Aksa guard returns, to run scared

At one point of time in the afternoon a group of ladies waded into the waters. As the tide rose and ladies struggled with cumbersome sarees, Patil sensed danger. Dressed in his swimming trunks and blowing a shrill warning whistle he charged into the waters, only to be shooed away by the men accompanying the women. “Abey hat!” they shoved him aside and hollered at him for “daring” to come near their women “near naked.” “They told me they would take care of their womenfolk,” said an annoyed Patil. He further added that this was a regular occurrence. “If we try and warn, most people think that we are trying to spoil their fun.” Patil who was appointed as a life-guard in 1988 is convinced that unless the authorities provide more staff to keep vigil things will not change. “We also need at least two police constables with us, as our requests to picnickers to avoid entering the waters usually go unheeded.”

Patil, who had a brief stint at the more orderly Shivaji Park swimming pool in 1984 before being posted back to Aksa, begins his duty at 10.30 am and he is supposed to be relieved by his colleague David Gudekar in the afternoon. But as Gudekar has reported sick for a fortnight, Patil, who has been accused by locals as being consistently absent too, swears that he doubles up for Gudekar till 7.30 pm.Patil claims he walks down to the three beaches stretching over a distance of about six kilometres from Marve to Danapani each day and even signs the duty musters kept at all three beaches.

But unlike the powerful four-wheel drive vehicles used by life-guards in Baywatch, the BMC has not provided Patil with even a bicycle, forget other life-saving equipment. “I cannot even afford the bus fares (Rs 4 from Marve to Aksa and Rs 3 from Aksa to Danapani),” Patil said, adding that in the absence of a locker or storage space he deemed it safer to keep the sole life-jacket provided to them with a vendor on the beach.

But in spite of the professional hazards, does he feel weighed by guilt that so many people (there have been 28 deaths at Aksa this year) who could have been saved, weren’t? The life-guard says his presence during an emergency at a particular beach is rare and therefore the chances of saving someone can only be incidental. “There have been numerous instances when both Gudekar and I have spent maximum time at Aksa, but somebody drowns minutes after our departure,” he said.

The danger, according to Patil, is not merely due to the strong undercurrents and quicksand. “The quicksand at Aksa has a tendency to shift, so much so, that a deep drop at a particular spot during ebbs would get completely filled during high tides. Even the locals who are used to these conditions have to be careful,” Patil said.

According to Patil, Gudekar had written to the Medical Health Officer of the P North ward three years ago demanding additional staff at Aksa, but to no avail. “We do feel bad when people die, but are really helpless. We need at least four additional life-guards on the entire stretch, with two being posted at Aksa throughout the day,” he said.