Part 2: Ross Island, Chiriyatapu and the return

  Port Blair, India
Friday, May 23, 2008

Day 5 - Friday, 23rd May, 2008

The history lessons continue, only the classroom changes. We escape from the Cellular Jail, pretty much prisoners of its harrowing past. Next up is another chapter from a forgotten past, an island that's not about beaches and corals - more a theatre of ghostly stories and settings. We are enroute to Ross Island.

Approaching Ross Island

 
Well, the poetry is not just in the setting, but also the in justice that is eventually meted out. Coming a full circle, the island that the had British wrested changed hands when the Japanese came calling; today, it stands reclaimed by an even bigger force - that of nature. In a bizarre act of retribution, every one of the buildings stand ravaged by time, with roots and branches and vines choking any traces of heritage that the settlers had left behind.

Gateway to the settlement

 
The moment we get off the ferry and pass the ticket counters, it's as if the curtain has gone up on a well-made set of a historical tragedy,. A museum does its best to prepare you for what is in store ahead. But the world that unravels is nothing like we have seen anywhere. 

Ruins by the sea

A mini-township complete with cottages, barracks, clubhouse, tennis court, dispensary, bakery, general stores, library, and a magnificient Presbyterian church gives an insight to how the British would have lorded it over in their comfortable, little world. And, all along, a few oar-swipes away lay the dark and depressing corridors of the Cellular Jail. But today, the deathly calm that prevails in the cemetery is also what, ironically, hangs all over the island and its haunted ruins. After having developed and transformed Ross Island to a comfortable, self-sufficient township, the Britishers were shaken, literally, out of their adopted home by a devastating earthquake in 1941. 

The Presbyterian church on the island

Subsequently, during the second world war, the island took on a more military look when the Japanese took control in 1942. In their short stint of 3 years, the new landlords left behind stamps of their existence - military installations and underground bunkers, that you can still crouch through, if doubled up.
 
Life as it is on island can be witnessed in another interesting little museum up ahead. From drawings and photographs to letters written by the inhabitants to their loved ones back in England, it's as good a walkthrough of those times as any.

Ruins of the officers' quarters

 
As our ferry leaves Ross Island, the Indian Navy's flag that flutters from a mast on the shore is what brings us back to the present day. The rest, as they say, is history.
 
Lunch later, we realise we still have enough left of the afternoon. John suggests we look up the Anthropological museum before we set off for Chiriyatapu. After all, we only need reach there just before sunset - which is when the 'Bird Island' comes to life. The museum turns out to be an encyclopaedic walkthrough of the history and culture of the Andaman and Nicobar islands. Exhaustive in its depiction, through photographs and tableaus, of the evolution and life of the various tribes, it's worth spending time here to understand this otherwise little known region of your country better. The souvenir shop on the ground floor has some interesting books and handicrafts on sale - maybe the right place to pick up some miniature Jarawa tribals and give them pride of place on your mantelpiece.
 
Our next destination, Chiryatapu, is a 26 kms drive out of Port Blair, through lush green countryside. As we pass a desolate stretch of sand on our left, John points to a cluster of buildings up ahead. That is home and from where he watched in horror at the massive wave of water that the tsunami threw up. Given the positioning in the Andamans, this region escaped the full fury - but the telltale signs of an unnatural phenomenon has still left a scar.
 
We pass a village marketplace and, presently, drive up to a small hillock. With the sea on our right and a forest rest house on our left, we now stand at Chiriyatapu. From a peaceful fishing village to being a regular fixture on tourist itineraries, the name is apt. Thick, green mangroves dot the area and are home to about 46 endemic varieties of birds. 

Low tide at Chiriyatapu

The sun is steadily going down and the rocky waterbed below has a scattering of tourist leaning on to large boulders and uprooted trees to strike a pose for posterity. Up ahead to our south is Cinque Island, with its famed sandstrip that appears and disappears in the magic of the tides. To the east is the beautiful, sandy Munda Pahar and Sylvan Sands beaches, and to the west, the sky is a brilliant red-golden that bounces off the water and the rocks. The scene is truly spectacular - one you can't resist taking away, manually and digitally. 

Shades of dusk at Chiriyatapu

Sundown at Chiriyatapu

 
It is dark by the time we approach Port Blair, but not late enough for John to squeeze in a final stopover - at Jogger's Park. Overlooking the town, the park is at a relatively high point to take in the sights around on late evenings that you don't want to spend inside your hotel room. It has been a long day but we have seen a lot, without having to rush up on any of the sights. Back at the hotel, John and Saleem drop in and we thank them profusely for their hospitality. Despite the last minute changes that we had proposed, they had woven in all our requests into the overall fabric of the tour and we are more than satisfied with the end product. Now all that remains is to pack up, dine and retire early. We have a 7.30 morning flight and the cab will pick us up at six.
 
Packed and ready, and a shower later, we get into the cab again for dinner. We decide it would have to be Icy Spicy all over again to wind up a good time had at the islands. And this time, for good measure, there will also be dessert!
 
As we ride back from Junglighat, past the Aberdeen Bazaar and the now-familiar Mosque Road, we can't help feeling that we have been extremely fortunate. We could cover as much as possible in five days; the rain gods have been very merciful; and none of us has had any health issues to speak of. In a minor act of celebration, we play a few rounds of cards before going to sleep. Hard to believe that we have been ____kms away from the mainland for the last five days - and in another few hours, Andamans will again be a few dots a few inches away on a map. Or is it just that? Maybe for the millions who are waiting to discover that the Bay of Bengal is not just a sprawling, watery stretch to the east of India. For us, it's much, much more.
 
Day 6 - Saturday, 24th May, 2008
 
In a place as rich, beautiful and diverse, a week can never do justice to all the sights around. There are bound to be a fair share of misses, but then it's a crime to see everything the first time around. After all, there has to be a good enough reason to return. Of course, all that we saw could be seen many times over - but let's still leave behind something unseen to retain the mystique of this wonderland. 
 

Flying over the Sunderbans

As the last of the islands recede from view, the sea takes over to follow our path for the next hour and a half before handing us over to the snaking canals of the Sunderbans. The Bay of Bengal, in all its expanse and grandeur, look both fascinating and intimidating. Would we want to try the sea-route the next time we visit the Andamans? That's one for the gritty, intrepid traveller. We will have to wait some time to find the answers to that.