Homegrown Memories and Life Lessons - Standup Paddling in the Canals of River Cauvery at Thanjavur

Kumaran Geopaddler
Aug 23, 2015
4 min read

Updated: May 25

eReturning home from paddling in the Kuwait seas, exhausted as I am, I have work to do. I need to put away my gear in a proper way, so that I can use them the next time. As I hang my life jacket out to dry, dusting off the sand that sneaked on to it, I think of the times it has actually saved my life. Or even more so, the times not wearing the life jacket came as a very costly lesson. At PFF, we always have a strict “safety first” policy. Doesn’t matter whether you are new to the waters or the literal water-bender, you do not enter the waters if you do not have your life jacket on. This applies even if you are just going to float on the banks near the dock. A little excessive, you might think? Well, it is not without good reason. And some serious skin in the game.

As a child, I spent my school days in Chennai, but vacations meant going home to my native at Thanjavur. The hot summer month of Chithirai with occasional mango showers would be spent in the lakes, ponds, and canals of Thanjavur. Unlike other river basins that had large and semi-permanent water bodies, Thanjavur had small temporary river systems called pudhupasanam or new irrigation. This is because River Cauvery is perennial, so there has to be a balance between utilizing the fertile land for agriculture and as a body for irrigation. Even in the dry summer months, there would be lots of water in Thanjavur. This is primarily by the efforts of the Chola kings that ruled the lands, as evidenced by inscriptions in Thiruvaduthurai. Eventually, we grew up, the annual visits dwindled, and just like that, I had no more month-long summer vacations to speak of.

Cauvery Lower Sub Basins

My journey in the waters started with surfing at Bay of Life, Kovalam, but my paddling journey started right here in Chennai, at Great Salt Lake between OMR and ECR. The lake, while it does live up to its name, has nothing in similar to its giant namesake in the North American continent. It is fed by the Buckingham Canal and the Kovalam estuary, and spreads over 5000 acres before it drains back into the Buckingham Canal. The Great Salt Lake is a part of the Kovalam basin. As a first time paddler, it was underwhelming to be honest, but to be fair, this lake takes in every pollutant from Chennai, no wonder it is not pristine and serene like out of a colouring book. I would later go on to paddle across the oceans and rivers, but it all began in an unassuming salty marshland.

The Great salt Lake of Chennai

As a school kid, I had no fear of the waters. Reckless even, true to the proverb இளங்கன்று பயம் அறியாது (The young calf fears no tiger). We would frolic through the ponds next to the percolation pits built for the fishes. However, one day, I mistakenly wandered into the place where the cows were bathing. It was terrifying, I did not know what to do and could not comprehend what was happening – you lose your sense of direction when you panic in water. My cousin Arulmozhi lent me his hand and pulled me out of the waters. I had swallowed a lot of water, my body started shivering as fever set in, and I took almost a week to recover. This young calf learnt to fear the water that day.

Standup Paddling in the Canals of Cauvery at Thanjavur

In 2015, I had the opportunity to visit my hometown along with my son. We were going to a wedding, and I wanted to make the best of it. Me being me, I took my Naish inflatable paddleboard with me. I paddled through the canals and lakes and ponds, taking in both the rich history and nostalgia of the place. I didn’t have a leash, I used a rope given to me thanks to a generous farmer. I paddled upstream in shallow canal. I didn’t have my life jacket on, as I grossly underestimated it’s importance.

Overconfidence took over, and I had let my guard down a bit, I slipped into a canal. All of a sudden, I was dragged by the waters for nearly a kilometer. The cemented canal banks were slippery from the algal deposits in its underside as I desperately tried to hold on to it. To outsiders, my panic seemed like exuberance – it looked as if I was playing along with the waters. Finally, there came by a tree, which was Godsend. I held on to it for life, until I was rescued once again by my cousin. My childhood fears resurfaced.

That was a turning point in my life. On the one hand, I loved the waters. It transported me to another universe altogether, one in which I could be a totally different self. Being in the waters is a way for me to clear all cache and reset before resuming my routine again. But on the other hand, I cannot afford to be traumatized every time the waters overpower me. I had to make a choice – steer clear of the waters, or face it with an armour. I also resolved never to enter the waters without doing a safety analysis first.

It is not the waters that you need to conquer, for it can never be; it is the fear of waters that you overcome, and the universe you will see...

Sipping coffee from my favourite mug as I put away the last of my gear, I know I made the right choice that day. My experiences in stand-up paddling through the rapids of the Ganges, the high tides of Godavari, the fjords of Norway, or the glacial lakes of the Himalayas exist today because I decided to face my fears with an armoured protection. And that's why, providing that armour of protection to all who paddle is our first step at Paddle for Future.