Indira Point ... To & Back

Indira Point   ….. To  & Back

S. Balakrishnan

krishnanbala2004@yahoo.co.in

This narrates one of my dreams blooming at last - visiting the Southernmost Point of India, i.e., Parson’s Pygmalion Point of Great Nicobar Island in Andaman & Nicobar Group of Islands of India [Now, Indira Point]. The rough travel jottings were done from 18^th April to 5^th May 1979. It is interesting for the finer details I have noted down.

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For my other stories on Indira Point, pl. refer:

Andamans Amazing: Indira Point - Southernmost Point . trip in 1979

Jan 06, 2010

(The Point was later renamed Indira Point, after a visit to that place by Smt. Indira Gandhi, the then Prime Minster of India.) M.V. Onge, the inter-island ship plying between Port Blair and the Nicobar Group of Islands, ...

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Andamans Amazing: Trip to Indira Point

May 06, 2009

Once a happy reminder of my dream visit to Indira Point, the Southernmost Tip of Indian soil, now they remind me of the devastating Tsunami of December 26, 2004, which has not only devoured that Land's Tip but also the ...

http://balakrishnan-balusblog.blogspot.com/

Andamans Amazing: Indira Point - At the confluence of Indian Ocean

Apr 23, 2009

The place was earlier called Parson's Pygmalion Point. After a visit to the place by the then Prime Minister of India, Mrs. Indira Gandhi, it was renamed Indira Point. Campbell Bay is the main and only town of Great Nicobar ...

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Andamans Amazing: Indira Point in Great Nicobar Island -Photo ...

Apr 30, 2009

Indira Point in Great Nicobar Island -Photo:Southernmost Point of India -. Posted by Balakrishnan at 11:59 PM · Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook. Labels: Indira Point photo ...

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I am reproducing (data entering) in Sept. 2011 without much change and with grammatical errors as it is (so that readers can have a hearty laugh), but with some additions here & there, which are in […..] brackets, as explanatory notes. While reading, pl. remember that in those days there were no cell phones, internet, E-mail, cable /dish TV, not even TV, daily newspapers, etc., in the Islands; even landline phones were very, very rare in that remotest island of Great Nicobar. {For geographical & technical Notes, pl. see another item in my blog}

[ This sketch, technically speaking ‘line drawing’, was scribbled by me in 1979 in the notebook in which I was writing these travel jottings]

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After a long hesitation and thinking, at last I applied for earned leave from April 20 to May 10 1979, sometime in March 1979 itself. Again I reminded our Regional Office (Press Information Bureau - PIB) in Calcutta [now Kolkata], in the first week of April. But till I started from Port Blair to Campbell Bay, no sanction.

April 18, 1979 Wednesday:

The sailing program [I had used this US spelling way back in 1979 itself!] was announced over All India Radio, Port Blair, and in The Daily Telegrams [the local administration’s mouthpiece]. Two consecutive sailings up to Campbell Bay & back.

After waiting [in the queue] the whole forenoon on 18^th April and again in the afternoon for about an hour, I got the ticket (Bunk Class Rs. 39.40, one way) after much persuasion and, to say, begging those bastards [sorry for the foul language, but I must have been really frustrated]. I knew Mother Nature won’t let me down, since [as] I am going to adore and worship Her. In the meantime, I was collecting details about the places [see separate post in my blog] and planning also.

I got the pass within ½ a day on 16^th April 1979 from Development Commissioner’s office (to visit Nicobar Islands, though Great Nicobar Island itself is not a restricted place, as it is not inhabited by Nicobari tribe in a major way), a great achievement,  I suppose. Nowadays, I know the trick, ways & means to get things done, of course, cursing those connected persons [persons concerned] vehemently. [I had taken oral permission to leave office for this purpose.]

On 18^th, my boss [Mr. P.K. Majumdar, Assistant Information Officer, Press Information Bureau, Ministry of Information & Broadcasting , Government of India, Port Blair] was ‘kind’ enough to grant ½ a day’s Casual Leave (18^th forenoon) and also permission on 17^th  and 18^th (afternoon). I suppose he thinks once I leave on a long trip, he could play as he wishes. Anyhow, I got my leave sanctioned by him.

Loaned Rs. 75/- from my friend Antony [Jr. Engineer, Andaman Public Works Department (APWD), my contemporary at Virudhunagar S. Vellaichamy Nadar Polytechnic - 1972-75 Batch, where I did my Diploma in Commercial Practice and he did his Diploma in Civil Engineering, and whom I met accidentally at Gurusamy Provisions Stores in Port Blair. It was thro’ him my contacts’ / friends’ circle widened there] and bought 10 black & white film roles for Rs. 70! Got two travellers’ cheques of Rs. 50/- each [a great amount for me in those days] from State Bank of India. On loan, I got Antony’s suitcase and with wishes of him and his relative Mrs. & Mr. Hasparaj (with whom he was staying), Mr. Ponnusamy (of Memory Studio), Mrs. & Mr. Avadani, Mr. Meeran & others (of Dy. Accountant General Office - DAG), left the DAG Colony on 18^th evening. Purchased buns, groundnuts, plantains, biscuits and, of course, chloroquine tablets 12 nos.! [anti-malarial drug]

Got addresses of known people in the Southern Group, from Antony, Mr. Haspa Raj, and Mr. Murugesan, School Teacher (?) (lived nearby).

Packing started at 8 PM and ended at 10 PM. wrote a letter to Ma (in Madras) at 10.30PM (posted in the next morning). Lay down at 11 PM.

April 19 1979 Thursday:

Mr. Murugesan woke me up at 4.20 AM, sharp. Got up at 4.30 AM. [I think I slept at his house, so that he would wake me up even if I had overslept so as not to miss the ferry. I did not have an alarm timepiece.] Had bath and started at 5.20 AM. Even at 4.30, the dawn was quite bright and the happy, energetic birds were twittering happily. Reached Choulunga (marine) Wharf at 6 AM.

The ship MV Onge [Onge is an aboriginal tribe, now restricted only to Little Andaman Island] sailed only at 8.45 AM, instead of 7AM (it is rather unusual for inter-island ferry to start sailing after such a delay; instead, they would as well cancel the sailing and re-fix the next day). This is teachers’ sailing and hence had to start punctually! The next sailing also being teachers’ sailing, I hope (though I don’t wish) to return on 4^th May as scheduled.  [Teachers’ sailings are meant mainly for mainland people working as teachers in far-flung islands, to go to mainland on start of summer vacation, and to get back to duty at the end of vacation].

The first snap was of the Tourist Home (Megapode Nest) complex in Haddows area. This was not actually serial no. 1 of the roll. [ I number it a1] No. 1 was Chatham Island [where Asia’s oldest & biggest sawmill was established].

After some time of the sailing, there was nothing to see, but the blue sea with shining diamonds. Hence I sat to write this.

I saw a foreigner whom I later understood is a West Germanian (sic) working in the Calcutta University researching on Indian snakes. He has come on duty to Little Andaman and will be returning in the sailing in which I too shall be returning to Port Blair. He told me they are harassing too much by ‘procedures’. He shall go to South Africa to work there and shall be coming on leave to India, now & then.

‘Onge’ berthed at Hut Bay Jetty at 4.30 PM. This new jetty and the break water were inaugurated by Prime Minister, Mr. Morarji Desai, on Feb. 12, 1979 [during which period Cellular Jail was dedicated as National Memorial. I was witness to the function and had taken some snaps.] There is a memorial for those workmen who passed away while constructing the ‘L’ -shaped breakwater.

About 8 hours running to Little Andaman. I feel little dizzy, but hope to manage well. Took buns, plantains in the noon.

With the camera [Agfa Click III ‘box camera’ & black & white roll; colour roll was unimaginable / unaffordable and no processing facility in Port Blair] I set out of the ship. Lovely Nicobari lasses were seen carrying plantains and papayas. How innocent their faces are!

Took a shot of the logs (bounded (sic) together, the way they were brought from forests through creeks). There was a lovely Nicobari stall full of bunches of plantains & plantains, papayas and, of course, tea. Shot this. Went around the village. Two lambs were standing on the ‘Y’ shaped cement [concrete] blocks [groynes for breakwater construction]; snapped them.

Went to the main street (black-topped road). Purchased ‘Yera’ glass tumbler for Rs. 3/- from a co-operative stores (since in the ship’s canteen they have no tumblers.) Further, it will be like a souvenir from Little Andaman. Had a (chaya) tea for 25 P in a Bengali tea stall. Onion is Rs. 3/kg and potato Rs. 2.80/kg. Ah, just double the price at Port Blair! I just enquired for that sake.

Returned to ship at 7 PM after going (a)round  here and there. Had plantains and bun. Ah, I must tell one more thing - I overheard this while moving around; some Tamilians were talking and passing by my side, like this “It seems some Anglo-Indian has come”  “Is this that  fellow (pointing at me, and thinking that I do not know Tamil)  “No, no (not him)”. Very interesting, is it not?

The scene in the ship is very interesting. Bunches of plantains hanging all around, and papayas resting in the benches. Everywhere boxes of all shapes & sizes, beds, tins, bags and people lying, sitting, reading, talking, playing cards, eating … oh, such a variety.

I was tuning my [tiny transistor] radio in the bunk; but ‘grrr…..” was the only sound I received. Then someone told me, because of the heavy power lines here, you won’t get it. When I tuned it at the outside, Port Blair station could be received very poorly. Likewise Delhi news also. So many South-East Asian Stations’ interruption was heavy.

It was to sail at 9.30 PM. Now it is 9.45. Don’t know if it had sailed. At 10 PM I heard it had sailed off Hut Bay. From Onge, I could count about 20 lights only (tube as well as ordinary bulbs) at Hut Bay.

I remember another interesting happening when I was shooting at lambs at Hut Bay. A Tamilian lady was remarking “Hey, what this guy is up to? Taking photos of lambs!) [Ennatha foto edukrangalam, hm..]

20^th April 1979 Friday:

Got up at 3.20 AM to view Sunrise. I was foolishly looking at the south, [later, I committed the same mistake at Parson’s Pygmalion Point / Indira Point also] and then I saw colorful sky in the East. Only then I realized my folly. It seems either the sun is angry with me or shy to appear before me without purdha (face covering cloth, i.e., clouds). Until 5.30 AM, I could not see him fully, but then it (sun) was too high and did not look so nice. I could take only one shot with lovely (?) clouds. By then, why, even well before that (may be at around 4 AM), the light of the lighthouse at Car Nicobar was visible.

Onge anchored near Rit-töp [original name in Nicobari] [Titop / Tee Top - the modern name] Bay at around 6.20 AM. Oh, the beach was bordered with coconut trees; it looked as if a coconut forest is there! The silvery beach and all that, oh! The stevedoring operation started at 8.30 AM and after breakfast (no bath) I reached the shore by raft at 10.30 AM. (Rs. 4.50 for ferry service from Onge to shore & back)

 Ran to catch an APWD truck and reached, with some difficulty, the Headquarters at 11.45. Had meals at a Tamilian hotel (at U-rèk-ka / Malacca village) Rs. 3/- and by walk reached Tim-lö / Tamalu /Tamoolo village (a distance of about 4 km), taking wonderful shots (do not know how they would turn up when developed) all the way.

Had a lift in a scooter of a Sardarji and reached Pum-pai /Chukchucha  village, where Ellen Hinengeo Ltd (EHL) [a cooperative setup of Nicobaris] is situated. After impatient waiting there, got lift again on an APWD truck and safely and well before time reached Tee Top Jetty at 2.45 PM. Thanks to the Sardarji and the lorry driver. Had water (so thirsty I was) and a tea. By ferry boat reached Onge at 3.30 PM.

Plantain is very rare in Car Nicobar; papaya also.

The ladies are shy while I approached for snaps. Children are fond of it (as elsewhere) and pose happily and readily with full of smiles. One lad didn’t permit at the first instance to take a shot of women doing the flooring for a house. Cricket has come even to Car Nicobar! [Satellite telecast was available there, I think, on limited scale]. While going in lorry, I saw a man and his lovely (wife) lady bicycling. While taking a photo of a small girl when she was breaking a nut (doring nut, she said), she offered me a nut. It was nice, of course. One lady has asked for a copy of the little baby (don’t know whether he/she, for the baby was wearing an underwear). I was lucky to take those rare shots described in the Tamil book ‘Nicobar Islands’. I am so lucky to have shot two snaps of men carrying a wild boar (I suppose festival is approaching fast). In the launch, I saw a lovely cage for a parrot, made of the main stem of coconut leaves. So wonderful & artistic, you know!  I am sad I could not snap it. As soon as landed, we had to run for catching the lorry.

I very much wanted to visit Ha-nyôch / Mus village, but could not. There is a hotel run by a Nicobari near Headquarters. There is a circuit house at Headquarters. D.C.’s (Deputy Commissioner) & other offices are there only. I met a Tamilian who is a dance master teaching Manipuri & Bharatha Nattiyam to the students.

 Beehive-shaped huts are very rare, probably 1% only. All others are on stands [stilts]. Quite a few houses were built of bricks. Wooden-built houses are common.

I could see one or two ladies with bare chest, but did not dare to take photos.

Black-topped road runs all around the Island, it is said. I saw some three, four Hindu temples. Also at Little Andaman.

Ships berth at Malacca during South-West monsoon (May-Oct.) and at Sawai (Tee Top) during North-East monsoon (Oct. to May).

This I’m writing, sitting in my berth (No. 46, Deck) from since (sic) I reached; now it’s nearing 5 PM. I’m hungry, though I had a packet of biscuits a little while ago. The rest I‘ll write in the night. I want to take shots of sunset. Ok, then.

Went to bed very soon, probably at 7 PM or so. There were heavy clouds. Hence only one shot of sunset.

Saturday April 21 1979:

Not a very sound sleep. I woke up many times. Sun rise, I couldn’t see. I saw Teressa Island at 5 AM. Anchored at 6 AM

Within a short time, lovely odis [Nicobari country boats with side rig] came, numbering about 12 or so. They ranged from very small ones where 3 could sit and big ones where about 15 could sit, with their loads. How daring these little Nicobari boys are! 3 small boys came rowing in their smallest odi, so gently.  How brave of them! There was a man (Nicobari) like Tara Singh. So far, I could see only one Nicobari wearing spectacles! It was a lovely sight to see odis; don’t know how it would be when we travel. There is no jetty at Teressa. The ship didn’t call alt Chowra as per timetable. I was anxiously waiting to see Chowra. After about 1 ½ hours, the ship sailed for Katchal.

Reached Katchal Jetty (RCC jetty) at 11 AM. Since I heard the ship would be berthed till 1 PM, I rushed to take a bath. I myself drew water from a small well of 3 ft. in diameter and about 10 ft. deep. Had a refreshing bath. Thanks to the Telugu man [who suggested this, I suppose]. At about 11.30 AM, the bus left for some place, loaded fully. I couldn’t get tender coconut. Demand for even this, eh! The policemen refused a Nicobari (who was drunk) to take into the ship some coconuts. It seems we can’t take many no. of coconuts and much quantity of coconut oil from tribal areas. That Nicobari started shouting angrily, while his little boy was looking on pitily (sic) [pitifully]. Later they allowed him, but he just refused and took it back home!! At the same time I saw some persons known to the policemen and men of big bosses carrying sacks of coconuts and bottles of oil to ship. Ah, that is the way!  The ship left Katchal at 1.10 PM.

The way to Nancowry is so charming. It is like this:

The ship passed thru’ the passage in-between Nancowry and Kamorta Islands. There are so many bays on the way to Kamorta jetty. Such a wonderful harbour indeed! Reached Kamorta at 2.45 PM. Availed a ferry to Champion (say about 500 metres away). Though the fare is only 45 P (one way), since the man had no change on both the ways, I had to pay a total of Rs. 1.50, instead of 90 P.

Within 10 minutes reached the Champion Jetty (wooden jetty). Kamorta jetty is RCC and has been opened in 1970 only.

On the Champion Jetty, areca nuts were being weighed in sacks. A little away, the nice smell of dried copras was filling in the air. Manula Mitai Ltd.’s (shortly marked on the jute sacks as MML) [cooperative venture] lovely light-green building stands prominently near the jetty. I went into the village a short distance.

Oh boy! So lovely lasses were there (as Mr. Murugesan sir told me)!! One was sitting in the swing, but refused to pose for a snap. Pity! Some others were sitting near the beach on their boat, but as soon as they saw me with a camera, turned off their faces. One was walking alone, but I didn’t dare to take a photo. Since I thought it’s not wise & gentlemanism (sic) [gentlemanly]. There is a church with a wooden cross inside it. Then, the grave of one Rani Isloyn with her belongings - a steel trunk, enamel coated (China ware) eating plate, bowls, glass tumbler, etc.

It seems they bind the roof of

Nicobari house

this type of house first and then shift it, for I saw such a readymade one (roof) kept on the ground.

Caught the ferry and returned to Kamorta at 4.05 PM. You know, as soon as the business people alighted down on the jetty, they started selling the vegetables. Within a while, drumstick was out of stock; lemon costs 33 P each; onion (big) at Katchal Rs. 4/kg. One Glucose Asoka brand biscuit packet costs Rs. 1.25 at Little Andaman, whereas at Port Blair, the small petty shop-keepers sell at Rs.1.10 only.

Went to a Hotel (Tamilian) and took 3 dosais, 2 chapatis and 2 cups of tea. The tea tasted nice with ginger, etc. That is why I took 2 cups. This came to a total of Rs. 2.10. Tea costs 30P/cup.

It seems there is a heavy demand and shortage of any type of vegetable. Even for pulses (dhal) the people have to depend on M/s Akooji Traders. The hotel man told me he had to bring drinking water from a far off place in Odi. [Remember, there was no bottled drinking water then!] Don’t know how people live there! (In Katchal I saw a big tank-like thing with iron sheets all around the rectangular pitch (sic) [pit] of about 10’x5’ size  where water was there. Don’t know whether it’s a well, or just a storing tank. Many of the bunk/deck passengers bathed at Katchal).

The ship moved from Kamorta at exactly 5 PM. After reaching a distance of about 1 or 1 ½ km., i.e.., after passing thro’ another passage, no. 2 in the sketch, it anchored. I heard it will sail from here at around 10.30PM only, so as to reach Campbell Bay in the early morning and not in the very early dawn. I wonder why not it instead as well stay at the jetty itself!

For more than ½ an hour I saw fire in another island; may be in the forest. (No. 3 in the sketch)

Dropped a packet of biscuit into my stomach in addition to some plantains, at 6 PM. Now, when I write this it is 8 PM. Due to the hot air in the place, and due to the movement of the ship, etc., I feel head ache. I need a sound sleep. So, Good Night then.

Hope to take some nice shots of sunrise, provided the clouds are away from my path.

Sunday, the 22^nd April 1979:

Onge berthed at last at Campbell Bay Jetty at 7 AM. It seemed a long way to reach APWD office, probably because I had luggage. Mr. Ganesan, Principal Engineer, APWD, and his family had come. He is on duty to inspect. After some waiting, went to Mr. Thirunavukkarasu’s quarters where 3 others are also put up. Had a bath. Water scarcity everywhere. No pipeline and the water has to be brought from a distant well. The whole body is so aching. I am dog tired. Even winking is painful. The eyes soar (sic) [sore] like anything. Due to the fan heat in the bunk. The whole day I was just lying, half awake and half asleep. At about 3.30 PM, set out and went this way and that way, to Murugan Temple and jetty. I met the Syndicate Bank Clerk, Mr. Moolon, near the jetty.[He is a new recruit from mainland India, and came in Onge to join duty here]  Onge has sailed off to Port Blair at 5 PM. Swallowed one chloroquine tab. in the morning.  Had a tender coconut and 3 dosais. Now it is 7.30 PM & I feel like lying down.

 (Parson’s Pygmalion Point)

Monday 23^rd April 1979:

Last night, I just slept in the verandah. Then after 9, I went to one teacher’s house who had left by Onge.

Had a sound sleep. Since the window pans (sic) [panes] haven’t been fixed, it was cold. There was no mosquito trouble at all. Got up as usual at 5.30 AM. Almost I had recovered from the aches, and felt quite easy and relaxed. But I was lazy and took my bath after breakfast. Went with Mr. Raghulan to his Section, then to Mr. Bhowmik’s [at Andaman Public Works Department - APWD; referred by Antony, my friend in Port Blair] Returned with them for meals [lunch]. Read some old magazines. At 5 PM went up to circuit house, then till a little distance in the road near jetty, when a poem struck me:

Where Beauty Lies…

True beauty is Nature’s beauty

Thus admiring I was strolling

And it was an enchanting evening

In the West, the Sun was painting.

Suddenly something pricked my bare foot

I tried to pull that thorny plant up by the roots.

‘Oh, no, no. Wait a bit, my boy’, cried the plant

And asked the reason for my rare walk

‘Oh, that’s none of your business’, I snapped;

‘I just walk about enjoying nature’s beauty’.

Oh, that is great! But what a pity!

Don’t you think I am a tiny bit

Of that Nature’s beauty?

Beauty lies where you find it.

Yes, the fault is in my eyes.

Thinking so I returned home.

And, whenever I pass by that side,

I water the thorny plant from the river nearby.

                                                                                … S. Balakrishnan

1979 Campbell Bay, Great Nicobar.

Was sitting in the jetty for a while. Overheard an interesting chat from which I could sketch out a drama. [But haven’t noted it down]

Snap of sunset from Campbell Bay Jetty

I was much astonished to see a kind of marine life near jetty which left behind its way a green coloured light-like thing, like a jet plane leaving smoke behind it.

Met Mr. Nedumaran, local leader of AIADMK party (All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam) and enquired about the places of interest here. He told me that Raja Rajan’s stone [ inscription?] was a false story created by some Tamilian labourers. My! How disappointed I was. What a foul game to play on!

A party was arranged by Mr. Raghulon. Mr. Thirunavukkarasu gave an entertaining show. Went to bed at 10.30 PM and very soon the generator set stopped breathing and went to soundless sleep. I won’t write more about the party, for it is not nice on my part [neither do I remember now]. [Diesel generators are the only source of power generation in Andaman & Nicobar Islands, even today!]

Tuesday 24^th April 1979:

Got up late at 6 AM, since I went to bed very late. After bath, breakfast, caught the 11 AM bus and reached 35 km. at 12.45 noon. On the way got down at 4 places since the wooden bridges are too weak. There was a marriage (Malayalee, Hindu groom & Christian bride), which is the talk from Campbell Bay to 35 km. The driver & conductor got down, ate the tiffin and then the bus started again. Had meals at a hotel at 35 km. (Rs. 2.50). Was discussing with M/s Durairajan, Sethu (of Reclamation & Rehabilitation Orgnaisation - RRO) about Pygmalion Point [now called Indira Point] and night stay.  In the evening everything was settled with everyones’ help. Had a walk. Then interviewed Mr. Ramaiah’s family for 2 hours [this appeared in Sainik Samachar - English - in 1979]. Dinner with Mr. Sethu (chapathi of their mess & omelette of his own preparation). Slept at 9 PM.

Wednesday 25^th April 1979:

Woke up at 4 AM. Got up at 4.30 AM. Took bath, etc. Didn’t take breakfast. Started at around 7 AM with M/s Balaiah and Pandiyan (Veeraian). Went by a shortcut and again met the road. Reached Galathea River at 8.15 AM. Rested at the hut. Very nice scene. High tide. Waited till 1 PM & then all crossed at around 2 PM. Reached Nicobari hut (Chingen village), had toddy & dabs (coconut) (3.15 PM). Stones, so smooth & lovely [Where, at what point?].  Then reached Lighthouse at 5 PM. Had some ‘dabs’ on the way. Was so enjoyable. Snapped sunset at 5.25 PM. “Oh dear Nature, Thank You so much”, I murmured, put some sand in my mouth and drunk (sic) [drank] the saline water.

Uppuma was prepared out of the ‘ravai’ (sooji) and we ate and lay down at 6.30 PM itself, and also the men there, since no power is there.

Thursday 26^th April 1979:

In the night there was drizzling for a while. I slept in the verandah, but no so cold at all; how, I wonder!

Woke up at 4 AM. Waited at sea shore for the sun rise. As usual, there were clouds and it came the other side. [I was foolishly gazing at the south!] Took a shot, but not so satisfied. Then went up the lighthouse. The scene was so charming. What a strong structure. 1/2" inch iron sheets.  [This structure withstood the tsunami of 2004, despite being so close to the epicenter; but it is now not on land, but surrounded by 5 metres of sea water!] Took many shots there. Balaiah snapped me near the beach, me wearing the shorts, cap, etc. Don’t know how it’ll come. Took fantastic (how do you say before developing) shots from the top.  Range of light is 18 to 22 sec. miles.

Started at 7 AM. Had tender coconuts on the way and chapattis (how thick!) with chaya at Forest Dept. men’s house. [As we took the beach route] saw ship wreck, stones polished by the waves. Bought toddy at Holchu’s [Nicobari] hut [at Chinge hamlet]. After some waiting, crossed the nallah [stream in Hindi, though Galathea is a perennial river, the only one found in Nicobar Group] with dinghy (country boat) at 1.15 PM. Reached 35 km. at 3.15 PM. Took a bath. Snapped some shots of the helping souls. Evening stroll. Dinner with Mr. Sethu and slept at 8 PM.

[For further information & interesting details, one may please refer to

balakrishnan-balusblog.blogspot.com/.../trip-to-southernmost-point...

 www.hindu.com/yw/2005/09/09/stories/2005090902290200.htm

balakrishnan-balusblog.blogspot.com/2009/.../trip-to-indira-point.ht...

Friday the 27^th April 1979:

Got up at 4.15 AM. And by RRO (Reclamation& Rehabilitation Organization) truck reached 30 km. Chatted there and by the same truck reached Campbell Bay at 10.15 AM. The truck could not cross the bridge (Prem nallah) since it was under repair and had to wait for more than 1 hour or so.

Enchased Traveler’s Cheques, chatted with Mr. Nedumaran. After lunch, was lazily lying for some time. Went to medical [hospital] for showing the toe [what happened, I don’t remember now].Then chatted in the room. Little walk.

Saturday 28^th April 1979:

Went with Mr. Thirunavukkarasu at 7 AM to 24 km. breakfasted (sic) at 18 km. Took some shots, met people there; very moving stories. Returned at 12.30 noon. Had two glassful of pure milk. [Cow’s milk is very, very rare in Andamans. We used only milk powder. Probably here the settlers were given cows to rear, hence the opportunity]. Ah, so refreshing! I enjoy going like this, meeting people, knowing their problems, etc. [as if I can solve them! What a shame!]

Sunday the 29^th April 1979: 

In the evening at 4 PM, went to Chengappa Beach along with M/s Raghul & Bhowmik and reached jetty, on the way beachcombing, and returning to room at 7 PM. Finished writing letters to Ma, Mano [sister], Suren [A.S. Surendran, my polytechnic classmate], Ms. Usha Abraham [my ex-boss in M/s Dadha Pharmaceuticals Ltd., {both in Madras /now Chennai}]  and myself [to my Port Blair address. [Do I still have this letter?]

Monday 30^th April 1979:

I tried to go by Kamakshi, a private cargo ship. Then I heard Onge is coming on 2^nd. So I gave up the idea. Posted the letters [obviously they would be carried to Port Blair by the same Onge by which I would have sailed and then onwards to mainland]. Very lazily passing the time. Getting so tired and hungry.

Tuesday 1^st May 1979:

Got up from bed at 8.15 AM only. In the noon took some snaps. I missed seeing Shompens [Shy Shompens, as they are known, who live only in Great Nicobar] who had come to collect rations. Gossiped with Mr. Nedumaran & others. There was shower in the late evening.  Monsoon has started. It seems Onge is coming on 3^rd morning. Of the 25 settlers’ families, only 17 or so are coming. Others heard the state of affairs here, it seems.

Wednesday 2^nd May 1979:

Remember this day? Just one year back arrived in Port Blair [to join duty]. Finished reading detailed project report on breakwater (200 x 950 m.) at Campbell Bay. Very interesting. How many surveys - wind, soil, sand, water, wave, etc., & calculation of cost very minutely!! I must get such reports from Mr. Hasparaj & read. In the evening, went to market and purchased eatables both for me and the mess [of friends with whom I was staying].

Thursday 3^rd May 1979:

Got up at 5.40 AM, whereas my watch showed only 5 AM. Finished bath, etc., and started from house at 7 AM. Just then Onge arrived, ½ hour late. The usual hallah-bullah of boarding in & out, and loading & unloading took place and the ship left at 10, 1 ½ hrs. beyond scheduled time. Took a last snap of jetty and sent some flying kisses to dear Campbell Bay where, I may not visit again probably. For a long time I was gazing at Great Nicobar Island. Slept from 10 ½ to 1 PM. Boring. My head has started giving all sorts of pain. I feel  better take it off. It’s so cloudy everywhere and rains every now & then. I suppose we are entering Camorta thro’ the other way. Till 5 ½ PM we haven’t reached there. At this rate, I wonder when we’ll reach Port Blair. Very shortly, say at 6.15 PM, we reached & anchored at Kamorta. It was drizzling, so I dropped the idea of going for a stroll and tiffin. Bought 2 small size breads for Rs. 2. No tea. So swallowed one as it was and had some plantains. Went to bed at 7.30 or so.

Friday 4^th May 1979:

Had somewhat a sound sleep. Woke up at 4 AM. At about 4.30 sailed off from Kamorta and reached Katchal at 6.30 AM. A jeep was unloaded and sailed off at 8.15 AM. Had 3 hrs.' sound sleep and woke up at 11.30 AM. Onge is sailing, sailing,  and sailing; at all probability, I hope, we will touch Car Nicobar at 5 PM or so. It is not calling at Teressa. So I missed seeing the fleet of Odies. From 11.30 till 6 PM had enough - vomited thrice, severe head pain (sic) [ache] and what not. At 6 PM, Onge reached Car Nicobar. I changed dress and lay down at 6 PM itself.

Saturday 5^th May 1979:

Though woke up at 4.30 AM, got up at 7 only. Bad luck! I couldn’t get tea this time also. Had a glass full of water, instead. Almost till the ship reached Port Blair, I was just lying down, half awake and half asleep. Ship berthed at 2 PM, instead of 10 AM, as scheduled. I landed at 2.10 PM. Thus ended my trip to worship Nature from the southernmost tip of India.

Thank you Mother Nature. Hope to see you in some other new place, shortly. So long then.

Had lunch, reached office, read the letters, memo [for proceeding out of headquarters without seeking specific permission], bathed, gave the film rolls for developing, went to Dy. Accountant General colony [quarters]. Reached house at 7.5 PM, cleaned almost every place. How much of dust! Went to bed at 10.45 PM. Not a sound sleep till 1 AM; because of the memo, eh? [The first memo in service, hence could be scared]. Or the rolling effect of the ferry?

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Read my posting -

Great Nicobar Island

- Geographical Details Gathered by S. Balakrishnan in 1979

Indira Point - Southernmost Point . trip in 1979

Warning: This article, written originally in 1979, is reproduced as it is, without effecting any corrections or changes, so as to preserve its originality and ‘antiquity’. Data entry in July 2005.
S. Balakrishnan
[Stenographer Jr.
Press Information Bureau
Port Blair – 744 101 A&N Islands]
krishnanbala2004@yahoo.co.in

DESTINATION SOUTH

PARSONS PYGMALION POINT! The southernmost tip of India! Lying at 6° 45’ North Latitude, at the foot of Great Nicobar Island, Parsons Pygmalion Point forms the southernmost part of India in true sense, though Cape Comorin (Kanya Kumari), at 8° 5’ North Latitude at the southern end of Peninsular India, is erroneously celebrated so. Pygmalion Point, to be very precise, is just 91 miles away from Pulo Brase off Achin Head in Sumatra Island of Indonesia, or 144 km. away from Sumatra Island. The Point is 300 nautical miles down south of Port Blair. One nautical mile is equal to 1.852 km. You can as well break your head as to how many kms. it comes to when converted, but I am not going to do that. (The Point was later renamed Indira Point, after a visit to that place by Smt. Indira Gandhi, the then Prime Minster of India.)

M.V. Onge, the inter-island ship plying between Port Blair and the Nicobar Group of Islands, berthed at the Campbell Bay Jetty of Great Nicobar Island on Sunday the 22nd April 1979. The whole town, if I may be permitted to describe Campbell Bay as a town, had gathered at the jetty. No, not because I was going there but it was only twice or thrice in a month that a ship/ferry touched Campbell Bay Jetty. Further, it was a Sunday. The Bay was named, if I’m correct, after J. Scarlet Campbell, the then Home Secretary to the Government of India, who came to Andamans to study and report on the working of the Penal System that was in operation at Port Blair.

The three-day long voyage from Port Blair to Campbell Bay was too much for me. The unhygienic stuffy bunk-cum-deck class accommodation made the journey most unbearable. (The toilet was overflowing and I was virtually fasting lest I would be forced to use it. The result was rock-like constipation and painful relief thereafter !) I needed two full days to recover from the travel weariness. For all these, they charged Rs.39.40 – for one way in bunk class without board. While taking rest, I was also gathering information about my destination – Parsons Pygmalion Point.

Everyone tried their level best to dishearten me by all possible means. Oh, what all things they said – one cautioned me that I must traverse through more than 20 miles on foot. Those 20 miles, threatened another friend, were through the deepest forests where there might by pythons, snakes, wild boars and what not. The most scaring thing was that I must swim across a river – a river that flows with great force down from the highest hills, through the deepest forests and valleys. Moreover, it was full of crocodiles too. The thought of crocs with bulging eyes and wide-opened mouth full of saw-like teeth chilled my spine. Did I know swimming, asked one voice. I blinked helplessly. From another corner came a threat that there might as well be some uncivilized Shompen and Nicobari tribal aiming their pointed arrows at aliens. A mere bluff, I learnt later, ‘cause they were all in friendly terms with us.

When I asked them, after hearing all their comments, threats and opinions, if any of them had gone there at least once, the reply from all corners was a feeble ‘no’ ! Was it because none of them had visited that prestigious place that they were preventing me also out of sheer jealousy ? I could not help doubting their good intentions. Was there no other way than to drop the idea, I asked pathetically. I ought to drop that crazy idea, came the insisting reply in chorus. There was also the most complicated process of getting a pass to enter into that area. This was really going to be a tiring business, I knew, for I had had an experience at Deputy Commissioner’s Office in Port Blair for getting the ‘Pass for entry into the reserved tribal areas’. Enough of that !

With a broken heart, which could not be put together with any brand of adhesive, I was measuring the tiny market street of the little town of Campbell Bay. Well, why not meet Mr. Nedumaran, a gentleman referred to me by a friend at Port Blair? It struck me so suddenly. Thanking my memory for its timely help, I went and met him. It was he who injected hope in me. He assured that ex-servicemen of Tamil Nadu (to which State in mainland I belong to) settled at Shastri Nagar would help me more than in one way to see that place. I made a decision, a momentous decision indeed, to start the very next morning itself towards Shastri Nagar.

The State Transport Service bus, which had seen its good times long, long back, left Campbell Bay, or ‘Zero’ km. in precise technical terms, at 11 A.M. on April 24, 1979, for Shastri Nagar. Shastri Nagar is 35 km. away from Campbell Bay town and is the southernmost civilized inhabitation. Ex-servicemen settlers had been provided temporary accommodation there before they could construct their own house and move in there. The settlers, when they talk about their places, name them in technical terms only. I mean their calling their villages by kilo meters and not by the lovely names. For an instance, Shabnam Nagar is called 18 km., Gandhi Nagar as 30 km., Shastri Nagar as 35 km. The distance is calculated with Campbell Bay as the base, which means it is 0 km. Well, to come to the original track, the bus was proceeding towards 35 km. On the way, I, along with all the passengers, had to get down from it many times, because the wooden bridges across the streams were too weak for the whole weight. After every time the bus had crossed over to the other side, there was a mad rush among the passengers to catch their thrones in the bus. On that day, there was a marriage in one of the villages (probably at 18 km.) which was the ‘talk of the island’ right from 0 km. to 35 km. The driver and conductor got down there and had hearty feast in the marriage house. Many of the passengers also got down there to attend the marriage. And then, as the bus sped down the trunk-road towards Shastri Nagar as if it had acquired some extra energy, the blah-blah of the record player from the marriage house died down.

The journey was quite interesting – the road was almost parallel to the sea shore with ups and downs. It passed through the beautiful intermediate villages of the adventurous ex-servicemen settlers. They had been drawn from the different states of India with a multi-purpose idea of giving them a new life and at the same time to man the strategically situated remote islands; that is, to live there and safeguard the frontiers, a duty which they performed sincerely when they were in the Forces. Naturally, the remote areas would be developed side-by-side. I could see their lovely hutments, and their rich green fields and plantations – the fruit of the striving lot. To put it in a nutshell, it was as interesting as any other rural area in India – calm, beautiful and above all, hospitable.

It was around 1 P.M. as the bus reached 35 km. I had a hearty meal in the only hotel there. I say it was a hearty meal, because I was proud that I was taking my lunch in the southernmost hotel and that too just for Rs. 2.50 only! Later, I got myself introduced to some personnel of RRO (Reclamation and Rehabilitation Organisation) and some ex-servicemen settlers. The RRO personnel had been stationed there to clear and reclaim the forest areas for rehabilitation purpose. They all laughed at my crazy idea of visiting that Point. But when I persisted, it was once more a repetition of dangers that I might encounter en route. I was adamant and did not yield to their threats; at least I tried to put up a show outside. Well, was that for what I had come all the way spending money like anything ? I showed my persistence. “I must go; come what may”, I just stood firmly stuck to my plan. So they had no other way than to arrange for my journey. Balaiah and Veeriah, two non-settlers, were chosen to guide and escort me en route to Pygmalion Point. Everything was fixed up and settled. I was in so a happy mood that even the chapattis (rotti) of RRO mess tasted so delicious to me. I was all dreams and could not sleep well.

At last long the day dawned – Wednesday the 25th April 1979. The unforgettable expedition started at 7 AM sharp from Shastri Nagar. Wearing shorts, a T-shirt and a cap on, my antique camera swinging from my shoulder, I was all set for the long, enjoyable walk. I thought of myself as Tensing on the Himalayan expedition. Balaiah in front and Veeriah behind me, we marched ahead.

A little later, a shortcut branched off into the woods from the trunk-road. For saving time and energy (I doubt the second point), we chose the shortcut. A half an hour walk through the steep, very narrow rugged footpath brought us again to the black-topped trunk-road. We were all sweating and heaving like tired horses. The two ‘freelance guides’ assured me that about five miles walk had been saved. Left to me, I would have desired the roundabout smooth path. Another two hours walk brought us to the Galathea Basin.

The 40.700 km. long black-topped trunk-road also ended there. The Project Yatrik had constructed this road – an appreciable effort indeed. This is called the North-South Road and is the southernmost trunk-road of our country. Likewise, there is the East-West Road of 41 km. length, also starting from Campbell Bay town. These are the only two black-topped roads in the whole of the island. A board put up by Project Yatrik at the ending point warned:
STOP
CROCS CROSSING
CROCS BURROW

It was 9.30 A.M. Now, we had to cross River Galathea. But alas, the small country boat (dinghy) was lying securely tied to on the other bank. The dinghy had been kept there for the use of lighthouse personnel. [There was no bridge then. So we had only to cross it either physically or by boat.] River Galathea drains out herself into the mighty Indian Ocean at that point. Our calculation went wrong and it was high tide then. In addition, the flow of water down the stream was unusually strong, said my guides. Drift logs were coming down the river. And there were hungry crocodiles too, I remembered and shuddered. A floating log or, for that matter, even a leaf, appeared to our eyes as hungry crocs. We startled at the sounds of falling twig or leaf into the river, because to us it was the sound of crocs’ splashing tail. The two expert guides who had crossed the river on many occasions for collecting forest products such as honey, coconuts, etc., advised me that it was better to wait till the low tide set in. With the dinghy lying on the other shore, we had no other choice but to wait and wait.

Before seeing Galathea, I had imagined of her to be of a shallow creek with ankle-deep flow. In fact, her mights are many. Perennial rivers are almost nil in the Andaman &Nicobar Group of Islands. Great Nicobar Island is the only exception. It has not one but five perennial rivers. Galathea is the principal among them. It is the longest river with 40 km. length. Near the source, which is hardly approachable due to thickest vegetation, she is about 25 ft. wide and near the mouth she is about 90’ wide with an awesome flow. She has a navigable 30 km. upwards the mouth. There are some tributaries to her. She flows down south from Mt. Thullier range. The depth ranges from 15 to 20 ft. on an average. The banks are covered with abundant growth of wild bushes, towering trees, swinging creepers and grass lands.

The name Galathea struck so strange to me. When I asked my two guides, they explained it so simply - the word ‘Galath’ in Hindi means ‘wrong / mistake / incorrect’ they explained, and said that because the river was in spate quite often and unexpectedly at that and proved ‘wrong’ the calculations about her flow and force, hence the name ‘Galathea’. Fantastic story, I chuckled to myself when I read the truth in a book, later. In 1846 AD, the Danish war vessel ‘Galathea’ voyaging around the world spent some months in the Nicobar Islands. The ‘Galathea’ expedition surveyed much of the coast for coal and other minerals. It named the principal river of Great Nicobar Island as Galathea. There is also another statement that Chola Kings of Thanjavur in Tamil Nadu knew the river quite earlier as ‘Kalathi River’.

I was most excited to stand on the sandy banks of Galathea. I remembered that the mighty Chola Kings of Tamil Nadu had these Islands under their domain and that Rajendra Chola –I himself or his naval contingent had made an expedition to the Nicobars. The inscriptions on stone and the palm leave manuscripts speak of that historical expedition. The mightiness of the naval force of the Chola Kings well back in 1050 A.D. is astonishing. I was overwhelmed with mixed feelings as I imagined myself to be the next person to set his foot on the banks of Galathea from the same Thanjavur ! My imagination went further wild and I day-dreamt that my expedition, too, would be spoken of greatly and inscribed at least on paper. Because others might fail to do this great task, I decided to accomplish the task myself.

Well, to come to the stream of story, we decided to take shelter from the scorching sun in a lovely thatched hut. The hut had been put up with an artistic taste in the mid-river, probably by Project Yatrik men. A narrow bamboo bridge linked it with the bank. We waited… waited … and waited there impatiently, every now and then watching the position of tide.

On one of our such anxious waiting near the basin, we sighted two men far off on the other bank. Balaiah told me that they must be the men of Lighthouse at Pygmalion Point. At once, we shouted in our full throat to attract their attention. They were more concentrated in hunting and fishing to listen to our shouts. Soon, they went further deep into the thicket and vanished. Our idea was that we could request them to row the dinghy to our side for our crossing the river. Eagle-eyed, we waited under the hot sun to spot them on their return. After some time, they appeared and we started shouting at the top of our voice. To attract them, I shouted that I was a reporter of a popular press at Madras (now Chennai) and that I had come all the way from there only to see them and their place, and waved my antique camera also. I wonder how I bluffed such things, that too in the top of my voice. All our calls of “oh baiah, baiah” (Oh, brother, brother) fell on deaf ears. Of course, they did turn at us once, but waved off their hands and kept coolly moving on their way. How we felt at that moment! We were completely exhausted because of the shouting and the pricking sun. Thank Goodness, some good soul had dug up a small well there. It was some four feet deep and the water was not so saline. We drank that and quietly returned to the hut and comfortably stretched ourselves down on the bamboo flooring for some time.

By around 1 P.M., the low tide was slowly setting in. As before, the two guides stepped into the river to assess the force of flow. They declared that they felt it was secure enough then to cross on foot. On the earlier occasions, they had exclaimed that the force was just terrific and reasoned in a professional tone that there ought to have been some downpour up in the hills, last night. I nodded in support of their statement. So, as they stepped in, I followed them. When I reached almost the mid-river, my legs trembled due to the strong flow. I was loosing my hold, I feared. Scared by that, I took to my heels and was again on the same bank. I was completely shaken. I felt that Galathea would have washed me away to be swallowed in by the hungry ocean. I had escaped death, and what a terrible death it would have been by the marauding crocodiles! My negative imagination is always very, very wild, to say the least. The reader might think that had I died I would not be bothering with this boring piece. Well, it is God who decides.

They had somehow managed to cross the river. On seeing me staying on the same bank, they were astonished and rather upset. What then ? Must they cross back and re-cross taking me with them ?! No, it was impossible, they shouted; the flow was dreadful and they had never experienced such a hardship while crossing. Their nervous tone plainly said that they were really shaken. Or should we return for good, they questioned. No, it was impossible. I took the opportunity to repeat their own words.

Cursing me within their hearts for my ‘courage’, they set in the task of reliving the dinghy from the muddy bank into the stream. Because low tide had set in, the dinghy stood stuck up in the muddy bank. It was only with considerable struggle that they could push and pull the dinghy into the water. The dinghy was of 12‘x 4‘ size. But alas, a giant uprooted trunk was lying flat on the way. To bring the boat to the stream they had two courses – both impossible - either lift the boat above the trunk or bring it around the trunk in the muddy bank.

On seeing them sweating, I gathered all the courage I could from all my corners and asked them to give up that effort. They went wild and shouted at me madly that I ought to have prevented them in the outset itself. I just swallowed in their hard words along with saliva. If I had to reach the desired destination, I had to keep myself very, very cool. Self-pity overwhelmed me. So one of them came up to the midstream. I stepped into the stream praying all gods, goddesses, angels and sub-angels. Camera in one had and footwear in the other, and clasping my feet to the ground for strong hold… only god knows how I crossed the mighty Galathea. I was in one piece on the other bank. We were glad that all the three reached the other bank safely. It was by then 1.45 P.M. We were much more mentally exhausted than physically. We relaxed for some time.

I shudder even to think of Galathea’s force. How innocent she looked from the banks; just like a shinning glass sheet under the Sun ! The water was so clear and still that, in a photograph taken by me, the reflection of the thickets on either banks dupes the real one ! But what a force even at the time of low tide. They (my guides) had chosen that particular spot as the safest and shallowest point for crossing purposes. The depth there even during low tide was above my waist. Then imagine the flow during high tide and during rainy seasons ! If my legs had trembled a bit more out of over fear, sure enough Galathea would have toppled me down and offered me to the monster ocean. In fact, it was only after crossing her that I realized her full might.

Before and after crossing her, I took some snaps around the place. The roots of an uprooted tree appeared as if a magnificent flower. Sharing our experience of the terrific drama, we slowly reached Chinge village.

At 2.15 P.M., we set our foot majestically on the sands of Chinge village. That village, it would be appropriate to call that as a hamlet, was merely a cluster of about five huts of the crudest form one could imagine of. That was the only Nicobare village in the whole of the East coast of that Island. Four kids and an old lady were there. All the others had gone away, probably to Campbell Bay. Earlier, while we were waiting near Galathea basin, we saw at a distance two of their Odies (native craft of Nicobarese) sail out majestically in the ocean towards Campbell Bay direction.

We were terribly hungry by then; especially me, for I ate nothing since morning. Balaiah and Veeriah had assured me of plentiful coconut palms on our way. To my dismay, we found only very few coconut palms, and neither they had any fruits. We requested the old lady for some tender coconuts. “Roopaiah ?”, she demanded for money (rupee) in her broken Hindi. We couldn’t help giggling at her Hindi. Veeriah produced three rupees, and only then did she order a five-year-old boy to pluck three, and only three, coconuts for us. I wondered that even people living in such remotest areas knew the value of money ! Even it would have taken more time for my eyes to have winked, but the little boy was atop the little coconut palm. From there he posed all smiles for a snap which I had captioned as ‘The Prince of Coconut Empire’. The cool and sweet water quenched our thirst pleasantly, but the little quantity of tender kernel increased further our hunger. But my guides were not satisfied with that: they needed something very special and strong. They asked for toddy. The old lady pretended that there was no stock at all. On much persuasion and after showing the rupee notes only, she asked one of the girls to bring from somewhere nearby a bottle of toddy. If my memory is not that bad, that cost Rs. 3/- or so. I wanted to taste toddy and so took a mouthful and gulped a little. What a pungent smell ! I spat the rest on the ground. Even that little amount that I took in was giving a burning sensation for a long time afterwards in the stomach.

The surrounding of the ‘village’ was like this: The domesticated wild boar were roaming here and there; the fowls were half asleep in the space below the raised platform of the hut; the dogs, tired of barking at us, needed some rest. A pitiable sight was of the pet parrots. The pair was kept in an open-air prison. A big ring of shell, tied and suspended from one of their little legs, was passed through the horizontal bar of the oval-shaped swing-like frame. A half coconut shell was fixed to the frame in the horizontal bar in between the two birds. This served as the basin for giving food and water. The shell made physical contact between the two impossible. I was most surprised to see such an unnatural thing done by tribal who are described as Nature’s Children ! Probably they learnt this cruel thing from the so-called civilized man who shouts that he respects individual freedom. Poor creatures! I, as well, prisoned them in my camera. The old lady set out to prepare some food. The eldest of the girls who brought the toddy bottle sat down for making balls of the red-colored pandanus paste, the staple food of Nicobarese. I tasted a bit of that; it had no taste whatsoever. The other three children, it seemed from their looks, supervised us. There was no expression of surprise at seeing a stranger with a camera and all that. In fact, I was surprised by their most sober behaviour. Strange indeed, it was only after much persuasion that I could make them agree to pose for a photograph ! The boy who plucked coconuts for us waved back at us, and the tiniest of all the four smiled very shyly at us. We left Chinge village ad proceeded on our way.

It was around 3.30 P.M. and if we were to see the sunset at Pygmalion Point, my guides warned me, I ought to hurry up. So we were forced to avoid the foreshore path, a roundabout way, and entered into the woods. Not much time after that we came across the hutment of Forest Department labourers. One of them informed us that they were surveying and clearing some nearby area for an airstrip. Whether it was for the purpose of third airline service or Air Force purpose, I forgot to ask him. Resting there for a while, we proceeded further ahead and quite soon we saw a signboard. Bearing the words ‘SHIP WRECK’ in bold capitals, the signpost pointed its arrow towards the sea. My guides assured and promised me that they would show me that on our return walk and pressed me to quicken my pace. My loitering would not help us, they decided and practically dragged me ahead. Munching the abundantly growing betel leaves, we pushed fast ahead.

The track was originally formed by motor vehicles when the Lighthouse was constructed at Pygmalion Point, I understood. It was wide enough, but was not a well-beaten path. Uprooted trees lay flat on the way and low branches and twines hit our heads. I was searching for the lurking hostile Shompen tribal men, sleeping pythons and the wild boar, but found nothing. Much appropriately, I remembered the good old catchy stanza of Robert Frost:
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

Ah, there we were ! At 4.45 P.M., we saw the lighthouse, painted brightly in white and red winding stripes, stand majestically out in a clearing. I just snapped it – of course, with my camera.

The two men whom we sighted on the other bank of Galathea were there. On the sight of them, my guides sprang upon them like hounds upon prey and involved in a nasty quarrel. Why didn’t they row the boat to our bank, demanded our guides. The flow of water was dreadful, they gave the most convincing excuse and made us dumb. I feared that if I let that continue that way, we would be thrown out helplessly into the forest that night. So I changed the subject and cooled them down.

The men’s attraction turned to my side, a new guy to them. The guides were familiar to them. They enquired about me, and I unfolded the cock-and-bull story of reporter and all that to the utmost belief of them, and very innocently changed my camera from one shoulder to the other. They believed my words, their face showed it. Well, that was what I wanted. So everything was settled amicably. I heaved a great sigh of relief and as I glanced at my wrist watch … gosh, it was 5.20 P.M. In a hurry-scurry I loaded the camera and ran to the land’s end.

The marigold Sun had almost dropped into Indian Ocean. Hurriedly I took two snaps of that most memorable scene. I had captioned the snaps as ‘Sun and Shades’, for mostly it is a silhouette of the lush green shore and clouds and reflection of setting sun’s glare in various shades on the waters. No word in any language could express my feelings of those few moments. I was overwhelmed with a mixed feeling of proud and joy as if I had achieved something very very great. I could not believe myself that I was at the southernmost tip of Indian land, the Parsons Pygmalion Point. It was more than a pilgrimage spot to me. I put into my mouth a pinch of salty sand and drunk a little of the seawater. A long penance had been fulfilled. A dream had come true. An indescribable feeling of serenity ruled over there and it was awesome. “Oh, Mother nature, thank You so much!”, I gasped. And, as I closed my eyes, two drops of tear rolled down my cheeks and mingled with the mighty mass of salt water.

I had had to face many problems and difficulties to fulfill my this desire. On such occasions, I gathered hope and strength by sincerely believing that Mother Nature would never let me down as I was on a pilgrimage to adore Her. I was quite right. I hope that she would, one day or another, help me stand at the Northernmost point of India – amidst towering Himalayas, snows and clouds !

Out of the provision we took with us, the men got stew prepared for us at their house. We ate that; though not so nice, we had to and drank water and more of water, because that was neither sufficient for us three. Quite soon, may be as early as 6.30 PM itself, all of us went to bed. There was no electricity and we had nothing to do either. Moreover, we were dog-tired of the day’s journey. The Ocean sung lullabies and sent humming breeze for us, and I entered into the world of dreams. I had a fantastic dream that I had victoriously voyaged to the southern and northern Poles. There is no limit to one’s ambitions, is it not? Though we slept on the open verandah, just 200 metres away from the ocean, it wasn’t cold at all. No mosquito trouble either. As if to add to my happy mood, the sky drizzled for a little while in the midnight.

The dawn found me at the seaside. It was just nearing 4 AM and there was very dim light. The sereneness of the dawn was so enchanting and inexpressible. The sounds were all roused by Nature --- the roaring Ocean, the buzzing breeze, chirping birds and rustling flora --- it was all so lively and lovely. I couldn’t help thinking that man was probably the only creature of Nature that did not enjoy all that charming beauties (of early morning). I was ashamed that I had been so lazy all the past to have missed such a beautiful beginning everyday. Well, that thought was a momentous one. There is no equal pleasure to be lying half awake and half asleep in the bed in the early mornings. Am not I correct? I wished I could merge with that eternal tranquility once for all. The sky was booming with clouds of all shapes and shades. With that background and the waves gently washing my feet, I made a photo of myself. This I captioned as ‘The Sun, Sky, Shore, Sea and Self’. I was wondering why the sun had not risen up as yet. Was he shy of me, or afraid of me ? And, as I turned around, fed up of looking at the same direction, so as not to miss the sunrise as I had almost missed last evening’s sunset, I found to my astonishment that Sun had already risen! How would he rise in the South! I realized that all that time I had been foolishly staring the South. Thus, I missed the golden scene.

I consoled myself that yet another wonderful day had blossomed without my knowledge, as it happens everyday when I struggle to get up from my bed. Later, they (the men working at the lighthouse) took us to the top of the lighthouse. What a marvelous scene from the top! The vast ocean on all the three sides – a blue sheet with twinkling star-like water diamonds. And the blue sky above it like an umbrella. The fourth side was lush green; you can’t find anywhere so many shades in green --- light green, parrot green, dark green, dark black green, and so on. After taking belated snaps of the risen sun and the forest around, we climbed down by the winding staircase.

The lighthouse towers up to a height of 100 ft. It is almost an out and out construction of steel sheets of about ½ inch thickness. Though so close to the ocean, I wondered, how it withstood the sea breeze and strong gales and resisted from rusting. A magnificent construction. The light operates on gas; but at that time as there was no gas, it did not flash any light. The plight of the lighthouse at such a strategic point struck me sorrowfully. I read somewhere in an article that the range of light is 18 to 22 miles/sec. A wooden plaque reads that the lighthouse was inaugurated by the then Vice-President, Mr. Pathak, in 1973. The men told me that the construction work started as back as in 1969. The lighthouse has been safely constructed at a chosen place, which is called the South Bay, 300 nautical miles down south of Port Blair.

The men shared their morning tea with us. What is satisfying to the mind needn’t always be good to our health. I mean taking tea or coffee in the morning (or, for that matter, any time) is to the liking of the mind, but it is not agreeable to our health in the long run. But who minds that and that too when you get it free of cost ! It is more tastier. The men were getting ready for a hunting expedition. I was so proud and also jealous of them. Because they lived in the most remotest area and at the same time away from all happenings and complications of this insane modern world. “These daredevil men”, I admired them within my heart and made them pose for a photo near the base of the towering lighthouse. Their transistor, if at all they had one, was their only agent to know what was going on around them. We people can’t even imagine of such a ‘vexing life’- no dailies and magazines (but Thoreau says “Blessed are they who never read a newspaper, for they shall see Nature and, through her, God”), no other human being than themselves, no shop, no electricity, no films, no this thing and no that thing… no…no… no… ! What a sacrificed living, I was amazed. But then, theirs was also the most sacred living with only the Nature all around them. I prayed sincerely for a moment for the welfare of those boldest men, their bold ladies and tiny tots.

Thanking them sincerely for all their helps, we left that place. Leaving my heart in that most intriguing Point, I carried along with me from the prestigious place a handful of beach sand, a cute shell picked up from that Point, besides photographs. My soul was much tranquil. It was 7 AM, the same time we left Shastri Nagar the previous day.

We had plenty of time on our hand and neither were we in a hurry to return to the intricate society of ours. Therefore, we decided unanimously, of course after some hot debate, to go by the foreshore path. We had some tender coconuts on our way. A look around – below the trees – clearly indicated that the mischievous monkeys had wasted much of the coconuts even before they ripened (matured) well.

I was bugging them like anything that we should not miss the shipwreck, that they got fed up and dragged me to that spot. Whom it belonged to and when and how it wrecked there, I had no idea. So I asked my all-knowing guides. They told in a most sincere tone that it was a Japanese junk and that it got wrecked there due to bombing by the British during II World War. They wanted me to believe that. So, to satisfy them I uttered an astonished ‘Really !’. How far their statement is true, I had no chance to know till now. An anchor and something which appeared like a storage tank were lying ashore. A portion of the sunken ship was peeping out of the Ocean a little distance away. I could very easily remove a piece of the rusted chunk, which is still with me reminding me of those memorable moments.

This time also, we dropped into the lovely little huts of Forest Department labourers. They offered dry chapathi (called ‘chukka rotti’ in Hindi, because it is cooked without applying any oil) and a glass full of black tea (Where from they could get milk in that mid forest?). I was taught that chapathi pieces should be soaked into the tea and eaten. I must admit that I had never seen chapathis of that enormous size – ¼” thick and about 5” in diameter! However, it tasted nice. May be because we were also hungry. A relative boy of them who had come all the way from Katchal Island to see them, joined us from there. Having no company of equal age to play with him there, he was adamant that he ought to leave with us for Campbell Bay. Passing through the woods for some time, we were, once again, back on the silvery sandy beach.

At a distance I could see a huge mass of black rocks. The waves dashed against them and sprinkled pearls in all directions which, sunlit, shined in all the colours of the rainbow. At times, the rocks were completely merged under the waves and as the waves withdrew, the rocks shined like a mass of black gold. Remarkably, I noticed that as far as I could see, that was the only spot with visible coral rocks in the whole of the coastline.

Polished for centuries together by the Ocean with much pain and care in a craftsmanship-like manner, the stones were in so cute shapes that I wished I was rich enough to hire out a vessel to carry all of them to my p(a)lace. Because I am not rich enough for that, they are lying there with nobody to appreciate their beauty. In times of high tides, my guides cautioned, it was risky to walk over the rocks, as one might be dashed off by the waves against the rocks. I mused why some people always looked at the darker side of things! Were they being too cautious or were they pessimists ? We did not have the chance to see the rocks while we went by the wood path. Slowly, slowly the spot came closer to us (not that it was coming towards us, but it came closer because we were going towards that). We waited for an opportunity and when it was tide less, “Quick march”, we shouted and walked over the rocks. As I was appreciating and feeling the beauty of the superbly shaped and polished rocks, I was left behind. They shouted at me and there! A big wave was rolling fast towards that spot. But for a hiding place besides a big rock, I would have been fully drenched!

A while later, we were on the sands of the tiny Chinge Village. This time also, only the same souls were there – four children and the old lady. Balaiah and Veeriah bought two toddy bottles (at my cost!). The odour was much worse this time. How on earth people had a liking for such a stuff, I was amazed. I picked up a piece of the hard outer skin of the Pandanus fruit (being so hard, it can as well be described as the outer skull). The upper part was as hard as a piece of wood, whereas the lower part had fibers, making that piece appear like a brush, a short, stubby brush. The Nicobarese, Balaiah told, use such brush-like things for brushing their body while bathing. To this, the other ‘anthropologist’ Veeriah opposed that Nicobarese rarely took bath. At this, both of them got involved in a very hot discussion. As we left this time, the tiny tot also, along with that boy, waved back at us. But the two elder girls were the most careful not to show any sort of expression on their face and stared at us like stone statues. Bidding farewell to the Chinge Village and the Sons of the Soil, we walked towards the Mighty Galathea River.

River Galathea, it appeared to me, wanted to test our patience once more. Bad luck for us, the low tide had not set in. We had purposefully walked so slowly, wandering hither and thither and taking enough rest, allowing time for low tide to set in. But Galathea was flowing with all her might saying ‘nuts to you’. While we were waiting below the shady trees, I thought that as I come from Tanjore where River Cauvery flows, I should title my writing as ‘Cauvery to Galathea’. However, later I changed it to ‘Destination South’, a most appropriate one, my destination being the real southernmost end. ‘Destination South’ was a scheme drawn by the Tourism Deptt. of India in collaboration with Air India with a view to popularize the Southern States of India among foreign travellers. Thanks to the brain which coined these words, the most suitable to my story.

Well, though the dinghy was lying at our bank only, we dared not cross the river which was running forcefully. We were just in the same position of those Lighthouse men who refused to row the boat to our bank, the day before. While we were waiting helplessly on the southern bank, some of the Forest Deptt. labourers who had been to Campbell Bay the previous day for some purchases, appeared on the northern bank. Their impatient attempts at crossing the river were a sight of fun for us. They stepped into the river many times, but afraid of the flow, retreated. Even without waiting patiently for some five minutes, they would again unsuccessfully attempt every time. On one of their such attempts, they somehow reached the mid river but retreated much scared. At last long, they crossed to our bank, completely exhausted. The water was up to their chest. They needed rest; chatting with us for some time, they moved on their way towards their hutments in the lovely, deep forest.

After patient waiting for some time, we noticed marked signs of receding water level. The hidden parts of fallen trees came to the view and the sandy area expanded rapidly. So we decided to move. We struggled for some time to push and pull the dinghy out of the place it was left by us the previous day, into the stream. We all jumped in and my expert freelance guides took the oars to prove their expertise in oaring. I handed over my life to them and sat ‘happen what may’. The boat approached the mid stream and then … it whirled once violently. Finished, I thought. My imagination, as usual, ran wild and I decided my life woud end either at Galathea, the hungry crocs tearing me into pieces, or in the Ocean. Our scared movements made the boat tilt more dangerously to the sides. By the Grace of Mother Nature, I’m damn sure about this, the situation was somehow tactfully managed by them and we landed on the northern bank safely. If I say that it all happened within a minute, one may not believe me. But the whole journey by itself from one to another bank consumed a bare five minutes only. As it was too shallow near the bank, we jumped over board and the boat was pulled to a safer place and tied there securely. Thank God! Body and soul together, we were safe on the other bank. The hazardest part of the expedition was over, we were glad, and there was no more hurdle. The wristwatch showed me 1.15 PM.

We took the same course while returning … trunk-road, then shortcut through woods and again trunk-road. On the way we came across gangs of monkeys (Nicobar Macaque, the species is called and is found only in Nicobar Group of Islands). I sighted, if my eyes didn’t fool me, (of course, I was wearing my specs) a peculiar species of squirrel whose back had no three stripes and was completely light black in colour. As Shastri Nagar was approaching ahead, we grew more and more hungry and we straight away rushed into the hotel and gulped in whatever was available. The hotel owner was a clever man; he took this situation to his full advantage and served us all those eatables which were lying unsold for days together in the showcase. It was 3.15 PM when we reached 35 km.

As the cry of the stomach was met with, I could not think of other things and it struck me that I ought to take a bath. After a refreshing bath, I photographed all those souls who helped me (to) make my expedition a great success. In the evening, I strolled around the settlement. After dinner, went to bed right at 8 O’clock. As its desire had been fulfilled, the heart was brimming with joy and having walked all the way, my body demanded (for) complete rest. So, needless to say, I had a sound, snoring sleep. Well, that was the story of my Great, Great Expedition to India’s truest Southernmost Point – The Parsons Pygmalion Point ! A thing that intrigues me even to this moment (it might as well intrigue you) is that how that Point got that name? Sounds very silly, nay? Having gone all the way down not knowing the origin of the name Parsons Pygmalion Point !
…..
.

S. Balakrishnan
[Stenographer Jr.
Press Information Bureau
Port Blair – 744 101
A&N Islands]
December 5, 1979.


Warning: This article, written originally in 1979, is reproduced as it is, without effecting any corrections or changes, so as to preserve its originality and ‘antiquity’. Data entry in July 2005. krishnanbala2004@yahoo.co.in