It's a usual lazy Sunday in May! Travelling to Churchgate in a Mumbai local train at 3pm is certainly not my idea of fun, but the two hours of blissful sailing in the Arabian Sea that we have planned, makes it worth it. We're soon aboard a little orange motor boat that will take us to Snipe, a seabird sailboat, one of the many owned by the three major sailing clubs in Mumbai—The Royal Bombay Yacht Club (RBYC), Bombay Sailing Association and Colaba Sailing Club. To help adjust our marine-novice selves to the swirling waters around, is Viraf Hansotia, a member of the RBYC. Ten minutes later, we step aboard Snipe, the main sail goes up and we set off at a leisurely pace, munching on chicken quiche as we wait for the wind to pick up.
We leave the Gateway of India, Mumbai's famous yellow basalt colonial landmark, which grows smaller in the distance as we sail South towards Colaba Lighthouse (towards Navy Nagar), and then head East. At the grey-and-white Dolphin Lighthouse, we pass a bunch of kids who are learning to sail; a confident lot out in their optimists — boats used for close- harbour training and sailing. Not very far off, their instructors are in a safety boat, keeping a watchful eye.
With the wind still set at a ho-hum pace, we lazily sail past the red-and-yellow Sunk Rock Lighthouse and several anchored yachts and boats. Across in the distance, we can see Elephanta, Alibaug, Uran and Mandwa. With nothing but a few scattered boats and a picture-perfect view of the sun casting a golden glow across the skyline, we're sailing in the lap of luxury—of time, space and serenity—a startling contrast to the bustling shores we left behind.
The sails catch the wind and soon we whizz by. I think nothing could make the evening more perfect when the boat caretaker, pointing towards the bow, excitedly shouts, “Look ahead, dolphin." Our eyes are peeled to the water at the magical words. I see nothing, but I'm hopeful. It's not that I've not seen dolphins before; just that I can't believe that they can be seen in their natural habitat right here in Mumbai. We sacrifice the leftover quiche and send it flying across the water. As it plonks into the water, out jumps a dolphin; it's not a mere surface-level jump, but completely out of the water, kind of stuff you see in the movies. The fact that there's no noisy motor to scare away the dolphins gives us the opportunity to spot several more—at least 10-15, some swimming alone, in pairs, or in a pod towards a dead-fish feast in the water. There are a whole lot of them near our boat. We hear them breathe every time they surface; it sounds like someone trying to clear a blocked nose. The fact that we're told that this is perhaps one of the largest dolphin sightings even for an avid sailor, makes it all the more special. With no specific route mapped out, we're free to follow them as much as we can until the sun begins to set, indicating it's time to head back to Gateway.
An orange-purplish glow fills the sky behind Mumbai's skyscrapers. As the sun disappears behind the silhouette of buildings and the twinkling lights of the Taj Mahal Palace come on, we make for shore. Before we know it, we're thrown back into the chaos of the buzzing city, back into the traffic, and into reality to brace the coming week.
