coracle countrycoracle country dandeli in karnataka combines the best of every outdoor experience...

Coracle CountryDDaannddeellii iinn KKaarrnnaattaakkaa ccoommbbiinneess tthhee bbeesstt ooff eevveerryy oouuttddoooorreexxppeerriieennccee —— ccaammppiinngg,, wwhhiittee wwaatteerr rraaffttiinngg,, bbaacckkwwaatteerrccrruuiisseess aanndd mmoosstt iimmppoorrttaannttllyy ssoolliittuuddee.. AANNAANNDDAA BBAANNEERRJJEEEEttrraavveellss ttoo tthhee llaatteesstt eeccoo-ttoouurriissmm hhoottssppoott

Coracle Country

Adventure TRAVEL BUG

DDaannddeellii iinn KKaarrnnaattaakkaa ccoommbbiinneess tthhee bbeesstt ooff eevveerryy oouuttddoooorreexxppeerriieennccee —— ccaammppiinngg,, wwhhiittee wwaatteerr rraaffttiinngg,, bbaacckkwwaatteerrccrruuiisseess aanndd mmoosstt iimmppoorrttaannttllyy ssoolliittuuddee.. AANNAANNDDAA BBAANNEERRJJEEEEttrraavveellss ttoo tthhee llaatteesstt eeccoo-ttoouurriissmm hhoottssppoott

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82 / NAMASKAAR / SEPTEMBER 2008

Adventure

TThe bamboo has flowered after 40 years but this isnot at all good news in this forest. For locals believethat the rare flower is a harbinger of drought andfamine. Traditional knowledge carries some truthand the monsoon in these slopes of the WesternGhats indeed did not keep its date this year. Notbecause the Rain God was angry, turning away todrench other parts of the sub-continent, butbecause he wanted to give the foresters a miracle.To dispel myths, to prove that the rare flower mighthave seemed ominous at first but had indeed got inthe showers, so what if a few weeks too late, sowhat if they had burst out of a cloudy womb whosetime had come. I thank the Rain God for his changeof mood. How else would I have found myselfwrapped by the fresh green countryside, thickeningwith every turn of the road, just-born blooms stun-ning me with their colour, birds chirping in glee andstreams gushing down to bathe the hills of summer?

I am on my way to Dandeli, a small town nestledin the backyard of the Western Ghats in northKarnataka. Not too far away from the bustle of Goa,yet a silent hermitage in Nature where every cityslicker is guaranteed to find solace. Those looking forNat Geo information, know this: The Sahyadri hillsare one of the world’s ten “hottest biodiversityhotspots” and has over 5,000 species of floweringplants, 139 types of mammals, 508 kinds of birdsand 179 amphibians. You would find at least 325globally threatened species here!

DAY 1: My journey begins from Goa’s DabolimAirport, where my host Sanjay picks me up. Afternegotiating the narrow Goan roads, passingthrough small dockyards and lush paddy fields, we

pick up speed on open roads. Our myths say some-thing about pushpvarsha, or the heavenly floralshower by angels. I am regaled with something sim-ilar on earth. At frequent intervals, women and chil-dren stand in groups, hand extended, with gajras ofjasmine buds neatly wrapped in banana leaf andtied with banana fibre. At Rs 5 a package, you getthree to five flower strings. I pick up one from threelittle kids, who were holding it out in front of theirlittle bamboo hut with such open-hearted smilesthat you could not help but give in to their honestpleas. They wish me well.

The jasmine smells good in the moist air. My rideis like a gentle rollercoaster, the road rising and dip-ping like a perfect sound wave plotted on a graphsheet. The rain continues as a leisurely drizzle as Ireach Molem, a border checkpoint between Goaand Karnataka from where the climb begins. It islate afternoon and having skipped lunch hour tomake good on speed, I decide to feast on some deli-cious pao bhaji at one of the dhabas catering to thehundreds of truck drivers doing endless rounds ofthe Goa docks.

We are skirted by the montane forests, full ofbroad-leafed trees, so typical of this moist region. Allof them belong to the laurel family and, therefore,have a high content of ethereal oils. These areimportant sources of spices and perfumes, whichonce attracted the Portuguese to this belt and werethe raison d’ etre of the spice economy. This is theclosest to an equatorial rainforest experience, wherethe foliage is so thick and knotted with each otherthat you can hardly guess what lurks behind theimmediate plant or tree. I feel trapped as our vehicleenters a wall of fog, the croaking frog and the furi-ously buzzing cicada reminding me of the lifearound and guiding me through. Momentarily, youseem to be in a fairytale world of the tall, weatheredand monstrous speaking tree, spreading its giantboughs over and around you, girding you in itsembrace, its leaves the heart of darkness. Don’tknow how long I was on a winding forest road,crawling only as much as the headlight beam, butthe trees decide not to breathe down so heavy andopen up a clearing. From here, I get my first view ofthe blue rolling hills, puffs of clouds hanging inbetween, like dense cigar smoke. In the foothills,neatly cut terraced fields are soaking in the rain asthe farmer takes care of his newly sown paddy.

By nightfall we reach Dandeli and I check intothe sprawling adventure camp on the banks of theriver Kali, so called because its bed is of dark man-ganese. By now, my jasmine has bloomed andserves as an excellent room freshener in my cosy lit-tle tent. Dandeli may not figure higher than a blip in

(Left to right) Jasmine and bamboo flowers. One ofthe many waterfalls in the Western Ghats

GETTING THEREBy Air: Closest airportBelgaum (95 km)Hubli (75km)Goa (125 km)Air India has daily flights toGoa from Delhi, Mumbaiand frequent flights fromChennai.

By Train: Closest railheadAlnavar (32 km)Londa (48 km)Dharwad (57 km)

By Road: Dandeli is wellconnected from Bangalore,Mumbai, Goa, Belgaum,Karwar and Dharwad.

To plan a trip log on towww.dandeli.com

PHOTOS: ANANDA BANERJEE



TRAVEL BUGAdventure

our mainstream consciousness but not far awayfrom the jungle camp is a cosmopolitan town wherepeople from all over the country come to work atthe West Coast Paper Mill. Language is no barrierhere and everybody seems to be familiar with asmattering of Hindi, Marathi, Kannnda, Konkani,Telugu, Tamil and Nepalese. It was an industrial hub in British India and it once had their oldestRailway facility, now virtually non-existent. The city is believed to have been named afterDandelappa, a loyal servant of the Mirashi landlords.Even today, people worship him in a temple.Another legend goes that the city was named afterKing Dandakanayaka, who passed through thebeautiful forests around here and named themDandakaranya.

DAY 2: I wake up to the clatter of Hornbills andJungle Babblers, a welcome break from my shrillalarm clock, and the deep plops of leftover rainwa-ter trickling down the leaves. The sun’s barely able topeep through the clouds and the denizens of theforest are reluctant risers today. Still, I am able to dosome armchair birding, spotting the Malabar Greyand Malabar Pied Hornbill, the common and theblack-rumped Flame Backs, Common Lora, Gold-fronted Chloropsis, Great Tit and Racket-tailedDrongos. Little dots of flaming colour streakingacross branches.

At the breakfast table I meet Pramod, the chiefnaturalist of the camp, and exchange notes on acti-vities that can be done outdoors. You can choosefrom river rafting, rappelling, kayaking, angling, jun-gle safaris and nature walks to name a few. In fact,whitewater rafting, which had thus far been paten-ted by Rishikesh and the Ganga up north, is now abig draw of the Kali river, which has a series of nego-tiable rapids. Dandeli, therefore, is fast emerging asan adventure and eco-tourism destination for wearycorporate traffic out of Bengaluru and Mumbai.

I choose to try out the local dinghy or coracleride on the Kali with Laxman as my guide and pad-dler. Coracles are circular, lightweight boats madeout of bamboo, looking like floating saucers, theirbottoms lined with hides or plastic sheets to makethem waterproof. Although these boats weredesigned for general transport since the beginningof time, nowadays they are a rage among tourists.Not just because of the novelty of the experience butbecause it takes us to our primitive roots. The cora-cle is a part and parcel of every household here;locals use it for small-time fishing and even for vend-ing daily necessities. These boats, built in much thesame way as you would weave a cane basket, takesabout a day to build and are entirely eco-friendly.

I slip into the coracle and let it bob along the tur-bulent waters of the rain-fed Kali, now an opaquechocolate brown, having eroded the hills high


The Ramanguli riversideresort, a baby crocodile onthe Kali river, Little BlueKingfisher and Little Heron



TRAVEL BUGAdventure

above. I try steering my course but in vain; I plungemy oar to the left, the coracle turns 360 degrees.Then attempt to steady it from the right but theeddies push me back towards the bank. After spin-ning around a while, I realise it’s unwise to tame theKali and entrust my fate to Laxman. He paddles withexpertise and keeps the coracle near the banks,avoiding the strong currents which could dange-rously set us off course and leave us as powerless asa twig in the flood. It’s when we have steadied ourride that Laxman tells me that the river has quite afew crocodiles. However, they don’t attack you solong as there are enough prey around for them tofeast on and enough water and bank for them tolaze around. Still, the thought of them swirlingaround you can be a bit unnerving, much like test-ing your fear factor. A pair of Brahminy Kites hoversabove and keeps us company. Laxman points to anest made by Asian Weaver Ants in one of the trees.Weaver Ants are tree dwellers and are known fortheir unique nest-building behaviour where workerants bind leaves together with larval silk. Laxmanexplains the intricacies of nest building, a fascinatingtale of craftsmanship and skill management. Each

nest is headed by the queen who lays the eggs. Acolony may have up to half a million workers. Themajor workers are approximately eight to ten mil-limetres in length and the minors approximately halfthe length of the majors. There is smart division oflabour: The major workers forage, defend, maintainand expand the colony whereas minor workers tendto stay within the nests where they care for thebrood and trap scale insects for food. This explainswhy farmers want them around their fields to get ridof pests.

These workers bring the leaves together withtheir mandibles and then hold and manipulate thelarvae in such a way that causes them to excrete silk.The workers then maneuver between the leaves in ahighly coordinated fashion to bind them together.The self-organising properties and emergent beha-viour of ants have inspired new approaches in scien-tific fields such as robotics, engineering and comput-er science. Laxman also introduces me to anotherspecies, the Jordon’s Jumping Ant. Paddling up anddown the Kali, I am amazed by my oarsman’sacquired skills of a keen naturalist. May be, he’staken lessons from the multi-tasking ants.


John Pollard, who started rafting here, is seen negotiating a rapid on the Kali with his team


herded together. Since they were strong fighters,some Siddis even escaped to set up their indepen-dent territories. Today, they may be a handful,reduced to living a pastoral life but they are fiercelyprotective about their identity. They shun the main-stream, get annoyed and retreat when I try to pho-tograph them. Owing their origins to exploitation,it’s understandable why they canbe resentful. But when you heartheir distant drumbeats andchants, you could hardly believethat you are out of Africa. At ournext stop, a Gouda settlement, Iam amazed by unique thatchhouses without doors. Thesetribals live with goats and sheepunder one roof and sell their milkfor a livelihood.

We move further up to thebanks of the Bison river, on wayto the gigantic Supa Dam on theKalindi river, which suppliespower to the state of Karnataka.

Dams may seem like huge infrastructure feats butpost monsoon and in September, the reservoirs arefull to the brim and make for excellent lakesideretreats. There are the crumbly Syntheri Rocks whichgather around the 300-ft granite monolith, remnantof a pre-historic volcanic eruption. It glistens as thewater rushes into a deep ravine and sprays up a

super white foam. Life still findsrefuge amid the turbulence ofraging torrents and the tumblingstones. Pigeons nest in the nooksand crannies while rock bees haveperched their hives in such well-protected corners that they areunaffected by the elements ofnature.

The might of the Kalindi over-whelms me. It gurgles and swirls,in terrible turmoil, holding morethan it can keep. It tears downeverything in its swathe, tossingand turning anything in its course.Everything else stills around it. o


We spot a large number of Kingfishers — white-throated, stork-billed and the little blue ones — allcocking their proud head at others. Then there’s thedark knight, the Grey-headed Fishing eagle, stand-ing atop a dead tree trunk in his brown coat, hishunter eyes intent on the water, his plume still as stillcan be, his claws taut and ready to swoop down themoment unsuspecting fish surface for a randomfeed. We circumvent a baby crocodile lying on alarge rock in the middle of the river, desperatelywishing the sun would come out. The seasonedadults know better, they have already gone under.Laxman tells me that the baby can grow up to 12 ftlong!

Just in case the croc changes his food prefer-ence, I ask Laxman to head back. After lunch, I headout again, this time with Pramod, to the DandeliWildlife Sanctuary, now newly christened as Dandeli– Anshi Tiger Reserve. On the way, I stop by to meetpeople from the Medar community who have madea virtue of living close to bamboo groves. Apart frommaking coracles, they earn their living out of house-hold products like beach and roof mats as well asbaskets.

I get a short demonstration from Yasuraj Medaron the craft and get a tiny bamboo basket to carryhome as memento. There is no wastage as all left-over materials are used by women to make the baseof incense sticks. A day spent with these communi-ties is a lesson in sustainable practices.

No wonder then that the forest is teeming richwith wildlife. Though this is classic tiger country, it isalso the home of King Cobra, elephants and thefamed Black Panther. Pramod tells me that this isone of the best places to catch a glimpse of this elu-sive cat and he has been lucky more than once. NotI though, despite a good two hours of patient andsilent behaviour, despite keeping my eyes peeled onevery thicket, despite looking for tracks on the wetforest floor. But the almost Amazonian forest refu-ses to be your ally; it smothers your vision andsquelches every mark of the big cat. The rain is a will-ing accomplice, washing any remnants of prey.However, I get a distinct feeling of being observed.In this dark, leafy wilderness, where you can’t trustan innocent tendril, he could be anywhere, our BlackPanther. Is he lurking in the shadows of the under-growth, stalking us? Is he atop the branches, hiddenin the canopy, waiting to pounce on us? Has he dis-solved in the distant darkness?

Anyway, he proves a point. In the jungle, he callsthe shots and won’t show up at your whim. Not fortrophy value. And there were two of us, not ideal fora kill. I settle for other sights, like the unending greenexpanse from the Shiroli peak, the melodiouswhistling of the Malabar Whistling Thrush and thestartling designs on the Blue Mormon.

Day 3: My co-host Ramnath and Sanjay take mealong the long road to Ramanguli via Yellapur toexperience the Kannada backwaters. You’ve proba-bly seen and heard about the Kerala backwaters butI recommend you try a ride on one of the serpentinerivers, surrounded by cashew plantations, skirtingpast pretty gardens and hamlets, curling around lit-tle blue hills. It’s an awesome experience, floatingalongside logs that have drifted loose from thebanks.

We reach the camp on the scenic banks of theriver Gangavali, sitting right in the middle of nutcountry. Around us grow betel, areca and cashewnuts that are as much a part of the local cuisine asthey are part of the welcome platter. Camp mana-ger Udayakumar starts a bonfire by the river to helpus dry off along with generous swigs of local wine.

Day 4: We set out on a spirited journey to GaneshGudi for our encounter with the unique tribes of theregion. Along the way, we meet a few Siddis sellingwild mushrooms. These are people of Africandescent, whose ancestors arrived in India betweenthe 11th and 19th centuries as slave labour. Knownto be fiercely loyal, they were in the service of manyprincely states in western India as mercenaries. But somehow they never quite blended locally and

TRAVEL BUG


Adventure

A Siddi mushroom seller

A view of the Western Ghats and (below) a display of the Syntheri Rocks at Ganesh Gudi


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