Baratang, limestone caves and mud volcano

  Port Blair, India
Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Day 2 - Tuesday, 20th May, 2008
 
They'd wonder just what waking up at 2.30 in the morning can help you do in a land famed for the sun and the sand. But, they can't have heard about Baratang and its limestone caves. Nor can they imagine the feeling of being part of a convoy passing gingerly through a dense forest inhabited by tribals with absolutely no links to the outside world. Well, more on the way...
 
We wait in a group, near the Gandhi Statue next to the Aberdeen bus station, willing the bus to come. It is still pitch dark and some of us harbour hopes of continuing with their slumber once inside the bus. At 3.30, we spot headlights approaching and, soon, settle down in our seats. Once you nod off, it will be hard to stay awake, we tell ourselves sleepily. Keeping that in mind, we keep ourselves awake. In about half an hour, day breaks and the landscape outside the window begins to brighten. We are on the Andaman Trunk road, progressively heading north, passing houses on both sides of the road, interspersed with thick clumps of trees.
 
After about 90 minutes into the ride, we pull over in what, at first, seemed to be a minor traffic jam. Just then the guide announces to a mostly sleeping busload that we have reached Jirkatang, the border checkpost to enter the Jarawa Reserve. We have a 30mt stopover here - any early morning emergencies, including an urge to have a cup of tea, could be attended to. 

Onward to Baratang

 
That gives us time enough to broach the subject of the Jarawa forest and the tribe here. One of the six recognised tribes of the Andaman and Nicobar group, the Jarawas are predominantly nomadic in nature and rely chiefly on hunting and gathering. Bow and arrows remain their weapon of sustenance and defence - on occasion, attack too, as has been seen whenever an effort to befriend them have been made by official contact expeditions.  Inhabiting the western coast of the Middle and South Andaman Islands, they restrict movements mostly in this area. Their inherently hostile nature thawed only recently when the friendly contact teams tried to win them over with gifts, mostly food. Numbering about 300, they continue to confine themselves to fishing with their bow and arrows and gathering fruits and honey from the forest.
 
Given their sensitive disposition and the vulnerability to outside contact, it is not uncommon for police patrol to be seen throughout the ride in the Jarawa reserve. Also, vehicles (only four-wheelers allowed) move only in a convoy, with clear instructions to keep moving - no stopping till the reserve area is crossed. The guide also makes us sign off on a piece of paper and warn us against keeping the windows open, taking photographs of the tribals or handing over/throwing anything (especially food items) to them. The first set of vehicles crosses the border at 6am - and at 6 sharp, our bus also rolls on.
 
Understandably, most of the bus has again gone off to sleep. But, for most of us, curiosity forces us to stay awake and we watch as the forest grows denser and absolutely devoid of any signs of human life. At a steady pace, the vehicles follow one another on the zig-zag road. About an hour into the ride, our guide springs up from his seat and spits out in a hushed, urgent tone. 'Jarawas! On your left! Keep all windows closed!' All those awake rise up as one and peerout excitedly.
 
Sure enough, there is a middle-aged tribal, with just a loin cloth on, peacefully watching the bus go by. We resist the urge to photograph him, more as a mark of respect than anything else. Ten minutes later, there is another Jarawa by the roadside, again, content and minding his own business. If anything, it is the 'tribals' within the bus that are more threatening with their undiluted curiosity, staring and gesticulating animatedly. Some of them even whip out their cameras and start clicking away. One goes to the extent of pulling open her window and nearly throws some food item to the poor, non-plussed Jarawa when the guide yells at her.
 
By now, the bus is awake and we are approaching the end of the Jarawa reserve. Another 90mts into the ride, at 7.30, we have reached Baratang jetty. We are to alight here and board a ferry that would take us across to Uttara jetty at the other end. Yet another, smaller ferry would take us towards the opening to the mangroves which lead to the limestone caves. 

Baratang jetty

 
Having done the above, we have all now shaken off any shreds of sleep that might still have clung on, and have stepped into an even smaller, motor-driven boat. And it is on this that we head into the narrow mangroves, dodging our heads away from any protruding branches - even as we take in the wildness of the flora around us. Within 15mts, we come to a stop and walk down a wooden bridge towards the entry point to the forest where the limestone caves lie. 

The mangrove forest

After taking in a briefing regarding the caves and a strict warning not to carry or litter plastic, we proceed on a 2km trek onwards. The sight of some plain land that appear to resemble fields, it is hard to imagine that we are in the Andamans - could well be somewhere in the mainland. Then, the landscape changes as we climb down some natural steps and enter a terrain of rocks and cliffs that means we are at the doorsteps of the caves themselves. Just before, we come across boards with information on limestone caves and its nature and formation.
 
Excited and voluble, a Bengali family passes us by, apparently having been impressed with what they have seen ahead. There are guides now along the way, giving free information to those milling in. The caves themselves, we look up to see, are quite a sight. Not only do they look ancient, but as we walk in, we are spellbound by the myriad sizes and shapes the stalactites and stalagmites took on. A guide endeavoures to point out how one of the formation resembled a lotus, and another a bird, and so on. In the utter darkness, we see a sliver of sunlight flash down from between cracks. But, mostly, it is the mystique of the rocks coming alive in an indescribable form each time the guide lights up a match. The silence inside is only pierced by the flutter of bats and the hush of human voices. 

The limestone caves

 
We walk back and do not give up on the opportunity to fill ourselves up with the only beverage, for that matter the only consumable item there, available there - tender coconut water. After doing justice to the tasty mish-mash of succulent coconut flesh, we head back to where the boat is docked. This time, we walk back over a hanging wooden bridge all the way to the dock. It takes us just another 20 minutes to reach Uttara Jetty, the entry point to the North and Middle Andamans. Diglipur, the northern most point of Andamans, is 203kms away. With another day or two, we could even have included that in the travel plan and visited Saddle Peak, the highest point in the Andamans.  

Gateway to North & Middle Andaman

 
We find our bus waiting at Uttara Jetty, having hopped on to the large ferry, along with us. The next stop, a mud volcano, is about 15mts up front. We alight after this short ride and walk past a board on our left, towards the forest. A demarcated path, bordered on each side by wooden rails, leads us to a clearing in the woods to where the site appears to be. 

At the mud volcano

The last major eruption happened in March, 1983. Since then, a fissure had appeared here and begun simmering since February, 2003, with mud and gas constantly escaping from the ground. When we saw it, there is still an appearance of restrained unrest, with bubbles swelling and bursting in the grey of the mud. Somehow, the sight fails to enthuse onlookers whose crestfallen faces seem to indicate they were hoping to see an outburst of lava explode before them. Signboards stuck all around strive to educate visitors on the phenomenon but not many are seen reading them up. 
 
We take the bus back and stop just short of the jetty - it is lunchtime. Lunch is scheduled at what looks like a large tin shed more than a restaurant. But appearances, as they say, can be deceptive. The buffet meal that is on offer is probably one of the most memorable, not least for the quality of the food on offer. The catering turns out to be a family affair with all members, including the children, graciously serving us an array of Kerala dishes, including some freshly fried fish. The simple yet tasty main course is followed up by fresh bananas which are handed out by the bunch.
 
The only thing that is disconcerting, now, is the thought of the long bus ride back. We cross over to Baratang Jetty to find that there is a change in the bus. The replacement is one row short, which means that we are relegated to the last one - which is more a bench than a seat. And one that is not even fixed...every hundred metres and the whole bench comes undone prompting all backbenchers to get up and shove it back! As for the ride, less said the better...there is no way we can get any rest, let alone sleep. The silver lining in our cloud is that we are about the only people in the nodding bus who see a couple more Jarawas enroute - including a wary mother and a child clinging on to her. She even takes a mock aim at our bus - possibly a result of someone from the bus in front having taunted her. So much for civilised folk and their cultured behaviour!
 
The rest of the journey back to Port Blair is without event. We drive into town at about 8pm, passing the airport on the way, eventually alighting at the Gandhi statue near Aberdeen Bazaar. M/s Saleem and John are patiently waiting for us, munching desultorily on some roasted groundnuts. They ride on ahead on their bike to meet us at the hotel to discuss the next day's plans. We have a 6.30am ferry to Havelock and would be back only the day after, in the evening. So, what we pack into the last full day - Friday - is crucial to ensuring that we do not miss out on much. Our gracious hosts promise us that they would weave in most of the balance items into one long Friday - so we could forget all else, go out there and enjoy Havelock! There is a mad scramble to do some quick packing - after all we will be away till Thursday evening.
 
Still some energy left in some of us, we set out for the Aberdeen Bazaar to catch up on the sights of the local market and stock up on a beach ball and a Frisbee. That done, and a shower later, we are back at Icy Spicy. Dinner over, we return back to sleep off a hard and bumpy day. The next day will be less hectic but just as exciting - the beautiful beaches of Havelock beckon us. We would need to leave the hotel by 5.30am, so could sleep late - at least by the last morning's standards!