One Fine Morning: Death Came to Shake Hands with Me

A True Story of Near-Death-Experience

It was a fine January morning with lots of Sunshine, clear blue sky and a cool breeze blowing. I was on a visit to a site, a natural harbour on the east coast of India on Bay of Bengal, about 300 kilometre north of Madras (Chennai, now) port. A routine exercise like so many — I was accompanied by three others, an officer from the Oil Corporation, a Port Engineer and a Dredging Expert. We had arrived from Madras in a hired car with a chauffeur, who drove us to the site. It was a minor port, receiving small vessels, and a fishing port too. This was to be developed into a large port with Oil tanker terminal and container terminal by private investment.

Two rowboats were arranged with crews and the day’s supply — bottled drinking water and some dry snacks. Maps, binoculars, cameras and other paraphernalia were at hand. The Port Manager would accompany us too. The bay was tidal, but calm with low wind speed and weather was just excellent. Everything looked set and fine for the day.

A few plastic chairs were placed on the row boats for us. It was okay, because we could not expect anything better in a small little place like this. In two hours we finished visiting the islands and the mouth of the bay, about a kilometre from the existing berth. There was good consensus about the details to be studied and that made us happy and relaxed. The site conditions were judged favourable for the project and we could do a briefing to the Client’s office the next day. There were some environmental issues, but I was confident to be able to prepare an acceptable Mitigation Plan. We decided to take another go-round and return to the Port. Things looked pretty good.

We were in the middle of the bay when the Oil Company guy felt thirsty. The water bottles were in the other boat, so one of the guys rowing our boat shouted at them. When the two boats came near, two bottles were thrown towards our boat, which our boatman wanted to catch by stretching out. He stretched with a jerk and the boat suddenly careened on one side. Two of us immediately fell in to water with our chairs.

I was in full attire, wearing shirt, trousers, shoes and the camera slung across my neck, all these making me heavy. I did not know how to swim and just went down. Oh! it was so dark all around below water…. Oh God, this is the end….. I was going to drown. Everything went black, my mind was numb with fear. I was gasping for breath when thoughts of death flitted across my mind. Oh God… what will happen to my family with two college going children….who will support them? What about my wife, a home maker? Death was a few moments away, my mind was clouded! I was bobbing up and down, my feet felt like tied with heavy stone; my chest was about to burst…. .

Suddenly I heard a voice; it was my father, whom I lost fifteen years ago, calling me in a feeble voice as if from great distance, saying ‘hold your breath as long as you can….. don’t gulp water, my boy..’ This I did with utmost difficulty. In a few seconds perhaps, I came up again, my eyes were skimming the surface of water ……the boat appeared to be far away; I took my breath instantly and quickly and screamed “help….. help…” . I don’t remember if anyone heard me and the next moment I went down again. I was holding my breath, but I thought can’t hold any longer….came up again, took a quick breath and again I went down. It felt like hours passing by, diminishing my strength each time. The next time I rose, I saw a plastic chair floating and just started thrashing my tired and heavy legs against water. The chair was still some distance away and down I went again. I was so exhausted that I felt like giving up, but somehow came up again.

This time I was desperate…. gathered whatever last bit of strength I had and kept on thrashing my tired limbs to come near the floating chair and grabbed it with both hands. Oh God… I just took several breaths to relieve the sinking feeling. With a few gasps of air, I felt being alive again after the struggle. The water current in the tidal bay had increased due to low tide; it seemed the boat was even farther. A few minutes later, I caught a glimpse of someone bobbing up and down. At almost the same time I saw another person swimming towards me and before I could understand, he took hold of me from behind. By some strange feeling in my head, I did not let go of the plastic chair. So the swimmer left me and went for the drowning man, whom he somehow managed to hold. He then came near, held me as well and three of us finally got lifted in to the boat, one by one. I realized that the ‘other man’ bobbing was the oil company guy.

Somehow, I was in my senses and found the oil guy nearly listless, lying on the boat on his back. So I shouted, “Quick, he is very serious…please get water out of his belly!”. Two men turned him over and pressed his tummy to get water out. They tried hard to get the water out by making him vomit. When we reached the shore, he was cold and unconscious but breathing very feebly. Everyone asked me to get back to the hotel, some fifteen kilometres away in the town and arrange for an ambulance. But how will I go? Where is the chauffeur? Then I realized who saved us. It was none of the boatmen. It was the chauffeur, who was in the other boat for a joy ride perhaps and jumped out to rescue two drowning men. No one would try to save two drowning men at a time, but he did.

In half wet clothes, he drove me to the hotel. Barely able to speak, I pleaded the hotel manager to arrange for an ambulance, which he did. The Oil guy was in critical condition but he was saved and shifted to the town’s hospital eventually. In the evening, when I went to the hospital to see him, I was greeted by my colleagues and a few others from the port with hero’s welcome. They were surprised how I survived without knowing how to swim; it was nearly six minutes I was in water, they said. They were most surprised how I managed to hold on to life without gulping water and yet remained focused! It was no ordinary matter at all!

My team mates concluded that it was God’s grace that we all were saved in that .. ‘accident’ or ‘disaster’, whatever one may call the incident. Anyway, they decided that we must visit the famous Hindu temple at Tirupati to pay our obeisance. This we did but I was not sure if it was God or our lowly paid chauffeur who saved us. Several questions occupied my mind. Firstly, by the laws of physics, the tallest man should have fallen into the water first, particularly because he sat at a higher position on the boat; but nothing happened to him! Someone defied the law of Physics that morning. Secondly, how did I ‘hear’ my long deceased father’s voice, advising me on how to hold on, how to resist getting drowned till help arrived? Thirdly, why the chauffeur chose to ride the boat, which he was not supposed to do at all? Why did he take such a grave risk to try to save two drowning men all by himself? Why and how did I find the floating plastic chair to hold on?

Were all of these mere coincidence? In the first place, could God be cruel enough to have scripted such a story to give me a near-death-experience? Was He cruel or was He kind enough to bring me back from certain death ….. to life and safety?

Many years had passed by; I am still searching for the answer.

*****

Author’s Note:

It did happen to me and I realize that it can happen to anyone. Whatever be the reason of that accident and survival — science, providence or an unsolved mystery, in the end, it was sheer human spirit and selfless help that led to saving two precious lives.

What do you think?