Usually held during the Onam season, the races unite the competitive spirit of the Keralites with their inborn love for the water. The boat itself is a work of art. Aptly named the ‘snake boat’ or ‘chundan’, the graceful black wooden are up to 100 feet in length and can accommodate about 100 to 150 people. Both ends of the snake boat curve out of the water. Like the neck of an angry cobra, the stern of the boat curves up to a height of 15 to 20 feet. The pointed prow with its brass embellishments stands about 4 feet above the water.

The snake boats have served as chariots for kings and as mounts for pirates. Today however, they live in stylish boat pageants and the ever popular boat race. At Aranmula on the Pamba river, at Papiyad near Quilon, at Thayathangadi near Kottayam, the boats take to the water, carrying with them the hopes and dreams of illustrious families, business concerns, clubs and villages. More than the prizes to be won, it’s a matter of pride and personal honor to win the race.

Boat race crews begin to practice for the race months before the great day. They live together, eat together, toil together to organize themselves into a coordinated team. After each practice run, onlookers thoughtfully appraise each team, before placing precious bets. Two days before the race, all practice runs cease and the tension builds.

Race day dawns early. The boats are slicked with a special oil to make them glide effortlessly through the water. Before the eyes of thousands of enthralled onlookers who line the banks, a splendid procession unfolds. Different types of ‘Kali vallangal’ or racing boats decked in colorful flags and garlands slide through the waters, led by the most magnificent of them all – the Chundan vallom. After invoking the presence of the ancient gods, the boats take their places at the starting line. The crowd has already begun its celebration – sounds of incessant drumming, whistling and the haunting strains of the ‘vanjipattu’, boat-songs float across the waters.

There is a split second of silent stillness as the starter drops the flag. And then all the breaths that were held burst forth into one massive roar as the snake boats leap forward. The race is on. The still, languid waters explode into sparkling diamonds as the oars flash in and out in perfect unison. Muscles strain as the oarsmen urge their boats forward, egged on by the roar of the crowd on the shore and the frenzied rhythm of the pace setters in the boats. And then with a final burst of power, one boat draws ahead of the rest and surges across the finish line. The crowd roars, cymbals clash, oars slacken and the boats slow down – the race is over. 

Prizes are given away, bets are paid up and collected and the festive crowds start to disperse. And the waters resume their silent vigil, waiting for next year when the snake boats will ride again.