Monsoon season, Arossim to Betalbetum beaches, 2020

The international travel ban and swift nationwide lockdown left me stranded in India from March to mid August. Heavy policing - beatings and fines, made the streets unsafe except for in an emergency, so for exercise I started walking on the beach either at first light or just before dusk. The first thing I noticed was how much the beach dogs had suffered - they rely on tourists, beach shacks and fishermen for food and affection, and all had disappeared overnight. I started taking a box of biscuits everyday for the dogs. Initially suspicious of something that wasn't either rice or fish, they soon came to understand biscuits were also food. This made me quite a lot of new friends who would accompany me on my walks, usually in the hope that there was a forgotten biscuit in my camera bag. These images are a small part of a photographic journal I kept during the six months I was marooned.

A few of the dogs usually followed me up the beach from the carpark, hoping I had a forgotten biscuit in my camera bag. On this day they decided that the flow in the creek was too strong for them and I walked on alone.

Two Brahman cows snoozing in the sun between monsoon storms.

Heavy rain on the way

Fishing between storms

Beach football in the monsoon - having a wave wash across the pitch every few minutes adds a new dimension to the game.

Beachdogs from the Majorda pack , up at sunrise and on the mooch.

I'd given these guys some biscuits half an hour previously. This is them reminding me that they could do with some more.

Scarface - expediently named, this is how he looked when we first went walking on the beach as lockdown loosened. By the time I left Majorda, his fur was starting to grow back on his face and body.

The combination of the lockdown and the monsoon led to fish prices sky rocketing as the boats couldn't go out. Fishing off the beach became a way to supplement menus and wages.

Very timid at first and initially deeply suspicious of dog biscuits, but at this stage rather fond of them and wanting another one.

Huey at the back and Browny - fourth of the sisters in the foreground. She's very timid, something to do with the scar that runs from between her ears to half way down her muzzle I would imagine.

Fatima normally grazes on an elevated piece of scrub at the back of the beach, but the winds messed the fencing up and now she enjoys a paddle and a sunbathe most afternoons.

In spite of a very hard and uncertain short life, the beachdogs always find time to play.

Monsoon storm sweeping in across the Arabian Sea.

ADAM REGAN. Photographer.