HOW COLVA (GOA) WEATHERED A TIDAL WAVE
BY
ARMAND RODRIGUES
Salcete
in Goa has a coastline of about 20km.
Colva happens to be on this coast.
Towards the latter part of the 19th century, a violent
monsoon storm barrelled towards the shore.
The low-lying areas of Colva provided a ready-made conduit for the
raging waters to move inland, relentlessly, past paddy-fields, in the direction
of the church of Menino Jesus. All indicators called for the worst
outcome. The villagers were
overwhelmed. If the destructive waters
reached the church and encircled it, the clay walls of the church would get
soaked and collapse in a pathetic heap.
In a panic, it was all hands to the pump. Neighbouring villagers were asked to help.
My
grandfather and his five brothers, who lived on the periphery, in
Betalbatim, pitched in without
hesitation. These were subsistence
farmers with only a very scant idea of how to tame a turbulent ocean. However, they felled Pau-de-rosa (rosewood) trees and, armed with logs and hoes, rushed
to the rescue. ( As an aside, it should be mentioned that pau-de-rosa was a hardwood, and “Y” shaped branches were used to
prop up leaning shallow-rooted coconut trees in danger of getting uprooted
during the monsoons). At the vulnerable
site, a breakwater had to be erected. A
long and deep trench was dug parallel to the ocean. Logs were buried upright in the sand on the
landward side and reinforced by coconut trees laid horizontally behind. The excavated sand was tossed behind the
barricade. The dam held and the raging
waters were diverted. The local parish
priest hastened to visit the fortification and sprinkle holy water on it and all
and sundry.
Before
long, to express their gratitude to the Betalbatim clan, the Communidade (Commune) of Colva decreed
that they be accorded the same rights as the Gaunkars (real residents) of Colva.
They were dubbed Hore Hondkar
(true diggers). Thenceforth, every year,
for the feast of Menino Jesus a
drummer and others from Colva were sent to Betalbatim to bring the helpers and
their successors, back in procession, to the rat-a-tat of a kettle-drum, for
the celebration. The helpers wore white gowns topped by a white cape. After High Mass, they were treated to a feast
of food and drink. The foregoing narrative was passed on to my dad who was born
in 1896, and then down to his progeny.
Its veracity was evidenced by me and my brother Placido, on occasions
when we participated in the ritual, in our teens, appropriately robed. In time, fervour for the sentimental practice
dissipated.
Over the decades, wind and tides have
deposited silt in the gully, sufficient to make it unrecognizable. However, after well over a century, vestiges
of the historic trench still exist to the left of the restaurant at the end of
the road leading to the Colva beach.
Satisfy your curiosity if you are so inclined.
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