Raghav Bhattacharya

Raghav stands tall and broad-shouldered, his presence commanding even in silence. His skin carries the warm bronze of long years beneath tropical suns.

His dark hair, worn close, shows the faintest trace of silver at the temples. A neatly kept beard frames his face, accentuating sharp cheekbones and calm, watchful eyes the colour of deep tea.

• Navigation & Seamanship: Exceptional with compass and chart; still keeps a worn sextant in his quarters.
• Maintenance & Repairs: Keeps the boarding house shipshape — literally; every hinge oiled, every rope coil neat.
• Culinary Discipline: Brews strong, spiced tea for the guests at dawn; his masala blend is infamous along the docks.
• Observation: Misses nothing; knows which guest will pay, which will bolt, and which needs a meal before questions.
• Morning Rituals: Begins each day with quiet prayer and a single candle lit before the window facing east.

He dresses plainly but precisely — dark wool coats in winter, linen shirts in summer, sleeves rolled to the forearm as if he still expects to take a rope in hand. Within the private comfort of The Mooring & Mast, however, he often exchanges these for a simple cotton sari wrapped in the Bengali style — a quiet nod to his homeland and a preference for ease rather than display. There is a quiet elegance to him, a composure that makes noise unnecessary.

Born to a Bengali merchant family in Calcutta, Raghav entered maritime service in his late teens. He proved an able seaman and a natural officer, serving aboard several British-Indian merchant vessels before joining Captain William Hawke’s crew. During a voyage in the Bay of Bengal he was accused of consorting with a Kali cult — a false charge born of superstition and fear after a violent mutiny. Forced to flee, he sought refuge aboard Hawke’s ship, where the captain defended him against further accusation.

From that voyage onward the two men’s fates were tied. When Hawke retired to London, Raghav followed. Together they purchased a derelict lodging house in Wapping and rebuilt it as The Mooring & Mast. There, far from the scrutiny of the colonial ports, Raghav found a place where silence was not suspicion but peace.

Raghav is a man of few words and deliberate actions. Where Captain Hawke commands through presence, Raghav governs through steadiness. He has learned that patience can silence a room more effectively than anger. Beneath that calm, however, lies a formidable strength: the kind that endures rather than dominates.

He is deeply loyal to those he trusts, protective to the point of danger when they are threatened. His sense of humour is subtle — dry remarks delivered without the hint of a smile — and his temper, though slow to rise, burns hot when finally provoked. For many of the men who lodge at The Mooring & Mast, he is both caretaker and sentinel: the quiet presence that keeps nightmares, and trouble, at bay.

Among sailors of the East End, Raghav is regarded with a wary respect. Some whisper about his past, others about his temper, but none doubt his fairness. Within Shady Nook, he is the calm to Captain Hawke’s storm — the steady mast that keeps the place upright when the winds of London life blow foul.

To the men who drift through The Mooring & Mast, he represents a kind of strength they rarely see: the strength of a man who has nothing to prove, and no need to shout.

Trivia

• Keeps a small brass idol of the goddess Kali in a drawer, more as remembrance than devotion.
• Never drinks spirits; prefers strong tea mixed with condensed milk.
• Speaks fluent Bengali, English, and passable Hindi.
• Known for saying, “The river takes what it wants. The rest we must keep safe ourselves.”