Chapter 1 – Calm Waters, Unsettled Secrets
The Indian Ocean was unusually calm that afternoon.
There were waves, but no playfulness in them—
as if the sea itself was waiting for something.
The sun stood directly overhead.
The ship’s clock struck exactly two in the afternoon.
This was not a regular maritime route.
Just a few miles away from the Andaman–Nicobar Islands lay a stretch of water where the ocean grew deeper—
and so did the questions.
A joint patrol vessel of the Indian Navy and Coast Guard was moving steadily along that route.
On the deck, a lookout stood frozen, binoculars pressed to his eyes, scanning the horizon.
Blue sky.
Blue sea.
Emptiness in every direction.
Then—
“Sir… I see something,”
the sailor said quietly, without lowering the binoculars.
His voice was calm, but cautious.
Junior Lieutenant Arun Khatri stepped forward at once.
“Give me the binoculars.”
The sailor handed them over.
Arun focused on the same direction.
For several seconds, he said nothing—just studied the water.
Then his voice tightened.
“…It looks real. Could be a small boat.”
He turned sharply toward the other end of the deck, where the Captain stood.
“Captain… you should see this yourself.”
The Captain walked forward and raised his binoculars.
Far away, on the blue surface of the sea, there was a faint disturbance—
the outline of something small, floating.
At first, it made no sense.
Then—a tiny black dot.
Rocking helplessly between the waves.
A boat.
“What is that? I can’t see clearly from this distance,” the Captain said slowly.
Based on his experience, the Junior Lieutenant guessed,
“Sir… possibly a fisherman, but—”
“But what?” the Captain asked, his tone sharp.
“Something feels off,” the Junior Lieutenant replied.
“The size of the boat, its color… and the man sitting on it. This doesn’t look like a normal fishing situation.”
The Captain kept his eyes on the horizon.
“Could he be a Sri Lankan national?” he said hesitantly.
“Drifted this far?”
Silence fell across the deck.
Every man stood with his own thoughts—
Who was this person?
And what was he doing so far from any known route?
The patrol vessel slowly moved closer.
The boat was tiny.
So small that its presence in the open sea felt like a question in itself.
“This isn’t a fishing route…” the Captain muttered.
“Any signal?”
“No, sir. Radio silence,” the Junior Lieutenant replied.
The ship’s speed was reduced.
All protocols activated.
This was no longer just a boat.
It could be a threat—
or a mystery the ocean had chosen to surface.
Through the binoculars, a figure was visible inside the boat.
A man.
Still.
As if he had become part of the vessel itself.
The Junior Lieutenant studied it again carefully.
After a moment, his voice grew tense.
“Sir… the boat has ‘ONGC’ written on it.”
Oil and Natural Gas Corporation.
A hush spread across the deck.
The Captain’s brows tightened.
“ONGC… alone?” he murmured.
Fear and suspicion crept into his voice.
The Junior Lieutenant turned back.
“Sir… I don’t understand this either. There’s no team. No support ship anywhere nearby.”
“ONGC doesn’t operate like this,” the Captain said slowly.
“Could this be terrorism?”
“Stay alert,” he ordered.
He raised a hand, signaling everyone on deck to freeze.
His voice remained calm—but firm.
“We’re within range.”
He adjusted his headset.
Every soldier took position behind his weapon.
The microphone came alive.
The voice was short, firm, commanding—
“This is the Indian Navy.
Attention, vessel ahead.
You are approaching Indian maritime territory.
Identify yourself immediately.”
No response.
Nothing.
The Captain’s eyes narrowed.
Without turning, he said—
“Repeat.”
The microphone echoed again.
Same words—but now, the meaning was lethal.
“This is the Indian Navy.
Attention, vessel ahead.
You are approaching Indian maritime territory.
Failure to comply will be treated as a security threat.”
Safety catches clicked off across the deck.
A sniper locked his aim from above.
The Captain issued the final order.
“Final warning.”
His voice was steel now.
“This is the Indian Navy.
Attention, vessel ahead.
If you are carrying any weapons—
throw them into the sea immediately.
Raise both hands above your head.
Any sudden movement will result in gunfire.”
The sea seemed to pause.
The man in the boat moved.
Slowly.
Carefully.
First, he showed his palms.
Then raised both hands fully.
No one lowered their weapon.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
The boat rocked gently in the waves.
The patrol ship slowed even further.
The deep rumble of its engine cut through the silence as it approached.
Up close, the boat looked worse.
Dry, cracked wood.
Water-soaked edges.
And the man inside—
Slumped shoulders.
A face burnt by the sun.
The Captain gestured.
“Boarding team. Prepare.
Lower the interceptor.”
Within moments, a small interceptor boat was released from the starboard side.
Its engine growled softly as it cut through the water.
Four armed soldiers aboard—
bulletproof vests, rifles tight against their chests.
The target remained locked.
The interceptor reached the boat.
“Don’t move,”
a soldier shouted.
The man stayed still.
Hands still raised.
Weak. Trembling.
One soldier jumped onto the boat.
Another followed.
They searched him thoroughly—
pockets, waist, neck, clothing.
No weapon.
Still—
Click.
Handcuffs snapped shut around his wrists.
The man didn’t resist.
He only looked at them with exhausted eyes.
“Name?” a soldier asked.
The man’s lips moved.
After a long pause, a voice emerged—
“Ashwin Kumar.”
The soldier glanced at the boat again.
ONGC.
He spoke into his headset—
“Sir… the boat is marked ONGC.
But the man is alone. Over.”
On the deck above, the Captain stiffened.
“Alone?”
ONGC doesn’t work alone,” he muttered.
The interceptor turned back.
The handcuffed man was lifted carefully.
He couldn’t walk.
Two soldiers supported him.
When he was brought onto the main deck—
guns surrounded him, eyes watched him—
but there was no sympathy.
A final report came through the radio.
“Suspect secured.
Boat belongs to ONGC, but the man was alone.
Doesn’t appear to be a terrorist.
Over.”.
Chapter 2 – The Briefing Room (Indian Coast Guard)
The suspect was brought aboard the ship and placed in a secure room.
His wrists were cuffed. Two armed guards stood inside, alert and watchful.
Across the steel table, a senior Coast Guard officer observed him without haste.
The room was brightly lit, yet there was no color on the man’s face.
Sunken eyes.
Cracked lips.
An unkempt beard.
The smell of saltwater and grime clung to his clothes.
He tried to sit upright, but his body did not cooperate.
The Captain studied him carefully—
as if he already understood much before asking a single question.
“Name?”
The voice was firm, not unnecessarily raised.
The man tried to move his lips.
The sound caught in his throat before emerging—
“A… Ashwin Kumar…”
His voice trembled. He coughed.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Without interrupting, the Captain asked the next question—
“Designation?”
The man swallowed, as if searching for saliva that wasn’t there.
“Chief… Geologist…”
He stopped.
His head dipped slightly—
as though speaking any further was beyond him.
Silence settled in the room for a few moments.
Behind him, the two armed guards remained steady.
Weapons lowered—eyes sharp.
The Captain noticed the details.
Trembling hands.
Dry fingers.
A vacant, lifeless gaze.
This was not an act.
This was hunger, thirst, and exhaustion.
The Captain turned to the officer standing behind him.
“Collect DNA samples and basic biometric details,” he said.
“Standard procedure.”
The officer nodded immediately.
“And call the doctor,”
the Captain ordered.
“Immediately.”
With that, he left the room.
Chapter 3 – Medical Bay
(Indian Coast Guard)
The suspect was brought aboard the ship and escorted into a secure briefing room.
His wrists were cuffed.
Two armed guards stood inside—alert, silent, watchful.
Across the steel table, a senior Coast Guard Captain observed him without haste.
The room was brightly lit, yet there was no color on the man’s face.
Sunken eyes.
Cracked lips.
An unkempt beard—
all signs of a man pushed far beyond his limits.
The smell of saltwater and grime clung to his clothes.
He tried to sit upright.
His body did not cooperate.
The Captain studied him carefully—not like an interrogator, but like someone who already knew more than he needed to ask.
“Name?”
The question was firm, unhurried.
As if time itself answered to him.”
The man tried to move his lips.
The sound caught in his throat before emerging.
“A… Ashwin Kumar…”
His voice trembled.
A cough followed.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
Without interrupting, the Captain continued.
“Designation?”
Ashwin swallowed, searching for saliva that wasn’t there.
“Chief… Geologist…”
The words came out uneven—
as though he wasn’t sure he still deserved the title.
His head dipped slightly.
Silence settled into the room.
Behind him, the two guards remained steady.
Weapons lowered.
Eyes sharp.
The Captain noticed everything.
The trembling hands.
The dry, cracked fingers.
The vacant gaze that wandered—not around the room, but somewhere far behind Ashwin’s eyes.
This was not an act.
This was hunger.
Thirst.
Exhaustion.
The Captain turned to the officer standing behind him.
“Collect DNA samples and basic biometric data,” he said.
“Standard procedure.”
The officer nodded immediately.
“And call the doctor,” the Captain added.
“Immediately.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room—
already convinced this man was not the threat.
But the warning.
Outside the Medical Bay
The senior officers stood in the corridor.
Arms crossed over their chests.
Faces stern.
The door opened.
The doctor stepped out.
The rank insignia on the captain’s uniform caught the light as he spoke in a controlled tone—
“Doctor… Ashwin Kumar’s condition?”
The doctor closed the report file.
Took a deep breath.
“Sir, his condition is not stable yet,” he said.
“He has been without water and food for at least three to four days.
Severe dehydration.
Electrolyte imbalance has already begun.
There’s pressure on the kidneys.”
The captain’s brows tightened.
“So what needs to be done now?”
“Controlled hydration,” the doctor replied.
“Fluids must be administered very slowly.
Giving too much at once could be dangerous.
Solid food is strictly prohibited for now.”
A brief silence followed.
Then the captain asked—
“So… interrogation isn’t possible yet?”
The doctor shook his head.
“No, sir.
It will take twenty-four to thirty-six hours for him to stabilize fully.
Any kind of mental or physical pressure before that would be unsafe.”
The captain gave a short order—
“Keep him under medical observation.
No questions.
Inform me the moment he stabilizes.”
“Yes, sir.”
The doctor gave a brief salute and returned inside.
Chapter 4 – The Captain’s Coast Guard Investigation
Soft light filled the bridge.
Waves struck the ship’s metal hull, creating a steady, echoing resonance.
The captain turned to his junior lieutenant.
“I need all data logs from this sector for the past month—navigation, GPS, AIS, emergency communications, weather reports, storm tracks, crew manifests, and onboard assignments.
Every detail. Now.”
“Understood, sir.”
The junior lieutenant immediately opened his tablet and got to work.
A few hours later, he returned with the report.
Over the past six months, four survey vessels had been recorded operating in the area.
ONGC 4421 was one of them—and its Chief Geologist was Ashwin Kumar.
The captain opened the file.
The pen in his fingers remained steady.
“Full details on ONGC 4421.”
The junior lieutenant began reading—
On November 4, 2018, the vessel departed from Port Blair.
On November 7, the primary survey began in the 14°N, 92°E East–West grid sector.
A support ship was positioned approximately fifteen nautical miles to the northwest, at 14°N, 91°E, for emergency response and communications.
The captain marked each data point carefully.
“Last known position of the survey boat?” he asked.
“November 8, 2018,” the junior lieutenant replied.
“14°N, 92°E. After that, the storm altered its course. The support ship attempted to track it, but the signal was lost.”
“Distance from the support ship?”
“Approximately fifteen nautical miles, sir.”
“And the support ship?”
“It crossed the 14°N, 91°E checkpoint and returned. The crew was safe, but no signal from the smaller survey boat was recovered.”
The captain’s eyes hardened.
“So—the smaller boat was isolated in the storm.
No backup available.”
The junior lieutenant displayed the GPS logs.
“According to the storm pattern, the boat drifted northeast.
The AIS signal disappeared completely for several hours.”
“Distress call?”
“November 8, 02:15 UTC.
The frequency was distorted. The signal was weak.
The support ship received the call, but due to the storm, immediate response was not possible.”
“AIS confirmation?”
“Yes, sir. The vessel was confirmed as ONGC-owned.
The crew manifest listed seven personnel—but only Ashwin Kumar has been found alive.”
The captain closed the file.
According to the weather report,
a storm was active between 14°N and 15°N latitude and 91°E to 93°E longitude on November 8–9.
Winds reached 35 knots, with waves up to four meters high.
The captain traced a finger across the chart.
“This explains how the boat drifted—and why it became separated.
It’s logical.”
Then the final question—
“Crew list?”
“Seven personnel—
Chief Geologist,
Geophysicist,
Marine Engineer,
Navigation Officer,
Drilling Engineer,
Government Liaison Officer,
and one crew member trained in medical and survival response.”
The captain exhaled slowly.
If Ashwin speaks, the full picture will emerge.
For now, all we have are the logs.
Silent Questions
The bridge was quiet again.
The report file had been closed.
Data, logs, tracks—everything was in place.
On paper, nothing was wrong.
And yet—
something didn’t feel right.
The ONGC support ship had been present.
The survey boat existed.
The crew list was complete.
And still—
twenty days ago, during the storm, seven people had vanished.
Six trained professionals had been swallowed by the sea.
And only one had returned.
The captain stood by the railing, staring at the ocean.
The ship vibrated faintly beneath his boots as waves struck the hull.
His mind was tangled in questions.
If there had been a storm—
why wasn’t the boat completely destroyed?
If a distress call had been received—
under what exact conditions had contact been lost?
And the biggest question—
where had the six gone?
The sea could consume many things.
But like this…
without leaving a trace?
The captain opened the file again.
One page carried a single name—
Ashwin Kumar
There were no remarks beneath it.
Not yet.
Ashwin’s story was still waiting to be heard.
And the captain knew—
when he spoke,
this would no longer be just a case of a missing survey boat.
It would also be the story of those six people—
missing at sea for twenty days.
The captain picked up the intercom.
“Inform me the moment there’s an update from the medical bay.”
His voice was flat.
Firm.
The interrogation had not begun yet.
The real questions had not been asked.
But one thing was certain—
when Ashwin spoke,
the truth would either bring everything into focus…
or drag this mystery even deeper.
This story continues.
The complete novel is available on Amazon Kindle.
Search: The Unknown Island – An Unspoken Truth by Rajan Rajput
