India: Sailing the Serene Kerala Backwaters

 

 

Our India odyssey continues. After 10 days of intense ayurvedic treatment on the coast at Kovalam, we head for the celebrated Kerala Backwaters, 175 km  north. Our treatment had involved daily health checks, a bland dosha diet, no coffee or grog, deep tissue massages, yoga and enough essential oils to shame a dolmade. It worked: we’re glowing, rejuvenated, de-stressed and refreshed as we load up to leave.

Now sans our bumptious wheel man, Murugan, we call a cab for the run to Alappuzha. Leaving the retreat proves a mite fraught, though, as we had inadvertently ordered a taxi from outside the local racket, evidently a mortal sin in Kovalam. Loafing neighbourhood cabbies spot him arrive and spring to life with surprising vim. They form a rowdy mob outside the gate and forcing our ‘blackleg’ driver to run a gauntlet of loud falsetto insults and bonnet thumping as we flee their preposterous turf war.

But peace and tranquillity return several hours later when we arrived at the Kannankara jetty where our Kettuvalan houseboat awaited.

We’ve booked 48 hours plying the idyllic waterways and piled aboard. Our friendly skipper, first mate and cook greeted us, loaded supplies and soon we are underway. The skipper sets a course down Vembanad Lake.

 

 

Seated like Antony and Cleopatra in the outdoor dining area, a soft lake breeze cooling us, we are served a delicious Keralan lunch of grilled fish, beans and red cabbage with grated coconut, spicy yoghurt and local rice, with fresh pineapple juice. It ‘s nice to sip an ice-cold post-prandial Kingfisher beer after the solemn temperance of Ayurveda. It’s also a joy to be a world away from the traffic jams and smog of the taxi run up.

 

 

The backwaters lie parallel to the Arabian Sea on the Malabar Coast and consist of a network of lakes, rivers, inlets, lagoons and canals extending half the length of Kerala. Despite the area having been settled for millennia, they are rich in flora and fauna and support the populations of a scattering of villages and towns. The locals have a vested interest in maintaining a healthy and thriving backwaters ecology and these efforts add to the natural splendour of cruising the region.

 

 

Our Kettuvalan is a little bit of luxury, featuring all we need for our relaxing spell out on the water.

While you wouldn’t know it, there are more than 2000 of them puttering about the waterways. The Kettuvallam (plural) were traditionally used as grain barges, to transport the rice harvested from the fields surrounding the backwaters. Most have thatched roof covered wooden hulls, average about 30m in length and are motorised. (However, there are several designs, including large double decked versions catering to big groups.)

 

 

Today they have all been converted to accommodate guests. Ours features an air-conditioned sleeping cabin, open air dining and comfortable, cushioned foredeck seating. The skipper’s wheel is in the bow and crew quarters and galley in the stern.  Our living-dining area is open on at three sides providing views of the shoreline, waterways, other boats and wildlife.

Reaching the southern end of the lake, we disappear into the labyrinth of rivers and canals and our adventure begins.

 

 

Along the lush shores are local villagers going about the daily chores, ladies washing clothes in the canals, children splashing in the shallows, and fishermen in dugouts hauling their catch. There is also rich birdlife with all manner of exotic species darting and swooping around the boat. Other Ketuvallam pass to and fro, their guests exchanging waves and smiles, all clearly as chirpy as us.

 

 

We are fascinated to spot an enormous flock of well-behaved ducks being herded on the water by men in two canoes. The first mate tells us each day the duck farmers take their flock (many hundreds of birds) to the best feeding grounds, before returning home to their designated ‘roost’.

 

 

Our first stop is the village of Champakulam, home to a small canal-side market and the striking Kalloorkad St. Mary’s Basilica.

 

 

According to traditional accounts, in AD52 Saint Thomas the Apostle travelled outside the Roman Empire, reaching India’s Malabar Coast by sea to preach the gospel. He is said to have established seven Christian communities in the region, one of these being at the site of the current St. Mary’s Basilica. The first church edifice on the site was said to have been built by Syrian Christians in AD 427, making it one of the oldest churches in India.

 

 

The current incarnation is a delightful, imposing building and attracts pilgrims from all over Kerala, which has one of the nation’s largest Christian populations at 18%. Fortunately, in this State, Hindus, Muslims and Christians co-exist happily and there are very rarely the religious tensions sometimes found in other parts of the country.

Strolling back to the boat, we peruse the markets and chat to the locals. At one point Jacqui, drawn to a small ornament, is lured into an artsy shop by its effusive proprietor, who swfitly closes the door behind her and attempts to become a little too familiar with an uninvited hug. She’s gone before you can say “naff off, creep,” and once he hears her sorry tale, our first mate indicates he’s ready to confront the offending fellow – but on reflection, we decide to simply sail off. Doubtless one day St. Thomas will send retribution to Mr Touchy-Feely – or the first mate will.

 

 

Calm descends on the boat once more, and with the sun sinking, we steam on to our mooring for the night. It’s alongside a home deep in the canal country, and the crew run a cable to the house to power the boat. They put out incense coils (mainly for the mozzies) and light lanterns, adding to the nocturnal ambiance of this wild, watery place.

 

 

Just after dawn two fellows arrive in a long, motorised dugout canoe to take us for a tour around smaller canals and waterways. They point out the local plants, animals and birds as we visit lesser-known, beautiful, parts of the backwaters.

 

 

The shorelines between villages are lined with thick emerald trees and vines, dappled with colourful tropical flowers. The tranquil waterways are strewn with islands of lily pads and water hyacinth (the latter an unwanted invasive species here, like many tropical waterways around the world) which add to the beauty.

 

 

One of our canoe guides makes a traditional lotus flower necklace for Jacqui.

 

 

Back at the boat we enjoyed a hearty Kerala breakfast and fine local coffee, before gliding on to our next stop: a bike tour through the countryside to a couple of villages and temples.

 

 

The crew pull out bicycles and we’re off to visit the impressive Sree Nagaraja Hindu Temple, which is surrounded by a bustling market. It’s a hive of activity, and we buy a few knicknacks as mementos.

 

 

It’s here we stumble upon a fascinating ceremony. We spot a baby, about six months old, being weighed on a scale. On the opposite scale, sacks of rice are piled up. The weight of the baby in rice determines how much the family must donate to the temple. Being plump and healthy, the bub presumably equates to a goodly sum for the temple coffers. Bring ya fat ones?

 

 

Then we’re off to the nearby, slightly eery Snake Temple, where villagers queue to light oils and bow to their deity. Music is a key element at the temple and catchy, almost jazzy melodies, played on wind instruments, waft from within the sanctuaries. All delightful, exotic stuff.

We then cycle to see a local celebrity elephant called Appu, which, whether it likes it or not, has its own Instagram account, and a global following. We are able to give him a pat, which he seems to appreciate.

 

 

Sadly, the poor pachyderm is tethered with a hefty manacle and chain, as is the Indian way. Hardly the ideal existence, but he seems content enough munching carrots and posing for selfies.

 

 

I notice I have a rear-tyre puncture on the 4km ride back to the boat, so clatter along the backroads like a Japanese soldier on the rim. Yet despite the slight transport setback it’s a wonderful outing on terra firma for we roving boaties.

 

 

Back on board, another delicious traditional lunch is served, as we glided through more canals and watch villagers in brightly painted homes going about their day. Unfortunately, global warming means many of these waterside properties must now endure regular flooding. Even so, nobody’s keen to move from their little paradise.

 

 

Pulling up at a rural village, we again head ashore for another stroll. It’s a timeless place of farmers’ huts, small gardens and friendly, smiling locals working the rice paddies and plantations. We even spot a mongoose scuttling along a hedgerow, a real-life Rikki-Tikki-Tavi nosing about for cobras.

 

 

With the day advancing, the skipper sets a course east over to the Kainakary area and we cruise slowly down one of the major canals there. The birdlife is spectacular.

 

 

We see kingfishers, darters, herons, sea eagles, parrots, Brahminy kites (one of my favourites) and many others. It is a birdwatching, twitcher’s Nirvana.

 

 

That night we moor in a remote section at the east side of the waterways. Several other Kettuvalan skippers pull up nearby. It’s a lovely location to watch the sunset and spend the night.

 

 

However, we are warned to make sure we lather on our mosquito repellent, as the area is known for the little biters. There are a number of mosquito borne diseases in the area, including malaria, Japanese encephalitis and dengue. However, with the right precautions, cases of these are rare. (We took our GP’s advice and had injections for tropical diseases before the trip.)

It’s a beautiful, serene place. We watch the evening canoe fishermen working the glassy waters through curling wisps of incense smoke and lantern light.

 

 

Next morning we steam for home base, heading up the east side of Vembanad Lake, passing several of the resorts and hotels offering accommodation to lake visitors who opt not to stay on boats.

Then we cut west across the lake (India’s longest) towards the opposite shore. Both Jacqui and I take the helm on this leg, so we can honestly brag we have steered a Kettuvalan through those legendary waters.

 

 

What a trip it was! The backwaters aboard a houseboat were truly a highlight of our odyssey in Southern India. We would highly recommend the experience to anyone.

A cab’s waiting at the dock, ready to whisk us 40kms up the Malabar coast to fabled Kochi (Cochin), our final destination.

Photographs: Peter Rigby