It is not confirmed that there was a Malayali Nair on the Titanic, but
there were at least 10 passengers of Indian origin on board when it sank in
1912.

The misconception about a "Malayali Nair" on the Titanic may come from the
story of the MV Kairali, a ship from Kerala that disappeared in 1979. The
MV Kairali is often referred to as the "Titanic of Kerala," which could be
the source of the confusion.

Titanic Survivors - Names of all passengers and crew that survived

A comprehensive list of the 712 people to survive the Titanic disaster in
1912 with links to their personal life story.

https://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/titanic-survivors/  shows list of 712
mwembers who survived list which has 12 indians based in England but does
not have any Malayali or Nayar name. KR IRS 261025

On Sun, 26 Oct 2025 at 14:17, R V Rao <[email protected]> wrote:

> *Nair’s Titanic, 1912*
> By Somalatha
>
> At first, I laughed. A Malayali on the Titanic? It sounded like one of
> those WhatsApp family legends where someone’s “great-uncle met Gandhi at a
> railway station.”
> But my mother looked up from her crossword and said, “Ah yes, he was on
> that ship.” Just like that as if she were talking about a bus to Ernakulam.
>
> Then she told me the story.
>
> Raman Nair was from Kozhikode, born in 1886, when the British Raj was
> still painting maps red. He grew up near the Beypore shipyard, where the
> Uru boats were built by hand. He started as a dock boy and learned his
> English from Irish engineers who cursed more than they spoke.
>
> In 1911, he signed a Lascar Agreement in Bombay — a colonial labour
> contract that shipped Indian seamen to work on British liners. The pay was
> twelve shillings a month. The recruiter had promised, “Plenty of food, no
> storms.”
>
> By January 1912, Raman had been assigned to the RMS Olympic as a greaser —
> one of the men who kept the ship’s engines oiled and running. His name
> still appears faintly in the Board of Trade Register No. 104993
> (Southampton) under “R. Nair,” nationality: Indian (Malabar).
>
> When Titanic prepared for her maiden voyage that April, crew shortages
> were common. Several Olympic hands were transferred — Raman among them.
> That’s how a man who barely spoke English found himself below deck in the
> grandest ship ever built.
>
> He probably never saw the chandeliers or the grand staircase. His world
> was the engine room, seventy feet below the surface a hellish cathedral of
> noise, heat, and iron. His duty was simple and endless: to oil the
> crankshafts and keep the pistons cool.
>
> On the night of April 14, 1912, at 11:40 p.m., when the ship brushed the
> iceberg, Raman was off-shift, drinking weak tea in the stoker’s mess. The
> collision sounded, he would later say, “like a coconut breaking.” The alarm
> bells rang, and within minutes the lower decks began to flood.
>
> He helped his mates open watertight doors, guided women up the companion
> ladders, and even lifted a crying Irish child into a lifeboat. He
> remembered the number — Boat No. 13, lowered on the starboard side. He
> never knew her name. He only said, years later, “She had red hair and white
> hands.”
>
> At 2:20 a.m., the ship broke apart. Raman and a few others jumped into the
> sea. He was pulled aboard Collapsible Boat D by a fireman named Barrett one
> of the last survivors rescued by the Carpathia. His name, misspelled as “R.
> Nayar,” appears among the Foreign Crew – Recovered Survivors in the
> Carpathia’s landing log in New York.
>
> He stayed in England for two months, working briefly at the White Star
> Line dock in Liverpool. The company refused to renew his Lascar contract,
> saying his “English was insufficient.” He took the long way home ,Liverpool
> to Port Said, then Aden, then Cochin.
>
> Back in Calicut, he married a quiet girl named Devaki and never spoke much
> about the Atlantic again. When people asked, he would say, “That was a ship
> that would not float.”
> He kept a small glass vial of seawater in a tin trunk — labelled April
> 1912, North Atlantic.
> When my grandmother once asked what it was, he said, “A reminder that even
> oceans can freeze.”
>
> He died in 1957, on a humid June evening, still smelling faintly of oil
> and salt.
>
> And here I am — typing this on a glowing laptop, sipping masala tea, alive
> because one Malayali greaser from Calicut didn’t drown in the North
> Atlantic. If he hadn’t survived, there would be no Amma, no me, no one to
> tell this story.
>
> It’s strange, the arithmetic of life — how one man’s breath in icy water
> can ripple through generations.
>
> When I look at that photograph now, I don’t see a hero. I see a tired man
> in a wool cap who did his job, helped strangers, and made it home. Perhaps
> that’s heroism enough.
>
> And if he could see me today writing his story in English, on a machine
> powered by the same science that sank his ship he would probably chuckle
> and say,
> “Too much pride, too little prayer.”
>
> Nair and his Titanic!
>
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