A tale of two lakes

by Capt Elmo Jayawardena

Bolgoda we all know and Upper Bolgoda too is now coming to the dance floor after being in Rip Van Winkle mode for many centuries.

The two lakes are beautiful; Bolgoda being the better known is now lined along the banks with beautiful houses, most of the land sold by the “big or small” people at astronomical profits. Upper Bolgoda is still serene, sparsely populated and sleeping. The two beautiful lakes are joined by a waterway that chisels between St. Lucia’s Island and the more prominent Ruskin Island where the silhouettes jut out to the cobalt sky of the new riverside homes that are being built.

The water lane curves around this settlement and goes to join Upper Bolgoda flowing between beautiful green kaduru hedges on either side that carry creeper tenants dotted with multicoloured wildflowers. Solitary coconut trees stand at intervals like sentinels and lily-white egrets perch on gnarled old trunks that would have once been young and lush with leaves. The ancient thotupol still hold fort, Kahapola, Hirana and Rukkana where thotiya Captains take people across in their flat bottom crafts pulled by ropes. (make sure your children see the show before the palam paru and the thotiya disappear)

A few miles down is the new bridge to reach Bandaragama from Panadura and beyond another fair distance is Upper Bolgoda, vast and untouched, majestic and inviting.That is the geography, now here comes the madness. These days it is difficult for me to get to Huckleberry Finn mode, the gray beard and the gray hair and the chronological age makes home people object and object strong. But I manage to slip, promising the moon and the whole Milky Way in return for the river trip permission.

The journey is nice, launch from my home in Koralawella and then head to Bolgoda and join the water way to go south and reach Upper Bolgoda. From there to row across the big lake and find an “ela” that will lead me to Wadduwa and the Thalpitiya Bridge where the journey ends. I get picked up by my friend and return home with my faithful canoe Solitaire packed in a double cab.

We took off at six, Solitaire and me and spent nearly eight hours rowing, mostly in the scorching sun so much so that I got burnt and the skin peeled for days and I looked more like Lazarus from the New Testament. Now I know why those cricketers wear war paint on their faces. As for the trip, it certainly was no lozenge ride. You hardly see anyone, it is lonely and lovely. You pass fishermen throwing nets or patiently baiting fish who welcome a few words to break the monotony. Mostly the ride is slow, there’s time to think, and it is a soul-searching retreat away from it all, not stolen minutes, but stretching to hours of tranquillity. I had a few water breaks and a nice long rest under a shady tree for my sandwich lunch and the rest was all rowing in rhythm to keep the boat moving.

Things have changed here from the last time I came. That was ten years ago. There is a big bridge built and the palam paruwa would become obsolete. The thotiya there, Wickrema, I have met before and I stopped and asked and was sad to hear he is no more, gone paddling beyond, like all of us will do. Like my departed friend Wickrema, nature too had taken a beating here, the flower carpets of manel and nelum have dwindled, still present, more in river tokenism than in their usual abundance. The birds are still around, korawakko on the water’s edge and the gembi seru (small Grebes) flapping their little wings when they see me approach and make that “run on water” take off which technically would defy the best of aeronautics that is written in the books.

There still remains the beauty in the tale of the two lakes. It is a place to learn and respect nature, a theatre of peace and quiet filled with spectacular visions of untouched habitat. How grateful I am for having all this for nothing, just an effort and a pack of sandwiches and a mini scolding from the family tree for forgetting how old I am. But I enjoy the twin beauties of the lakes.

Maybe not for long and as all good things in life, this too is vanishing slowly, losing its long-suffering battle to stay undisturbed. What I saw are the remnants of the original and that would soon be blown by the winds of time. Better go now my friend, if none comes along, go alone, get a canoe and row, if you don’t know how, look for me and I will wise you. No charge, just to share the beauty I have seen; that is good enough reason. The two water ladies are there, sorrowfully shedding their magnificence to the so-called progress and yet waiting to welcome people who will solemnly enjoy and sing their praises and leave without soiling the souls of Bolgoda and Upper Bolgoda.

If not anything else, we certainly owe that much. Elmojay1@gmail.com