An aerial view of a Lakshadweep island from a passenger flight – a perspective that has only become common for islanders in the past few decades.
“It will take about a month,” the craftsman said, eyeing the wooden odam bobbing gently in the harbour. “If the winds are kind.”
That was 1960. Getting to Lakshadweep wasn’t just difficult, it was a gamble with nature. Wooden boats, hand-built by island craftsmen, would attempt the journey only when monsoons permitted, when stars aligned, when winds cooperated. A trip that today’s tourists complain takes 14 hours could stretch into weeks.
For centuries, odams, traditional sewn-plank boats, were the islanders’ only link to the outside world. These handcrafted vessels, held together by coir ropes instead of nails, relied on wind and current knowledge passed through generations. As Lotika Varadarajan noted in her study on sewn boats in India, the Lakshadweep odam was not just a mode of transport but embodiment of a sophisticated maritime tradition that thrived long before modern connectivity arrived. Sailors charted routes using oral rutters, navigating between Lakshadweep, Kerala, and even Arabia until the 1970s, when mechanized ships finally took over. Another major milestone in Lakshadweep’s connectivity came in 1988 with the opening of the Agatti airport, finally giving islanders their first air link to the mainland.
The reconstructed Valiya Odam ‘Chetlat’ – one of the last surviving specimens of Lakshadweep’s traditional sewn-plank boats. Built without nails and held together by coir ropes, these vessels embody centuries of maritime knowledge and formed the backbone of Lakshadweep’s seafaring traditions before the arrival of mechanized ships. (PC: Lotika Varadarajan, “Odam – the quintessential sewn boat of India”, Archaeonautica, 20 | 2018)
Fast forward to 2024. The morning Alliance Air flight from Kochi touches down at Agatti’s airstrip: a narrow runway where sea meets land. Passengers clutch their entry permits, already planning their boat connections to other islands. IndiGo and Fly91 have joined the route too, adding more seats but not necessarily making them cheaper or easier to book.
An Alliance Air ATR aircraft at Agatti’s unique runway, where sea meets land – a sight unimaginable before 1988 when the airport first opened, marking Lakshadweep’s entry into the aviation age.
But this is just the latest chapter in Lakshadweep’s remarkable transport story.
1970 was the real game-changer. MV Amindivi, a sturdy all-weather ship, broke the islands’ centuries-old isolation. For the first time, islanders could count on year-round connection to the mainland. No more monsoon cut-offs. No more medical emergencies with no way out. The ship’s arrival marked the beginning of modern Lakshadweep. Around a decade later, MV Bharatseema joined the fleet, further strengthening the maritime lifeline between the islands and mainland.
MV Amindivi (1970) – The ship that revolutionized island transport by providing the first year-round connection to mainland India.
By 2020, six passenger ships plied these waters, connecting to Beypore, Mangalore, and Kochi. During fair weather, that is. Come monsoon, and the network would shrink to just Kochi, a lifeline that couldn’t be severed. For emergencies, helicopters waited on standby, expensive but essential backups when storms made ships too risky.
Today’s options are a mixed bag. The ships have actually reduced in number when needs have been highest. MV Kavaratti, MV Arabian Sea, and MV Lakshadweep Sea soldier on, along with MV Corals and MV Lagoons, but most are often unavailable at different times of the year and now mostly only connect Kochi. However, when they do sail, they certainly are more reliable and better equipped. Book a month or so in advance through the administration’s byzantine system, and you might just get a cabin. Show up at the last minute? Good luck finding even a deck seat.
What cannot be denied though is that the progress in improving connectivity has certainly been steady, if slow. Though considered impressively large for its time, Bharatseema – which served the islands until 2016 before being transferred to the Andamans – would look almost modest next to today’s MV Arabian Sea, even though the latter is among the smaller vessels in the current Lakshadweep fleet. However, the supply continues to far exceed the demand.
Then and now: MV Bharatseema (left) was considered large for its time but appears modest compared to MV Arabian Sea (right), which despite being among the smaller vessels in today’s fleet, showcases how far maritime transport has evolved.
Flying seems easier on paper. Agatti’s airport, a marvel of engineering squeezed onto a tiny coral island, handles daily flights. When they fly, that is. One wrong weather report, one strong tail wind, and your flight could return to Kochi without landing. Your hotel booking on the island won’t care about that.
The cruel irony? As mainland Indians discover these islands’ pristine beauty, reaching them hasn’t necessarily gotten easier. Sure, a journey that once took a month now takes hours. But try booking a ticket during peak season. Or getting a permit during tourist rush. Paradise, it turns out, has a waitlist.
The daily scene at Kochi’s Lakshadweep ship boarding terminal, where passengers queue up to board their berths on MV Arabian Sea and other vessels. Despite modern connectivity options, the rush for ship tickets remains as intense as ever.
For the 70,000-odd islanders though, while today’s troubles pale compared to the past, the reality is more complicated than ever. Yes, there are more ships now, but again, good luck figuring out when they will actually sail. Maintenance schedules pop up without warning. Mechanical issues ground vessels for weeks. The ships might be newer, but their availability feels as unpredictable as the old odam days. Getting a ticket often means camping at booking offices or calling in every favour you know. Thank heavens for the increased flight options, locals say, even if they cost an arm and a leg. A medical emergency no longer means waiting weeks for a boat. Students can reach mainland colleges without missing semester starts.
A port office notice board displaying the complex web of ship schedules and booking slots that passengers must navigate.
The latest twist in this transport tale is the sudden surge of cruise tourism. Since 2022, luxury liners like Cordelia Cruises have begun dropping anchor in these pristine waters, part of the government’s aggressive push to put Lakshadweep on the global tourism map. While these floating hotels bring in tourists by the hundreds, they are a far cry from the transport worries of regular islanders.
A Cordelia cruise ship in Lakshadweep waters – the latest chapter in the islands’ transport story, bringing hundreds of tourists but far removed from local travel needs.
Old-timers still talk about the odam days. They will tell you about month-long journeys, about reading weather in ways no modern forecast can match, about the silence of waiting for news from islands cut off by storms. They will tell you things are better now.
The familiar sight of passengers boarding a ship at a Lakshadweep jetty – a reminder that despite all progress, sea transport remains the islands’ primary lifeline.
But as you stand in line for your permit, juggle flight bookings with boat schedules, and pray to weather gods, you realize something hasn’t changed: Lakshadweep still makes you earn your visit. Maybe that’s why it remains paradise.
Just remember to book way in advance.