Tsunami News

MARCH 2005     

Major new earthquake (aftershock) 8.7 on Richter scale, off southwest Sumatra

Reported by US GEOLOGICAL SURVEY
www.usgs.gov

28 March 2005

28 March 2005 22:09:36, local Sumatra time (UTC)

Magnitude 8.2 (other estimates: 8.5 and 8.9)
Depth 30 km (18.6 miles)
Location Uncertainty horizontal +/- 6.1 km (3.8 miles)

Parameters: Nst=135, Nph=135, Dmin=537.4 km, Rmss=0.79 sec, Gp= 43°
M-type=moment magnitude (Mw), Version=7

Epicenter off southwestern coast of Sumatra, Indonesia 2.074°N, 97.013°E, off the west coast of Sumatra between the islands of Simeulue and Nias.
205 km (125 miles) WNW of Sibolga, Sumatra, Indonesia
245 km (150 miles) SW of Medan, Sumatra, Indonesia
535 km (330 miles) WSW of KUALA LUMPUR, Malaysia
1410 km (880 miles) NW of JAKARTA, Java, Indonesia

At least 290 people killed, 100 injured and 300 houses destroyed on Nias island by the earthquake and fears 500 to 2,000 dead on Nias have been voiced. There are also likely to be some hundreds of dead on neighbouring Simeulue island (already hit hard be the first tsunami in December 2004) and in the Batu islands, with extensive damage to housing and infrastructure.

Tremors were felt in Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore and as far north as Bangkok, Thailand.

No major tsunami has been triggered by this quake but what waves were generated seem to have been focused (as predicted by computer modelling) towards the south and southwest. This was confirmed by Jeffrey Novak's report on the Cocos islands (see below).

See also Asia primed for next big quake (below under date 19th March 2005)

Reported by JEFFREY L. NOVAK
Vice President Operations and Programs,
World Disaster Alliance
jnovak@disasteralliance.org

No tsunami has been reported 4 hours after the earthquake. However, a small tsunami has been reported on the Cocos islands (belonging to Australia and due south of the epicenter) with no casualties.

Received from KALPAVRIKSH
Mr. Pankaj Sekhsaria
Apt. 5, Sri Dutta Krupa
908 Deccan Gymkhana,
Pune 411004
Tel: 020 - 25654239 / 25675450
Fax: 25654239
E-mail: pankaj@leadindia.org

A major quake in the Indian Ocean has hit the coast of the Indonesian tsunami-hit island of Sumatra, triggering alerts across the region. It struck just before midnight local time, with an estimated magnitude of 8.2 (later upgraded to 8.7), and caused widespread panic.

The epicentre was located at about 200 km (125 miles) off the mainland. US monitors warned of a "widely destructive tsunami" and the quake was felt as far away as Malaysia. "Authorities in those regions should be aware of this possibility and take immediate action," the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center said in a statement on its website.

The quake comes three months after a major earthquake and subsequent tsunami in the Indian Ocean on 26 Decr caused major damage and killed tens of thousands of people in the region. Russ Evans, a seismologist from the British Geological Survey, told the BBC that Monday's tremor quake was almost certainly an after-shock of the earlier quake, which had a magnitude of 9. A new tsunami was certainly possible, he said, but on a smaller scale.

'I heard my neighbours screaming'

The quake struck between the Sumatran cities of Padang and Medan at around 2315 local time (1615 GMT) and lasted up to three minutes, said Ramlan of Indonesia's Meteorological and Geophysics Office.

Power blackouts and major panic ensued, local officials told AFP news agency.

Residents of Banda Aceh, which was ruined on 26 December, were reported to be fleeing from their homes as reports of the earthquake spread.

The quake was felt across the region with people in the Malaysian capital, Kuala Lumpur, some 500km away, evacuating high-rise buildings and running out into the streets.

"I was getting ready for bed, and suddenly, the room started shaking," said Kuala Lumpur resident Jessie Chong.

"I thought I was hallucinating at first, but then I heard my neighbours screaming and running out."

Thailand, which was also hit by the 26 December disaster, has issued a tsunami alert and there are reports the quake was also felt in India.

Editor's note 1: 28th March 2005, 21:00 hours Swiss time: the telephone rang at the Andaman Association in Liestal, Switzerland, and interrupted your editor watching in horrified fascination ("not again!") the breaking news on CNN of yet another earthquake off Sumatra. On the line was Dr. Simron Jit Singh calling from Lucknow, India, requesting your editor to do precisely what he was already doing, i.e. watching news channels - AND to relay any news items of relevance to the central Nicobar islands immediately by telephone to Prince Rashid there. Apparently, the islanders had heard of and felt the earthquake shortly after 2100 hours their time but then were then left to fend for themselves. No news, advice or instructions reached them from the Indian authorities headquartered on northern Car Nicobar. Happily, the news your editor could pass to the Nicobaris was positive: the earthquake was smaller and further away than the quake of 26th December 2004 had been and that, after 3 hours of monitoring, no significant tsunami had been reported. It was also reported on CNN that whatever tsunami there might be would be directed mostly southward, i.e. away from the Nicobars. Relaying this news gave much pleasure to your editor and led to an audible sigh of relief in the islands. Editor's note 2: : As the following report by Sharbendu De indicates, Car Nicobar was alarmed by the administration, but the central Nicobars, as usual, were left to their own devices. In other words: no change since 26th December 2004.

Reported by SHARBENDU DE
sharbendude@yahoo.com

29th March 2005

The first message of Tsunami alert in the Nicobar islands came in at about 10.03 pm. The local administration immediately took measures by intimating ITBP and CISF to set in motion. The Assistant Commissioner sent wireless message to alarm MV John Richardson s docked at Mus jetty .

I personally (Sharbendu De) alarmed two relief camps here. The people in Kakana were engrossed into their prayer sessions after hearing of the red alert. As of now there hasn't been any aftershocks here, but the public has been warned, forces posted near the sea to keep a watch if the sea is rising.

Some fuel and food stocks are being secured, just in case. Quite a lot of people have rushed out into the streets and many have taken refuge in BJR Hospital. They're going to spend the night here.

Most of the camps in new locations are in higher elevation areas. Only Mus, Sawai and Teetop are a matter of concern considering their lower plain existence and close proximity to the sea (Mus). 

Backpacker Army rebuild's Thailand's 'Beach'

by ED CROPLEY
Passed to us by Nirmal Ghosh, tigerfire@yahoo.com

24 March 2005

Note by Nirmal Ghosh: these are the tourists denigrated as low-budget ''scum'' by Indian travel writers Hugh and Colleen Gantzer last year (in the context of the Andamans) and as low value by tourism strategists and officials.

Koh Phi Phi, Thailand: to the strains of Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley, a backpacker army of anybody from Australian computer boffins to Irish plasterers is rebuilding the tsunami-devastated Thai paradise of Koh Phi Phi.

Rumors swirl around the tiny island, made famous by cult Leonardo di Caprio movie 'The Beach', that government and big business are conspiring to annex the former tourist playground and turn it into a $1,000-a-night luxury resort.

The tales of crony capitalists ganging up on the 'little man' only fuel the outrage and fervor of the sandal-wearing volunteers, who swarm over the rubble like ants, tearing down buildings, carting rubble, painting walls and sweeping floors.

From the humble beginnings of a few long-term foreign residents and Thais returning to rebuild their lives, 'Hi Phi Phi' now has several hundred volunteers officially registered on its books.

As word passes down the backpacker trail by word of mouth and across the world via the Internet cafes that have already reopened only three months after the killer wave hit the coast on Dec. 26, the numbers are swelling by the day.

"At the beginning it was pretty much just digging rubble and carting rubbish," said Anglo-Dutch lawyer Richard Gerristen, 24, who is in charge of registering new arrivals to what is essentially a hippie colony with a work ethic.

"But now it's getting more organized, and we really need some people with construction experience -- electricians, plasterers, carpenters, you name it," he said.

Most volunteers only came for a day to survey the damage on Phi Phi, where as many as 1,000 people might have died, but saw they could help and ended up grabbing a shovel.

"We came here just to check it out and see if we could help a bit, and we've now been here seven weeks," said Jay Nicholson, 28, a software expert from Melbourne, as he plastered the wall of the Oasis Bar which is due to reopen any day now.

"And I'm trying to convince my wife to make it longer."

Tsunami Chic

Every night, the volunteers meet on the beach to plan the next day's work -- whether it be tearing down a hut, plastering a bar or moving the tool shed to bigger premises to accommodate the grinding irons, spades and trowels being sent from overseas.

'Tsunami chic' is also setting in, with many helpers sporting "Phi Phi - I survived" tee-shirts, along with the seemingly obligatory goatees, tattoos, earrings and necklaces.

Thai residents of Phi Phi, who complain they are getting little or no help from the government, are also coming back in greater numbers as the hippie influx kick-starts the economy.

"We have only a few customers at the moment, but it is getting better every day," said Kodiroh Tiranont, who has restocked her clothing shop with bikinis and swimming trunks.

In a sure sign things are returning to normal, pirate DVDs are back on sale, and each day fishing boats arrive brimming with all the trappings of a bustling holiday island: beach pillows, beer glasses, postcard racks -- and cement mixers.

"You've just got to have the proper kit," said John Magee, a bearded 59-year-old Irish builder who turned up five weeks ago with a cement mixer he bought on the mainland.

"You should have seen their faces when we asked for some help getting this off the boat. Still, in this heat, you can't go mixing cement by hand -- it drains the spirit."

Andamans ready for tourism

by an unknown correspondent

passed to us by SUDARSHAN RORDRIGUEZ
Conservation Management Analyst
Flat 2B, Adithya Apartments
38 Balakrishna Road
Valmiki Nagar,Thiruvanmiyur
Chennai-600 041
Tamilnadu, India
Phone:+91 44 5201 9470
Mobile: +91 9840680127
Fax: +91 44 52019468
Email: sudarshanr@yahoo.com

23 March 2005

Despite the extensive damage caused by the tsunami, the Andaman and Nicobar Islands are now ready to welcome tourists from around the world, according to the Lt. Governor, Ram Kapse.

Addressing a media conference, Mr. Kapse mooted a tourism package to include Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Pondicherry and West Bengal. Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and the islands could be one package and Tamil Nadu, Kerala and the islands another. There was also the possibility of developing tourist traffic between West Bengal and the islands.

Lower airfares and leave travel concessions would help boost tourism.

Chartered flights

Chartered flights had started with the arrival of one bringing American and South African tourists on March 10. A German cruise liner would be arriving in Port Blair on March 31 from Phuket bringing 500 tourists. MV Europa was also planning to arrive in May. Further, India's first cruise liner, connecting Port Blair to Vishakapatnam and Chennai, is expected to start shortly. The tourist chartered flight linking Bangkok and Port Blair would be resumed by December.

The administration was planning to organise cultural programmes and stage performances in late March and April. Although currently only 4.2 per cent of the tourists to the islands were foreigners, efforts were on to attract more international tourists, he said.

Insisting that the islands were now "fully normal", he said all the 38,778 people in 149 camps were likely to move to their temporary houses by April 15, well before the monsoon sets in. Safe sites had been identified for the resettlement. The school examinations were held, and no student had been left out, he said.

"Slight tremors normal"

Mr. Kapse said it was normal for slight tremors to continue for some time after a major earthquake. "Nobody should be afraid because of that," he said. Private partnership in tourism projects was also being encouraged, he added.

Although the tsunami had caused serious damage, efforts were on to build a "new Andaman and Nicobar Islands" that was better than the islands of the pre-tsunami period, he said. The villages would be rebuilt in a planned manner. "Even from the sky you will see the difference," he said.

Asia primed for next big quake

by KATHARINE DAVIS, New Scientist

19 March 2005

Indonesia and Germany signed an agreement this week to install a tsunami early warning system in the Indian Ocean. Though some of the pieces will be in place by October, it could turn out to be a race against time. The quake that caused last year's devastating tsunami has increased the stress on other faults nearby, according to a study published this week. This has left the region primed for one or two major earthquakes, and possibly another tsunami.

The earthquake on 26 December occurred when the dense India tectonic plate slipped under the Burma plate. This deformed the seabed leading to the tsunami that claimed hundreds of thousands of lives.

When an earthquake occurs in such a subduction zone, where one plate slips under another, it is often followed by another, in addition to the aftershocks. For example, on the Nankai subduction zone to the south-east of Japan, five of the last seven major quakes were followed within five years by major earthquakes along an adjoining segment of the fault, and three of those occurred within a year.

"Big earthquakes make other big earthquakes more likely," says John McCloskey of the University of Ulster, UK, who led a study that measured the changes in stress in the plate boundaries in the Indian Ocean and Sumatra (Nature, vol 434, p 291). This is because a big earthquake often increases stress in other sections of the same fault or those nearby.

McCloskey, working with Suleyman Nalbant and Sandy Steacy, found a dramatic increase in stress in the Sumatra fault, which cuts through the island of Sumatra and runs east of the subduction zone that ruptured last year. The Sumatra fault is a "strike-slip" fault in which two plates slide against each other horizontally.

1 The India-Burma subduction zone. It was this zone that ruptured on 26 Dec 2004 in an earthquake of 9 or more on the Richter scale , causing the tsunami. 2 The Sunda trench carries increasing stress since 26 Dec 2004 and now poses the threat of rupturing next, causing another tsunami 3 The northern section of the Sumatra fault also carries increasing stress and poses an earthquake and possibly volcanic risk   See also Toba Volcano on this web-site

Before the India-Burma subduction fault gave way, it was pushing on the Sumatra fault, "clamping it shut" says geophysicist Rob McCaffrey of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, New York. "When it's clamped it's hard to make it slide. Now there's an increased probability of it slipping."

McCloskey's team found that in places the stress along the Sumatra fault had increased by 9 bars. In 1999, the magnitude 7.4 Izmir earthquake in Turkey increased stress in a nearby plate boundary by just 2 bars, and triggered an earthquake of magnitude 7.1 three months later. McCloskey warns that a magnitude 7.5 earthquake could occur along the Sumatra fault.

While it would not cause a tsunami because the fault line is not beneath the ocean, a magnitude 7.5 earthquake under Sumatra would be devastating. "This one will be closer to buildings, maybe in Medan," says geologist Roger Bilham of the University of Colorado at Boulder.

The Sumatra fault is not the only threat. A second quake along the Sunda trench, a continuation of the India-Burma subduction zone, could lead to another tsunami. An earthquake in this area was considered overdue even before the quake farther north on the same fault which caused last year's tsunami.

"This south-east part of the subduction zone has been accumulating stress since 1833 and 1861, and the recent earthquake will have added more," says Phil Cummins of Geoscience Australia.

"A quake along the Sunda trench could lead to another tsunami. An earthquake was overdue here even before 26 December"

An earthquake in the Sunda trench could potentially reach magnitude 8.5, McCloskey warns, and could trigger another tsunami. Because it would start further south than the one last year, it would probably not strike Thailand, but Sri Lanka and the west coast of Africa could be hit again, as would Sumatra. Seismologist Seth Stein of Northwestern University at Evanston, Illinois, agrees: "If the next bit south broke it could create a comparable tsunami."

McCloskey's calculations show the stress along the Sunda trench to be about 5 bars. However, there is some uncertainty because of how the Earth's lower crust is reacting to the sudden movement of the upper crust on 26 December. It is therefore possible that that the movement of the lower crust could ease the stress in the Sunda trench, making an earthquake less rather than more likely, McCloskey says.

Peter Malin of Duke University in Durham, North Carolina, agrees. "We have huge holes in our data and knowledge of fault zones," he says. And it's equally difficult to say when an earthquake would occur. "We are very bad at predicting the timing of when the pressure will be released," says Bilham. "It could be months, it could be years."

But the threat of another tsunami, however speculative, has prompted McCloskey to call for a tsunami warning system in the Indian Ocean. "It's the closest we've come to a political statement," he says. "We're asking for a political response to a scientific paper." The Indonesian-German venture could be the answer.

Plea for local community radio

9 Mar 2005

"There was a one-and-a-half hours' time gap between the quake in Sumatra and the tidal waves hitting the Indian coast," said the Minister of State for Home Affairs, Shriprakash Jaiswal, "One-and-a-half hours is sufficient time.

If, during this time, the coastal areas had been informed of the presence of tidal waves in the sea, many lives could have been saved."

"Given our scientific and communication facilities, there was a clear span of about 120 to 150 minutes to send an alert message through radio, TV and loudspeakers to vulnerable communities," writes seismologist Arun Bapat in the Indian Express (28 Dec). "Had this been done, the death toll would have been lower."

The role of community radio in disaster warning, disaster preparedness, and rescue and relief operations is well documented. Unfortunately, there is not a single radio station in the entire Nicobar group, from Car Nicobar to Grand Nicobar. For the first 48 hours of the disaster, there was no communication to or from these islands. For all we know, the smaller islands like Katchal, Nancowrie, Teresa, Bompoka and Little Andaman may well have been engulfed and many lives lost.

When natural disasters strike, telephone and TV systems are the first to break down. The islanders' main link with the outside world is All India Radio's short wave service from Port Blair, hundreds of miles away. At the best of times, very little information comes out of these remote island communities. In the three years that I worked at AIR Port Blair, we toured the Nicobar Islands only once, for recording programmes.

The MS Swaminathan Foundation in Pondicherry downloads information on wave height and meteorological conditions from a US Navy website and delivers the information to coastal communities through notice boards and loud-speakers.

MSSRF would prefer to use a community radio station to transmit this valuable information, but they are not allowed to do so by law. What if the MS Swaminathan Foundation had been permitted to set up community radio stations along the Tamil Nadu / Pondicherry coast? Over 5000 people died on the Coromandel Coast.

Even an extensive tsunami watch network would be relative useless if the information is not transmitted immediately to coastal communities, including fishermen out at sea. What if there had been community stations in Carnic, Katchal, Teresa, Campbell Bay? Wouldn't they have been more attuned to the perils of the sea, and acted in time? Wouldn't the local administration have been better prepared to help the islanders in the aftermath of the tsunami?

Community Radio would have been immensely helpful in rescue and relief operations. When everything else failed them, the islanders could have turned to the humble FM transistor radio to tell them where to go, what to do, how to survive. But the law, which permits Rupert Murdoch to run radio stations in India, does not permit our communities to do so.

Years of lobbying for community radio have yielded nothing. Perhaps it is time ask some tough questions now.

Coastal regulation zone clause - a hurdle

by SUDARSHAN RODRIGUEZ
sudarshanr@yahoo.com

Received from KALPAVRIKSH
Mr. Pankaj Sekhsaria
Apt. 5, Sri Dutta Krupa
908 Deccan Gymkhana,
Pune 411004
Tel: 020 - 25654239 / 25675450
Fax: 25654239
E-mail: pankaj@leadindia.org

6 Mar 2005

No concrete measures have been initiated for providing permanent houses for the tsunami-affected fishing families in coastal districts. But the initial or preparatory moves by the State and district administration have stirred a hornet's nest. The coastal regulation zone and the continuing controversy over the feasibility of implementing the 500 m freeze on construction activity are posing serious problems for both the authorities and fisherfolk.

The relevant GO on construction of permanent houses for the tsunami-affected population seems clear: a "preliminary discussion with the affected population, including the panchayat/ ward members and the president [of the panchayat or appropriate local body] will be required to assess whether they [fisherfolk] would be interested in shifting from their existing location."

On the basis of a discussion, the District Collectors of the 13 affected districts have been asked to take up survey of coastal hamlets to cover all partly and fully damaged houses within 500 m of the High Tide Line.

"A conscious decision has to be taken whether houses partly or fully damaged in the range of 500-1000 metres will also have to be relocated. The survey should assess the details of the fully damaged and partly damaged houses, including kutcha houses," says the order.

While the survey has been completed in some districts, it has not been able to make much progress in some areas - notably in Chennai - owing to what officials describe as "non-cooperation" by affected families. Official sources say in some fishing colonies the headmen insist the authorities must go by the list provided by them. There is a deadlock there.

What has irked fisherfolk and raised strong protests from non-governmental organisations is the statement, "In case of houses within 500 metres line, it is necessary that they are compulsorily relocated. However, if a further distance above 500 metres is required because of the topography, relocation may have to be undertaken. It is necessary that the vulnerable areas are fully covered. In case of relocation, the existing houses will have to be handed over to the Government by relinquishment for appropriate action, since the beneficiaries in the new locations will be given full ownership patta for the area under their enjoyment and the construction will be fully funded either by the Government or by the NGO/ Voluntary agencies/ public and private enterprises/ national or international rehabilitation organisations."

Insensitive policy

The Citizens Platform for Tsunami Affected-Tamil Nadu has described this as an "insensitive rehabilitation policy."

"We are appalled by the fact that the relief and rehabilitation policy of the Government is not exhibiting any sensitivity to the issue of housing and livelihood rights of the affected communities... Instead of focussing on enabling the affected communities to regain their livelihoods in the shortest time, the Government has embarked on a plan to clear beaches of the fishing community and relocating them in places far away from their traditional homelands." The forum has raised fears over the "real intention of the Government". Official sources say the administration, both at the State and district levels, was only focussing on the larger canvas for rehabilitation. "There are serious problems involved in land acquisition and relocation. Our first objective is to identify the land in each area, which, we must then acquire if it is not government or poramboke land. We must keep everything ready to start work on permanent housing once the funding is tied up," explains a senior official.

On the debate over the 500 m barrier, he said "There are two issues involved. The CRZ is a Government regulation and we cannot brush it aside. But we do realise that the fishermen need to be as near the coast as possible. There are inherent contradictions in this scheme that need to be resolved. Depending on the availability of land in each area we will take a decision."

Extinction threat for Andaman natives - and a new government policy

by SUBIR BHAUMIK, BBC News, Port Blair

Received from KALPAVRIKSH
Mr. Pankaj Sekhsaria
Apt. 5, Sri Dutta Krupa
908 Deccan Gymkhana,
Pune 411004
Tel: 020 - 25654239 / 25675450
Fax: 25654239
E-mail: pankaj@leadindia.org

5 Mar 2005

After decades of efforts to bring the tiny population of what some anthropologists call "Stone Age aboriginals" into the mainstream, the administration in India's Andaman and Nicobar Islands has finally decided to leave them alone.

"It will now be our avowed policy to minimise unnecessary and inappropriate contact between the primitive tribes and settlers [from Indian mainland]," says Uddipta Ray, tribal welfare secretary in the government.

"Only a few officials in our administration will have access to the aboriginal habitats to protect them from poaching and illegal intrusions by the settlers.

"We will ensure their food security, the security of their habitats, we will encourage them to pursue their traditional lifestyle, there is no question of imposing any outside culture or beliefs on them," Mr Ray told the BBC.

No immunity

Only around 900 of the aboriginals, belonging to five tribes, are left alive in the archipelago, down from around 10,000 a century ago.

Their dwindling numbers were blamed initially on British colonialism and then on Indian "friendly contact" policy which led to their intermingling with mainland settlers, exposing them to diseases from which they had no immunity.

The Great Andamanese - the most assimilated of the aboriginals - have suffered worst, their numbers now down to 36 from 5,000 a century ago. Their chief, Jerake, is battling death in a hospital now.

The Onges, taught to eat Indian food and speak Hindi like the Great Andamanese, are down to around 98 people.

Ripped open

"The less contact we have with them, the better is their chance for survival," says Dr Ratan Chandra Kar, whose services in saving the Jarawa tribe from a measles epidemic in 1998-99 have been highly acclaimed by the authorities.

"Every time a primitive tribe has developed much contact with the settlers, they have been hit by epidemics."

The Jarawas, hostile until about a decade ago, were befriended by "contact parties" who landed on their beaches with gifts at regular intervals.

But their forest habitat was ripped open when the 340km Andaman trunk road was constructed through it to connect south Andaman with the north of the island.

The Andamans' new chief secretary, D.S. Negi, in a book about the archipelago, has described the construction of the trunk road as "an act of monumental folly".

The road has not been closed despite a Supreme Court order.

The settlers from the mainland, mostly Bengali or Tamil speakers, threatened to launch a protest campaign if that happened.

Minimum intervention

Mr Negi told the BBC there is a police presence to keep away poachers and tour operators bringing visitors to gape at naked Jarawas. Offenders have been warned of stern legal action.

Colleagues say Mr Negi is the driving force behind the "minimum intervention" policy.

Some officials argue the policy would be strengthened if visiting VIPs from Delhi were prevented from "Jarawa visits".

It was even suggested that a fence be constructed on both sides of the trunk road.

That was turned down by the authorities for financial and ecological reasons.

The Sentinelese tribe numbers between 250 and 300 people, and their habitat in North Sentinel island, west of Port Blair, is very inaccessible.

"We did send a team there to assess tsunami damage but we are not interested in pursuing any further contact with them," says Mr Ray.

Resource base ruined

For decades, anthropologists, environmentalists and health experts have severely criticised the administration for trying to "mainstream" the aboriginals.

Sita Venkateswar, known for her work among the Andaman tribes, calls the government's contact policy "internal colonisation and calculated ethnocide".

"Indian policy drove a race of energetic hunter-gatherers to sedentary habits, destroyed their social structure, introduced group rivalries through selective patronage and exposed them to disease by giving them Indian food, tobacco and alcohol," she says.

Officials in the Andaman-Nicobar tribal welfare department agree with her in private. They admit the much-publicised beach landings with gifts to "contact" the tribes were a great mistake.

Those contacts may have made the tribes less hostile to settlers and the administration but they led to more and more encroachment on their habitat.

"Sense is now dawning on the administration and it is a good thing if they leave the aboriginals alone, but it may be far too late to save them from extinction," said one official in the Anthropological Survey of India.

Reflections from a post-Tsunami Nicobars

by Dr. SIMRON JIT SINGH
Institute for Social Ecology. University of Klagenfurt, Vienna

4 March 2005

Editor's note: This is an original article, not before published elsewhere. It has been written by the only western-trained scientist to visit and carry out research in the Nicobar islands over the past several years. Dr. Simron Jit Singh is also the author of the only recent authoritative book on the islands. During his many visits, he has made friends with and has become trusted by the Nicobaris. Dr. Singh has been in the Nicobars for the past month and he is there at present. His remarks are, therefore, not only based on his extensive knowledge of the islands and the islanders, but also reflect the very latest situation and the thinking of the Nicobaris themselves. The article is required reading for all those responsible for distributing aid in NGOs, government and other agencies - not least as an object lesson on how NOT to treat a people that one is trying to help.

While the Tsunami was in itself a traumatic experience for most, what has followed is even more traumatic. This is true especially for the inhabitants of Chowra, Bompoka and Trinket, the three islands in the Central Nicobars that were badly damaged and are now seen as unfit for habitation.

Chowra, a small flat island with a high population density and limited natural resources, had a pre-Tsunami population of 1,464, now reduced to 1,408. The relatively low number of casualties was completely unexpected. In view of the Tsunami's behaviour in Car Nicobar, the complete destruction of Chowra was initially feared. However, when rescue operations ended on Chowra on 4th January, it was found that "only" 56 had died. No, the waves had not spared the rest of the population: most of them had been washed out to sea. But the Chowrites, sea people that they are, managed to fight the gigantic waves and swim back to land. The Chowrites are no ordinary people. Up to now, they are the only group in the Nicobars that have maintained a strong cultural identity despite outside interventions. It is known throughout the archipelago that the Chowrites have remained opposed to we1fare and development programs promoted by the Administration until recently. To the Chowrites, their identity and culture, inextricably linked to their land, are endowed with magic and has been foremost in all contact with the outside world.

For the first time, the people of Chowra have now been separated from their land. Following the rescue operations, all inhabitants of Chowra and Bompoka were moved to relief camps on Teressa island. Having spent two unhappy months there, they now wish to return to their islands and start a new life. But, unfortunately, they are not allowed to do so. In a meeting that was organized by the Administration on Teressa in early February, discussions were held with the Chief Captain of Chowra, Jonathan. The Administration urged Jonathan to stay in their new home on Teressa and tend to their plantations on Chowra, at least during the temporary rehabilitation phase. The main argument put forth by the Administration was the lack of water on Chowra. Jonathan failed to understand why this should be an issue after the Tsunami. Chowra had always faced water scarcity, no solution to which had ever been found or sought by the Administration, so why should this suddenly be an issue now? Jonathan expects nothing from the Administration. Why should he? He said that the desalinization plant that had been set up at one point worked only for a short while. It never got repaired or serviced when it broke down. His people had managed well in the past and they could do so now. Two weeks after that meeting, Jonathan, in a letter, still begged for boats "to return to Chowra for at least 10 days to collect our left belongings ... before the [southwest] winds, because then there will be many problems once this wind starts. We have to reach Chowra before that". When an official assessment team visited Chowra for the first time on 28th February, it was surprised to find that conditions on Chowra were much better than in most other villages/islands. Unfortunately, it had taken 2 months to realize this.

Katchal, an island that lost about 5,000 of its inhabitants, is still experiencing tremors. The island has lost nearly 30% of its land to the sea. That land is now under water. Driving through the remaining coastline shows a desolate look. Everything has been flattened, and what remains is rubble and a sad tale of loss and grief. An orphaned girl tried to commit suicide. Several even refuse to look at the sea - it reminds them of their family members who drowned with no possibility to help. The Nicobarese, at first terribly shocked, are now extremely agitated in the relief camps. They feel suffocated in this new environment where stingy supply of goods only takes away their dignity and makes them look like beggars. "Leave us alone. We can manage on our own. We don't need biscuits and chips. We need to make our homes and plant our gardens. Give us tools, if you wish to help us", is what they have started to say. Some are even of the opinion that outside interference and non-indigenous settlers are the cause of their sufferings, only triggered by the Tsunami. "This is our land. Please leave us alone. Otherwise we are sure to die", says John Paul, a new, emerging leader.

It is interesting to note that a community that has been described by the British and Indians alike as "lazy", can be so agitated without work. Time and again, the Nicobarese have been demanding tools so that they can begin making their shelter and plant their gardens to ensure food for the coming year. None are waiting for the government to come and make their homes, and none are expecting the government to feed them for years.

Kephus, the captain of Bompoka island, is unable to understand why he cannot return to his island. He has very clear plans on what he and his people intend to do once they return. After building their shelters, they will establish a horticultural garden with bananas, pineapples, jackfruits, and various other fruits and vegetables. "If we plant these before the monsoons, we can feed ourselves from next February. We will sell fish, fruits and vegetables to the non-tribal population living in some of the villages on Teressa and with the cash we get we can buy a few necessities from the market. But we have to hurry. This is a good time to start planting", says Kephus in consternation. Unfortunately, what stops Kephus and his people is the lack of boats, and government permission to return. The anxiety to begin a new life and fend for themselves, despite so recent a trauma, reflects the resilience of the Nicobarese in the face of tragedy along with a singularly strong determination that life must go on, government or no government. One may wonder at the ease with which the Nicobarese may be misunderstood if you see them chewing paan and gazing for hours into the ocean without a twitch - and realize that this is not laziness but their modesty with which they have merged with and adapted to their environment.

Trinket's captain, Fortifer, gazes for hors at his island in total blankness. He cannot believe that his village, located in the low-lying parts of the island, is no more. Once where a beautiful village stood, roars the ocean amidst a handful of palms that remain standing. His people wish to return, but where? The village land is washed away. Some families who own parts of the high grasslands are keen to return and set up a plantation before the monsoons. But there is no water until the rain actually arrives that will eventually charge the small seasonal streams. The thought of his village disintegrating is something most distressing to Fortifer. Fortunately, he has enough land on Kamorra, facing Trinket, which has offered to the people for setting up a new Trinket. At least they can all be together, and yet maintain their plantations on Trinket. The new p1ace is renamed from Vikasnagar to New Laful (the Nicobarese name for Trinket). However, grief stil1 grips most of them. "I wish to send my two little sisters to Port Blair to school. They have stopped playing" says Samson, the son of the former chief, a dear friend of mine who was taken away by the waves. They hope to return to Trinket one day but until then, all they can do is to occasionally cast a glimpse on what is left across the sea. But some cannot wait. Says Amber, the young leader of Trinket representing 11 families "we can survive on our own. We don't need anything from the Government. Please let us go".

Indigenous people across the world are very much part of the ecosystem that has nurtured them. Their entire world-view and identity are inextricably linked to the life support system that surrounds them. Compared to the death of a family member, being alienated from their land is much more traumatic. For example, a father who had lost his son in the Tsunami, when asked what he would like to do with the dead body that lay at his feet, simply replied, "he is dead, what should I do with him?", and he went off to collect the remains from the debris where his hut once stood. While death, in their understanding, is a natural process, the loss of their land is not. It means the very extinction of their roots, and hence their being in the world. More than half a century of the nation state, some Nicobarese still feel responsible for protecting their lands from intruders. Kephus is worried that the Indonesian "poachers" who regularly visit Bompoka may come and take over their lands in their absence. They must, therefore, return soon and protect their "homeland" before they lose it. A small child when asked where his home was, points to the remnants of where his house once stood. Jonathan has categorically stated that "we may die but we have to go back. What will we do here? We need to work...we have our plantations there and we cannot think of leaving our island". No argument convinced Jonathan. A life without their island is inconceivable to them. The idea of the Vice-Chief Captain of Teressa, Peter, to divide the population of Chowra into 7 villages on Teressa is abominable to Jonathan. He was clear in stating that his people would stay together and would not be divided.

Ever since the Tsunami, Thomas Ton, the Chief of Camorta Island for the past 20 years has been weak with depression. His village, Munack, is the only place where the old huts still adorn the coastline. This is a miracle since the waves here crashed into the coastline with heights of 20 meters. Thomas had heard of Tsunamis from his grandfather and that it will come again. But he had forgotten about it. "After the earthquake, I remembered the warning given by my father. After the earthquake, everybody ran out of their houses and gathered on the seashore. I warned them to move away from the seashore. Then everybody went into the jungle". Fortunately, there were no casualties in Munack. Yet the loss of so many other lives and the present anguish of those surviving is beyond his capacity. The once lively chieftain sat melancholic, smoothening feebly a piece of wood that will be part of his new shelter some 100 meters inland. "The people are fighting" he nods sadly, "they think that the world is coming to an end, they are scared, they feel insecure, hence they are fighting among themselves. Little things get them agitated." Thomas is extremely sad and tries to advise his people not to fight. "Some people [outsiders] are just waiting to attack and take away our land. So we should not fight. We must stay united, otherwise outsiders will take advantage and attack. We are too few. We cannot fight back." Gripped by despair, Thomas still finds a ray of hope, that is, the revival of the old system based on values and a traditional way of life. "If the old system is not adopted, things will go from bad to worse."

The concern of the Administration to rehabilitate the Nicobarese in a suitable and safe environment is not being doubted. However, any such process must accompany, even for a well-intentioned person, a certain level of sensitivity in what is socially and culturally appropriate as well. The new design of houses being promoted by the Administration for temporary rehabilitation involve aluminium pipes, large quantities of nuts and bolts and GI sheets. The argument is a genuine one. The design was made by an architect in collaboration with a seismic expert. Given a thought, the Nicobari huts are most suited to survive earthquakes. The design of their houses is scientifically proven by local architects to be well-suited to an earthquake-prone zone and other natural conditions such as climate, ecology, and resource availability. What makes us think that the Nicobarese have forgotten to make their huts after the Tsunami? Where will all the aluminium pipes after the temporary rehabilitation be dumped? What are the ecological consequences of this? If they are to become permanent structures, who will ensure a sustained supply of these materials for repair and maintenance? Who will pay for them? In short, is this economically and ecologically viable? Furthermore, we need to be aware that the concepts of 'temporary' and 'permanent' is alien to the Nicobarese. They are longing to establish a home, to re-establish their roots, and to have a sense of belonging to a place. They are not material objects that can be moved from here to there at will. If we are committed to comfort them in any way, there must first be a sensitive recognition of their needs, allow them the necessary dignity to choose, and show respect for their capacity to deal with the forces of life.

The conditions of the relief camps, though sufficient in rice and potatoes, is not what the Nicobarese are accustomed to, socially and culturally. With lack of work to do, anxious to construct their temporary shelters, stressed in the restricted and unfamiliar environment of the relief camps, new dynamics are triggered. There are inter-generational conflicts, questions of leadership (several old leaders have died), questions around redistribution of land and resources, and the restructuring of the former joint family system. While such tensions under the given circumstances are to be expected, the camp conditions are most inappropriate to negotiate on such issues peacefully without danger of conflict.

It is distressing to have to state that one of the most basic requirements of the Nicobarese, tools for reconstruction (shovels, axes, hammers, nails, etc) still have not arrived in sufficient quantities 2 months after the Tsunami.

One of the most essential belongings of any Nicobari (or indeed of any indigenous community) is a set of tools. With the Tsunami having washed away this important capital, the Nicobarese are unable to undertake the necessary steps towards self-rehabilitation. It is distressing that the importance of tools for the Nicobarese was not recognized as an important precondition for temporary rehabilitation. Furthermore, the tools that have arrived are "useless", in the words of Tong Kumar, tribal leader from Safed Balu. He angri1y burst out at the government officials when they said that the axes had arrived. "This is not what we want. It is not rameel [tempered]. Try cutting my head with it! How can you cut a piece of wood? It slips! India is a big country. You should have asked me from where we need our axes! They are available in Chinatown ...". The officials were left perplexed.

The women are the group that have been entirely neglected. 'They still wear men's clothes and are waiting for cloth and sewing machines with which they can make their traditional dresses. The Government has sent them saris which nobody here wears. Also the saris are of polyester material which constantly slips from the waist if tied around. But the Nicobarese know how to use every bit that they can get - even if it arrives as drift. The saris, therefore, have been converted into mosquito nets, something they had not received in sufficient quantity. The women here traditionally wrap a loin cloth (lungi) around their waists in addition to a self-stitched blouse.

The Nicobarese may not have the worldly wisdom to deal adequately with the outside world, but they certainly do have the capability to comprehend and survive in their own environment. Jonathan's response to the presentation made by the Administration for the introduction of toilets on Teressa was, "we do not even have enough drinking water. How can we spare one bucket after each use". A single Tsunami would certainly not have destroyed their capacity to deal with the vicissitudes of nature, nor their resilience to begin a new life. We would do them great injustice if we did not acknowledge these attributes and by imposing our urban ideology without understanding their life-context. In doing so, we would only be incurring potential misunderstandings between the community and the Administration that might be counterproductive in the long run.

Coastal and marine biodiversity of Great Nicobar

by Dr. K. SIVAKUMAR
ksivakumar@wii.gov.in
Source : Dr. L. Kannan, CAS in Marine Biology

4 March 2005

Assessment of biodiversity of flora and fauna of the coral reef environment of the Great Nicobar island showed the presence of 150 species of phytoplankton, 80 species of seaweeds, 9 species of seagrasses, 109 species of zooplankton, 87 species of crustaceans (including 55 species of brachyuran crabs, 18 species of hermit crabs, 3 species of lobsters and 9 species of shrimps and 2 species of stomatopods), 119 species of molluscs (including 30 species of bivalves, 83 species of gastropods and 6 species of cephalopods), 49 species of echinoderms (including 9 species of starfish, 8 species of brittle stars, 11 species of seaurchins and sand dollars and 21 species of sea cucumbers) and 258 species of fishes (belonging to 14 genera). Besides, 39 species of coral boring organisms were also identified from the coral reef area of the Great Nicobar island. Many of the floral (3 species of seagrasses, 12 species of mangroves) and faunal (35 species of echinoderms, 22 species of benthic polychaetes, 144 species of fishes) species identified from here were found to be new distributional records for the Great Nicobar island.

Centre dreams of Andamans as an ideal township

by SUDHARSHAN RODRIGUEZ
sudarshan_rodriguez@rediffmail.com

2 Mar 2005

The government wants the Andamans and Nicobar islands to be rebuilt after December 26 tsunami as an ideal island township with modern infrastructure.

The project would need about Rs. 3,000 crores, as per the estimates of the Planning Commission, which has begun work on long-term rebuilding of the islands, along with Tamil Nadu's coastal belt.

Sources said the focus would be on the Andamans, which is to be "showcased as a major Indian effort at resettling tsunami-affected people'' to the rest of the world.

The commission has hired the services of experts for the project. A major effort would be required in persuading people to change their lifestyle resettle them in cluster housing, sources said.

As per the plans, the islanders would be resettled in colonies, with each house costing about 1.5 lakh. Modern jetties would be constructed in each island. Sources said the Union territory government has been advised to float global tenders for this project. "The island would have a referral hospital, medical and engineering colleges and modern infrastructure,'' sources said.

Acknowledging the work of NGOs' in reaching out to the tsunami-affected areas, Planning Commission member Hamida Sayeed recently called representatives of prominent NGOs involved in relief and rehabilitation work. Sayeed sought their help in the commission's ambitious plans and also promised to coordinate relief work with them.

Responding to the widespread criticism that after the tsunami, the government had left NGOs on their own, the Planning Commission had set up a "Tsunami NGO Coordination Cell for Resettlement and Rehabilitation of Survivors'', comprising representatives from 25 NGOs and commission officials.

The NGOs have offered to work in areas assigned to them by the government. "Even if it's after two months of the disaster, at least someone took pains to speak to us to know how we could be helpful,'' Dino Touthang of the EFICOR organisation said.

The NGOs, sources said, told Sayeed that a lot of relief work was getting duplicated due to lack of coordination. The NGOs have asked the government to settle the legal aspects regarding nearly 5,000 missing people in the island at the earliest. The NGOs also opposed plans to shift fishermens' communities from the coastal belts.

Nicobars: Tribe refuses to be silenced after tsunami

Story by SIMON DENYER

Received from SUDARSHAN RODRIGUEZ
Conservation Management Analyst
Flat 2B, Adithya Apartments
38 Balakrishna Road
Valmiki Nagar,Thiruvanmiyur
Chennai-600 041
Tamilnadu, India

Phone:+91 44 5201 9470
Mobile: +91 9840680127
Fax: +91 44 52019468
E-mail: sudarshanr@yahoo.com

1 Mar 2005

They are the forgotten victims of Asia's catastrophic tsunami, but India's gentle Nicobarese tribe are determined that their voices should finally be heard.

The tsunami robbed the tribe of 5,000 of its men, women and children, nearly a fifth of their total population on the remote islands, 1,200 km (750 miles) from the Indian mainland.

Now, tribal leaders are facing up to a new challenge -- defending their lands from illegal settlers and an indifferent bureaucracy.

"We have been heavily exploited and now we have lost our lands and our livelihoods," tribal leader John Paul wrote in an emotional appeal to the Lieutenant-Governor of the Andaman and Nicobar islands. "Either you kill us, or you remove the non-tribals from our land."

For several days after the Dec. 26 tsunami, many people on these idyllic forested islands, ringed by clear blue seas and pristine coral reefs, saw no sign of help.

Officials were either dead, had fled to provincial capital Port Blair or seemed indifferent to their plight.

"The initial reaction was very bad," said Prince Rashid Yusuf, a tribal leader who says hundreds of lives were lost unnecessarily. "Many people were unconscious after the tsunami but they could have been saved.

"There was a boat here, but the assistant commissioner said it could not be used for rescue operations as he had received no orders from Port Blair. So we had to save ourselves, and use our own canoes and boats."

The assistant commissioner has since been posted elsewhere, but the indifference of authorities here remains a source of anguish to tribal leaders.

The islands are ruled directly from Delhi through a Lieutenant-Governor, a system unchanged from British colonial rule. Lacking their own parliament, Yusuf says their voices are scarcely ever heard thousands of miles away in New Delhi.

Peace-loving farmers

The Nicobarese are a peaceful race of pig and coconut farmers, Christians who live with their extended families in thatched houses by the sea. Now most of their pigs are dead and their plantations flooded by sea water.

In the past 30 years, the government has settled thousands of mainland Indians in these supposedly protected tribal islands, as well as refugees from Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.

The abundant and lush islands looked attractive from the crowded mainland, and it was a good way to cement their allegiance to the new Indian nation. But tension between natives and new arrivals has never been far from the surface.

The tsunami has made a bad situation worse. In the island of Katchal, most of the 4,000-odd victims were tribals living by the coast. Settlers from Sri Lanka, who work on a rubber plantation in the interior, were largely spared, and now outnumber their hosts.

"The problem in Katchal is that these people want more land," said tribal chief Michael Solomon, who lost his five-year-old granddaughter to the tsunami. "But we can't give them more land, so it's better they leave."

Tribals accuse the settlers of descending on the shores in the tsunami's wake, and plundering the dead. "They cut off fingers to remove rings, stole chains and jewellery," said 67-year-old Joseph Vish.

The Indian military considers the islands to be of vital strategic interest, lying on some of the world's busiest maritime routes. An air base and a listening post have added to a culture of secrecy, and the islands are off-limits to foreigners and mainland Indians without a permit.

Throughout a closely choreographed visit to the islands, soldiers hovered nervously trying to listen to almost every conversation. This was the first time a foreign journalist had visited Katchal since the tsunami and any talk of tension in such a strategic location may have heightened the nerves.

Lieutenant-Governor Ram Kapse says all settlers were moved according to the law, and dismisses talk of resettlement. But local officials talk more pragmatically about sitting down with tribal leaders as they plan the future.

"Settlers can survive on the mainland, but we are simple people and we cannot," said Yusuf. "This is the only land we have. After the tsunami this is the right time to place our demands, because if the government of India doesn't listen to our demands now, when will they?"

Andamans - the overloaded archipelago

by MRAJSHEKHAR <
rajshekhar@bworldmail.com

1 Mar 2005

The Andaman and Nicobar islands were in a bad shape even before the tsunami struck. As rebuilding begins, old mistakes should not be repeated.

Over the past month, reams have been written about the crisis facing the Andaman and Nicobar islands. However, the coverage missed an important point. Even if the tsunami hadn't lashed it, this sun-soaked, rain-drenched archipelago, recommended by the Lonely Planet for its "unique fauna, lush forests, white sandy beaches and exquisite coral", would have faced a bleak future.

Unlike the tsunami, this is a man-made catastrophe. Over the past 54 years, the population on the islands has soared. Rising from just 30,000 in 1951 to a staggering 480,000 now. As the population has grown, the island's water problem has worsened. Today, households in Port Blair get water once every two days, for thirty minutes. Three summers ago, water supplies ran so low that the local administration, the largest employer by far in this Union Territory, took the unprecedented step of granting mass leave to its staff, hoping they would return to the mainland, leaving more water for those who stayed back.

In the middle of December, I spent a week in the Andamans. What I found was that the ills of the islands went beyond a simple water shortage. In this third most bio-diverse region in the country after the Himalayas and the Western Ghats, forests are receding, fish catches are falling, croplands are going barren faster. As for the tribals, the less said, the better. It is simplistic to blame all on overpopulation. Ultimately, the islands are in trouble because of poor development.

In the weeks and months ahead, the local administration will rebuild the islands. This is, perhaps, a second chance. A chance when old mistakes must not be repeated.

The Andamans have historically been sparsely populated. In the beginning, there were only the native aborigines. Even after the British colonised the islands in 1858, the population did not surge immediately. The 1901 Census counted 24,649 people there. By 1941, there were just about 9,000 more. During the Second World War, Japan annexed the islands. After Independence, aware of the islands' immense strategic value, the Indian government began settling mainlanders in the islands.

And the population started expanding fast. The government gave land to ex-servicemen and emigrants from East Pakistan. To help in administration, it exported bureaucrats and clerks from the mainland. Mind you, it was not easy to lure people to the islands. Tropical paradise or not, even today, the isles are two to four storms-tossed days away by ship from the mainland. The government had to dole out goodies. Transport to the islands was subsidised. Education and healthcare were free. The settlers were promised that in an emergency they would be airlifted to the mainland, gratis. Around the same time, local contractors brought in cheaper migrant labourers. Most of them never went back because it made economic sense for them.

While waiting to board the "MV Akbar", one of the ships plying between Kolkata and Port Blair, I chatted with a fellow passenger, an electrician from Behrampore in West Bengal. He had been working in the islands for 10 years. At Blair, he was making Rs 180 a day. Back home, he could scrape in about Rs 70 a day. Once on the islands, many such labourers would get themselves registered as locals and eventually hunker down.

By 1961, the population had reached 63,548. Three decades later, it had increased more than fourfold to 280,661. And then, in the last decade, it moved into overdrive. A senior official at the Planning Commission's Island Development Authority (IDA) pegs the islands' population at 480,000 now. In effect, the influx that happened over three decades earlier happened in just one decade. And this overloaded mass is huddled into just 38 of the 500 islands dotting this lazily-curving archipelago.

The local administration says there aren't as many people on the island. We'll come to that contradiction later.

The administration has a reason to fret about the number - a lot hinges on it. In the mid-1980s, the IDA, whose recommendations weigh in when the Centre gives out the subsidies, pegged the archipelago's carrying capacity at 450,000. (The carrying capacity of a land mass estimates the supply of resources like water and cropland, and divides that by the desired per capita consumption to arrive at a sustainable population.) And it suggested that the build-up be gradual. "The islands were supposed to hit that number by 2011," says the IDA official.

The islands have crossed that mark seven years in advance. And its impact on the land has been jarring.

In 2004, three students, Reshmi Nair from Kolkata's Indian Institute of Social Welfare and Business Management, and Venkat Ramanujam Ramani and Yachna Srivastava from Mumbai's Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS) studied the impact of human habitation on Neil, a small island 37 km north-east of Blair.

Till 1967, Neil was uninhabited, covered by virgin forest. That year, the first settlers arrived. Seeing the size of the island, the administration settled just 98 families of about 650 people here. But then, when the settlers were left to themselves, they pulled their relatives from the mainland. The 2001 Census counted 2,868 people on the islands, but the local police outpost estimated the population even higher, at 4,450. Whichever the correct number, they were living on a land no larger than that capable of housing 650.

With most of these people involved in agriculture, the settlers' villages and cropland grew to cover 1,216 hectares out of the island's 1,890 hectares, up from 750 in 1967. Continuous cultivation robbed the land of its nutrients. Farming, the students found, was no longer possible without fertilisers. Due to demand for more farmland, forests were cut down. Since it was the forests that recharged the groundwater, the two natural streams and the groundwater in the island dried up. Contractors dredged up from among the most extensive and diverse coral reefs in the country and used it in road construction. "Since fishes are found in the highest density in the shallows, around the corals, their numbers dwindled. So the fishermen's catch has fallen," says Sarang Kulkarni, a marine biologist studying corals on the islands.

This story is being repeated on every inhabited island in the archipelago. A couple of years ago, while conducting a survey on the islands' biodiversity, Samir Acharya, the chain-smoking, cynical convenor of the leading local NGO, SANE (Saving Andaman and Nicobar Ecology), was surprised when he couldn't find any rice field that was over 25-30 years old. With the soil of their older fields spent, farmers had hacked out new ones from the forest.

Overpopulation isn't the only thing to be blamed here; other factors are at play. The first is inappropriate development coloured by a continental mindset. The other is the hijacking of development goals by corruption and petty politics.

Take the first one. Farmers started growing vegetables and paddy. Both the crops made heavy demands that the tropical soil couldn't bear. It's only now that farmers on Neil have started switching to less water-intensive crops like areca nuts and coconuts.The mainlanders' mindset also favoured big projects - like dams and the use of building materials better suited for the mainland. Concrete trumped timber as the

chief construction material on the islands. Both were terrible calls. The first, because this area lies on a faultline. The second, because concrete needs sand, which in this case, was dug up from the local beaches. And that triggered another unhappy chain reaction.

To see the impact of the sand mining, I travelled one noon to the gateway of the Mahatma Gandhi Marine National Park in Wandoor, one and a half hours west of Blair. At first glance, the beach here will score high on any parameter. The colours are striking. The sand is an impossible shade of white. The exposed corals are dark enough to pass for rocks. At regular intervals lie tree trunks, bleached white by a long exposure to sun and tide. The sky itself is a rich blue. In the distance, dark green islands float on an azure sea. Wandoor is a rhapsodic vision of a tropical paradise.

But first impressions can mislead. The story this beach in South Andaman had to tell was more cautionary than hymnal to nature. Right till the 1990s, sand was trucked away from here for use in construction. That resulted in unintended effects. The first to go were the trees. Washing higher up the shore, the waves toppled them. When the waves also threatened the beachfront road, the administration erected a wall - using, ironically, sand from the same beach. But this stopped the waves from depositing the sediments they carried, sand particles and the like, at the end of their glide up the beach. These particles drifted down, settled on the corals, and killed them. The fish population fell. Local fishermen are now sailing out for 3-4 hours to net their daily catch; they used to catch all they wanted within 30 minutes earlier.

By the way, this sand should not even be used for construction. Unlike sand from the mainland, the one from these islands is just 45 per cent silica. The rest is crushed coral, seashells and the like. Also, being saline, it corrodes the steel scaffolding of buildings. No wonder buildings in the Andamans die within an average of 30 years of construction.

But the starkest example of mainland thinking is the Andaman Trunk Road (ATR). The ATR's 340-odd kilometres connect four islands -winding northwards from South Andaman, it links Baratang, Middle Andaman and North Andaman. Before it came up, locals used to rely on steamers. It was an imperfect arrangement, insist the ATR's supporters. According to them, the road connects the towns regardless of the weather.

Early one morning, I took a bus ride on the most disputed stretch of the ATR - the part connecting Port Blair to Baratang. This is the stretch that cuts through the Jarawa Tribal Reserve. The only primary forest in the South Andaman, primeval dense tropical forests that have been never logged, was inside the Jarawa reserve. Till we reached the reserve, signs of mankind were never too far away. We passed farmlands,secondary forests, and new buildings made of cement. A few dozen shacks were selling cigarettes, food and coconuts, a line houses were straggled along the ATR. And then, the road was alone again.

The ATR is where the debate on development gets interesting. At , thanks to the road, an unorganised tourism industry had up. Tamilia immigrants were running tours to the local beach, a 'mud volcano', and limestone caves. It was a good business, the informed. He and his brothers were earning Rs 100 a day.

On the islands, development has involved tradeoffs. The road had been for these Tamil immigrants, but catastrophic for the Jarawas and jungle. Jarawa youngsters have begun begging by the roadside for , alcohol, gutka and other stuff. Eventually, worried about the of the road, Acharya and Kalpvriksh, a Pune-based NGO campaigning the rights of native dwellers, filed a Public Interest Litigation. May 2002, the Supreme Court instructed the Union Territory government close down this stretch of the ATR within three months. It's, of course, still open.

Two years after the ruling, the territory's government appealed to the court to reconsider the order. V.V. Bhat, chief secretary, Andaman and Nicobar, says: "That petition is yet to come up for hearing. In the meantime, we have set regulations in place to regulate the traffic. Traffic is now allowed to run only between certain times of the day and vehicles run as convoys."

It's not clear how the territory's government avoided implementing the order in the two intervening years. I am not even sure if the road is needed. A couple of years ago, another TISS student, Richa Dhanju, studied the traffic on the ATR. She found two things. One, most of the locals still preferred the steamers, as they were cheaper and faster. Two, nearly 65 per cent of the people using the road were bureaucrats and tourists. During the recent relief operations, supplies were despatched by boats because the road had cracked. Bad weather or not, there haven't been any accidents with the steamers in all these years, comments Acharya of SANE.

In the bus, a fellow passenger is not convinced of overpopulation in the islands. How can there be overpopulation in an area with so much forest? True, we are too anthropocentric in our outlook, even at the cost of the sustainability of development itself. Having to choose between the livelihood of a family and the extinction of, say, a turtle species, is a no-brainer for some. And that same logic seemingly extends to tug-of-land between the settlers and the so-called uncivilised local tribesmen and the area's flora and fauna.

Yet, excessive anthorpocentrism might be fatal. As Neil and Wandoor show, islands are very fragile. Given their finite resources, everything exists in a delicate equilibrium. When that is disrupted, the results are quick to show. When the tsunami struck, the islands fringed with intact corals and mangroves were not as severely affected as the ones without. This fragility makes the need for sustainable development all the more important. How does one ensure that the threshold stocks of soil quality, forestland, etc. are maintained even in the face of rising numbers and affluence?

It's not that the government, which employs 86 per cent of those working in the organised sector, isn't fighting the perils of unplanned development at its own doorstep. The per capita economic output of this Union Territory has stagnated - what, at Rs 12,901, was twice the national average in 1981-82, was just 20 per cent higher (at Rs 15,703) in 2001-02. A visit to the Employment Exchange revealed that between 3,000 and 4,000 people submit their resumes every year. Of them, just 600-700 land a job.

To address the unemployment problem, the government has identified three industries it wants to boost - tourism, high-value agriculture and fisheries. The first two of these three, ironically, are going to be hobbled by the water shortage.

The water problem, the Andaman Public Works Department told me, would be fixed once the height of the dam on Dhanikari Creek was upped by 5 metres. The forest cover, the administration insisted, was still 86 per cent. Aerial photographs of the islands by the National Remote Sensing Agency, however, show that it's much lower, at 66 per cent. But to the island authorities, what we see is apparently not what they have.

But the authorities were at their dodgiest when quizzed on the issue of overpopulation.

I began to understand why, when, a few days after coming to Blair, I met the former BJP MP from the islands, Bishnu Pada Ray. According to him, there is no need to curb migration yet. He said: "Migrants are not coming to the islands any more; people are leaving." He added that the islands could easily accommodate another 100,000.

Oddly, the local Census department supports Ray's claim. The 2001 Census counted 356,152 people living on the islands. That was a shock - the IDA figure was a good third higher. And other data corroborated the IDA view as well. The local office of the Shipping Corporation agreed that their ships were always coming in full, and going out half empty. Numbers from the port authority corroborated this.

To resolve the matter, I called the local civil supplies department. In 2001, how many people had their names on ration cards? About 370,000, the department informed. There, it was clear! Every settler doesn't have a ration card. Many migrant workers would not have ration cards. The actual population was bound to be higher than 370,000. It was just what the three students had found at Neil. There, too, the Census numbers were lower than what the local police maintained.

Evidently, there is a lot of political opposition to stopping the influx. So much so that it has managed to derail a Supreme Court order. As a part of the same 2002 ruling on the ATR, the Court had ordered the administration to introduce an inner line permit regime. But migration continues unabated to this day.

The reasons aren't too difficult to fathom. Both Ray and the current MP, Manoranjan Bhakta of the Congress, hail from Bengal. Between them, they account for roughly equal amounts of vote. It is the DMK's support that decides who becomes the MP. And so, between them, the three parties encourage migration from West Bengal and Tamil Nadu.

On this overloaded archipelago, development has being repeatedly hijacked by selfish considerations. It's as if development has been evolving by chance, as the stepchild of decisions made for private gain.

Take the water problem. To resolve it, the APWD plans to increase the Dhanikari dam's height. By doing that, said G.C. Khattar, chief engineer of the APWD, water needs for the next 10-15 years would be met. On a longer term, the APWD was mulling an ambitious project. It would build a giant wall at Flat Bay, where the Dhanikari Creek meets the sea, to keep seawater out. Over time, this would become an artificial fresh water lake in the sea. The cost for raising the dam's height: Rs 100 crore; that for the Flat Bay scheme: Rs 350 crore.

There was a cheaper alternative the APWD wasn't considering. The islands get rainfall around the year - from the south-west and the north-last monsoons. On my way back from Wandoor, I stopped at a diggi, a traditional rainwater harvesting structure. Its water was clean and clear. In contrast, the water being piped by the APWD to my guesthouse was rust brown in colour. And yet, the organisation had not even studied the potential for rainwater harvesting in the islands.

It's now superfluous to add that given a sufficiently large quake, even the stoutest of sea walls will crumble. In the days after the tsunami, South Andaman was rocked by a series of aftershocks, ranging between 5.5 to 6 on the Richter scale. Ironically, this brought down even more concrete structures, while traditional wood structures stayed up. Hope the administration would heed the wisdom while reconstructing.

Development is for the long term; but the logic driving it in the Andamans has been short-term. The results have been predictable. Musharraf Ahmed, an auto-rickshaw driver, remembers the summer of 2002 vividly. That year, the rains came late. And water levels behind the Dhanikari dam dwindled. For two months that year, Ahmed's family got 6-8 buckets of water - once every three days.

After returning to Delhi, I met M.N. Murty, professor at the Institute of Economic Growth. He wasn't too worried about the water ituation. Answers could be found, he said. What concerned him more was the outlook for sustainable development. Was it possible to make the people better off while ensuring that threshold stocks of resources are maintained?

There is nothing unique about what the islands are going through. As population rises, everyone places more demands on the land. Nor are the islands facing anything unique in terms of short-sighted development. The outlook for sustainable development is dim across India.

This hasn't come about for want of proper regulation. India, said Murthy, has comprehensive legislation encouraging sustainability. And yet, we are unable to make a headway. That's partly because monitoring and enforcement costs are very high, and partly because of corruption. Tax disincentives push companies towards cleaner technology. They can either pay tax for polluting, or install cleaner technology. But corruption offers another alternative. Formal regulation founders between these two.

One tiny ray of hope comes from the fact that informal regulation is, however, working. Local communities are getting more active - protesting, lobbying, filing PILs. This has also been visible in the islands. Four months ago, a forest department team went to Mannarghat, a village in South Andaman, to harvest wood. The villagers did not let them. This is our water resource, they said, you cannot touch the forest.

But even that can only go so far. The administration needs to act on the orders passed and the wisdom that's staring them in the face.

I remember the first island I saw as "MV Akbar" neared the Andamans. Densely forested, they seemed to hang low over the sea. On one side, a flat lick of land, lower than the rest of the island, jutted out. On it grew three palms. It made a striking silhouette. On that darkening evening, as the islands floated by, they seemed small and fragile.

I hope we remember that. And that we don't always get a second chance.

 

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