The Unbreakable Spirit of Kerala’s Snake Boat Racers

In a year marked by devastating floods and crippling financial struggles, Kerala has found a beacon of hope in its traditional sport: snake boat racing. Thousands gather each weekend to witness the spectacle of wooden boats slicing through the backwaters, their raised sterns giving them an unmistakable cobra-like appearance. The Alappuzha district, often referred to as the rice bowl of Kerala, has been ravaged by monsoon floods in recent years.

The villagers of Kainakary, who are struggling to maintain their livelihoods amidst the destruction, have found solace in their centuries-old sport. Vakkachan Theverkkat, a seasoned oarsman and captain of the United Boat Club (UBC), has managed to keep his team’s spirits high despite the challenges. “It runs in my family,” he says with a smile, hinting at the deep-seated tradition that drives these rowers.

The UBC, which has won the prestigious Nehru Trophy 12 times, is one of the few boat-owning communities that have managed to stay afloat despite financial struggles. Funding each season costs nearly 7 million rupees, with owners earning back only a fraction from sponsors and prize money. This precarious balance between tradition and finance raises questions about the sustainability of this sport in the face of natural disasters.

Kerala’s government continues to promote snake boat racing as a tourist attraction, but it’s essential to examine the reality on the ground. While the sport weaves together different communities through its shared passion for competition and prayer, it also serves as a reminder of the state’s cultural diversity and resilience. “There’s no barrier like religion or caste when it comes to the boat,” says Robin Varghese, a Christian priest and member of the Veeyapuram committee.

The symbolism of these snake boats is not lost on anyone who has witnessed their grandeur. Originally designed as battle canoes in the 13th century, they have become an unlikely symbol of unity in a state known for its cultural diversity. The rhythmic songs chanted during the race draw on Hindu, Christian, and Islamic traditions, underscoring the sport’s ability to transcend boundaries.

When a snake boat is retired, it is cremated like a person, and a ritual is held to transfer its soul to a new vessel. This poignant tradition serves as a reminder of the emotional investment these communities have made in their sport. As the wooden boats slice through the backwaters this weekend, we must remember that they represent a community’s determination to preserve its heritage in the face of adversity.

The hard questions remain: how can we ensure that this sport continues to thrive despite financial struggles? How can we support the boat-owning communities, who are struggling to keep their traditions alive? As Kerala’s government looks for ways to promote tourism and development, it’s crucial to prioritize the needs of these communities. By doing so, we may just find ourselves learning from the unbreakable spirit of Kerala’s snake boat racers.

The Nehru Trophy will be handed out this weekend, but the real victory lies not in winning or losing – it’s about preserving a tradition that has become an integral part of Kerala’s identity. As we watch these wooden boats glide across the water, let us remember the people who have poured their hearts and souls into keeping this sport alive. For them, there is no greater prize than the knowledge that their culture will continue to thrive long after they are gone.

The outcome may be uncertain, but one thing is clear: the spirit of Kerala’s snake boat racers will not be broken anytime soon.