A trip to Indira Point: Down memory lane, 37 years back
- Part 1 -

S Balakrishnan *

A cute shell and a handful of beach sand in a glass jar occupy the pride of place in my showcase. 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; that tsunami has not only devoured that Land’s Tip but also the lives of the men and members of their families (in all 20) who were looking after the lighthouse there, besides a group of international scientists on a research visit. I shudder even to imagine that the very place where I stood admiring sunset and sunrise is now under 4.5 metres (almost 15 ft.) of water!

But then it was in 1979, almost 40 years ago! 25 years before tsunami. With the prevailing conditions then, it was a sort of an expedition, or even a pilgrimage for me to visit that destination.

Parsons Pygmalion Point – that was how the Point was known before it was renamed Indira Point after the visit of Smt. Indira Gandhi, the then Prime Minister, to that spot. Lying at 6° 45’ North Latitude at the foot of Great Nicobar Island, the southernmost Island of the Andaman & Nicobar group of islands (Union Territory), the Point is 2°05’ further down than the much-celebrated Kanyakumari (8°5’).

The tip is just 91 miles away from Pulo Brase off Achin Head in Sumatra Island of Indonesia, or 144 km away from Sumatra Island proper. From Port Blair, the capital town of the Island Territory, Indira Point is 300 nautical miles down south. (1 NM = 1.852 km). You can as well break your head in converting the distance; I’m not going to do it.

The three-day-long journey from Port Blair to the Campbell Bay Jetty of Great Nicobar Island – touching Little Andaman (‘Onge’ tribe live here), Car Nicobar (the district headquarters of Nicobar Group of Islands where the Nicobaris are concentrated), Nancowry (an excellent natural harbour), Kamrota (traditional habitation of Nicobaris) and other islands on the way – cost me Rs 39.40 (bunk class without boarding)!

When people heard of my ‘crazy’ plan to visit the Point, it was discouragement of all sorts by persons who had never ever considered visiting that unique place. But I was determined, as a true explorer ought to be; kudos to me!

My first aim was to reach Shastri Nagar, 35 km from Campbell Bay. It was the southernmost civilized inhabitation of India where ex-servicemen settlers had been temporarily accommodated before they could construct their own house and move in. The bus journey from ‘Zero’ km. (Campbell Bay) to Shastri Nagar was an amusing one.

As the bus had to cross many wooden bridges on the way, which would not bear the weight of the passengers also, the passengers were offloaded before the bridges. After crossing over, it was a mad scramble to conquer their respective thrones! I still remember a wedding taking place in one of the villages (probably at the 18th Km. – people preferred ‘kilometre-names’ to the newly-given ‘Nagar-names’), which was the ‘talk of the Island’.

Many of the passengers got down there to attend the wedding, and both the bus driver and conductor enjoyed a hearty feast amidst the blaring of a record player, before resuming the journey.

The North-South Trunk Road runs almost parallel to the seashore, passing through beautiful wayside villages of the adventurous ex-servicemen settlers. They had been drawn from the different states of mainland India with a multipurpose idea of giving them a new life and, at the same time, manning the strategically-situated remote islands and developing them side-by-side.

So to say, to safeguard the motherland even after retirement! Their humble hutments, with the wild jungle, rich green fields and plantations as the background, presented a perfect picture-postcard look. It is saddening to learn that besides taking the lives of many of these settlers, the fruits of years of their hard work in an entirely new, peculiar and hostile environment had also been washed away by the tsunami.

I was hungry when the bus reached 35 km. (Shastri Nagar) at 1 PM. I had a hearty lunch at the only hotel there – ‘the southernmost eatery of India’ – for Rs. 2.50. What a record! Of course, in that southernmost land bit, needless to say, everything is the southernmost! I got myself introduced to some ex-servicemen settlers and a few personnel of RRO (Reclamation & Rehabilitation Organisation), who were only too happy to meet an ‘alien’; they readily agreed to render all assistance for my ‘dubious’ expedition to the ‘god-forsaken point’.

Balaiah and Veeraiah, two non-settler visitors and in their 20s, were chosen as my escorts. I was then 23 years, so we synced well together. With everything fixed, I was so exited that even the dry rottis and watery dhal of the RRO mess tasted quite delicious. It was all dreams and no sleep that night.

It was 7 AM sharp, Wednesday the 25th April 1979, the D-Day, when we started trekking. After walking for a while on the trunk road, we took a shortcut; this would save us five miles of walk, my guides assured. Sweating and panting, after half an hour’s climb through a steep, narrow and rugged path, we again touched the blacktopped road.

Another two hours walk brought us before a board put up by Project Yatrik which warned, “STOP. CROCS CROSSING. CROCS BURROW”. It was the end of the 40.700-km-long North-South Trunk-road. We were at Galathea river basin.

River Galathea is one among the five perennial rivers of the Territory, all of which are found only in the Great Nicobar Island. She courses through 40 km from Mt Thullier range to the Indian Ocean. Her width ranges from 25 ft. to 100 ft. and depth, 15 to 20 ft. She is navigable 30 km upwards from the sea shore. Though she wore a deceptive look of a calm and smooth-flowing river, I realized her force as we waded across during low tide, for which we had to wait for 3 ½ hours. It was chest-deep water even during low tide.

Our next point of halt was Chingen hamlet, a cluster of five huts of the Nicobari tribal. Great Nicobar Island is the only abode of ‘Shompens’; as they prefer to avoid contacts with the so-called civilized society, they are called ‘Shy Shompens’. We quenched our thirst with tender coconuts @ Rs. 1/- My escorts shared among themselves a whole bottle of toddy for Rs. 3/- We continued to trudge through the jungle path, avoiding the roundabout beach route, as we had to reach the Point before sunset.

We came across some men who were clearing the forest for an airstrip. Munching the abundantly growing wild betel (paan) leaves, we proceeded ahead. In the meanwhile, I was scouting for nests of Megapod bird, also called Thermometer Bird for its unique ability to maintain appropriate temperature of its egg-hatching mound.

As I stood on the beach of the Parsons Pygmalion Point, with the gentle waves lapping at my feet, it was 5.20 PM. It was a brilliant sunset, a mesmerizing moment, captured in black & white though! It was so serene and silent that I even felt a bit scared.

To believe in myself that I was really at the Land’s Tip, I put into my mouth a pinch of the beach sand and drank a few drops of the seawater. Believe me, the ocean water tasted sweet as a reward of my persistence! I was overwhelmed by a mixed feeling of achievement, happiness and oneness with Mother Nature, and two drops of my tears mingled with the mighty ocean water.

To be continued....