Suggest Kovalam for a day’s outing and you get instant nods from friends and family. It’s an hour’s drive down ECR, but Romaine of Samarpan does it in 40 minutes. This village boasts of several attractions. It also has history: known as Covelong and described as “charming”, it was a port built by Saadat Ali, Nawab of Carnatic. It played host to French General La Bourdonnais when he landed his troops in 1746, and watched the structures destroyed by Clive in 1752. The Dutch built a fort here. The beautiful beach on the Chennai-Mahabalipuram route and the bounty of the sea stayed on.
In the '70s and '80s, crabs and prawns were exported, large mullets sold for Rs.10 a fish. If mangroves drew in the fish to breed, swaying palms brought in holidayers who swam, surfed (now there’s a surfing school), fished, attempted mid-sea diving or just chilled out in the surrounding tranquillity.
Resorts appeared, tourists flocked the hamlet, a mental-health outreach programme got started, a drug de-addiction centre came up.
But what made (and makes) Kovalam unique was its way of life — people worshipping at its dargah, temple and ancient church live and work like one group.
But as I stand on the stone-laden track on the shore-side of Masudhi Theru, I am not sure how long this village will live. It’s high tide, but why is the sea so angry? Large, noisy waves lash at the shore relentlessly and the devastation is visible.
The 1-km-long beach has been gobbled up, sandbags mounted behind sticks are gone, the road lies beneath the ferocious sea. The lovely Iqbal Beach House has lost two rooms and a compound wall. Giant excavators are desperately dumping rocks in what looks like a feeble attempt to contain a mammoth force. It is a terrifying sight.
As Vincent, vice-president, panchayat, walks me down the stone-filled mess, residents of the Theru — Shabbir Ahmed, Abdul Rahman, Zarine Bi, Shamsuddin and Ismail Bhai raise just one question — “Where do we go?”
S. Janakiraman, president, Kovalam Panchayat, is doing what he can, desperately. “Erosion has been going on for a long time,” he says. “Fifteen years ago, in one night, 150 coconut trees were washed away, Bajana Koil/Pudhu Masudhi streets have been the worst affected. Two years ago, the shore road and the 300-metre beach disappeared. Water came in very quickly, took us by surprise. The Collector ordered sandbags; they were swallowed by the tides.”
Recently, the sea turned savage, he says. About 20 days ago, all the compound walls on the two streets fell. “Something had to be done urgently; the panchayat has limited funds and powers. We appealed to the District Collector; he allowed us to proceed with the stone-dumping. We did it with local help, but even that is an insufficient safeguard. We have submitted photographs. Authorities should either fund us or do the prevention work themselves. The cove is a natural bend, we have to dump more stones, reduce its depth, build protective walls in tiers – the kind you see in ports. The community-based Disaster-Risk Management has funds – can’t they help?” he asks.
At 10 feet of erosion every day, it is a frightening prospect, given that it is linked to Muttukadu Estuary, Kovalam Bay and Buckingham Canal. Immediately, 700 families and 2,000 people are staring at homelessness.
“It's an attack for which we have no answer,” he adds.
“The answer is mangroves,” says Romaine of Samarpan Foundation.
“This 2,200-metre stretch near ECR had a profusion of mangroves,” she adds.
They were felled, the resorts came up, leading to the devastation of today. She has a working plan: identify the worst-affected areas, create a buffer-wall (with steel-furnace-filled bags) extending at least 20 feet into the sea from the low-tide mark, fill the area between the wall and the beach with boulders and clay-soil. Plant mangroves in the enclosed area.
“This four-stage plan will stave off sea erosion.”
This was tried in Sundarbans, and the mangroves are back.
Other than permissions, sponsorship and volunteers, Romaine is also looking for used cement bags, furnace-residue, boulders and excavators.
I looked up some recent comments about Kovalam on TripAdvisor and these are some of them: the fishing community makes it a safe place; the sea is harmless due to its shape; rocks near the south of the beach create very decent waves for surfers; unlike Marina beach, it is calm; its beauty natural, it deserves a four-star rating; the beach is in good condition, properly maintained; buy some awesome fish early in the morning....
This popular beach of our coast is disappearing. Shouldn’t we care?
