Chapter 20 – Back to Port Blair

Treasure Hunter: The Seventh Tide of Andaman

Chapter 20 – Back to Port Blair

S ometimes the journey back feels longer—
because you’re no longer the same person returning.

🌆 Port Blair

Neil Island faded slowly behind us.

Small.
Green.
Quiet.

As if nothing unusual had ever happened there.

But we knew better.

⛴️ Return Ferry

The jetty was crowded by noon.

Tourists dragging luggage.
Families checking tickets repeatedly.
Children excited about window seats.

Ordinary travel chaos.

Strangely comforting.

After two days of clues, symbols, hidden messages, and stolen diaries—
normal people felt unreal.

🎟️ Boarding Again

“Ticket ready rakhben,” ferry staff repeated.

Subho Kaku already holding everyone’s tickets like national documents.

“Discipline lage,” he declared proudly.

Honestly—
without him—
half our logistics would collapse.

🪑 Seating Arrangement

This time—
slightly different.

Window — Ishani Di
Beside her — Arindam Da

Across aisle:
Window — Me
Beside me — Subho Kaku

And for the first time since the trip began—
nobody argued about seats.

Too tired mentally.

🌊 The Sea Feels Different Now

The ferry pulled away slowly.

Water cutting white lines behind us.

Neil Island shrinking further.

And I realized something.

When we arrived there—
it felt peaceful.

Now—
it felt like we were leaving unfinished answers behind.

😄 Rit Being Rit (Trying)

“Okay,” I sighed dramatically.

“Official status update.”

“We came to Andaman for vacation…”

“Now we’re decoding erased colonial history while being chased by backpack uncle.”

Subho Kaku nodded thoughtfully.

“Bhalo content peye gecho.”

Fair point.

🧠 Arindam Da Stays Focused

He barely reacted.

Notebook open again.

Mapping.
Calculating.
Connecting timelines.

I watched him quietly for a while.

That ability—
to stay calm inside chaos—

I admired it more than I admitted.

❤️ Ishani Di Notices Him

Ishani Di looked at him too.

Noticed the same thing.

“You haven’t rested properly in two days,” she said softly.

“I’m fine.”

Classic Arindam Da response.

She frowned slightly.

“That’s not an answer.”

For once—
he looked up immediately.

And something softened in his expression.

Tiny.
But real.

“I’ll rest after we finish this.”

That line carried more weight than he intended.

Because all of us understood—

He was already emotionally inside the mystery now.

🌧️ Mid-Sea Silence

Halfway through the journey—
rain appeared suddenly.

Not storm.

Just soft Andaman rain.

Grey clouds covering the sea slowly.

Waves became rougher.

The ferry tilted harder.

And instantly—
panic activated among tourists.

A child started crying nearby.
Someone grabbed the armrest dramatically.
A man closed his eyes and started chanting prayers softly.

And behind me—

“Bag ta dhoro!”

Subho Kaku clutching snacks protectively.

Priorities again.

🌊 The Rough Water

The ferry hit a larger wave.

THUD.

Whole cabin shook slightly.

One woman rushed toward the washroom.

“Dada…” I muttered.

“I don’t like this.”

“You survived yesterday,” Arindam Da replied calmly.

“Emotionally maybe not.”

Even Ishani Di laughed softly.

And somehow—
that steadied me.

👁️ The Watcher Appears Again

Then—
I saw him.

Three rows ahead.

Black backpack.

Cap lowered.

Facing toward the window.

Still.

My pulse spiked instantly.

“Dada.”

Arindam Da followed my gaze carefully.

One glance.

Enough.

This time—
even Ishani Di saw him immediately.

No doubt anymore.

🧠 The Problem

“He boarded from Neil,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Arindam Da said quietly.

“He’s staying close intentionally now.”

“Should we confront him?” I asked.

“No.”

Immediate answer.

“Why not?”

“Because we still know nothing about him.”

Fair.
Frustrating.
But fair.

❤️ Protective Silence

The ferry tilted again.

Instinctively—
Ishani Di grabbed the edge of the seat.

And without a word—
Arindam Da’s hand moved lightly over hers.

Not dramatic.

Just grounding.

Steady.

She looked at him for one quiet second.

Didn’t move her hand away immediately.

Neither did he.

And suddenly—
amid rough seas and growing danger—
that tiny human moment felt incredibly important.

🌊 Arrival at Port Blair

Around late afternoon—
Port Blair reappeared slowly through misty rain.

Buildings.
Harbor.
Movement.
Civilization again.

Relief should have come.

It didn’t.

Because now—
Port Blair no longer felt like the beginning.

It felt like the center.

🚗 Return Journey Through Town

Our vehicle from Andaman Kartik was already waiting.

Driver Binod smiled.

“Journey bhalo holo?”

All four of us looked at each other silently.

“Interesting,” I answered finally.

Very accurate word.

🌆 Port Blair Feels Different Now

The roads looked familiar now.

Aberdeen Bazaar.
Small shops.
Scooters.
Sea appearing between buildings.

But now—
every location felt layered.

Like history was sitting quietly beneath everything.

🏨 Return to the Hotel

Hotel Rhishabh

Back to the same hotel.

Same lobby.
Same welcome smile.

And yet—
we had changed completely.

🧠 The Next Step

Inside the room—
Arindam Da finally said it clearly.

“Tomorrow changes everything.”

I looked up.

“How?”

“We stop following hidden clues.”

A pause.

“We start checking official history.”

⚡ The Museum Plan

Samudrika Museum.
Archives.
Records.

And most importantly—
Ross Island references.

The name returned again.

Like the route was pulling us there slowly.

👁️ One Last Look

Before sleeping—
I looked outside the hotel window.

Rain falling softly across Port Blair.

Streetlights blurred.

And across the road—
for one brief second—

A silhouette stood beneath a tree.

Still.

Watching.

Then lightning flashed.

And he was gone.

🔚 End Hook

That night—
I understood something clearly.

We were no longer chasing clues.

The clues were leading us somewhere specific.

Toward records.
Toward erased names.
Toward hidden transfers.

And now—
toward the one place everyone kept circling back to.

Ross Island.

Because somewhere inside the ruins of British Andaman—

history was waiting to speak again.

❄️ To Be Continued…