CROSSCURRENTS
Amongst footloose workers
Reminiscences from a visit to Alang about 10 years back
SOMNATH BANDHYOPADHYAY
still remember the sharp chill that
I went down my spine when I first set
my gaze upon Alang one spring
afternoon in 1996. From my elevation at
the north end of the shipyard, I could
see about hundred vessels, or what
remained of them, gently lapped by the
rising tidal waters of the Gulf of
Khambhat. The waters could rise and
fall by as much as 12 meters in almost as
many hours. It was this tidal amplitude,
along with a gently sloping flat rocky
shoreline that prompted entrepreneurs,
mostly based in Bombay (it was still not
Mumbai), to snatch away a lucrative
global business proposition from
Taiwan’s shores.
What began as a small operation in
the early 1990s quickly grew to attract a
male workforce of 30–60,000 from east-
ern Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and Orissa, on
a seasonal basis depending upon the
harvests (or lack of it). Able-bodied
men earned Rs 2,000–2,500 per month,
while those who could operate the
crude, LPG-based cutting system earned
double that. These were princely sums
compared to what they could earn from
the land back home.
But the downside was also substan-
tial. A dozen men shared a shack, con-
structed crudely with wooden planks
dismantled from the ships. The sea pro-
vided for toilet and bath. Food and sex
were available for a price, but medical,
fire and police services were absent.
These were badly needed: there were
unconfirmed reports of 2 to 5 deaths
due to accidents per week on an average.
These, however, had nothing to do
with my maiden visit to Alang. I was
there to address the environmental con-
cerns, apparently raised in the parlia-
ment. The Gujarat government was nat-
50 Down To Earth • March 15, 2006
urally concerned because Alang ensured
an about Rs 250 crores annually to the
state exchequer, which could rise fur-
ther. The Gujarat Maritime Board
(GMB) — custodians for the Alang-
Sosiya ship-breaking yard — sought the
assistance of another state agency, the
Gujarat Ecology Commission (GEC).
As I, a young ecologist from GEC
(fresh out of university), and the chief
engineer of GMB ( a few months away
from retirement) walked along the
Alang coast, we could not but be over-
whelmed with the enormity of the tasks.
My colleague explained that we had the
mandate to do all that was required to
comply with the environment protec-
tion laws and save the industry.
But with very little scientific litera-
ture on the matter, I did not have an
In 1996, workers at Alang
had no safety gears.
Most have this security now
idea of where to begin and therefore cre-
ated separate research teams to study
almost all conceivable angles. The socio-
economic studies focused on the resi-
dent population, the migrant workers
and the entrepreneurs (including those
in ancillary industries).
The findings were astounding. Few
living creatures were adapted to with-
stand conditions of such high tidal
amplitude and even those assemblages
were found to be normal just a kilome-
tre away from the ship-breaking zone —
both to the north and south. So, unless
they were physically trampled upon, the
effects of pollution were not evident.
But, as mentioned initially, the socio-
economic studies were a revelation.
When we sat down to synthesise our
findings and make recommendations,
we faced a strange dilemma. On the one
hand, we were to highlight environmen-
tal problems that didn’t really exist and
deal with technological options that
didn’t really make sense. On the other
hand, there were real issues related to
living and working conditions that
needed regulation and investment on
infrastructure, but that was definitely
not the issue uppermost in the minds of
policymakers them. In consultation
with our advisors, — one of whom
described ship breaking as a footloose
industry — we decided to bite the bullet
in favour of realism.
I chanced upon Alang again in 2000,
this time on a separate project. Our jeep
drove down a wide metal road with
streetlights that actually lit up. A siren
went off and thousands of workers
stepped out from the yards, all with hel-
mets, boots and gloves. They worked to
eight hour shifts now. Casualties had
dropped drastically. But business, I was
told, was not really as booming.
“Footloose industry” it was, I thought,
and thanked God we didn’t waste
money on so-called “environment pro-
tection” measures. n
The author was formerly senior ecologist
with the Gujarat Ecology Commission.
The views expressed here are his alone