The storm struck on a moonless midnight in May. Winds whipped up the deep dark waters of the river Muri Ganga which stretches for four kilometres from the delta island of Sagar Deep (which means “sea island” in Bengali) to the first port on the mainland, called Lot Number 8.

The southern tip of Sagar Deep is situated at the point where the Ganges finally flows into the Bay of Bengal after having travelled for thousands of kilometres south from its source in the Himalayan peaks. The northern part of the delta island, surrounded by tributaries of the Ganges, is inhabited by villagers who live in pale yellow mud huts with bright yellow thatched roofs and who farm or fish for a living.

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“Though people of Sagar Deep do not have much money, the literacy rate here is as high as 90 percent,” says Dibos Mondal, an islander and school teacher who lives and works in the village of Kochuberia in northern Sagar Deep. “Education is given a lot of importance even in low-income households.”

This keenness for knowledge can arguably be attributed to the islanders’ exposure to outsiders and the ensuing exchange of thoughts and ideas. While other islands of the delta remained relatively isolated, for centuries pilgrims descended at the confluence, where the Ganges meets the Bay of Bengal to take dips in the water, considered holy by Hindus.

The sage Kapil Muni is said to have lived and attained enlightenment in this location during the Vedic Age, around the 6^th century BCE. A temple dedicated to him and other saints stands at the point of the confluence. The original temple is supposed to have disappeared into the encroaching sea. Says Dibos, “The temple had to be shifted, that is reconstructed three times, and the present one is the fourth one.”

Sagar Deep has schools, colleges and other educational centres. “Its people love to study and are always eager to learn new skills” says Ambarish Nag Biswas, president of the West Bengal Amateur Radio Club (HAM Radio), who has started training groups of people in the radio technology.

Recently, the HAM Radio club has also engaged local people in learning disaster management. “As far as the islanders of this remote part of the delta are concerned, May is a month of storms and superstorms,” Nag Biswas said. Every recent cyclone that ripped through this region, from Fani to Yaas to Amphan did so in the month of May. “And for people living in the delta islands, announcements of approaching storms or superstorms is something that they don’t take lightly.”

The summer months, mainly April and May have seen some of the strongest cyclones hit the delta islands. Cyclones are formed when the surface of the sea becomes so heated that it vaporizes and rises causing a vacuum to be created deep into the sea. This twirls like a whirlpool around the sea gathering momentum until it crashes into shore. People of Sagar Deep and other delta islands are only too familiar with what the summer months can bring.

In 1999, the super storm Aila blew through Sagar Deep and other parts of the Sunderbans causing extensive damage and claiming lives. “Aila caught the islanders by surprise,” Nag Biswas points out. “Those days there was less awareness about approaching storms than now. Now the government and administration has involved themselves in alerting the islanders and undertaking evacuation and rescue work.” However says Nag Biswas there is a need to prepare islanders on how to deal with a storm, super storm or cyclone. “Not that they do not know but cyclones are becoming more regular with each passing year.” Indeed the increase in the number and intensity of cyclones have been linked  to climate change. Nag Biswas says, “It is important and that we train people to take on the new challenges and that is what we are trying to do.”

Dibos who has been a part of the training in disaster management says that the idea is to be prepared, ready. When a storm, super storm or cyclone hits, you ought not to be caught off guard. “Now the islanders all follow the weather reports,” he says, “Prediction of rain, hail, storm, not to mention cyclones and other severe storms, have to be paid heed to. When you live in a city or on the mainland you can perhaps afford to ignore the warnings. But cyclones directly impact the islands causing severe floods, destruction of homes, cattle and even loss of lives.” Part of the training entails not just evacuation and rescue but also tackling the aftereffects of a cyclone, superstorm or storm.

“The damage and destruction caused by cyclones can and does cause severe depression and desolation,” says Nag Biswas. “They lose their homes, belongings and even cattle, not to mention, very often, family members or relatives.” While the government and administration is no longer as lackadaisical as they once used to be, there is need for additional assistance. Our teams are trying to provide that.

One of HAM radio’s most positive and productive endeavours has been to try and plant trees in the region. “Forests, especially the delta’s indigenous mangrove jungles are known to rebuff approaching cyclones by absorbing the impact of high winds. The deep roots of mangrove plants are known to absorb flood water from the rushing deluges during storms, preventing salt water from seeping in and mixing with sweet water on land. “We are trying to build up a community of locals who will be prepared to deal with storms, super storms and cyclones,” says Nag Biswas. For the past decade he has led teams to different disaster-hit zones and has often confronted cyclones head-on.

A spine-chilling, hair-raising account of his team members staring right into the eye of the super storm needs be told and retold.

It was May 2019 and Cyclone Fani was ripping through the states of Odisha and West Bengal after crash landing off the coast of Digha.

The team of boys of the HAM Radio Club, who had been deployed for rescue work, were headed in the direction of the coast. But the howling winds and pounding rain prevented them from making any progress. They were effectively cowering in their car at the side of the road which had turned into a river that was swelling every second, recalls Nag Biswas. It was too late for them to move to safety. The sky had turned completely black and visibility was zero. “Rain pounded the ground and winds, blowing at over 190 kilo meters per hour, swished around the car, sweeping everything into the vortex” says Ambarish Nag Biswas. “Our boys just had to anchor their vehicle like a boat, bobbing up and down on the coastal street which had merged with the sea,” he says. “It is a miracle that they lived through the ordeal and the story they narrated on their return gives us goose bumps even today.”

They fell into the path of the “extremely severe cyclonic storm” as it was called and they saw the “eye”, the hollow centre of the cyclone, with their own eyes. According to one of the men who had witnessed the twister as it passed them, it was like a giant with a massive, spherical body which stretched up to the sky. “We could not take our eyes off it,” he says recalling the terrifying moment. “It is truly a miracle that we survived and I am grateful to the heavens that I and my colleagues lived to tell this tale.”

The famous lines of poet T.S. Eliot recurs in my thoughts and readers would find me going back to the mysterious depths hidden in those words: “April is the cruellest month.” But for the people of the delta and Sagar Deep, you may want to add the month of May to it.

“Yes cyclones are indeed cruel,” sighs Nag Biswas. That is why he is endeavouring to create a local group which can take on and weather the storm. But they are doing so silently. Like the lull before the storm.

The writer is Editor, Features