15-05-2025
Ghazi wreck in Visakhapatnam echoes amid India-Pakistan tensions
On the night of December 3, 1971, Visakhapatnam was wrapped in a wartime blackout. The eastern naval port, already on high alert amid rising tensions with Pakistan in the wake of the battle for the liberation of East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), had dimmed its lights and quieted its streets. Along the coast, families huddled indoors, familiar by now with the shrill warning of sirens.
Cloaked by darkness at sea, Pakistan submarine, PNS Ghazi, crept through the waters of the Bay of Bengal with a singular mission: to sink India's prized aircraft carrier, INS Vikrant, which it believed was anchored in the harbour.
It was past dinner time in Dondaparthy when history enthusiast Vijjeswarapu Edward Paul heard a muffled but powerful sound, jolting the silence of the Port City. 'It felt like an earthquake. We were terrified. Rumours spread like wildfire that war had broken out,' he recalls.
That same night, hundreds across Visakhapatnam were left bewildered by the mysterious blast. Noel Thomas, a member of the Anglo-Indian community and a native of the city, was posted in Bhopal at the time. 'My friends back home spoke of a massive explosion near the harbour, but no one knew what had happened and where. Radio was our only lifeline to information, and for days, there was just silence,' says Noel. The mystery was finally unravelled a few days later when All India Radio announced that PNS Ghazi had exploded and sunk off the coast of Visakhapatnam during a covert operation.
What unfolded that night on December 4, 1971, would go on to shape not just the history of Visakhapatnam but also redefine India's naval might. The sinking of PNS Ghazi during the 1971 Indo-Pak war remains a pivotal moment in the maritime history of the subcontinent. The incident that happened off the eastern coast of Visakhapatnam is seen as a symbol of strategic dominance at sea. Today, as India and Pakistan continue to navigate a complex relationship marked by diplomatic tensions and regional security challenges, the Ghazi incident serves as a reminder of how maritime strength can shape national narratives.
The recent military conflict between India and Pakistan has stirred conversations across Visakhapatnam, bringing back memories buried deep in collective consciousness.
For many residents, especially those with a long-standing connection to the city's maritime and naval history, the current tensions bring back the echoes of the 1971 war and of a submarine whose silent story rests beneath the sands of time.
A walk along Beach Road leads to Visakha Museum, where a dome and metal parts of PNS Ghazi rest at the maritime section. Torn and battered, the remnant of its outer hull remains displayed as a war trophy and a stark reminder of a decisive moment in naval history.
'In 1971, the danger felt much closer, more intimate,' recalls 79-year-old V Kameshwar Rao, who was a young boy in Visakhapatnam during the war. 'When news came that a Pakistani submarine had been sunk just off our coast, it felt like the war had touched our shoreline.'
The sinking of Ghazi
The events leading up to the sinking of PNS Ghazi remain shrouded in mystery with debated accounts. The Indian Navy stated that the submarine was lured by misinformation about INS Vikrant's position and subsequently destroyed by depth charges from the Indian destroyer INS Rajput on the night of December 3, 1971.
Vice Admiral Nilakanta Krishnan, one of India's astute naval minds, led the Eastern Naval Command during the 1971 war with a mix of calm foresight and audacious improvisation. In his memoir No Way But Surrender – An account of the Indo-Pakistan War in the Bay of Bengal 1971, Krishnan offers a first-hand account of the tense days leading up to the sinking of PNS Ghazi. He details the intelligence inputs that pointed to Ghazi's arrival in the Bay of Bengal and the strategic deception he crafted to counter the threat.
With INS Vikrant already repositioned to the Andaman Islands, Krishnan masterminded an elaborate ruse by spreading false signals and port chatter about the carrier's presence in Visakhapatnam and using the ageing destroyer INS Rajput to simulate Vikrant's movements. 'I had to make them believe what we wanted them to believe,' he wrote, underscoring the psychological theatre of naval warfare. Ghazi, misled by the bait, approached the Visakhapatnam coast and met its end in the early hours of December 4.
Retired Vice-Admiral G.M. Hiranandani, in his book Transition to Triumph, asserts that the ill-fated submarine most likely went down due to an internal explosion, though the true cause, he notes, remains open to debate. According to a retired naval officer, the first information report was given by fishermen who reported finding flotsam on the morning of December 4.
Regardless of how it happened, the explosion off Visakhapatnam coast changed the course of naval operations in the war. Whether it struck an Indian-laid depth charge or fell victim to its own mines remains debated, but Krishnan's deliberate misinformation campaign was undeniably central to its demise. The sinking of Ghazi not only protected India's eastern fleet but also provided a significant morale boost. The war ended 13 days later with India's victory and the creation of Bangladesh.
Years later, a piece of Ghazi's hull was recovered and preserved at the Visakha Museum. Last year the Indian Navy's newly acquired deep submergence rescue vehicle (DSRV) located the wreckage of PNS Ghazi at a depth of approximately 100 metres, about two to 2.5 kilometres from the coast.
As tensions deescalate, for now, Visakhapatnam continues to stand as a sentinel city, a custodian of a submerged past. The fragment of PNS Ghazi remains a silent witness to the ferocity of war and the fragility of peace.
