Setting out to sea
It’s a sunny afternoon by the time I get to my launch site in Kozhikode where my kayak is nestled safely amidst others at the Jellyfish watersports center. Kaushiq’s team has been most hospitable and we’ve lived off of the banana leaf for a day now. The break has let me relax my fingers that have recently started to ache from the hours of holding a paddle tight. And yet, we spent most of yesterday on the water, taking a group of kids out into the back water, and putting up a sail on Kaushiq’s single seated topper.
Having kayaked in the Chaliyar river no less than 5 times, I know this river. It’s ripe with memory. Whether it’s the first time that Shanjali and I kayaked down it together, a 3 day 70 km river ride in the warm september of 2015, or the time I trained 20 kids on kayaking technique for Holi in 2016. So, now when I’m kayaking the 3,000 km long West Coast of India, this is an ideal place to call home. Even if it’s for just a day.
As I put my kayak into the water, I realise I left my jacket back at Kaushiq’s house, 5 kms up the river. Not a good omen. It’s never cold in Kerala and with the afternoon stretching out in front of me, I don’t welcome the prospect of being burnt alive. Nonetheless, I set out into the calm water. It doesn't afford the same exhilarating experience of punching through a 6 foot tall wave of water, but it has the luxury of being dry for the first 30 minutes of a 7 hour work day.
Kerala’s back waters have a well deserved name for their beauty, and no where is this more evident than on a kayak, bang in the middle of it. The meandering river is wide, a km long at some crossings and I enjoy the river pushing me slowly out to sea. To the right I see the majestic white scrawl of ‘Calicut Tile Factory’ on a red building, now unused but still standing tall. As the river turns, I hit Feroke bridge and the hum of the daily life I’ve left behind hits me as cars and buses whiz past without a care for an odd 18-foot long white kayak with a kayaker minus his jacket. Past the Bhagavati temple who’s legs stretch out into the river, poles where I can tie a kayak and enjoy a nice afternoon on cold marble. I speed on.
As the river turns into it’s mouth, it gets even wider, and I appreciate the coconut trees on either side heralding the coming of the salt tide. Things often get choppy at Calicut harbour but not today. With a departing tide, I find the water levels reduced. So low infact, that as the boys from the village spot me paddling in the middle of the river, my paddle touches the bottom of the river. As they wave and beckon me to them, I can step out of my kayak and put my two feet down on solid ground. All around me is water and I’m standing knee high in the river. I wave at the kids I will not meet and jump back in.
Calicut harbour is a small port. Tothe left of me, the fish market, where the smaller ships bring in their haul. Bid for, and topped off with ice, it’s packed into the back of a truck and shipped off in-land. To the right are the big fishing vessels. Traditionally built right here in Calicut, they tower over me almost 2 storeys high. And they are colourful. Reds and Blues, Yellows and Greens, all in one boat with streamers flying the light wind and bobbing to the clash of the river water and the sea. Calicut has a route to Lakshwadeep and the coast guard and navy usually have a boat out here. And just as I think it, one of them starts out from the harbour. The gleaming white of the coast guard and I remember fondly the commaner of the Okha port, Harish More, who saw me off at Dwarka, Gujarat when I started this expedition a good 2 months ago.
As I draw up to the coast guard boat, I marvel at the ease at which it glides in the water. I’m paddling hard to stay abreast of the white metal beast when two officers call out to me. Between paddles I tell them I’ve travelled ~2,000 kms to be here. ‘On That?’ they question. I laugh as I paddle — ‘Yes’. They question me about papers I don’t have and I tell them I’ll see them very soon in Kochi. As the mouth of the harbour comes to an end, I stay back to watch for the breaking waves, as the coast guard vessel passes straight out to sea. It’s day 67. And I have 16 more to go.
I write about kayaking, adventure sports & associated ecosystems in India.
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