India's Seaplanes Are Back—But Can They Match The Glamour Of The 1930s?

The lake glimmered beneath the hull, the engines roared to life, and the flying boat rose gently into the Indian sky. In 1938, this was not a scene from a film, but part of a real journey connecting the British Empire—from Southampton to Calcutta—via majestic seaplanes that landed on India’s remote lakes and rivers.

Now, nearly 90 years later, India is preparing to bring back the magic. Under the RCS-UDAN scheme, the Ministry of Civil Aviation is creating 10 new water aerodromes. With SpiceJet planning launches in 2025 and Kerala already testing new aquatic routes, the era of seaplanes is being reborn—not as colonial nostalgia, but as a modern travel revolution.

Flying Boats Across The Empire

Seaplanes are far from a modern novelty in India. Their legacy stretches back to 1938, when the first trans-India flying boat voyage took flight—part of the British Empire’s larger vision to streamline air connectivity across its vast territories.

Rewind to the 1920s, and Imperial Airways was already weaving a complex web of airmail and passenger routes across the globe. However, the journey from Britain to India was an arduous seven-day odyssey, involving a bewildering mix of planes and trains: Croydon to Basel by air, a train to Genoa, a flight to Alexandria, another train to Cairo, and finally a plane to Karachi.

To make the system more efficient, the Empire Air Mail Scheme was launched in 1934. It aimed to provide four to five weekly flights to India but maintaining land aerodromes across the diverse terrain of the Empire proved costly. The solution? Take to the water.

Enter the majestic Short S.23C Class flying boats, each christened with names beginning with “C.” Built by Short Brothers of Rochester, these aircraft epitomised the luxury and scale of British ambition. The flying boat on the inaugural trip to India was called Coogee, registered as G-AEUG—later flying under Qantas as VH-ABC.

On February 17, 1938, Captain Alger piloted the Coogee on a historic journey, exploring an alternate route across India. Touching down on serene lakes and hidden backwaters, this wasn’t just a flight—it was an expedition into the heart of the subcontinent.

A Grand Tour By Air And Water

Step inside one of these flying boats and you’d find a world of opulence: leather recliners, smoking lounges, stowable dining tables, open decks for sundowners, and gourmet meals curated for each leg of the journey. As much a spectacle as a service, the voyage was documented in passenger diaries and published in the Imperial Airways Gazette.

The journey began in Southampton, with the flying boats soaring eastward at dawn. The first stop: Marseille, where the Mediterranean sparkled beneath the hull. Day two brought a descent onto Lake Bracciano, a volcanic lake near Rome. On day three, the route swept over Brindisi, Athens, and then descended onto Lake Mirabella in Crete, followed by a dramatic sea-crossing to Alexandria by dusk.

Day four included a descent over the Nile Delta, a stop on the Sea of Galilee, and a long, shimmering flight over desert lands guided by an oil pipeline to Lake Habbaniyeh, near Baghdad. After an overnight halt at Basra, the plane flew across the Persian Gulf, skimming over the sails of pearl diver dhows off Bahrain, Dubai, and Gwadar, before reaching Karachi, the Gateway to India.

But rather than follow the conventional land-based route to Calcutta, the flying boat took an extraordinary detour—embracing India's hidden lakes and waterways.

It soared above the Thar Desert, descending onto Rajsamand Lake, built in the 17th century by Maharana Raj Singh near Udaipur. There, a meteorological station, fuel depot, post office, and even a royal bungalow were ready to greet passengers. Each letter sent from this station bore the “Kankroli Air” postmark.

From there, the flying boat flew to Gwalior, tracing the silhouette of the city's iconic fort. A light atop the fort flashed the letter “G” for guidance. It then landed on Madhosagar Lake, a hive of activity with Burmah Shell fuellers, wireless operators, and steaming kettles of chai. Mail from here was stamped “Gwalior R.S. Air.”

Next came Allahabad, where passengers lunched at the confluence of the Ganga and Yamuna before lifting off for Calcutta. The journey ended with an opulent stay at the Great Eastern Hotel, a crown jewel of colonial hospitality. The next leg? On to Singapore via Akyab, Rangoon, Bangkok, and Penang.

Every stop was an experience: Hotel de Russie in Rome, Cecil in Alexandria, Raffles in Singapore—offered five-star comfort. Fine wines, five-course meals, luxurious linens, and attentive service awaited at every landing.

Imperial Airways spared no expense, crafting not just a mode of transport but a spectacle of air travel, uniting continents through comfort and ambition.

Back To The Future

India’s current push to revive seaplane operations hopes to blend this legacy of luxury with contemporary goals—regional connectivity, tourism, and sustainability. The UDAN scheme aims to link remote destinations and high-potential tourist sites via water-based runways, easing strain on existing airports and unlocking new economic opportunities.

But beyond the economics lies a larger question: can modern seaplanes recapture the grandeur, romance, and vision of their predecessors? The flying boats of the 1930s weren’t just aircraft—they were floating palaces, curated for storytelling, cultural connection, and wonder.

To match that golden era, today’s operators must do more than connect dots on a map. They must revive a spirit of imagination, where the journey matters as much as the destination. Experiences must be crafted, not just scheduled.

If done right, India’s modern seaplanes could bridge islands, rivers, and remote towns with a style and flair that sets them apart from conventional air travel.

As new routes take shape and the soft hum of propellers returns to lakes, rivers, and coastlines, one hopes the soul of the flying boat—its elegance, adventure, and promise of discovery—takes flight once more.

Only time will tell whether this revival will soar into the future or remain a fleeting echo of an extraordinary past.

(Dev Mehta is an INSOL Fellow, holds an MBA from Rotterdam School of Management and is a Chartered Accountant by profession.)

FAQs

Q1. What is the seaplane initiative under the UDAN scheme?
The UDAN scheme aims to enhance regional connectivity through affordable air travel. Under this, India is developing 10 water aerodromes to enable seaplane operations.

Q2. Where will the new seaplane routes operate?
Proposed routes include water bodies across Gujarat, Kerala, and northeastern India. The earlier trial connected Ahmedabad to the Statue of Unity in Kevadia.

Q3. Why did India's previous seaplane service shut down?
The Ahmedabad–Kevadia route faced logistical and operational issues including weather challenges, leading to a temporary suspension of service.

Q4. What is the history of seaplanes in India?
India first saw seaplanes in the 1930s with British flying boats under the Empire Air Mail Scheme, connecting Karachi, Udaipur, Gwalior, and Calcutta.

Q5. Can modern seaplanes match the luxury of 1930s flying boats?
While modern seaplanes promise convenience and regional access, recreating the elegance of the 1930s flying boats would require a focus on experience and design.