Ross Island is an elliptical chapter of history crimped into a tiny strip of land a breath from Port Blair. Walk its narrow paths and you cross a surprising sequence of moods: disciplined colonial order turned makeshift wartime outpost, abandoned officialdom softened by vines, and a small domestic wildlife refuge where spotted deer and peacocks move through former drawing rooms. The island’s story is short on scale but long on human consequence—political prisoners and administrators, soldiers and civilians, and now tourists who come to read the traces.
The British developed Ross Island after 1858 as part of a broader plan to hold and punish those convicted during the upheavals of mid-19th-century India. The settlement that rose here was paradoxical: built on convict labour, it boasted a chief commissioner’s bungalow, a church, bakeries, tennis lawns and a printing press—amenities meant to mirror life on the mainland even as the penal logic of the place remained harsh. For the British, Ross was both an administrative node and a symbol that an empire could be self-contained in the sea. However, history features that the island’s ‘comfortable’ façade sat above a far grimmer reality for many prisoners.
Many of the remaining masonry shells you’ll photograph today—the commissioner’s house, officers’ quarters, the church—are the same structures that once punctuated colonial routine. The contrast between carefully laid stone and the slow creep of roots is one of the island’s quieter spectacles: architecture in a long conversation with climate and time.
One of Ross Island’s most haunting vestiges is the Presbyterian Church, erected between 1863–1866 under Rev. Henry Fisher Corbyn of the Bengal Ecclesiastical Establishment.
This was no modest chapel. Built in stone, with window-frames of Burma teak, and stained glass behind its altar, reportedly from Italy, this church served the British administrators and residents of the penal colony. There was a clergy residence on its southern side.
Today it is a ruin: roofless, walls weeping vines, and its stained glass long shattered. Yet even in decay, the church evokes a threshold where colonial routine, religious ritual, convict labour and enforced exile all converge. For photographers and history-lovers, its façade, trophies of light through empty frames and gnarled roots clinging to stone, offer one of Ross Island’s most poignant images.
Ross Island’s colonial reign was abruptly disrupted by seismic upheaval and war. After a major earthquake in 1941 damaged many British structures, Japanese forces occupied the Andaman Islands in March 1942. Ross Island became one of their strategic headquarters.
During their occupation, the Japanese built bunkers, pillboxes and defensive positions—concrete fortifications along the shores and at strategic points of the island. These were intended for surveillance and defence against Allied forces.
Some of these bunkers are accessible to visitors today, though many are in ruin, overgrown or partially submerged. Restoration efforts have been reported in recent years, especially for bunkers near Corbyn’s Cove and the Water Sports Complex.
Locally, stories persist about how the Japanese troops hoisted their flags, used the Government House as headquarters, and fortified the island against attack. When Subhas Chandra Bose visited in December 1943, he stayed at the Government House and hoisted the Indian tricolour.
Ross Island’s second act came with the 20th century’s upheavals. A damaging earthquake in 1941 weakened masonry across the South and Middle Andamans and precipitated political and administrative shifts away from the island; within a year Japanese forces had landed and occupied the archipelago in March 1942, an episode that entwined the islands’ fate with the wider theatre of World War II and the Indian National Army’s brief presence there. Those wartime years, and the fragmentation that followed, meant Ross never quite resumed its pre-war administrative primacy.
The Andamans sit on active tectonic margins, and the long shadow of 20th- and 21st-century earthquakes, most dramatically the 2004 Sumatra-Andaman event and tsunami, has repeatedly redrawn shorelines and raised urgent questions about coastal safety across the islands. Historical reports note that Ross itself experienced subsidence and damage across seismic events, a fact that helps explain why its buildings were not fully rehabilitated as Port Blair grew.
Ross Island is now administered as a protected site and is a short ferry hop from Port Blair. The island’s principal draw is the interplay of built memory and living nature: battered colonial façades threaded with banyan roots, a small central pond, vestigial bakeries and the Commissariat store—all accessible via a tidy walking loop. Interpretive signs and the Archaeological Survey of India’s oversight aim to balance visitor interest with conservation.
Wildlife is part of the experience: spotted deer, peacocks and a variety of resident birds wander the island, lending sudden, domestic moments to what might otherwise feel like an open-air museum. Local caretakers maintain the small sanctuary and the animals are accustomed to people, which makes for straightforward wildlife sightings without the strain of serious trekking.
A surprising piece of the visit is the island’s evening light-and-sound performance, a staged narration that compresses its penal and colonial history into a showpiece of projected lights and voiceover. The production has evolved in recent years with technological updates and remains one of the principal ways casual visitors learn the island’s backstory before they explore on foot.
A trip to Ross Island is a short 10–15 minute ferry ride from Aberdeen Jetty or Marina Park in Port Blair. Ferries operate daily for tourists. There are no overnight facilities on the island, so visits are day trips; basic kiosks and shaded benches serve visitors but don’t expect cafés or full services. Respect the cordoned buildings and do not climb into fragile interiors — the joy is in observing how human design and coastal climate have rewritten one another. Causing hindrance to the wildlife is strictly prohibited. Morning or late-afternoon visits give you softer light and cooler air for walking and photography.
For travellers who want more context, Port Blair’s museums and guided tours can situate Ross within the broader history of the Cellular Jail, convict settlements and the islands’ wartime experiences.
Bring good walking shoes; water; camera; a hat and shade (no major shelters on site).
1. Why is Ross Island in Andaman famous?
Ross Island is known for its colonial ruins, historic church, Japanese bunkers, and the way nature has reclaimed old British structures, making it a major heritage site near Port Blair.
2. How do I reach Ross Island from Port Blair?
Ross Island can be reached by a short 10–15 minute ferry ride from Aberdeen Jetty or Marina Park in Port Blair. Ferries operate daily for tourists.
3. What are the main attractions on Ross Island?
Key attractions include the Presbyterian Church ruins, Chief Commissioner’s House, Japanese bunkers, a small wildlife sanctuary with spotted deer and peacocks, and the evening light-and-sound show.
4. Is there an entry fee for Ross Island?
Yes, visitors pay a nominal entry fee, and additional charges may apply for the light-and-sound show. Prices are usually affordable for both domestic and international tourists.
5. Can tourists stay overnight on Ross Island?
No, Ross Island does not have accommodation facilities. It is strictly a day-trip destination, and visitors return to Port Blair after exploring.
