Over a week on, a Kerala mother’s agonising wait for her son who went missing at sea continues

The damp earth in front of Reshma’s house in Puthanthura holds two fresh burial mounds, brightened only by the vivid yellow of marigold flowers. Beneath them lie her 76-year-old father, Rajeevan, and her 48-year-old husband Radhakrishnan — two lives claimed by the sea in the same morning. As she stands between the graves, her eyes remain fixed on the horizon, waiting for news of her missing 26-year-old son, Gautam.

Their boat ‘Miomi’ had capsized near Neendakara on the morning of July 31, just metres from the shore. While her father died on the spot and her husband’s body was recovered the following day, Gautam remains lost to the waves, leaving the remaining family members in an agonising uncertainty.

The trauma of the loss is deepened by the harrowing knowledge that the disaster unfolded within sight of land, where a swift response could have saved lives. When the vessel turned over, local fishers rushed to the scene and managed to rescue 11 crew members, but official intervention faltered immediately.

“Officers who eventually arrived were so severely seasick that our people had to bring them back to shore. Though a Coast Guard helicopter was eventually deployed, it operated under a restrictive fuel capacity that severely limited search operation,” says Reshma, who adds that the realisation that those dispatched to save her family lacked basic swimming expertise and operational readiness turned the accident into a prolonged nightmare.

“Though one of his hands was impaired, my father, a seasoned fisher, spent his very last strength using his good arm to try to save his grandson, ultimately losing his life at sea,” she says.

‘Lost faith’

Desperation eventually forced the grieving mother onto the streets. On August 6, six days after the tragedy, Reshma staged a sit-in protest in front of the Coastal police station at Neendakara, demanding that the search for her son be intensified and that the Navy be deployed. It was only after media coverage of her solitary protest reached the public that State machinery finally stirred into action. “I have completely lost faith in the State’s rescue mechanisms. The government treats the lives of traditional fishers as expendable, leaving families like ours to bear the crushing, irreplaceable cost of their systemic neglect,” she says.

Beyond the physical loss, it is the callous administrative reaction that has broken Reshma completely. Despite the tragedy occurring near the coast, top State leadership remained largely absent, with only Forest Minister Shibu Baby John making an exception. “The Fisheries Minister didn’t bother to call until a full week later, and only after the media started covering my protest,” she says. What wounded her most, however, was the response from a female official who casually informed her that advanced resources would have been deployed earlier had Reshma explicitly demanded them from the outset.

“Expecting a traumatised woman who had just lost her father and husband to navigate official protocols and request specific assets was too much. To the authorities, traditional fishers are hailed as heroic rescuers when flooding strikes inland, only to be reduced to invisible, marginalised casualties when disaster hits their own waters,” she adds.