Features: Magazine | Literary Review | Life | Metro Plus | Open Page | Education Plus | Book Review | Business | SciTech | Friday Review | Young World | Property Plus | Quest | Folio |

ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

She saw sea shells…

PHOTO: Soma Basu

SILVERY SHEET The twin light houses on Hare Island

Remember, anglicised Tuticorin is Thoothukudi now. So, once you get there don’t make the mistake of asking for directions to “Hare Island”. I was lost for a good 30 minutes as I drew a blank each time. Helpful people rattled off the names of several other beaches but didn’t seem to know Hare Island. After a few hits and misses, I reached the Port beach where luck smiled on me. An autorickshaw driver smiled and said, “You mean Muyal Theevu.” (‘Muyal’ is the Tamil word for ‘hare’ and ‘Theevu’ for island!)

Glad that I broke the code, I headed towards my RLT destination, which is roughly four km from the Tuticorin Port beach further South.

But what was this? Suddenly the road narrowed leading to a ‘no-entry’ zone. Small, neat buildings, painted light yellow came into sight on my left, and on my right was a tall spiked fence. On it hung a board that said “Red Zone. Restricted Entry. Indian Navy.”

I was about to retreat from the Naval campus when I saw two pairs of eyes peering at me from behind the sand bags at the check post. I hesitantly asked the armed guards whether Muyal Theevu was in the same direction, and whether they would allow me entry. I was surprised when they ushered me in with a wave of their hands. What luck, I told myself, because the area, being under the purview of the Indian Navy, is prohibited to visitors.

I drove on slowly on this truly less travelled road which got narrower, curved a few times, and ended right on the beach. The beach had an unusually grey and white sand. It sparkled as the tiny, white frothy waves washed the shore.

The beach was strewn with corals and shells. The rippling water was silvery grey, as the sun glistened over it. Barely visible on the horizon was a small red and white boat. Further away was a big red cargo vessel almost standing still in the middle of the silent sea. In its foreground were two pairs of pelicans doing a little song and dance.

A group of noisy villagers on their way home from a nearby church passed by. One of the boys, Maniamman, stopped in front of me waving a string of crabs. Ten rupees each, he said pointing to the empty spaces on the string, meaning how fast they were selling. I followed the group till we reached a dilapidated watch tower.

Except for a few concrete steps that were intact, the walls and the roof lay in ruins Near the fallen watch tower, I also spotted two light houses standing adjacent to each other — one old, and, the other, new. Both had been identically painted in black and white stripes. I enquired with the local authorities who told me that Muyal Theevu had been identified for tourism development.

But how did the island get its name? Even the Government Gazette records it as Hare Island though there is nothing “fast” about it. On the contrary, it is an enchanting place where the sea is tranquil and the island deserted. The locals said Muyal Theevu is better known as Raja Theevu or Pandian Theevu. History has it that the indigenous people, the Paravars, famous for pearl fishing, resorted to mass conversion, and were persecuted by the Nayaks of Madurai. So they fled from Tuticorin to Muyal Theevu, from where they migrated again in course of time. Muyal Theevu is known for its healthy ecosystem of coral and sea grass.

It is considered a haven for sea cows (dugongs).

Printer friendly page  
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail