The Sundarbans is not just a forest; it is a living, breathing mystery where the tide dictates life and death. Recently, I had the rare opportunity to be a “Night Guest” on a traditional fishing boat at the confluence of Dattapashur and Andharmanik.

​It was late autumn (Hemanta), and the chill from the river was biting. We were anchored at the mouth of a canal, tied alongside other fishing boats. Under the light of a waxing moon, the wilderness felt both beautiful and terrifying.

​Beyond the Books: The ‘Sahajpath’ of the Bada

​For those who live in the city, the Sundarbans is a collection of statistics and maps. But for the forest-dwellers, it is their ‘Bada’ (homeland). Sitting on the deck with a flickering kerosene lamp, I listened to stories of the jungle over cups of hot tea.

​There were no electric lights here—only the dance of shadows on the water and the rhythmic sound of fish jumping in the dark. These men, who have spent their lives navigating these saline waters, have a patience that is rare. To truly understand the forest, one must learn their “Sahajpath” (simple lessons) under a canopy of a thousand stars.

​In the Shadow of the Royal Bengal Tiger

​The area we were anchored in is notorious. In the Sundarbans, it is a common belief that wherever nets are cast, the tiger is watching. Within a few hundred meters of our position, we spotted three ‘Jhamti’ marks—vivid reminders of spots where tigers have successfully hunted humans in the past.

​As night deepened, the atmosphere grew heavy. Every boat had a designated ‘Chowki’ (watchman). In these parts, tigers are known to silently board boats under the cover of darkness to snatch their prey. Silence in the Sundarbans is never empty; it is a cloak for a predator’s movements.

​The Midnight Visitor: A Close Encounter

​Around midnight, a thick fog began to roll in, turning the world into a ghostly white void. Suddenly, a splash echoed near the muddy bank. I flashed my torch, but only a ripple was visible on the surface.

​”Every step, every sound in this forest must be interpreted correctly. A mistake here can be fatal.”

​Just as Sanatan Da (name changed) was getting ready for his watch, the bushes behind us rustled violently. I swung my beam toward the sound. Two glowing, amber eyes stared back. It wasn’t a tiger, but a massive Saltwater Crocodile.

​It was circling our boat, barely five feet from the stern. Sanatan Da, who had once survived a crocodile’s attack on his boat years ago, alerted the other crews. Names like Rahim and Sujan (names changed) echoed through the fog as the fishermen shouted to stay alert. The crocodile eventually dove back into the olive-green depths with a heavy thud, leaving us in a state of high alert.

​Dawn on the Delta

​Sleep was impossible after that. I spent the rest of the night watching the fog-heavy sky until the first light of dawn broke. As the tide rose, our boat untied from the fishing fleet to head deeper into the forest.

The fishermen stayed behind to continue their battle for survival, while we moved forward, carrying with us the haunting memory of a night where we were merely guests in a world ruled by ancient predators.

Key Takeaways for Your Visit to Sundarbans:

• ​Respect the Local Knowledge: The fishermen know the forest better than any guide.
• ​Stay Alert: Nighttime in the mangroves requires 360-degree awareness.
• ​Pack for the Chill: River winds in late autumn are surprisingly cold.