Last week we went to the Andamans. Our daughter Diya was
joining the masters course in Marine Biology of the Pondicherry University
which is offered from its campus in Port Blair. We went there for the
ostensible purpose of settling her in, but more importantly we wanted to see a
new and exotic place, and spend some time together. We also wanted to make up
for the very little parenting that we had done during the last two years while
she had roamed about the cities and beaches of Southern India, familiarising
herself with the discipline and relevant researchers.
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| Sea, volcanic rocks on the coast line and swaying palms |
We left for Port Blair, with little idea of what to
expect. While shopping to equip Diya for
her stay there we had pondered about what to get and what one could safely
assume would be available there. Was there a Bata shop there in Port Blair? Better
not take chances, and Diya bought the pair of sneakers she wanted in Delhi
itself. Would there be ATMs, or a branch of Union Bank, where we banked? We
took the chance and went with our plastic money and cheque book hoping that the
upgrading of banking systems around the country allow us to withdraw money
locally to make the necessary deposits and payments related to her admission.
As the plane
descended from the clouds the sea and islands became visible. Diya started
taking pictures of the dark islands ringed with a deep aquamarine blue. I tried
to match what I saw with my mental picture of the Maldives as I had visited
Male some years ago. As we came closer and came thundering to a halt on the
runway I realised the picture was entirely different. Male is tiny – there was
no space on the island for the airport, which was on a neighbouring island and
the runway seemed to dip into the sea. Here it didn’t seem like an island at
all with building nestling among what appeared to be coconut palms all around. The terrain was thickly forested and hilly.
The arrival section of the airport was small but well appointed with a very
efficient prepaid taxi service and soon we were settled in our suite in a guest
house.
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| Dwarfed by the huge trees with buttress roots |
Over the next four days we slowly got acquainted with Port
Blair and its surroundings and fell in love with the place. The South Andaman
island on which Port Blair is situated, is a large landmass, and you when you
can’t see the sea, the sense we got was that we were in the hills – not in the
Himalayas but probably in the north east. The vegetation was so luxuriously
thick and green - with the trees tall and stately and a layered under growth of
a profusion of bushes and climbers. However you are hardly ever very far from a
view of the sea or of water flowing down a creek to the sea. We took a thirty kilometre
drive to the southern-most point of the island – chidiya tapu and the road wound
through hills and went past the shoreline and we passed many small clusters of
houses and shops with quaint names like Burmanala and Rangachang.
Port Blair has sea all around, but let that not fool anyone
that there are beaches everywhere as well. The city has a tiny beach called
Corvyn’s Cove and we drove past it on our way to the Chidiya Tapu, which is one
of the few beaches on the island. This is because the islands are volcanic and
what we could make out was that sandy beaches were only found where the coast
line curved in to create sheltered, tucked in spots. The Chidiya tapu beach is
not big or long as beaches go, but has an interesting character. First the approach to the beach is by crossing
a hilly ridge covered with thick forests. The beach is closed in and guarded
and is ringed by thick forest. There are many large trees lying uprooted on the
sand like giant sculpture. We had the beach to ourselves and our marine
biologist daughter was exploring a creek when she suddenly shouted out – ‘here is
a board saying way to view point’. The board
was nearly hidden, but following the way it pointed we started climbing up the hill
through a thick forest. It was magical. There was birdsong all around, but the
forest was so thick that I couldn’t identify the birds at all. There were some
parakeets, and drongos and swifts were flying higher up. I recalled my
conversation with our driver a little while ago. I had asked him about the
chidiya of chidiya tapu, and he had smiled and informed me – no birds, only
beach and sunset view. Clearly the birds didn’t figure on the average tourists
agenda. Unfortunately we had to come back before reaching the ‘viewpoint’
because it was getting close to 5pm, when the guards had informed us that the
beach would close.
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| Closely examining a nautilus washed up on the Chidiya Tapu beach |
We felt that it would be a pity to leave Andamans without a true
beach experience. To visit the famed beaches of the Andamans, we were told one
needs to go to Havelock island which is a three hour ferry ride away. Not having
enough time for tourism we decided to give it a miss this time. Instead we decided
to go to the North Bay beach which was close-by a mere 45 minutes by boat. The
trip included a possibility of seeing corals through the glass bottom boat or
snorkelling. We immediately thought it would be similar to a day trip we had
taken from Pattaya (in Thailand) to a coral island a couple of years ago. We
were very disappointed at first. North Bay beach is not on an island, just
further up north along the coast. It didn’t have a golden or
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| Watching across the waters near Chidiya Tapu |
white sandy beach
like we had imagined. Instead we got off from the boat onto a coral encrusted
fringe of land which was fenced from the sea. We paid a 10 rupee ticket to get
onto the tiny beach which was ringed with shops selling beachwear, food and
shell based trinkets. There was no beach to loll on, and the overall atmosphere
didn’t seem welcoming or relaxing at all. Diya had encouraged us to take the
snorkelling trip – the price was a little steep we thought at 500 rupees per
person. We were so glad that we did – it made our day. I had some initial
difficulty breathing through my mouth with my head under water. But soon we
were led a little further into the sea and we could see the corals underneath.
Then we saw the multicoloured fishes – the smaller clown fish and the damsel fish,
the much larger parrot fishes and the drab groupers. It was an out of the world
experience, but soon it was over. Having spent time in the water, we felt that
we would continue to swim and we did. Like with all tours soon our guide
started calling us. We got out but before leaving we felt we must have some
fried fish. Keeping our guide waiting we asked one of the shops to quickly fry
us a medium sized ‘pomfret’. We enjoyed a delicious snack on our way back to
Port Blair while getting thoroughly drenched as the rain blew in through the
open window and we were strictly told not to move to the other side for fear of
upsetting the ferry.
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| Landing at North Bay beach - no sand on this beach |
An island sojourn is incomplete without seafood and there
was no way we would let that happen here. Close to where we were staying was
the New Lighthouse Restaurant, an open air restaurant and beer bar run by the
city municipality. It was right next to the Rajiv Gandhi water sport complex
and jetty. The surroundings are pretty, but the restaurant itself is very
ordinary in its get up. We made friends with the Bengali wait staff and so the
service we received was excellent. They had glass aquaria close to the open
kitchen which had live crabs and prawns and lobsters of different sizes laid
out on ice. Diya opted for a crab curry and Montuli wanted prawns cooked in
coconut milk Kerala style. The food was delicious though the crab curry was a
little spicy. We had two more meals here
before Diya said that we should explore more places. Using the very slow
internet connection on our smartphone she found out about a restaurant called
Mandalay and an auto driver agreed to take us there. Mandalay we discovered was
the restaurant of the Fortune Bay Resort hotel, among the poshest hotels in
town. The open air dining area
overlooked the sea with the lighthouse
on the seashore across the water. They say this is the view on the twenty rupee
note – and it turned out to be true, but one never notices these things. We had
prawns once again, this time cooked with crushed pepper, and tuna cooked in a
spicy coconut milk sauce. The food was excellent while the prices were
comparable to that at the New Lighthouse restaurant, while the ambience was infinitely
better.
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| Cellular Jai |
The town of Port Blair is small, but much larger than what
we expected. It is like a hill town with an undulating terrain. Unlike most Indian
towns the houses are not crowded together and it does not appear claustrophic.
The town was very clean and the traffic seemed orderly with traffic policewomen
at most crossings. The city has busses and auto rickshaws and there is was an
unhurried air in the city. Coming from the unruly crowds and chaotic traffic of
Delhi, it seem idyllic. Women were everywhere. Many shops in Aberdeen Bazar,
the main market place, had women as shop attendants, some had women in charge.
It was interesting to see that a large hardware and vehicle spare parts shop
was also managed by women. Probably the city is less pretty when there are more
tourists, and when it doesn’t rain so much. The rainfall was spectacular, and
it rained every day we were there. However it was dry much of the time. But
when it rained, it poured. Our room had a tin roof and had sound damping ceiling
under it. When it rained, we could hardly hear each other speak. From the
windows it seemed that a vertical wall of water was coming down. Half an hour
or forty five minutes later it would be over. The roads were slick, but there
was no water-logging the water had all flowed down the hill. Water is a part of
life in Port Blair and the residents seem adjusted to it.
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| View from an upper corridor in the jail |
No description of Port Blair is complete without a reference
to the Cellular jail. In fact as children growing up in Kolkata, it was the
first thing we learnt about the Andamans. The many stories of Bengali patriots
who had been incarcerated there, had made the Cellular jail both a source of
horror and awe. The jail comprising of over 800 individual cells or single
rooms was originally in the form of a seven armed star radiating from a central
watch pillar. It reminded me of the concept of ‘panopticon’ described by Jeremy
Bentham – a prison where the inmates are constantly under watch. Today three of
the arms remain while the rest have made way for the GB Pant Hospital campus.
We saw the sound and light show in the evening and visited the jail premises
now converted into a museum during the day. The story of the Andaman Cellular
jail and the life of its inmates is a story of youth struggling against
oppression, and of unbelievable cruelty of man on man. In some ways it reminded
me of the inspiring Apartheid and Liliesleaf museums in Johanesburg
However this is not a well-known story even though it is not
from so long ago – the jail was closed in the 30’s barely 70 years ago. The Cellular Jail was commissioned in 1903
and the centenary celebrated in 2003 -04. It was the time of the BJP led NDA rule
in India, and that perhaps explains why Vinayak Damodar Savarkar gets undue
importance
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| Jail Museum |
and mention in the museum. The jail museum also provides an insight
into the armed struggle that was part of the independence movement. Unfortunately this aspect of our freedom
movement has been airbrushed by the moral high ground of the non-violent struggles
championed by Mohandas Gandhi. While going through the story of the jail and
its valiant inmates I was able to understand and sympathise with the use of
religious and cultural identity by some of the inmates to mark their struggle
against the colonial oppressors. There was concurrent story of solidarity
between Indian patriots of different religions who came together for a number
of strikes against the atrocities committed against them in this jail.
Unfortunately today many of our politicians, following Savarkar’s lead still use
religion to mark their political identity and a tradition used to mark struggle
in Andaman today divides Indian citizens like nothing else.
Diya’s classes started on the 15
th of July, and so
we were ready to return to mainland India and to our work life. We are glad that Diya will spend
the next two years in Port Blair, giving us reason to return and continue our
interrupted love affair.
