Tag: mugger crocodiles

The Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary Is a Forest to Fight For

A strong citizens-led protest campaign should lead the way to stop the Mekedatu dam project inside the Cauvery wildlife sanctuary.

The Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary in Karnataka’s south is only about a 100 km away from Bengaluru, the state’s capital. The sanctuary gets its name from the Cauvery river that flows through its serene landscape. Spread over a thousand sq. km, this sanctuary is home to some of India’s endemic and endangered species of wild flora and fauna.

The Mekedatu dam, with a capacity of 67 TMC, is set to come up near the confluence of the Arkavathy and Cauvery streams at a place called Sangama, inside the sanctuary, and will inundate around 50 sq. km of forests. This will have an adverse impact on species like the critically endangered orange-finned mahseer and the endemic grizzled giant squirrel. The government is building the dam to fulfil Bengaluru’s ballooning water demand; it will destroy a unique wilderness as well as dampen the spirit of India’s spirited environmentalists and conservationists, whose relentless efforts to save the country’s green cover have been repeatedly dashed of late.

The fight to save India’s forests and valleys is more necessary than ever because officials are planning numerous projects related to dams, power generation and mines. The participants of this struggle, including citizens and activists, can take hope from the more positive outcomes such as in Amrabad and with the Hasdeo Arand. After a public outcry, the Telangana state government has agreed not to mine the Amrabad forests for uranium. Similarly, after strong protests from local panchayats and tribal bodies, the Chhattisgarh government has for planned an elephant reserve in the Hasdeo Arand forest and agreed to stop further mining activities.

However, the Karnataka government doesn’t seem to be in phase with its counterparts in Telangana and Chhattisgarh, and it falls upon the members of civil society to remind it of its responsibility to steward the state’s natural heritage. The forests around the Cauvery are not just a treat for the eyes or providers of shade for recreational activities; they are natural treasures that deserve to persist instead of being uprooted in the name of development.

§

Here are some photographs this author clicked at the sanctuary.

Left: The Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary has a dry, deciduous forest that is home to a variety of wild flora and fauna. Right: The Cauvery river flows through the sanctuary and has a dozen dams built over it, hampering its environmental flow. But inside the sanctuary, it flows uninterrupted. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

Left: The Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary has a dry, deciduous forest that is home to a variety of wild flora and fauna. Right: The Cauvery river flows through the sanctuary and has a dozen dams built over it, hampering its environmental flow. But inside the sanctuary, it flows uninterrupted.

Left: The Mekedatu dam will submerge a pristine part of the forest. Arjuna, tamarind and malabar plum trees on the river's banks will have to be felled. Some of these trees are over 100 years old. Right: The part of the river flowing inside the sanctuary is a lifeline for mugger crocodiles, smooth-coated otters and the mahseer fish, among other creatures. The orange-finned mahseer is endemic to the Cauvery basin and is critically endangered. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

Left: The Mekedatu dam will submerge a pristine part of the forest. Arjuna, tamarind and malabar plum trees on the river’s banks will have to be felled. Some of these trees are over 100 years old. Right: The part of the river flowing inside the sanctuary is a lifeline for mugger crocodiles, smooth-coated otters and the mahseer fish, among other creatures. The orange-finned mahseer is endemic to the Cauvery basin and is critically endangered.

Left: The riverine portion of the forest is home to the endemic grizzled giant squirrel. Right: Water birds like the oriental darter and the cormorant are found in abundance here. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

Left: The riverine portion of the forest is home to the endemic grizzled giant squirrel. Right: Water birds like the oriental darter and the cormorant are found in abundance here.

Left: The brown fish owl, a large diurnal raptor that feeds mostly on fish, perches perching on large trees on the riverbank. The sanctuary also hosts other large fish-eating raptors like the grey-headed and lesser fish-eagles. Right: A brahminy kite, a kleptoparasitic raptor, on the banks of the Cauvery. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

Left: The brown fish owl, a large diurnal raptor that feeds mostly on fish, perches perching on large trees on the riverbank. The sanctuary also hosts other large fish-eating raptors like the grey-headed and lesser fish-eagles. Right: A brahminy kite, a kleptoparasitic raptor, with its catch on the banks of the Cauvery.

Left: A green imperial pigeon perched on a snag on the Cauvery's banks. Right: An Indian paradise flycatcher sub-adult male.

Left: A green imperial pigeon perched on a snag on the Cauvery’s banks. Right: An Indian paradise flycatcher sub-adult male.

The sanctuary is also home to leopards, spotted deer, four-horned antelopes, sloth bears, honey badgers and porcupines. The Asian elephant is the largest mammal found here, and the Mekedatu dam will obstruct its migratory routes and could catalyse conflicts with villagers on the sanctuary's periphery. Right: Even small creatures like the red velvet mite will lose their habitat if the dam comes up. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

The sanctuary is also home to leopards, spotted deer, four-horned antelopes, sloth bears, honey badgers and porcupines. The Asian elephant is the largest mammal found here, and the Mekedatu dam will obstruct its migratory routes and could catalyse conflicts with villagers on the sanctuary’s periphery. Right: Even small creatures like the red velvet mite will lose their habitat if the dam comes up.

Left: The sanctuary is home to little-known beings like the signature spider. Right: The grizzled giant squirrel is found only in a few forest patches of Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

Left: The sanctuary is home to little-known beings like the signature spider. Right: The grizzled giant squirrel is found only in a few forest patches of Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu.

Left: Butterflies mating on the riverbank. Right: A sloth-bear footprint near the river. Photo: Abhijit Dutta

Left: Butterflies mating on the riverbank. Right: A sloth-bear footprint near the Cauvery river.

Abhijit Dutta has worked on community-based ecotourism in the Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary. He is now associated with the Nature Conservation Foundation and works in the high altitudes. The copyright for all photographs belongs with the author. The views expressed here are personal.

Gujarat’s Plan to Move Crocs to Protect Tourists Is Cosmetic and Short-Sighted

The translocation is also straight-up illegal.

The Gujarat government is concerned about the fate of tourists at its newest tourist attraction, the Statue of Unity. So it is doing something unprecedented: it is relocating almost 500 mugger crocodiles (Crocodylus palustris) away from two ponds near an airplane-landing site near the statue.

At one level, this seems like a preemptive managerial move, the sort hardly ever seen in terms of encounters with potentially dangerous animals. Governments have been known to turn a blind eye to the presence of wildlife, as the Centre did when it planned to construct railway lines through the Melghat tiger reserve, fully aware that trains have been known to kill tigers.

In a similar instance, it has planned to land aircraft in the Chilika wetlands. The million+ migratory birds that visit the site could easily jeopardise the vehicles, and the vehicles in turn could disturb the birds as well. And as has often been the case, infrastructure plans made in haste will also adversely impact people around the area.

Also read: Four Stories That Captured India’s Environmental Zeitgeist in 2018

Yet the muggers’ removal, while couched in concern for tourists, is a problem in many ways. First, the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972, says only those animals that present a proven danger to humans can be moved. Crocodiles are protected under Schedule I of the Act, its highest provision. However, the hundreds of crocodiles in question have not proved to be a danger to human life yet. They only present a potential danger but the Act does not cognise that. This is like locking up all king cobras in a state because they can bite and kill people but haven’t yet. The translocation is straight-up illegal.

Second: this is not good wildlife science. Gujarat has grappled with crocodilian issues of crocodiles for a while now. But moving hundreds of animals to a new site – identified in this case as the Sardar Sarovar dam reservoir – first requires that a carrying-capacity study be undertaken to determine how many crocodiles it can hold.

There is also the attendant issue of crocodile homing behaviour, not much of which is known about in India. In Australia, a saltwater crocodile had been moved 400 km away from its original habitat, and it made its way back in 20 days. Further, we do know that the Indian muggers are territorial animals. They will fight with other crocodiles, including any residents, especially when put in one place. So can a reservoir sustain so many crocodiles? Will it have the adequate prey base? Or is this going to end up in mass mortality? Gujarat doesn’t seem interested in answering these questions, and perhaps that is even more galling.

Third: the authorities value the lives of tourists more than any other people who may be using, or will use, the Sardar Sarovar dam reservoir in the future, which will be full of potentially disoriented crocodiles. In the 1980s, muggers that had been moved to the Neyyar reservoir in Kerala ended up attacking many people who used the water source for drinking, washing and irrigation. One study also found that larger crocodiles attacked people more often.

Also read: Editorial: Gujarat’s Asmita Is India’s Pride

Fourth: wild animals can’t be managed without understanding the animals’ behaviour. And Gujarat’s move is not supported by the science, and is dangerous and unethical. On this count alone, it should be blocked.

But we are far more stopping. A rash of administrative decisions across the country have focused on forcibly capturing animals with no proven history of violence. Traps have been set up in four villages of Farrukhnagar, Haryana, because a leopard was spotted there. In January, a leopard was baited and caught in Sumerpur, Rajasthan. Studies have also noted how leopards relocated within India have returned to their original territories and attacked people more often.

As far as the muggers go, Gujarat should try problem management in situ, instead of simply moving the issue to another site or using an administrative solution for a problem its administration was not designed to solve. A site at the feet of a statue for the Iron Man of India should at the very least demand a more scientific and moral approach.

Neha Sinha is a wildlife conservationist and tweets at @nehaa_sinha. The views expressed here are personal.

Review: Self-Aware, but Not Sentimental, Conversations With the Unglamorous Wild

The most striking thing about ‘My Husband and Other Animals 2’ is the strong and unapologetic woman at its centre

The title, My Husband and Other Animals 2, first registered as too similar to Gerard Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals (1956), and then as something cloyingly conjugal. But understanding that this book is far from any sort of mawkishness is crucial to appreciating it.

It’s straight-faced and straight-talking, and demolishes tropes of heroism awarded to conservationists, in a break from the way they’re often showcased. It presents an often funny but deeply felt take on the wonder and worry in Indian conservation. Romulus Whitaker, the titular husband and reptile conservationist, appears in many chapters as a muse rather than a messiah. The author Janaki Lenin clearly adores him, but this is more about her than him.

Wildlife writing in India, represented by authors such as M.K. Ranjitsinh, A.J.T. Johnsingh, Kenneth Anderson and Jim Corbett has focused chiefly on native wildlife in forests and wildernesses. In Lenin’s telling, there is no obvious ‘endangered species’ list the author goes through, and nor does it address all of India. Instead, the animals – which include both wild and domestic, both exotic and native – are ones the author has encountered and, more meaningfully, has taken the time to observe.

So you have pet emus, millipedes, leopards, oystercatcher birds, king cobras, crocodiles and chippiparai dogs. In an easy narrative style, Lenin seeks to answer a single question: Why do animals behave the way they do, and what is our relationship with them?

Also read: A Forest Is a Story, and Two New Books Narrate It Through the Perfect Eyes

An intense curiosity pervades the pages. Lenin asks questions about animals the way other people might about human beings. For example, why did the emus eat a particularly stinking millipede? Because they wanted to. Why do lemurs rub centipede juice on their bodies? To ward mosquitoes off. Why didn’t a particular king cobra bite her, even though Lenin was unwittingly in its presence for nine hours?

Many of the reptiles that show up are dangerous, and generally considered uncharismatic. The Government of Gujarat, for instance example, is ‘freeing’ lakes near the Statue of Unity of almost 500 mugger crocodiles so tourist sea-planes can land there. In other places, crocodiles are at the centre of an intensifying human-wildlife conflict.

My Husband and Other Animals 2: The Wildlife Adventures Continue, Janaki Lenin, Westland Books, 2018

My Husband and Other Animals 2: The Wildlife Adventures Continue
Janaki Lenin
Westland Books, 2018

Sympathy for these animals is rare. Lenin’s gaze is unblinking: she accepts the animals for what they are, pointing out things that stood out to her. Like the tender gender-benders that crocodilians are good fathers. It seems a mugger at the Madras Crocodile Bank Trust (MCBT) would carry his hatchlings to the water, and shield them from birds and other predators.

A recent and unusual event in Bawa Mohtara village, Chattisgarh, where villagers mourned the death of a 130-year old crocodile, reminded me of a crocodile from the book’s pages. The MCBT’s first crocodile, which had been rescued from a zoo, died when a tunnel he was digging collapsed. Lenin writes about him: “The croc that survived spirit-crushing solitude for 15 years with equanimity, and a governor’s threat too, sired hundreds of babies in his decade-long career as a crocodilian stud.”

The book rises above observation and repartee because it doesn’t shy away from difficult topics in conservation… as much as in life.

Lenin writes in one place about how crocodiles are fed at the mausoleum of Khan Jahan Ali, a 15th century Sufi saint, in Bangladesh. The MCBT offered crocodiles to the shrine, which turned them down because it said the crocs were “heathen”. Whitaker then argued they would be blessed if the crocs drank the shrine’s water. MCBT also spotted a saltwater crocodile among the crocs already being fed and advised it be removed. But the shrine refused, thanks to a mix of superstitious beliefs and devotion. It ended up mauling people and was beaten to death.

Lenin writes, “I couldn’t help thinking: the road to this conservation hell is paved with our good intentions.”

She tries to understand human behaviour through animal behaviour, exploring why the males rape and or why homosexuality might have evolved. This could seem forced to some readers; I didn’t always buy into the associations. However, this is a new kind of writing in the wildlife and nature canon for India.

Perhaps the most important aspect of the book is the strong and unapologetic woman at its centre, who transformed from a city girl into a wildlife-lover. The bittersweet qualities of a hermetic life aren’t glossed over. Lenin takes the time, like a slow bildungsroman, to lay out her chequered journey. At the heart of it, this is a woman’s story – a woman in her own right, a woman following unglamorous animals. A woman growing deeply into what she followed. In my favourite chapter, ‘Marriages are made on earth’, she writes:

Rom was a single-minded reptile freak who loved the wild and the company of wild animals more than people. I was a city girl. I had never been in a forest or seen a wild animal before I met Rom. I chafed when trading colourful handloom saris for drab, jungle attire. I left behind armfuls of silver bangles, as they made too much noise in the forest. Beads could get caught in the undergrowth, so off they came. I confined my feet in shoes, a reminder of a hated school life. I didn’t look like me anymore.

These are moments of pure joy and pure confusion in other chapters.

Also read: Janaki Lenin’s series for The Wire on amazing animals

“While I enjoyed living at the Croc Bank, I also remember aching to get away… we only had other staff for company. We were in each other’s homes and lives much more than is healthy. Even the best friendships can dissolve in such a fishbowl.” The kind of space the forest presented didn’t make things easier. She writes:

To an outsider, I must have seemed like a demure bride, following her husband with her head bent down. I was hypnotised by the ground that was seething with brown worms.. Leeches. More than their dietary preference for warm blood, I was terrified of contact—of their cold, slimy bodies attached to mine. The thought made me feel icky.

There aren’t many autobiographies or memoirs of women, particularly of women close to nature. There’s the sweeping Born Free by Joy Adamson (1960) and the intensely literary H is For Hawk by Helen Macdonald (2014), but little else.

Lenin’s book turns its gaze both outwards to nature and inwards to her own self. She knows her weaknesses and she owns them. If not for the creatures, read the book for just that rarity: a frequently funny, self-deprecating woman who isn’t afraid to be flawed, to be ‘unfeminine’ with minimum fuss, and who prefers self-awareness to sentimentality.

Neha Sinha works for the Bombay Natural History Society. The views expressed here are personal.