Sinking back into an easy chair on the beach, sunshade above the head, gazing lazily into the distant sea all day — this could appear to be one of the coolest jobs around. But then, it is not.
On a beach, that too one such as Kovalam where there never seems to be an end to swimmers and surfers, and where many flagrantly ignore warnings, being a lifeguard is not just tough, but risky as well. Add to it the absence of essential lifesaving equipment, including rescue tubes, life jackets, rubber dinghy, speed boat, or even a walkie-talkie, and the picture of the risk the lifeguards face cannot be clearer.
“There have been times when we braved dangerous waves, rescued a swimmer from death and brought him ashore, only to find that there is no vehicle to take him to hospital. Some were lucky, some were not. It would be good if we had an ambulance on call nearby always,” says S. Manoharan, 36, who manned the beaches of Varkala and Shanghumughom before beginning his vigil at Kovalam seven years ago.
It is not just choppy waves or strong undercurrents that Manoharan, or his supervisor Prabhakaran, or their colleagues such as T. Kunjumon have to fight with while rescuing a swimmer. There have been instances when panicky swimmers nearly dragged both of them down.
“When one knows that death is nearby, it is tough to make them act sensibly. If the swimmer clutches or claws at you or wraps his arms around you, you can’t swim and that will be the end of both. In that way, I have seen foreign tourists behaving slightly better. Domestic tourists, mostly, won’t listen to us, and that is the case even before they are in danger. There are guys who just ignore our repeated warnings, sometimes complain about us for being spoilsports, and then get into trouble. And if a life is lost, the blame is on us,” says Manoharan.
By the way, the chair is not an easy chair; it is made of plastic. And the sunshade is not a colourful umbrella, but frayed palm leaves thatched together.