Every summer, the arrival of Hapus sparks conversations about flavour, heritage, and identity. From Goa's orchards to the famed mango belts of Ratnagiri and Devgad, The Goan traces the stories, growers, and debates behind one of the Konkan coast's most celebrated fruits
Every summer brings the king of fruits and all the conversations that surround it. All these inevitably stop at one name, Hapus. Internationally acclaimed, Hapus is the most celebrated mango of the Konkan coast. Hapus’s story of origin and fame remains a question.
Goan Mancurad and Goan Alphonso
Agriculturist Nestor Rangel explains how the Goan Mancurad and Goan Alphonso are different in taste and shape, as well as in the flesh. He mentions that while the Niccolao Alphonso and Goan Alphonso look similar, they taste different. At first glance, all mangoes look the same. However, upon closer inspection, the differences become clear. “Alphonso’s shape tapers down towards the end. It’s got an oblong sort of shape. Mankurad is straighter. The flavour of Mancurad is better; it has more yellowish flesh. Alphonso has more orange flesh,” he mentions.
He notes how in Maharashtra, they have propagated a standardised variety and size, which, he mentions, is very good for packing and exports. “In Goa, it is all khichdi (confusion)! In my orchard itself, I have about 3 varieties of Alphonso and about 15 varieties of Mancurad,” he clarifies.
Ratnagiri Hapus
Travelling beyond the borders and the conversation on Hapus continues till Devgad and Ratnagiri, two regions closely related to Hapus. Gajanan Tendulkar, a mango orchard owner, shares insights on the Ratnagiri Hapus. “In Ratnagiri Hapus, you don’t find fibres. Once you cut it, you will find more flesh inside. The pit, the hard part, is smaller. It is longer and a bit bigger in size. The taste is amazing, and hence it is a crowd favourite,” he adds. The saplings, trees, and fruit require timely management.
Climate change, however, leads to spotting on the mangoes. He clears the misconception about the spotted mangoes, stating that the fruit inside is not spoiled. “But people prefer cleaner mangoes regardless of their taste, as they have a misconception that the spotted mango means it is spoiled. Lesser unseasonal rains are beneficial to mangoes. But incessant rains and hailstorms can cause the mango to fall prematurely,” he adds. However, small passing showers can also help in cleaning the fruit as well as helping it ripen. Yet, the mango yield has gone down almost 75% in the last 7-8 years, with climate change being the leading cause.
Harvesting traditions
Smita Gajanan Tendulkar says the Ratnagiri Hapus from her orchards is harvested only after naturally reaching maturity, without the use of growth regulators. The mangoes are hand-plucked, packed in hay-filled crates, and dispatched to destinations including Mumbai, Pune, Delhi, and even Singapore. “We usually begin harvesting on Padwa, but this year the crop was delayed, so we started on Akshay Tritiya,” she says.
Rohan Keer, yet another mango orchard owner, mentions how the orchard he looks after has been passed down to him from his father. “Some of these trees are 40-45 years old. Some are even 100 years old. The older trees bear fruit every year, the trees from the more recent grafts give uneven produce,” he mentions. For the people there, Hapus is not merely a fruit but a part of their identity.
Devgad Hapus
Santosh Patkar, Manager of the Devgad Taluka Amba Utpadak Saunstha, says Devgad Hapus is known for its paper-thin skin, low fibre content, and distinctive aroma. According to him, the region's rocky terrain and salty coastal winds contribute to its unique flavour profile. “The aroma stays with you, and the taste lingers. Only then does it become a Devgad Hapus,” he exclaims. “As writer and humorist Pu. La. Deshpande rightly calls the Hapus the bapus (father) of all mangoes,” he quips.
The Gogte family’s role
Adv Ajit Gogte narrates how, initially, hardly anybody gave importance to Hapus or gave it a platform for growth. “However, a few gave, and one of them was my grandfather, Moreshwar Janardhan Gogte. He used to graft Hapus in the 1920s and then sell them. He would even gift these grafts to guests who would visit us. That’s how we are enjoying the legacy of these fruits even now. Trees grown from his grafts still exist,” he says.
Gogte’s father was also very involved in the whole process. The lands at that time were common lands that had many names on the documents and, due to internal issues, had thus remained uncultivated. Gogte’s father spoke to a few trusted people and made them make an agreement with him for the next 25-30 years, and let him grow a plantation on the land. He sowed the grafts himself, thus playing an instrumental role in turning the uncultivated land into Hapus Heartland.
Goa’s Hapus and Maharashtra’s Hapus
The Hapus’ journey is a long one; some say the Portuguese brought it to Goa, and through trade or travel, it reached Maharashtra. Botanist and academician Miguel Braganza challenges the common belief that Goa’s Hapus and Maharashtra’s Hapus are the same variety. According to him, the two mangoes merely share a name. “The misconception exists because of the name,” he says, explaining that Goa’s Hapus differs from the Ratnagiri and Devgad varieties in both identity and flavour and the sugar-acid balance. He points out that Ratnagiri Hapus ripens earlier, while Goa’s varieties arrive later.
More than just a mango
Perhaps that is what makes the Hapus story so intriguing. Beyond questions of origin and ownership, it is a fruit that has grown through generations of orchard caretakers, local landscapes, and cherished memories. Whether it ripens in Goa, Ratnagiri, or Devgad, the Hapus continues to reign supreme as the king of fruits.
