The waters of Alappuzha’s Punnamada Lake are cleaved apart by one magnificent snake boat after another, as crews of over a 100 each row for their lives. Indulekha Aravind on the agony and ecstasy of the 60th edition of the Nehru Trophy, the most prestigious snake boat race of them all
If winter comes, can spring be far behind?” P B Shelley’s immortal words from his “Ode to the West Wind” would have been invoked on countless occasions before this. To inspire troops on the eve of a particularly tough skirmish perhaps, or to pep up the members of a party that’s been occupying the opposition benches, before campaigning kicks off. Today, it’s part of an impromptu speech by Pramod, secretary of United Boat Club, Kainakary. The line appears incongruous at first for Pramod is in mundu and shirt, the rest of his speech is in rapid-fire Malayalam and the 100-odd men who have gathered under the coconut trees look as if they might find a rousing vanchipaattu (traditionally sung during Kerala’s boat races) more appealing than the words of the Romantic poet. But then again, these men too will go into battle four days later, when the chundan vallam, or snake boat, they row will compete against 15 others for the Nehru Trophy, the prize for the eponymous and fiercely competitive boat race held every second Saturday of August in Alappuzha’s Punnamada Lake. This year marks the 60th edition of the race, 60 years since the country’s first prime minister was so thrilled by the exhibition race of snake boats organised for him that he threw protocol to the winds and jumped into the boat that had surged ahead. On returning to Delhi, Jawaharlal Nehru sent a silver miniature of a chundan vallam, the replica of which is given to the winners of the race named after him posthumously.
“I saw Nehru that day with these very eyes,” recalls a wizened Antony Thomas Valiyaveettil, a United Boat Club veteran. “Nine snake boats went to receive him, accompanied by 40 motor boats. We were just boys and United Boat Club had not yet been formed...” The club is still one of the oldest in the fray, formed two years after Nehru’s visit. “We have won the race 11 times, including two hat-tricks,” Valiyaveettil says proudly. Their last victory, though, was in 2003; so the pep-talk is very much in order.
Almost all the clubs taking part in the race are concentrated in the backwater belt of Alappuzha, Kottayam and Kollam. The club members are mostly locals, from regions where rowing across canals and rivers was once a way of life. Snake boats, so named in English because of its resemblance to a snake with a raised hood (the Malayalam chundan vallam translates into beaked boat), were traditionally used as battleships. The boat’s narrow body, designed for speed, made it perfect for racing. Each snake boat needs a crew of between 80 and 95 to row, around 10 to keep time (the rowing has to be perfectly synchronised as even a single mistimed move can sink the boat) and four to five men to steer. This is also why these races are unique, since no other sport requires teams of over a 100. Something that sounds as if it calls for considerable physical exertion would need athletes with toned bodies, one would think, but the United Boat Club members who have gathered seem to be of varying shapes and sizes, from wiry lads to pot-bellied men. Most oarsmen are below 25 years, says Pramod, while more experienced hands steer and keep time.
The men have just finished a lunch organised by their fellow villagers of Kainakary — in the run-up to the race, different wards in a village come forward to sponsor lunch for their boys (and men) who mostly work as farm-hands or fishermen on other days. Practice begins 20 days before the race, and the team rows for three hours a day, with the rest of the time spent exercising and doing yoga. After the speeches, a prayer and warm-up exercises, the team readies to head out to their boat, the Muttel Kainakary, anchored close by.
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‘Their boat’ here is merely a phrase, because UBC Kainakary, like all the other teams, has rented the chundan vallam for the race. There was a time when the snake boats used to be owned by community organisations of each region known as karayogams and taking part in the race would be an effort of the entire village but that is no longer the case, say boat race enthusiasts. “Even 10 to 15 years ago, no chundan vallam was owned by individuals,” says Vinu Kumar, managing director of event management firm Vismaya, whose family owns the snake boat Parthasarathy. Kumar’s father bought the Parthasarathy 12 years ago when the Nedumudi Karayogam realised it could no longer afford its maintenance. A snake boat, typically 110 feet long, and made entirely of wood, costs around Rs 30 lakh to build, and needs to be refurbished every five years for Rs 5-Rs 6 lakh. “The income from renting it would be just Rs 2-Rs 3 lakh a year. It’s a dead investment,” says Kumar. Like owning an elephant? “No, elephant owners get a lakh for each festival the elephant attends. Owning a chundan vallam is more a matter of prestige than anything else.” Because of the expenses, there are only 22 snake boats in the state, of which 16 will compete for the Nehru Trophy while four will be part of an exhibition race. Each snake boat comes with an identity and history of its own. The Parthasarathy, for example, had the number 1 pinned to it by then British Resident John Munro, which it still carries.
Participating in the race is an expensive proposition for clubs as well, with at least a lakh being spent on each day of practice. Most of this goes to the rowers, who are paid Rs 400-Rs 500 a day as each day spent practising would mean the loss of a day’s wages, and their food and other expenses, says Kumar. The clubs taking part in the race receive a grant from the Nehru Trophy Boat Race Society, which is the coordinating body for the event, and the remaining funds are raised through sponsorships and donations. The bulk of this year’s sponsorship amount of Rs 4 crore will be spent on the prize money and the grants to clubs and boats, says A Gopakumar, Alappuzha’s revenue divisional officer and secretary of the Nehru Trophy Boat Race Society. This being the diamond jubilee, the race is a three-day event for the first time, with a dragon boat race on the first day, the heats of smaller boats on the second, and the heats and finals of the snake boat races and the finals of the smaller boats on the last day.
“By having just the chundan vallam races and the finals of the smaller boats on the last day, we will be able to finish the race on time, making it more spectator-friendly,” says Gopakumar. Another first will be the participation of women in the snake boat race. Traditionally (and chauvinistically), women are not allowed to even enter a chundan vallam, and had to content themselves with taking part in a separate race of smaller boats called thekkanodi. But this year, a team of women from Kumarakom will be rowing the Nadubhagom chundan vallam, the boat Nehru leapt into, no less. They will be taking part only in the exhibition race, but it is still a welcome start.
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After two days of intermittent rain and a grey dawn, the sun condescends to grace the final day of the 60th Nehru Trophy Boat Race with its presence around noon. Since morning, the town has been abuzz with busloads, carloads and boatloads of those who have come for the iconic race. The locals themselves appear to be divided between those who have seen the race once and now prefer to stay indoors and avoid the madness and ardent supporters of clubs who never miss a race. Pavilions to seat 9,000 have been set up while the rest of the expected crowd of 50,000 would line up in whatever space they can find on either shore of the 1,210-metre race track. Those in the pavilions are expected to be seated by noon due to reasons of security and a long wait ensues. Even the sun appears to tire, giving way to a burst of rain around two o’clock. Boats, small and big, continue to speed down the lake conducting last-minute trials, merrily ignoring announcers’ pleas to stay off the tracks. The lamp is finally lit at 3 and the chief guest, Lok Sabha Speaker Meira Kumar, waxes eloquent about the state’s natural beauty and the boat race. The name of the district proves to be too much of a tongue-twister, however: she ends up calling it Alapuzza. With the speeches, the unveiling of Nehru’s statue and a drill by the 64 participating boats out of the way, the much-awaited heats of the chundan vallams begin. There are four heats with four boats competing in each — tracks are assigned according to lots picked earlier. Watching the long, black boats approach the finishing line with men rowing in tandem furiously is an exhilarating sight but before you can take it all in, the boats have crossed the finishing line! The long gaps between each race are rather tiresome but spectators are diverted by sights like a group of men being hauled up by the police for throwing clumps of water hyacinth at passing tourist boats. The heats are finally over by 4:30 and the four competing for first place are Jesus Boat Club, Kollam, rowing the Anari, Freedom Boat Club, Kainakary, rowing the Sree Ganeshan, Kumarakom Boat Club, Kumarakom, rowing the Cheruthana and United Boat Club, Kainakary, rowing the Muttel Kainakary. Between the heats and the finals of the chundan vallams are the races of the smaller boats like the veppu vallam (which used to take food for the warrior chundans), thekkanodi and iruttukuthy but though picturesque, they do not evoke the same excitement. Disappointingly, the Nadubhagam chundan vallam rowed by the all-women team comes last in the exhibition race.
It is nearly seven before the finals begin — so much for the organisers’ hope of finishing the race early! By then, the spectators’ excitement has reached fever pitch. People are now as close to the edges of the bank as they dare to be, craning their necks, while a few are actually in the water. The twilight has nearly deepened into night when the four boats come into sight, the men rowing as if their lives depended on it. The crowds roar and whistle as the Sree Ganeshan crosses the finishing line in under five minutes, with Kollam’s Jesus Boat Club close behind. This year too the trophy has eluded Kainakary’s United Boat Club, which has to be content with third place.
The announcer is at it again, this time pleading with the crowd not to leave till the prize distribution is over but Alappuzha is too busy celebrating its beloved race to pay any attention.