Beyond the Vanishing sea

Chandipur is that unique beach in this part of the world where nature’s drama unfolds every day in its magical ebb and high tide, which is quite unpredictable. As the local people say, this phenomenon depends on the moon cycle.

 I reached the beach with my husband at noontime. To my surprise, the sea had receded almost 5 km away. People walked across the wet sand, seeking the coastline, far away. A seller of green coconut said that it was the ebb -tide.

 The wintry sun shone brightly over the swamps covered with seagrass sheltering hundreds of tiny fish, gastropods, and mollusks species, attracting egrets and seagulls for a grand feast. We sat on the stone steps with the fishermen to watch the sprawling beach with stretches of wet golden sand while lush coastal vegetation surrounded us in the Shangri la seascape. The wind-kissed casuarina trees trembled in sheer delight.

As we rode a tractor to ride into the sea, we noticed hundreds of tiny patterns on sand formed by red sea crabs. They are rarely visible because the shy red ghost crabs scurry into their holes when you approach nearby. The tractor leads you right into the sea waters, where the waves are gentle. Our tractor pushed through the sunlit sea, gleaming golden brown as the wind played with my shawl and hair. Our young driver focused while the little local boy who accompanied us laughed aloud as I shouted out in thrill.

The tractor rolled on as the churning waves diverged, spraying water all over our feet. The migratory birds soared like dark dots high up in the wintry sky. It lifted our spirit, and we returned to our hotel room with a fulfilled heart and hungry stomach.

 The aromatic rice made our lunch irresistible. The succulent and spiced-up prawns and crabs sharpened our senses. We sipped our coffee as we watched the amazing sunset from our balcony. The evening felt languid as we strolled down the tranquil sea beach. The beachside snacks spread a local flavor that melded with the language spoken.

The pickled puffed rice, in particular, mixed with chickpeas, coconut pieces, sliced onions, grated ginger, chopped chilies, and peanuts drew the few tourists who ventured out in the pandemic time. Yet, we got rid of our masks because of the green air we breathed. People maintained social distancing. After two years of pent-up life in the masked cities, it was a happy relief. We saw temporary teashops far away pitched into the seabed. The locals knew that the tide would return at 10 p.m. So, the young people braved the chill wind and walked almost a km to relax on the seabed. They sat, dipping their barefoot into the wet sand.

Beyond nature’s hide & seek games, Chandipur springs many surprises. The day next, we visited the spot of love tryst where the Budibalam river, flowing nearby, empties itself into the Bay of Bengal at Balaramgadi, only 3 km from the Chandipur beach in the further north.

It was a sunny morning when a lad of barely thirteen rode me on his bike across the beach to a lonelier zone where the river inseparably blends with the seawater. We climbed up some rocks and viewed the meadows afar where the tiny cows were grazing peacefully. There were myriads of birds soaring above us.

We also saw a significant fishing harbor. At any moment of the day, Balaramgadi is full of large-sized fishing trawlers and small fishing boats anchored in the jetty. We found them unloading tons of fish (pomfret, hilsa, jumbo-sized prawns) from deep sea-fishing for auctions. We also met dark-skinned, sinewy turbaned local fishers engaged in varied fishing-related activities.

The river used to be a major maritime passage in the 18^th century. The British used it as a naval route to seek business and establish factories. This historical fact is what a local man told us.

We learned from an older adult that in Balasore there are, still, a few vestiges of Chandipur’s naval past. The region has a center of shipbuilding and ship repairing. Its natives were highly resourceful for their knowledge in the skill of navigation.

Such was the fame of the natives in the nautical circle worldwide during the mid-19^th century that the British christened a shipbuilding farm in Glasgow as “Balasore.” During those days, Balasore was also a textile manufacturing hub. The muslin handkerchiefs made by the weavers got a brand name as “Balasore handkerchiefs”.A British manufacturer established a “Balasore Muslin Handkerchief Factory” in England.

The French also had its tiny colony at Balasore named Loges. Today, in Balasore, there are settlements like Dinamar Dinga, Farasi Dinga, which refer to the European maritime past.

One may describe Chandipur as a nature and history meeting point. It is symbolic of Balasore’s cultural identity.

A color of mystery surrounds this secluded zone.