As I leave behind Coimbatore and its partly sunny skies, I am eager for the day ahead at Baralikadu, an eco-tourism getaway, located at 70 kilometres from the city. After a two-hour scenic drive, the reserve forest opens up a stunning view of river Bhavani, the heart of Baralikadu.

I enjoy my welcome drink, a refreshing sukku coffee made with dry ginger and jaggery, under a mighty banyan that overlooks the backwaters of Pilloor Dam, a critical drinking water lifeline for Coimbatore. In the next few minutes, I wear my life jacket, adjust my hat, and step into the coracle. Soon, we are gliding across the shimmering waters, inhaling crisp, pollution-free air and soaking up the silence.

What began in 2007 as a modest eco-tourism initiative in the Karamadai Forest Range has now evolved into one of Tamil Nadu’s most successful community-based conservation models. “The idea was simple,” says Joseph Stalin, Karamadai Forest Range Officer, adding, “If we wanted the forests to remain sustainable for future generations, we had to create alternative sources of income.”

The tribal communities, largely Irulas, were dependent on forests for a living. For generations, coracles were not a tourist attraction but a necessity for the indigenous communities, to cross the river and reach villages such as Poochamarathur. What takes barely 10 minutes by coracle would otherwise mean a 20-kilometre journey by road. “The Forest Department partnered with local communities to create an eco-tourism model with minimal impact on environment,” he explains, adding that tourists can enjoy a coracle ride, a hearty tribal-style lunch, dance along at a cultural performance, and round off the outing with a dip in the Bhavani. “Till now, eco-tourism has generated more than ₹7.5 crores in revenue while creating sustainable livelihoods for over 100 tribal families across 20 settlements,” explains Joseph.

At the heart of the experience are the coracle operators, like S Nanjan who has ferried visitors across the Bhavani for over 15 years. “We are a team of 20 members,” he says. “Each coracle takes four tourists for a 45-minute ride. Visitors relax, enjoy the scenery and ask endless questions about elephants, leopards and other wildlife.” As he rows, Nanjan points to locations inside the forest where elephant sightings are common at dusk. “Our elders made coracles using logs and coconut fronds. Later they used bamboo. Today, we use fibre coracles with modern safety features,” he says.

The rides operate through online bookings, primarily on weekends, with visitor numbers capped at 250 per day to minimise ecological impact. “We also take special requests for individual groups with a minium of 50 members during weekdays,” says Joseph. Responsible tourism remains central to the initiative. Plastic use is monitored, bathing with soap in the river is prohibited, and guests are informed about wildlife movement in the area. Across the river, visitors can also stay overnight at Poochamarathur Eco Stay, a basic accommodation run by the community. Many families in the hamlet earn between ₹25,000 and ₹30,000 a month through various tourism-related activities.

Over a sumptuous lunch of ragi kali and spinach gravy made with foraged greens, Thaiamma and Tamil Selvi of Thamarai Self-Help Group share how tourism changed everything. “Before 2007, there was hardly any income. We worked as daily labourers, Now we confidently interact with tourists,” says Thaiamma.

The menu often includes forest produce likekanthari or bird’s eye chillies, wild sweet potatoes, and greens. “We cook on firewood and grind masalas by hand on ammikal. Our biryani prepared with seasonal vegetables is a favourite among visitors,” says Tamilselvi.

For most visitors, the outing is immersive. TN Veeraraghavan from Bengaluru spent an entire day at Baralikadu. “The sukku coffee was a wonderful start,” he says. “I loved the swing beneath the giant banyan tree. The coracle ride was unforgettable.” For Mumbai-based visitor Anushka, the experience was an escape from city life. “For a Gen Z traveller like me, dipping my hand into an open stream and sitting in a coracle surrounded by forests was magical,” she says, adding, “I want to come back.”

As dusk settles over the forest, artistes from the community gather with traditional musical instruments including the porai, thavilu, jalra, and pogal. Songs echo through forest, of everyday life, weddings, farming, rivers, forests, and wildlife. “Our songs give a peek into how our elders lived,” says Raja from the cultural troupe. “Everything, from goats and rivers to food, birds, trees, and relationships, becomes a song. At night, our ancestors would gather and turn the day’s events into music.” Alongside him, dancers Sandhya and Selvi lead visitors through an energetic performance. “We want our culture to survive and reach the next generation,” adds Raja.

Nearly two decades after the first coracle ride, Baralikadu stands as an example of how conservation and livelihoods can go hand in hand. A brainchild of I Anwardeen, Principal Chief Conservator of Forests (Research and Education), Chennai, the Forest Department initially invested about ₹2 lakhs. Today, the project’s revenue funds tribal welfare, anti-poaching camps, and human-animal conflict mitigation measures. Water from the Pilloor Dam, once inaccessible to tribal hamlets, now supports agriculture. “The transformation also brought electricity to the settlements. When we came for inspection, villagers ferried us across the river in their coracles,” recalls Anwardeen. “The crossing was effortless. The landscape was breathtaking. Women carrying babies rowed the coracles with remarkable ease. That experience stayed. We became partners.”

As the sun goes behind the hills, I dip my feet in Bhavani and splash some cool water on my face, a perfect way to end my outing with Nature.

To know more, visit coimbatorewilderness.com