucket list is still vibrant, fuelled by his enduring love for adventure.— ART CHEN/The Star
Septuagenarian seaman Michael Chew embodies resilience, discipline and an undying zest for life – attributes honed from his years as a navy officer. Despite grappling with paralysis at age 73, Chew’s indomitable spirit remains unyielded. His journey from an adventurous young man in the Royal Malaysian Navy to an affable figure in his local community despite the many challenges that have come his way, offers a narrative rich with experiences, challenges and triumphs.
Born in Kuala Kangsar, Perak, Chew’s childhood was a tapestry of varied locales due to his father’s role as a police inspector.
“We moved frequently,” he recalls, “Batu Gajah, Sitiawan, Taiping, Ipoh and finally Kuala Lumpur. I also spent time living with my grandfather in Kuala Lipis. He was the chief clerk of the land office in Pahang. I remember him dressing up like a typical English gentleman with his long-sleeved shirts and crisp cotton trousers back in the 1950s.”
When he came to KL, Chew studied at the Technical Institute KL, even though his strong suit was English, he says. Then in 1969, the young 18-year-old seized an opportunity that would shape his life – training with the Royal Navy in Plymouth, England.
“There was a call to go overseas to get a diploma. I grabbed it, of course. It was a five-year apprenticeship, starting with basic training and naval discipline at HMS Fisgard,” Chew recounts, explaining that despite being enrolled in electrical engineering, Chew and his peers had to master basic batchwork in the workshop, embodying the versatility required of artificer engineers.
A clean shaven Chew, at 21, in his room at HMS Collingwood, RN School of Weapons Electrical Engineering, Portsmouth, UK.Chew’s naval training included a year at sea, offering a unique form of industrial training.
“We sailed around the world,” he reminisces, “from Hong Kong to Japan, then back to Singapore.” His ship, HMS Scylla, was pivotal during this period, with voyages extending to Western Australia and the Beira blockade of Rhodesia. The experience was a profound learning curve, both professionally and personally. The next two years were spent back in college at HMS Collingwood in Portsmouth.
“I jumped one term, shortening my stay in England by a few months, a decision I later regretted!” Chew chuckles as he reminisces. “Those were glorious years. I learned to embrace naval traditions.”
These formative years were also a cultural immersion, as he navigated the accents and dialects of his naval counterparts.
“For two weeks when we first arrived, we just nodded and smiled. There were also Nigerians but the rest were Young British lads from all over Britain. They all spoke with different accents and at that time we really didn’t understand a word of what they were saying. There were Brummies from Birmingham, Geordies from Newcastle, Jocks from Scotland, Cockneys from London and they certainly didn’t sound like they were speaking English! We had no inkling of what they were saying. For many of them, it was their first contact with foreigners. This was in 1969 and Britain was certainly less cosmopolitan then,” he says.
“It was also our first introduction to English food – bangers and mash, fish and chips, and pies with soggy green peas. We had steaks for dinner and one Nigerian gentleman poured custard cream on his steak which caused some consternation! They tried to make us Malaysians feel at home by cooking curry and rice sometimes but it was terrible. The curry was sweet and had raisins in it!”
Chew is still in contact with some of his mates who went to HMS Fisgard 55 years ago. He remains active in these informal fortnightly veterans’ meetings, cherishing the bond forged in the navy.
Chew is still in contact with some of his mates who went to HMS Fisgard 55 years ago and they meet up whenever they can for a catch-up.
“We try to meet at least twice a month. Out of my batch of 12, seven have passed away,” he notes solemnly. “So these gatherings are a vital source of connection and support.”
Chew says: “To pass the age of 70 is a big milestone, and if you get a chance to get together to renew your friendship it’s important. The camaraderie is still there. We can talk about everything under the sun.”
This October a Tiffy-do has been scheduled (Tiffy is jackspeak or Naval slang for an artificer), something Chew is looking forward to.
Chew at Looe, Cornwall. Photos: MIKE CHEW
Chew says that while he was undergoing his training in Britain, he received a salary/allowance that amounted to RM170.
“From this amount, I would send home RM90 every month and my mum was so chuffed. Those were the days without any cell phones. If the Post was on strike you wouldn’t hear from your family at all.
“My mother would faithfully send me dried shrimp sambal every term. She would fry the prawns and put it in a jam jar. Every time I got a jar of sambal, all my Malaysian college mates would come and join me for makan,” he says, crediting his mum for her love, diligence, and hard work holding the family together through thick and thin.
Transition to civilian life
After seven years in the Navy, Chew’s career was cut short due to deteriorating hearing. “I was going deaf and had to leave on compassionate grounds,” he explains. Transitioning to civilian life, he joined O’Connors in Singapore as a sales engineer, doubling his naval salary. Chew’s sales acumen soon earned him the moniker “the six million dollar man” for his outstanding performance at work.
His new role provided a front-row seat to Singapore’s rapid industrialisation.
“I saw Singapore transform into one of the world’s biggest shipbuilders,” he says. Selling gyro compasses and marine equipment to shipyards, Chew’s career flourished, enabling him to buy a house within three years of leaving the navy.
Chew’s life is peppered with colourful anecdotes and adventures. From hitchhiking 7,000km across Europe to his lasting friendship with friend and colleague “Whisky Maniam” to meeting and dating Malaysian nurses in London – his stories are a testament to his adventurous spirit.
“I used to ride a Lambretta 150cc from Portsmouth to London,” he recalls fondly, “and even drove all the way up to Manchester during the rough winter to see my foster parents.”
His adventures extended to his professional life as well. “In Singapore, I designed and manufactured emergency highway telephones and installed comms systems on naval vessels throughout Asia,” he says. His work took him to remote schools in Sabah, where he installed solar systems. “In Sabah, we lived rough, ate simple, but always had beer and tapai.”
Chew’s resilience was severely tested when the father of three boys suffered a stroke at 66. “I drove myself to the hospital, and an MRI confirmed two small blocks,” he recounts. Despite the prognosis, Chew’s spirit remained unbroken. “I was in bed for six months, but I kept fighting. I’m 73 now, and what else can I do but keep going?”
Rehabilitation has been a slow journey, but Chew remains positive.
“These days, I can use some of my left side, but very slowly,” he admits. He routinely makes it a point to clock in 10,000 steps around the Padang Asam park in SS14, Subang Jaya were he lives with his wife Shelly and son Keith who has Down syndrome. Once an avid sportsman and diver, he still has the drive and determination to keep mobile and stay healthy.
Chew’s military background and disciplined upbringing have been crucial in maintaining his optimism. “I think my positivity comes from my upbringing. We did not have an easy life, but it made my brothers and I very self-sufficient.”
Chew’s resilience was severely tested when the father of three boys suffered a stroke at 66.
Legacy of positivity
Today, his life is a blend of reflection and ambition. While he loves regaling everyone with stories from his past, Chew’s bucket list is still vibrant, fuelled by his enduring love for adventure.
“I want to take the train from Vladivostok through Mongolia to Moscow, just to taste the food along the way,” he says. His passion for diving, though curtailed by his health, still burns brightly.
“I had always wanted to dive down to the HMS Repulse and Prince of Wales in Kuantan. It’s still a dream.”
Chew’s story is a testament to the power of resilience, discipline and a positive outlook. From his formative years in the Royal Navy to his challenging battle with paralysis, his life is a beacon of hope and inspiration.
“Life goes on,” he says with a smile, “you shouldn’t let spending time with people you care for be postponed.”
