We take a photo together and he invites me to his house for chai

As he ushers me in, I’m introduced to his father, the head of china wholesale garden umbrellas the Dargah at Bankot. We have 13 more days to go. An undaunted Shivaji raged on and lost many men to sea. There’s only one problem. The sun is never kind in a Maharashtrian summer, but on the water, the sea around me amplifies it. I spot the sea entering a bay, but I can’t remember it on a map. I see a narrow stretch of beach and make for it. We’ve completed 90 km in three days with 14 hours of sleep, and today I’ll push that to 120 km when I hit the picturesque beach of Harihareshwar. He tells me the story of how Shivaji Maharaj once passed through Bankot during his naval assault on Murud Janjira. Also, I haven’t slept much. He returned to Bankot for blessings.The sun is never kind in a Maharashtrian summer, but on the water, the sea around me amplifies it. We take a photo together and he invites me to his house for chai. He explains that I’ve landed in Bankot, and I’m lucky to have missed the beaches up ahead that swallow swimmers whole. He’s baffled further when he spots my ‘huge’ kayak. It’s Day 4 of my 17-day solo kayaking expedition from Mumbai to Goa. And I’m coming down with a fever. Needless to say, he was victorious in his second attempt. And I’m left grappling with where I am.As I make my way towards it, my dad tells me he’ll find me on land. I have two options, to cross the bay I find myself in, or go back and find Harihareshwar. It’s the first time an Indian has attempted this, but things are not going according to the plan. I must have waited 10 minutes in the sobering heat, when Shadab comes down from the hillock and introduces himself.Typically, I plot my route out on my GPS watch. A delay in the import of my kayak has resulted in setting off in the brutal heat of March. The good Baba took me up to the Dargah. With the help of his son Shadab and his brother, he donned his regal attire and blessed me on my own sea voyage. Suddenly, it all made sense. I decide to head for the bank on the other side. We decide to take a rest day, as Shivaji did. He has kayaked the 3,000km west coast of India solo). But somewhere after 30 km, my watch dies. As we sit there having chai and rusk, he tells me how he spent a large part of his life in Bombay, until he was chosen to come here and take up the role of the Baba.(Kaustubh Khade is an IITian, Asian Silver Medalist in kayaking & a Limca Book Record holder. I crash-land on the barren white beach, half naked and completely exhausted. He’s baffled anyone would want to paddle solo from Bombay to Goa, with no motor or sail. The then Baba of Bankot warned Shivaji to stay.He explains that I’ve landed in Bankot, and I’m lucky to have missed the beaches up ahead that swallow swimmers whole. I don’t know where it is.

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