Believe it or not, there are still some pockets of the world that remain untouched by the population at-large. In some cases, this is simply because the destination is uninhabitable, or much too remote to even be worth the hassle. Other times, it’s because visitors aren’t allowed — either by governmental decree or due to the natives’ hostility toward outsiders.

North Sentinel Island, part of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands in the Bay of Bengal (see: the body of water bordered by India, Bangladesh, Myanmar, and other southeast Asian nations), is one such place that falls under the latter category. For centuries, the native Sentinelese tribe has repelled visitors of any kind, and often with violent force.

So why bring to your attention a place that’s impossible to visit? Well, because it fits in seamlessly with the times we’re currently experiencing: everyone’s under quarantine and we can’t go anywhere, anyway. What we can do is find plenty of travel inspiration, add to our bucket lists, pray for a vaccine, and file away a mental note reminding ourselves that some corners of the earth don’t give a damn about being our oyster.

Regardless of their affinity for shellfish, the inhabitants of North Sentinel Island might be better compared to a group of unfriendly mollusks. Plenty of folks have tried to make contact over the years — the most recent being a 26-year-old missionary named John Chau, who, in 2018, illegally traveled to the island in an attempt to convert the Sentinelese to Christianity — but in most cases, things don’t end well for would-be visitors.

Take the case of the two Indian fishermen who drifted ashore in 2006 after allegedly having a little too much to drink. Doug Bock Clark described the incident in a recent article for GQ: “Other poachers watched from outside the barrier reef as the Sentinelese hacked them to death with what were probably adzes [tools similar to axes], which an anthropologist has speculated that the tribe ‘must have endowed with magical power, to keep away the evil spirits.’”

He continued: “When a helicopter investigated the deaths, archers drove it away, but not before rotor wind whipped sand off shallow graves — revealing a pair of corpses. After some time, the bodies were reportedly dug up and hung like scarecrows on bamboo poles, facing the sea.”

Or consider the scene in 1981, when a Panamanian freighter ran aground on the barrier reef near the island during a monsoon. According to an archived article from Aug. 25 of that year, the crew members aboard described fearing for their safety after seeing “naked islanders aiming spears and arrows at the ship while jumping around on the beach.” They were ultimately rescued by a helicopter that had to make three trips between the wrecked ship and nearby Port Blair, the capital of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands.

If we head back to 1974, we find even more evidence of the Sentinelese tribe’s distaste for outsiders. It was in March of that year that a team of Indian anthropologists approached the island with three members of a friendly Andamanese tribe who attempted to convey to the native islanders that they came in peace.

As Bock Clark tells it: “…from about 80 yards away, one archer bent so far back that he seemed to aim at the sun, then launched an unmistakable reply. In a recording of that moment, an eight-foot bamboo shaft, with an iron nail lashed to its tip, plunges out of the heavens, ricochets off the boat’s railing, and into the water. When the camera refocuses, a Sentinelese man is pumping both fists in what is obviously a victory dance as the boat retreats.”

And what of our friend John Chau, the young missionary who tried to visit North Sentinel Island just a couple years back? Well, as you could probably imagine after reading the preceding paragraphs, what happened is that the Sentinelese were not receptive to his Christ-centered message in the slightest. What happened is that he swam ashore and the fishermen who’d dropped him off came back the next morning, only to witness the Sentinelese dragging his lifeless body through the sand, a rope tied around his neck.

But you can’t say he wasn’t warned. Forget that the Indian government, which technically administers North Sentinel Island, bans anyone from making contact with the tribe — both for their protection and the protection of would-be visitors — and just look at the record that’s been laid out: if you attempt to visit this island, you will be met by hostile natives, no ifs, and, or buts about it.

Triloknath Pandit, an Indian anthropologist who took part in perhaps one of the most peaceful encounters ever recorded with the Sentinelese in 1991, says the tribe may have every reason to be suspicious of outsiders, however. Historians believe Southeast Asian kingdoms of yore may have raided the Andaman and Nicobar Islands for slaves, and the kidnapping of a man, a woman, and four children from the island in the late 19th century orchestrated by a young commander of the British Royal Navy likely didn’t help matters.

Whatever the reason for their distrust of outsiders, the curious traveler ought to take it as a sign that some things simply need to be left well enough alone. Go ahead and learn all that there is to learn about North Sentinel Island — and the surrounding islands, for that matter (which *are* safe to visit) — but do it from a respectful distance, preferably out of range of those eight-foot-long arrows.

-LTH