The Areng Valley, one of Cambodia’s most socially and ecologically sensitive areas can be found in the depths of the country’s southwestern forests. Home to rare and globally endangered wildlife—and to communities that depend on the valley’s abundant natural resources—the entire habitat may be flooded if officials proceed with the controversial Chaey Areng hydropower project. In addition to the likely impacts on the environment and communities of the valley, the project is politically sensitive, as it raises questions about how the habitat should managed, and who should have access to the resources of the Areng Valley. The following images provide an introduction to both the Areng Valley and the people who are trying to protect its riches and influence its future.

Located in southwestern Cambodia, the Areng Valley is a roughly 20,000 hectare expanse of evergreen forests, wetlands, farms, and villages that overlap with one of Southeast Asia’s most important conservation areas: the Central Cardamom Protected Forest. Designated as a protected area in 2002, the valley and the surrounding mountains are widely recognised as being a part of a broader bioregion that houses significant amounts of biodiversity. The region is host to some of the world’s rarest wildlife. Asian elephants, pleated gibbons, clouded leopards, Asiatic black bears and great hornbills are just some of the 31 globally endangered species that have been recorded in the Areng Valley alone. Of notable importance is the presence of the critically endangered Siamese crocodile in the Areng River, a species now extinct across 99% of its historical habitat range. This biological wealth is made possible by the large habitat range provided by the expansive evergreen montane forests of the Cardamom Mountains. 

Some 400,000 hectares of relatively undisturbed ecosystems offer a wide range of species the room to flourish. The abundance of wildlife is also supported by the physical connections between the many ecosystems. Highland forests, for example, remain connected to lowland marshes through hydrological processes, which in turn allow biophysical processes like nutrient flows and migration to proceed unimpeded. Within the broader Cardamom Mountains bioregion, the Areng Valley is only one part of this mosaic of environments, but its river system plays an important role in connecting the diverse ecologies found in the Cardamoms.

At the heart of the valley is the Areng River, which fuels both the valley’s ecology and its residents. The river’s watershed receives an average of 150-200 inches of rainfall per year, with most of the precipitation occurring during the monsoon season (May-October). Seasonal pulses of floodwaters during this time are extremely important in allowing nutrients from the watershed’s forests to be distributed throughout the Areng Valley. Not only do these pulses contribute to the river’s aquatic biomass, but they also help nourish the valley’s agricultural fields. Connected to the river are also networks of seasonal streams, wetlands and ponds that allow many freshwater fish species to perform migrations between the river and the valley’s floodplain wetlands. Combined with the river’s internal aggregation of interconnected habitats—including deep pools, fast flowing rapids, woody debris and riparian vegetation—the Areng River maintains a level of habitat quality that is becoming increasingly harder to find in the rest of Southeast Asia. Healthy populations of extremely rare Siamese crocodiles, Asian arowana (dragonfish) and “blackfish” attest to the river’s ability to support considerable amounts of biological wealth.

Embedded in the Areng Valley and River’s ecologies are native residents who rely heavily on the area’s environmental resources. While many people living in the valley moved to the area from other parts of Cambodia after the fall of the Khmer Rouge regime, a large portion of the 1500 or so residents are Khmer Daeum, a group of Cambodian natives that include the Chong and Sui indigenous groups. Regardless of ethnic origin, all families in the Areng Valley make their livelihoods through subsistence practices. Rice cultivation, in particular, is an integral part of many people’s lives. All the rice, and virtually all other produce grown in the valley, is consumed locally. Cultural interactions also reinforce the locals’ connection to, and conception of, the Areng’s landscape. Communal agricultural practices, along with communal use of forests and the Areng River, emphasise the shared use of the valley’s resources. In addition, animist beliefs in spirit forests and animals such as the Siamese crocodile help sustain a level of conservation by discouraging trespassing and unnecessary encounters.

One place where the intimate knowledge of the environment among valley residents frequently manifests itself is on the surface of the Areng River. Areng Valley fishers, in particular, possess a wealth of place-based knowledge honed by years of experience, and are capable of catching many of the 43 fish species that have been recorded in the river’s watershed. The hidden contours and life under the Areng River are as familiar to them as the dirt paths that connect the houses of their village. With such knowledge comes a detailed understanding of the behaviour of aquatic species, including their migration patterns, preferred habitats, and life cycle characteristics. The connections people have with their surrounding environments make them experts on the Areng Valley’s ecological systems.

Despite the highly knowledgeable way in which the residents of the Areng Valley engage with their environment, some government officials feel that such knowledge and associated lifestyles are inappropriate for a country that is attempting to rapidly modernise. Both the economic poverty of people living in the Areng Valley and the country’s shortage of electricity are noted as being primary reasons necessitating the construction of the Cheay Areng hydropower dam on the Areng River. Since 2006, several foreign companies have offered to lift the valley out of poverty by promising residents generous compensation packages and by sustainably using the valley’s water resources through hydropower.

The Cambodian government has embraced these plans as a part of its overall development goals to increase electricity production and to help bring the benefits of development to rural populations. However, a number of prominent environmental organisations, as well as a Japanese aid agency, have countered such claims of prosperity and sustainability with data suggesting that the project offers minimal economic benefits—and will take a considerable toll on local communities and biodiversity. Increasingly, Areng Valley residents are also voicing their opposition to the project. In an attempt to counter what they see as a one-sided project that will strip them of important environmental resources, residents have resorted to forms of protest that allow them to project their voices past the confines of the valley. Their efforts include motorcade marches to provincial government offices, submission of petitions to the national government, and forms of civil disobedience that are physically preventing the hydropower project from moving forward. 

The future management of the Areng Valley’s environment remains uncertain despite continued efforts by valley residents to stop the dam. Past experience has demonstrated that force is often used against groups that have vehemently opposed large-scale development projects in Cambodia. As a result, it is unclear how the situation will develop from here and how the Cambodian government and the company responsible for the project will respond to the demands of valley residents. For now, with no other functioning mechanism to have their voices heard, Areng Valley villagers will continue their protests.

The Areng Valley communities are not alone in their fight. Starting from a single dedicated local NGO, an expanding network of individuals and groups are rallying to support the efforts of valley residents. Among the supporters are a group of politically active monks who have embarked on an awareness raising campaign for the plight of the Areng Valley, which involves symbolic blessing of the oldest trees in the valley as well as praying for the protection of its people and environment. Other supporters include lawyers, film directors and scientists, each of whom contributes to a campaign seeking to empower valley residents in a way that will allow them to continue to maintain and benefit from the valley’s environment. 

Ultimately, what the valley residents seek is a way to participate in discussions about how their environmental resources are used for either conservation or development. Much of the dialogue to date has been directed at them rather than with them. Thus, the Chaey Areng hydropower issue offers an opportunity to break new ground in Cambodia, to redefine how stakeholder participation actually influences the planning and implementation of resource use projects. If all sides involved in the resource dispute can listen to the people who will be most affected by a final decision—dam or no dam—then perhaps a path towards a more sustainable and equitable future can be made for the people and environment of the Areng Valley.

Daniel Hoshizaki is a graduate student at the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies, currently conducting research in Cambodia. His research focuses on the social and ecological impacts of hydropower development in the country. He is also working with a locally based environmental NGO, Mother Nature, to advocate for the rights of communities that will be affected by the proposed Chaey Areng hydropower project, daniel.hoshizaki@yale.edu.

The Atlantic Forest is one of the biodiversity hotspots of the planet but only about 11-16% of its original area remains. Urbanisation and agriculture have drastically transformed the landscape, not only by deforestation, but also by elimination of entire hills, indented to allow urban expansion along the shore and in flood-prone lowlands. Economic agricultural cycles, mainly coffee cultivation, were responsible for most of the hills’ biodiversity degradation until the 1800s. During this period the city went through a severe drought, which led to the decision to reforest the Tijuca massif in order to restore specific ecosystem services, such as fresh water supply, local climate regulation, botanical explorations, and recreation for the growing population. Today, more than 150 years later, the forest still provides numerous services and is protected as part of the Tijuca National Park. The remnants of the native ecosystems are located in private and public areas, mainly in Federal, State and Municipal Conservation Units. Forests, mangroves, and other natural ecosystems are estimated to cover about 18% of Rio’s urban area.

Urban nature is so important that the city received the UNESCO’s World Heritage Site award in 2012, as “Rio de Janeiro: Carioca Landscapes between the Mountain and the Sea”.  Beaches and parks are assets that attract residents and tourists. The city is physically divided by the massifs of Tijuca and Pedra Branca. The slopes are mostly covered by restored Atlantic rainforest and exotic tree species. 

Like many of the Global South cities, Rio has high social-ecological contrasts and inequities: built-up areas adjoin slums (favelas), mostly located in vulnerable deforested slopes and flood-prone lowlands, spread in the urban tissue; expensive residential and commercial developments are located closer to coastal zones; and the inland region is characterised by densely living, lower income populations, poor infrastructure (sanitation and public transportation), and land mostly deprived from vegetation and public spaces. 

Rio de Janeiro faces many challenges related to urban expansion, such as floods and landslides, increasing urban heat island effect, severe traffic congestion, and air and water pollution, among other hazards to human health. Nowadays, the expansion is sped up by public and private investment flows to promote several international events that have boosted the city’s image worldwide, mainly the 2016 Olympic Games. These investments support real estate developments over lowlands in the city’s west zone, causing radical landscape transformations that follow the historic occupation patterns of eradication of ecosystems and biodiversity, even with alterations in environmental legislation.

Despite the ongoing negative trend, tools and mechanisms that can help to support biodiversity and ecosystems in Rio do exist, as the following two examples will show. 

PENINSULA – TOP-DOWN INITIATIVES OF ENVIRONMENTAL LEGISLATION AND OWNERSHIP RIGHTS

Environmental legislation was responsible for the implementation of protection and restoration of biodiversity in the late 20th Century. The most successful case is located in the Jacarepaguá lowlands—a lagoon system. In this area, a modernist urban plan designed in 1969 by the architect and urban planner Lucio Costa , envisioned the future city center in a wetland, with sprawled car-based gated communities and shopping malls along the main highways. In the plan, the lowlands were divided in glebes—large lots of land—that attracted powerful real estate investors. In the following decades, after the opening of a new road system, the occupation was fast, and led to a deep transformation of the landscape: from native ecosystems to lawns and “homogenised” ornamental gardens with few exotic species. However, the area has still today about 30% of vegetated land cover.

In order to enable the development of a strategically located 750,000 square metres residential gated community named Península, in 1986 the glebe’s owner hired Fernando Chacel, a famous ecologically oriented Brazilian landscape architect, to restore and create a 77,000 square metres ecological park on a three kilometres long lagoon-front land parcel. In this manner, the glebe´s owner could comply with the legislation and add value to his land. He foresaw a business opportunity and envisioned a park that could be a magnet for new residents in his property. He also promoted the restoration of mangroves and associated transition ecosystems in a contiguous park, Mello Barreto, and had to protect a 207,061.26 square metres in an adjacent Northern glebe. Today, residents recognise native biodiversity and adapted species as one of the main assets of their community. 

INHUAMA – THE BOTTOM-UP INITIATIVE OF VERDEJAR

Verdejar restoration area – Inhaúma

Cecilia HerzogThe northern district of Inhaúma is one of the densest and poorest areas in Rio. It has about 118 inhabitants per hectare, and only 1.6% of its territory is covered by green areas. In the late 1980’s, a resident known as “Luiz Poeta” (Poet Luiz), started to plant native tree species in one of the few non-built slopes of the region. Other residents joined him in his effort to restore the rainforest, so they could enjoy a better local climate, protection against landslides and further illegal occupation. The informal actions gave place to an active NGO: Verdejar. The transformation is remarkable: large portions of the slopes are now covered by forests, and residents that got engaged in this process started studying to be better prepared to work for enhancing their community. Their many activities combine nature restoration and conservation with local culture and arts. Local production of fruits and vegetables is another target of the organisation. It is a bottom-up approach: people value the biodiversity and the ecosystem services that the forest, agro-forestry and vegetable gardens provide. It is a successful combination of nature restoration and positive social change.

Verdejar is one of the many organisations in Rio that are engaged in social and ecological actions. Together, they have the potential to constitute an efficient network of stakeholders that can influence the political agenda. It is, however, crucial that decision makers of the city develop a deeper understanding of the role of urban biodiversity and the ecosystem services it provides, in order to promote a systemic socio-ecologically oriented urban planning and design. In this manner, Rio could achieve its full potential to be a real biophilic city.

Cecilia Herzog is researcher and lecturer on Green Infrastructure and Biodiversity, president of Inverde Institute, and Asssociate Professor at Pontifícia Universidade Católica do Rio de Janeiro (PUC-Rio), Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, ceciliapherzog@gmail.com. 

Ricardo Finotti is researcher and Associate professor at Estácio de Sá University. finottiricardo@gmail.com.

Marine fisheries are particularly troubled as wild fish landings have continued to decline since the 1980s. Although a few marine fisheries are managed sustainability (notably sockeye salmon in Alaska), the majority of the world’s fish stocks are currently fully exploited, over-exploited or depleted. Further, although the broad development of aquaculture has led to a net increase in global fish production, aquaculture has done little to alleviate fishing pressure on wild stocks, and may exacerbate their vulnerability to collapse. National and regional initiatives, such as the visionary Coral Triangle Initiative, highlight the need for science-based knowledge to aid in the development of more sustainable fishery regulations and practices, and conserve centres of marine biodiversity. Yet, how exploitative fishing and conservation can successfully cooperate remains uncertain. At face value, conservation and exploitation may seem like two sides of the same coin; one aiming to safeguard marine resources, the other tasked with harvesting them. However, both are necessary. Marine resources must be exploited to feed our global population and provide livelihood for millions of people; and marine resources must be conserved to ensure that future generations can also provide for themselves and that marine food webs endure. 

This challenge has yet to be solved, but we are striding forward. Here, I describe how an investment in scientific research for the exploitation of a fishery produced valuable and unexpected data for the conservation of that fishery. Mandated by the Philippine administration to be the research arm of the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources, the National Fisheries Research and Development Institute (NFRDI) has been the principle source of government-supported scientific data for the development and management of the country’s fisheries since 2001. Since its origin, the Institute has primarily utilised labor-intensive field measurements to obtain stock assessment metrics of growth, abundance and mortality rates of highly-valued commodity species. Although well-established and important in providing a snapshot of fish population parameters (such as Total Available Catch), these metrics are limited to quantifying phenotypic patterns (physical attributes or phenotypes). They provide little insight for delineating stock boundaries, quantifying migration rates and identifying corridors and barriers to gene flow. Rather, to effectively describe these metrics, researchers required tools that profiled the genotypic features (genetic attributes or genotypes) of the fish populations; they use population genetics.

A population is a group of organisms living in the same geographic area that can potentially interbreed. Population genetics, furthermore, is the study of the genetic variation in a population and how it changes in response to environmental and evolutionary forces. Whereas phenotypes can be quantified by examining the physical features of an organism, genotypes are obtained from an organism’s genetic features. One way to obtain this data is through DNA sequencing. Genotypic data has several advantages over phenotypic data; in particular that genetic data shows patterns and traits that may not be expressed in the phenotype, in other words, features that are not visible. For this reason, genotypic data is a powerful tool in species identification, especially in specimens that are difficult to distinguish by appearance. Further, this data can be used to determine from which population an individual originated, the parentage and kinship of individuals in a population, and the relatedness among populations distributed over a geographic region. These uses are applicable to marine fisheries management, particularly for demarcating the geographic limits or boundaries of a fish population (delineating stock boundaries), and for locating pathways or corridors where genes are transferred among populations via migration (gene flow).

The emergence of a wide range and inexpensive suite of molecular genetics tools over the past two decades has since made genotypic studies commonplace, even on the modest budget of research laboratories in developing nations. The formation of NFRDI’s molecular genetics laboratory signified a stride forward for fisheries research in the Philippines. In recent years, NFRDI has become the leading government laboratory utilising molecular genetics explicitly for fisheries research, and overall, one of the nation’s most productive sources for scholarly, peer-reviewed molecular genetics publications.

Tuna, mackerel, scad and sardines are the primary targets of capture-fisheries of the Philippines and across much of South East Asia. Of these, sardines are the cheapest and most accessible source of animal protein in the Philippines and provide billions of pesos in domestic economic revenue. Molecular genetic research on this taxon was limited to just a handful of studies on a rare and endemic freshwater species prior to 2010. At that point, a new collaboration focusing on sardine research was forged between NFRDI and the Old Dominion University (United States). By design, NFRDI would host an Old Dominion University scientist for two years who would mentor the Institute’s junior scientists and together generate molecular data on sardines. The research aim was to delineate sardine stock boundaries, following which the data would be transferred to a policy-making body actively in the process of forming national sardine policy. In short, this objective was met and culminated in several data-supported recommendations made to policy makers. Subsequently, one recommendation was incorporated into an administrative order instituting a closed season for sardine fishing in southern Philippine waters.  This involved a correction to the taxonomic nomenclature of the most abundant sardine species (Sardinella lemuru) that had persisted for nearly a century, an important amendment given regulations are species-specific. Although the incorporated recommendation was modest in scope, it signified a discrete example of molecular genetics data being applied to the development of marine fishery policy in a developing nation. 

More exciting from a conservation perspective were, however, the unanticipated discoveries that shed new light on the biodiversity of this valued fishery. In addition to the  previously mentioned taxonomic correction of the most common Philippine sardine, we identified the presence of a sardine previously unknown to the archipelago. Sardinella hualiensis, the Taiwanese sardinella, as its name indicates, is native to Taiwan and mainland China. This is a particularly fascinating discovery when considering the sea-surface temperature regimes of these areas; Philippine waters are tropical, Taiwanese waters are temperate to sub-tropical. In other words, the water where the sardine is “from” is cooler; yet repeated field and molecular assessments confirm its presence in the Philippines. Could the range extension of a northern-latitude, cool water species be in some way related to global climate change, or has the Taiwanese sardinella long been present in the Philippines and just has gone unnoticed? Given the difficulty in taxonomic identification of sardines, the latter is plausible. Since 1908, the number of Philippine sardinella species cited in scientific publications has ranged from three to eleven. Using a combination of robust morphological and genetic metrics on specimens from across the Philippines, we at the NFRDI lab have confirmed the presence of six Sardinella, including the Taiwanese sardinella. 

Further, we have been able to quantify the genetic diversity of these sardines in relation to their geographic distribution across the archipelago—their phylogeographic pattern. Paralleling the region’s extraordinary level of marine biodiversity (the Philippines is at the apex of the Coral Triangle, the world’s epicenter of marine biodiversity), several of the sardine species show high degrees of genetic diversity, including exceedingly high diversity in one species that it is arguable a cryptic species complex. Cryptic species are morphologically identical (or at least highly similar) but genetically distinguishable sister species evolving from a common ancestor. Cryptic species are common in marine environments with a number of examples in corals, fish and invertebrates. Their accurate distinction is often only revealed through molecular genetic studies and intuitively, can aid in improved delineation of interbreeding stocks. 

Sardines at Navotas, Philippines

Demian A Willette

Lastly, in a survey of sardine species sold in metropolitan Manila fish markets, we documented the frequent availability of the freshwater sardinella Sardinella tawilis. Endemic to a single freshwater lake in the Philippines and revered as a culinary delicacy, this sardine’s population is currently declining under increased pressure from fishing, invasive species and aquaculture development of the lake. Upon gathering molecular data, we were surprised to discover that none of the market-sold fish were actually the freshwater sardinella as advertised, but rather one of several marine sardinella species. Markets were advertising and selling marine sardines as the freshwater species (the latter fetches a higher price), and consumers were unaware of the switch until our discovery through the use of molecular methods. Note that distinguishing sardinella species is difficult by even a trained scientist and it is unclear where in the supply chain marine fish were being substituted for the freshwater species. This, however, presents an interesting conservation situation—because marine sardines were being sold as the freshwater sardines, the market demand for the actual freshwater sardine is lower and may relieve fishing pressure on an already declining stock.  However, molecular evidence shows consumers are being misled.

In science, we are often intensely focused on the discrete objectives of a project, understandably so since they are what research funds have been allocated to. However, if we are rigorous in our investigation and allow the data to lead the discussion, the project not only yields the target information, but could also uncover unanticipated, yet welcome results. Results that are of particular value as we work to find an enduring balance between the exploitation and conservation of our marine resources. 

Demian A Willette is a post-doctoral researcher at the University of California, Los Angeles, USA, dwillett@odu.edu.

There is a clear belief in many conservation circles that protected areas cannot survive without the support of their neighbours. Protected areas’ neighbours are more numerous than their guards. If these poor rural neighbours want to collect firewood, graze their livestock or hunt wild animals then they will, often with impunity, and conservation will suffer. I call this belief ‘the principle of local support’.

The importance of local support has been observed in many instances, but it should not be built up to be a universal principle. There are occasions where it does not work, and we need to be wary of it for several reasons. First, the principle of local support assumes that the weak can obstruct the agendas of the strong. It ignores the fact that rural groups are often politically, militarily or financially weak. In contrast, conservationists can be relatively well-funded, well-connected, and well-armed. Second, the principle assumes that where rural people perceive they are being treated unfairly they will take effective action to achieve a more just distribution of resources.Ghazala Shahabuddin

This may be possible, but is in stark contrast to many instances around the world where inequality and injustice continue to be perpetrated regardless of opposition to them.

I outline a detailed case study from the Mkomazi Game Reserve in Tanzania, which shows how conservation can flourish despite local opposition. I argue that advocates of community conservation need to pay more attention to such so-called fortress conservation’s strengths and especially its powerful myths and representations.  

If conservation’s misfortunes are concentrated onto a relatively weak group it is quite possible for this inequity to be sustained. It is not existence of poverty or injustice that will cause problems for conservation, but their distribution within society. Understanding how inequality and unjust conservation are successfully perpetrated will make it easier to understand the politics of more participatory community conservation projects.

Originally published as :

Brockington, D. 2004. Community conservation, inequality and injustice: Myths of power in protected area management, Conservation and Society 2(2):411–432.

Daniel Brockington is a Senior Lecturer at the Institute for Development Policy and Management, University of Manchester (Daniel.Brockington@manchester.ac.uk).

The agricultural landscapes of India are filled with numerous wetlands that cater to multiple human needs such as irrigation, cattle grazing and fish harvest. These wetlands also provide crucial habitats for many resident and migratory bird species. Most of these wetlands are not protected under law, and bird conservation and management attempts are restricted only to large wetlands (e.g. Ramsar sites). The reasoning behind this approach is that large wetlands are likely to include all the species that smaller wetlands contain, and more, and therefore focusing on large wetlands gives ‘the biggest bang’ for the sparse conservation bucks. A recent study conducted by Sundar and Kittur in the cereal growing landscapes of north India questions this notion by showing that a landscape approach to bird conservation, where wetlands of various sizes occurring at varied densities are managed, in fact maximises returns on biodiversity conservation.

Wetlands of all sizes crucial for maintaining water bird diversity in agrarian landscapes

Deepthi Chimalakonda

The study tested whether large wetlands contain all species that are found in smaller wetlands. In other words, are species of smaller wetlands only subsets of the larger ones? Is this ‘nested pattern’, where smaller wetlands hold no unique species, dominant in this landscape?  If yes, managing only the large wetlands will be an efficient way to maximise conservation returns. On the contrary, if bird assemblages differ significantly among the wetlands, i.e. there is high ‘species turnover’ from one wetland to another, then a strategy that aims to find the best mix of small and large wetlands to conserve will be more effective.

Sundar and Kittur demonstrate that species richness of birds in agricultural wetlands is almost entirely maintained by species turnover rather than nestedness. Approximately 50% of the species in the landscape occurred only in one or two wetlands each. Species among the wetlands differ significantly and smaller wetlands contain species that are not found in larger ones.  At the same time, the study also showed that (IUCN classified) Near Threatened species such as the Oriental Darter and the Black-headed Ibis and Vulnerable species like the Sarus Crane preferred wetlands whose size is greater than the mean wetland size.  These results taken together strongly suggest that while larger wetlands are important for certain species of conservation importance, the smaller wetlands are equally important for maintaining species richness across the landscape.

Sundar K and S Kittur. 2013. Can wetlands maintained for human use also help conserve biodiversity? Landscape-scale patterns of bird use of wetlands in an agricultural landscape in north India. Biological Conservation 168:49-56.

Deepthi Chimalakonda is a research assistant at the Ecological Modelling and Economics Lab, National University of Singapore, Singapore, diptibharadwaj.l@gmail.com.

Marine Protected Areas are important for the conservation of aquatic ecosystems. These designated zones are actively managed to ensure protection of aquatic systems and species. One of the unintended consequences of such an ‘exclusive’ design is an unnaturally high concentration of animals within a specified area. Such a scenario is undoubtedly a success from wildlife abundance point of view. However, these high abundances can lead to habitat degradation and changes in key interactions between species’ and their ecosystem. The long term sustainability of such an ecosystem is therefore questionable.

Christianen and colleagues from the Netherlands, working around Derawan Island, a Marine Protected Area in Indonesia, studied how intense grazing by protected green turtles affected the ability of seagrass meadows to recover from such a grazing regime. From 2008-2011, green turtle density had increased to 20 individuals per hectare; the highest recorded globally. As a result, the turtles started using a previously undescribed feeding strategy consisting of digging underground for rhizomes and roots. Such a destructive approach led to a decline in the percentage of area covered by seagrass, increased erosion and caused a decline in seagrass regrowth over time. Below-ground grazing was found to impede the ability of the seagrass meadow to regenerate. The authors concluded that sustained grazing by such high densities of turtles could result in a system devoid of seagrass; thus threatening green turtle survival.

Do these results represent a success story for conservation or do they hint at an imminent collapse of an ecosystem? While increasing animal numbers is an indicator of success of conservation initiatives, we need to better understand the implications of such “successes” for the ecosystem. Perhaps we need to re-think the design and purpose of Marine Protected Areas. Food for thought, or have the turtles eaten it all?

Christianen, Marjolijn JA, Peter MJ Herman, Tjeerd J. Bouma, Leon PM Lamers, Marieke M. van Katwijk, Tjisse van der Heide, Peter J. Mumby et al. “Habitat collapse due to overgrazing threatens turtle conservation in marine protected areas.” Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences 281, no. 1777 (2014): 20132890.

Aparna Lal is a Post Doctoral Fellow in Infectious Disease Modelling, National Centre for Epidemiology and Population Health, Australian National University Canberra, aparnal49@gmail.com.

In this interview, the author of ‘Trees of Delhi’ narrates some of the challenges he faced while sharing the exciting moments in his pioneering work of the last six years, creating the Rao Jodha desert rock park. Centuries of degradation, grazing and neglect, followed by a misguided attempt to green the landscape with Prosopis juliflora, an invasive Mexican species had sent the native flora into retreat.  

JL: When did you start planting?

PK: 1 April 2006 was our start. We started the nursery a month or so earlier with a very contracted range of mostly trees and shrubs. We found a forest nursery with only about five species we could use. So we had April, May, June before the rains came. And we managed to grow some 14, 15 species. We chose a linear patch of about a hectare, where the thickest mesquite was, above the lake in Jaswant Thada , and we chose another three-quarters of a hectare near Ranisar. We said let’s just do all our learning and make all our mistakes in these two plots. That’s all we had time to clear, anyway. The Khandwalias removed the mesquite and we were shocked at how much soil we needed to fill the pits. We had donkeys going back and forth with panniers of soil. We were varying the soil mixtures so we could understand how soil affected things. We planted with these limited numbers of species but in fairly high numbers that first year.

JL: How many species have been planted?

PK: Probably just over a 100, by now. When we were numbering pits for the first three years, we crossed 7000 or 8000 large pits. I wouldn’t be able to say how many thousands now. If you count the little things, it goes into many, many thousands. Now we are getting more and more into the little things with a huge emphasis on grasses because all the big things, like trees and large shrubs, are already in place.

JL: Did you try to protect trees and plants from hares and porcupines?

PK: We’ve accepted hares, porcupines and pigs. The damage hasn’t been great. It’s not big enough for us to worry about. Wild boars were sometimes a problem. Feral dogs are sometimes a nuisance. If you have a pit with sandy or soft soil in the pit, this is an ideal place for them to litter and then the plant is quickly destroyed. We solved the problem by mulching with stone. If you raise the size of the aggregate, then dogs don’t want to nest there anymore.

Janaki Lenin

JL: Would you call mesquite a pioneer or an usurper in this landscape? 

PK: It’s both, it doesn’t have to be an either/or. Its seeds were scattered here from an airplane in the 1930s. Not just here but over an extensive part of the old kingdom of Jodhpur. You can assume that it was fairly evenly scattered, and that it found purchase only in those spots where it could find the cracks. So it starts as a pioneer and it doesn’t just out-compete other things, it secretes alkaloids in its root zone that discourage anything else from growing there. It practices allelopathy which is one of its strategies. So once it gets in, it creates a pure crop. It’s as invasive as you can get.

JL: It’s a pioneer for your planting. It told you where to plant.

PK: I always try to acknowledge that. In an ecosystem like this, if you were to give me a habitat shorn of mesquite and said, “Plant it up,” I’d be hard put to think of where to plant new things. Do you plant wherever you think there might be a little pocket of soil? Do you plant wherever you see a little bit of a crack? How do you identify the precise planting places? It’s not easy. But mesquite had done that work. It’s possible to make the assumption that mesquite had done all the basic work of finding out where it was possible to grow. In the places it was absent, it was too difficult to find purchase. We took the decision to follow mesquite’s lead casually but it turned out to be a very useful way of proceeding: only plant where mesquite has shown you it’s possible to grow.

JL: Did you face any unforeseen challenges besides the ones you anticipated before taking on this job?Janaki Lenin

PK: Well, you know what happens, you tend to start with a lot of bravado and then a moment of doubt creeps in. That first year we started, we had only a short lead time into the monsoon. When the Khandwalias cleared about 2 hectares of mesquite, suddenly this area which was thick with thorny mesquite was now reduced to empty pits. I thought, “Great! We’ve removed the mesquite but what if nothing else grows here? What if we don’t know how to do it? What if we don’t choose the right plants? We could end up with 70 hectares of pits and nothing to really take the place of mesquite.”That’s a scary thought! After all, you are not doing something that has a track record, you can’t consult people who’ve already done it. There are no books to learn from. We could fail! That was the big fear. Collecting plants, seeds, and germinating them had its problems but we overcame them. The biggest challenge is ahead of us, which is to grab the attention of people and excite them, engage them, with all that is enjoyable about this park. I think that is going to be a much more intractable problem. But it’s one I look forward to.

JL: This place was badly degraded from grazing and over-use. Is it possible that there was a top soil that was eroded?

PK: This part of Jodhpur is an outcrop of volcanic rock called rhyolite. Originally, many millions of years ago, the rhyolite would have been capped by sandstone. When did this all change? Who knows. What we do know is that wherever you see rhyolite in the desert today, it tends to have little or no top soil. Things that grow on rhyolite exploit the cracks and fissures in it. It is in those little linear cracks that you can get things growing. You’ve seen these huge euphorbias, which for us are one of the emblematic rock plants. We autopsied one to see what its root structure was like. It has a very thin fibrous root and it exploits the cracks by forming a fan-like structure. Thousands of extremely thin, fibrous roots that don’t penetrate very deep but add up to a huge surface area. So it is brilliantly adapted to living in the cracks of rhyolite. My initial assumption was that if a plant is not a tiny herbaceous thing, it would have to have deep roots. Thhor—Euphorbia caducifolia—showed me that it was possible to have lots of thin, fibrous roots that could be just as effective as long, penetrative roots.

The cracks are actually very good at conserving moisture. The thinner the crack, the better it is able to protect the little soil in it from drying out. No desiccating air can reach it. In the month of May, we have taken rocks apart and about three, three and half feet below, inside a hairline crack, lies moist sand. It’s astonishing.

JL: So you did an analysis of the plant’s root system and the rock to understand how the system works before you actually did planting.

PK: I won’t say ‘analysis’, I don’t think we had the scientific training or the tools. We just did our best to understand something that we had no previous understanding of. You are dealing with an ecosystem where plants have amazing resilience, they must have amazing adaptations. And you need to understand what those adaptations are. Obviously it varies. Succulence is the best known way of dealing with drought. But a lot of trees like Acacia senegal,which is the charismatic tree of rocky desert areas, doesn’t have any succulence at all. But it has the ability for its roots to penetrate the cracks. In unprotected rock, unless there are cracks, almost nothing can grow there. Some of our rocky hillocks in the Park are completely bare, there is nothing at all growing on them. Once we understood how cracks and soil work, we would take some of the heavier clayey soil and dust the hillocks, hoping that the soil would penetrate every little possible crack. So we were accelerating something that happens naturally. When the wind blows this is what is happening, anyway. A lot of little things, not just grasses, are very happy growing in cracks. There’s a plant called Seddera which grows in some of the most inhospitable places, it just anchors itself in the thin cracks and luxuriates. It’s a very beautiful little bushy plant. And often you’ll see it growing in these linear cracks along a line because that’s how the crack spreads. So it just follows that line beautifully. 

Janaki Lenin

JL: How did Professor M M Bhandari help you? What expertise did he bring?

PK: Bhandari sahib wrote ‘The Flora of the Indian Desert’ nearly 35 years ago. He is the taxonomic expert for plants in this part of the world. It was very important for us to rely on his expertise, especially in the beginning. For example, there are three kinds of Aerva, which are very important in the desert. Two of them tend to grow in sandy or gravelly habitats and only one will exploit rock, that too not as happily as it does in sand. They are quite hard to tell apart. It was terrific for us to be able to take it to him and ask “Doct saab, tell us how to distinguish between Aerva tomentosa and persica.” Or whatever!
On two occasions, we took him along on field trips out into the desert. He’d say, “I can’t walk at all, my knees are bad. I’ll have to stay in the car and direct you.” We wondered how this was going to work but his recall for physiographic features was amazing. He’d say, “Go around this hill, you’ll find a big rock and maybe it’s still splashed with vulture scat. Go down there and you’ll find some plants like this.” And invariably he was right! He’d done an enormous amount of exploring in his younger days, he was an excellent field botanist. To be able to count on his experience and knowledge of plants was a terrific advantage for us. His knowledge of the desert, the different kinds of microhabitats it has, and what you can expect to find in these areas was invaluable. He died last year. We are very sad we lost him because very often we come across something and we want to go to him. And now of course, we can’t.

JL: In the course of exploration, were there any tragedies? Like he had seen some plant twenty years ago and you go there and find the plant had disappeared.

PK: Not specifically. For example, there’s a plant called phog (Calligonum polygonoides). It is one of those wonderful desert plants that is now in retreat. Doct saab told us about attempts he had made in the past to tell the administration about conserving it and trying to make sure it doesn’t disappear. It is an important endemic plant in the desert. Becoming rare, but not endangered yet.

There’s a plant called Monsonia senegalensis. In our first year of collecting, we found 20 or 30 plants. We picked up three and they survived, they flowered and they even set fruit in the Jaswant Thada area. But it didn’t come up again the next year and we’ve never seen the plant again. It doesn’t mean the plant doesn’t exist. But we wouldn’t even know where to look for it now. We’ve kept our eyes peeled but haven’t seen it again. So we are going to have to discover it for ourselves afresh.

One of the great things about traveling with Doct saab was, for example, there’s a genus of small, weedy herbs called Tephrosia. Quite common. You can see it in Delhi on the Ridge. We passed through one sandy valley and we saw, from the distance, a grey-greenbush about seven or eight feet high. It turned out to be Tephrosia falciformis with beautiful large, bright pink flowers, only growing in that one little sandy valley. It seemed as if it was endemic to that one specific place. We managed to collect some seeds and propagate it. It is now growing in the visitor’s centre. This was one of the great joys of going out with with Bhandari saab. We could have learned all this by ourselves over thirty years, but of course he knew all this already. So it was wonderful. There’s only one other plant, other than Monsonia, that we haven’t been able to lay our hands on but we’ll get there. It’s a succulent called Caralluma edulis.

JL: What threatens some of these plants, like phog?Janaki Lenin

PK: Phog lives in salty sand so it’s a halophyte, not a crack-dweller. The threat to phog is twofold: one is that the flowers make the most delectable raita. They are collected especially by the women folk in all the outlying villages in the desert and they make this raita, which is just the most amazing thing. It flowers in February. But the wood has got high calorific value and is lopped for fuel wood. That’s the big threat to phog actually. It’s not that phog is intrinsically rare, it’s just in retreat and you can see whole areas have been stripped of it.

JL: Any charismatic plant that you haven’t been able to find?

PK: We were very keen to get Ephedra, the only gymnosperm in the desert. We found it and propagated it successfully from cuttings. Some of these plants are doing very well. But they haven’t flowered and fruited yet. So we are not doing something quite right. Maybe it takes some years to flower. But no, there is no charismatic desert plant that is not already here.

JL: When you did your inventory, how many species did you come up with?

PK: It’s a difficult question to answer. If you count all the grasses, all the little species, we’ve got between 170 and 190 species now. At 220, we should be bumping our heads against the ceiling. There are some grasses we still need to collect. The challenge now is not so much looking for new species as much as learning how to work with species we know, especially grasses. 

JL: Why is that?

PK: For aesthetic reasons. I want to be able to try and work with grasses like you paint with colours in a palette. They have beautiful textures, especially when seenen masse. Because grasses grow in groups, and not individually, you can actually do swathes, and you can have them mingle in particular ways and you can literally–well, maybe not quite literally paint with them. People in other parts of the world practice prairie-style planting in large meadows. We don’t have meadows here, but along the trails I want to work with grasses in special ways so the trails themselves become places of great beauty. The thing with grasses is, once you know exactly how to handle them, they respond so quickly. We need to learn lots more about them. We need to know not just how they grow and prosper, but also how they die. What becomes of them when they turn golden and brown. That’s an important part of the visual palette. I think grasses are the most exciting prospect for the future.

JL: When you were trying to figure out how to plant this area, you said you explored other rocky terraces. Give me an example of places you visited.

PK: One of the best known rocky areas is around Barmer town, about 200 kilometres away from here. A lot of the outcrops are unnamed places along the road. We’d literally set off and see a rocky area and drive towards it. At the right time of year, we’d pick up things we din’t know, press and take them back to Jodhpur. We’d take them to Dr Bhandari or look them up in his book. The rocky outcrops tend to be places where nobody is likely to farm and they tend not to be inhabited. The places that are sometimes inhabited are the slightly more gravelly piedmonts at the base of hills. Many of them don’t have names. Rocky parts are, in some ways, the poor cousins, parts of deserts that are not intrinsically valued for any reason. Not for water, not for soil, not for farming, not for anything.

Janaki LeninJL: Why did you have to go 200 kilometres? What’s special about Barmer?

PK: Two or three different kinds of rocks for a start and very extensive rock.Very steep and relatively unspoilt hills. A convenient place to stay close by, in Barmer town.

JL: What discovery of plant during your exploration was the most exciting?

PK: The plant that gave me the most pleasure was a clonal forest. There’s a plant called Anogeissus sericea variety nummularia.We were driving to Nagaur, and in the distance we saw what looked like roughly 150-200 old, gnarled trees covering about three hectares. When we went close by, it was riven by seasonal nallahs with a small lake in the middle which was more or less dry. The soil was filled with lime granules. All these trees were very old and quite badly lopped for fodder. Very beautiful leaf structure. We didn’t know what it was and had to look it up. There was not a single young plant as you’d expect in a forest of that kind. I suspected it was a clonal forest. I can’t say for sure because I haven’t done a DNA test. But the chances are very high as the forest was propagated by suckers. It is one giant organism. It’s when the idea hits you that you realise, “Oh my God! You’ve got a huge, huge organism here.” We know that other species of Anoigeissus also form clonal forests, like pendula. So it is very likely this is doing the same thing. That was very exciting for me. We managed to use some of the suckers to make vegetative cuttings and reproduce them. So we have got some of these growing in the park. 

I loved seeing Tephrosia falsiformis in that sandy valley because they are very beautiful. Because we don’t have sand in our park, we created one small sandy plot in one small part. We dug down and created a bowl, and trucked in salty sand to create a sandy exhibit. The other plant I really enjoyed discovering was Moringa conkanensis.I saw it for the first time growing on the crest of a sand dune. From a distance I wondered what it was. I asked a local and he named another desert tree which it didn’t resemble at all. We stopped the jeep, walked to the top of the hill. It turned out to beMoringa.At that stage it was almost completely bare, with very corky bark but its roots had been completely exposed because the sand dune had shifted. Clearly it had roots that ran many metres long. Some of the roots were sticking out like elbows. Subsequently, we’ve seen it in flower. Very beautiful. They are pure white with a beautiful tinge of pink. In our field guide, there is a photograph of them and I’ve said they are like birds in flight.

JL: So propagating plants wasn’t a challenge?

PK: Propagating has not been a challenge. There are a few species, may be just about four or five species that Vinod says, “I’ve managed to germinate them but I don’t know how to keep them alive.” Something is not right about how we’re doing it. We are trying to understand why this happens. We know that die-back is very important in the desert. Usually what happens is that a plant invests so much energy in its root zone that it can often look dead above ground. That’s when a gardener will typically say, “Oops! This one’s gone,” and chuck it away. So you have to be careful not to chuck away plants that look dead but aren’t really dead. 

JL: Tree planters talk of scouring seed coats with acid, or eroding it on a hard surface before planting. Are there strategies like that you use?

PK: Yeah. Herbaceous plants have one very successful strategy which doesn’t involve any kind of physiological adaptations to the ecosystem. Instead, they live very short lives in that little window of opportunity when there is moisture in the soil. And the strategy involves rushing through their life cycle, producing hard-coated seeds, dropping them just as conditions become adverse and those seeds then remain in the ground until the next rains come. With these seeds, you basically need to soften the seed coat. We’ve never needed to use acid, but sometimes you just need to rub them on sand paper. Very often it’s enough to leave them in water overnight. At worst, pour boiling water on them and that will soften the seed-coat enough. People know how to handle the bigger leguminous things, like acacias, for example. There are no secrets there, really.

JL: Does anything have to pass through the gut of an animal?

PK: We haven’t found a recalcitrant seed yet that’s that difficult.

JL: You mentioned that Farsetiawas so endangered that it was found in only one place in India. Is there any plan to rehabilitate it like taking it out into the wild and repopulating the landscape?

PK: There should be. We got just a few plants of Farsetiaand in theory we could be thinking of rehabilitation. One of the problems is that if you plant anything in an unprotected area, it’s very hard to have any kind of reasonable confidence that it will survive on its own. So it’s a tricky thing. Often you’ll need to look after a plant for a few months at least. That’s hard to do. You are talking of sites 200-300 kilometres away. You’d have to look after it for three months, four months. That’s hard to do long distance.You were saying that Barmer was fairly remote. What would affect a plant in such a remote area that it’s in retreat? You’d have to know what the dangers were, what if anything was foraging on it. In our experience if you put the plant in the ground, if it is being introduced and it is not just coming up from seeds then there is certain amount of looking after that you have to do. If you don’t do, you are really minimising the chances of its survival.

Janaki Lenin

JL: Have you tried seeding a place?

PK: We’ve never been able to get Farsetiaseeds in that quantity. At best, we get about 10 seeds a year. Some don’t germinate. Quantities are too small.

JL: Grasses?

PK: Absolutely.

JL: Now that the park is open, what about the local people? How are you going to bring them into the picture?

PK: Don’t really have specific plans yet. It’s clearly very, very important for us to try and get this right. What we’ve already started doing, over nearly two years ago, is to engage with people from a residential area called Brahmpuri who walk through the park. They have a gate that leads directly into the Park. We want them to feel they can do this, that they are not being excluded. So whenever I’ve had an opportunity of meeting somebody, I’ve often tried to engage them in conversation, tell them what we are doing, make them understand the whole point of it. Many of them feel a tie with the land that goes back generations. They say “My father used to come here, my grandfather used to come here. We used to sit here.” We want to encourage that, we want it to be an important part of what we’re doing. One of the things I’m very keen on doing but don’t know how to do yet is to institute a system of voluntary guides or ‘docents’. Some people think the docent system may not work here. When you have a good docent system, you are tapping into reservoirs of enthusiasm that can be very infectious. If we can do that, it would be one of our best strategies to protect ourselves from the damage that people who are hostile to the park can possibly do. We have a temple next to us. The moment they are hostile to us and hostile to the park, we need to disarm that. We need to make them feel part of it. It’s not going to be easy. It’s not something I think I’m very good at. So we may need to bring other people to come in and do this for us. Other than the interpretation centre, we want to have a really good guiding system in place. 

JL: Is there a way of taking the park out of the park? It’s also a conservation area. You don’t want a lot of people trudging up and down. So is there a way of taking it out of the confines of the park itself ?

PK: I don’t know. Of course what we want to do is confine people to trails which are clearly marked. I think the big challenge is how do you make something that people will respect, won’t treat as something that is not worthy of respect. When you are growing native plants, the problem often is that people will go through the landscape and will say, “What is this? Just jungly things?” With local people that’s often the problem. I don’t know how this is going to work really. I think guiding is really one of the keys. Vinod, for example. He himself is so enthusiastic, he’s telling people about the butterflies, the medicinal properties of the plants, their local uses and it’s very infectious. I’d love to institutionalise it, somehow.

Janaki Lenin is a freelance writer with a special interest in wildlife and conservation issues, janaki@gmail.com.

HS: What is the idea behind this annual fish count?

PDR: This is an activity planned mainly to bring the fisher community closer to fisheries experts, students, and the general public. ATREE went to Vembanad at a time when the local people were worried about the burgeoning backwater tourism and the lake pollution caused by it. The fisherfolk were more concerned because it was affecting the fishery and alienating their traditional fishing grounds. To make any conservation intervention a success, one has to first gain the confidence of the traditional stakeholders, in this case the fisherfolk. Our first challenge was to win their trust. They are a traditional community, who were always skeptical about outside people. They were not antagonistic, but they were not willing to take any outsider into trust. They denounced research: ‘Many people come, do research and go, but how are we benefited?’. It is true what the local people were telling. There are several scientists and institutions working and several large research studies implemented, but not even basic water quality data was available to the people. So rather than getting into any active research at the start, we decided that what Vembanad required was some action to empower people to regain their rights to the lake. The fish count is only one among many activities that ATREE initiated in Vembanad. Our main intention behind the fish count was to create awareness about the state of fishery. We also wanted to convince them about the importance of this kind of scientific data collection for their own benefit. The first count was conducted in 2008. This year, on 23rd and 24th May, we conducted the seventh successive edition of the count. A number of agencies and individuals participate in this event – Kerala University for Fisheries and Oceanic Sciences, Saint Albert’s college in Ernakulam, Environmental Science Department of M G University, Kerala State Biodiversity Board, the Casino Group of Hotels, Vembanad Nature Club, volunteers and most importantly, the fisherfolk themselves.

HS: Let’s step back a bit from the fish count and talk about Vembanad; why was ATREE interested in Vembanad in the first place? 

PDR: I would put it differently: it was really the interest or passion of individuals for the conservation of theses backwaters which ATREE encouraged and facilitated. SD Shibulal, who was then the Chief Operating Officer (later CEO) of Infosys, hails from the village of Muhamma in Alapuzzha district, on the banks of Vembanad. He made an offer to ATREE: if ATREE is ready to do something for the conservation of Vembanad backwaters he will provide the funding. I was born and brought up near the backwaters and my neighbourhood—the Ashtamudi backwaters—had a major influence in shaping me as an ecologist and conservationist. My early conservation years, when I was in UG and PG, were all linked to these backwaters. When an opportunity to do something for the conservation of the backwaters came up, I was not in a position to back out. My colleagues Seema Purushothaman and MC Kiran, who also hail from Kerala and shared my interest, also joined the team.  We did a reconnaissance survey in 2006 and started the programme in 2007. 

HS: Tell us a little more about Vembanad. Why was there a need for a conservation intervention in Vembanad? 

PDR: I think that Vembanad is more important than even the Himalayan glaciers. It is so unique. It maybe the only place on earth where cultivation happens below mean sea level and thousands of people live a semi-submerged existence for part of the year. It supports a highly productive agricultural system – Kuttanad, the ‘rice bowl of Kerala’—spread over 1,100km2 in a reclaimed portion of the lake. If you consider the livelihood support provided by Vembanad, it is next only to that provided by the Arabian Sea. Most of these livelihoods, be it fishing, farming, coir industry, clams, duck farming or more recently tourism, all depend on the water and the quality of water in the lake. 

Vembanad is also important for its biodiversity. It is a Ramsar site and an Important Bird Area. A lot of migratory birds come to the eastern side of lake. There are a few small islands which have very good vegetation diversity. The fishery resources are also quite high here. In fact ours is not the first fish survey. In 1979 and 1984 Dr BM Kurup conducted surveys and documented more than 150 fish species. But in our surveys we documented only 71 species. We believe that the reduction in diversity has to do with the building of the Thanneermukkom barrage in early 70s. The barrage was built to reduce salinity entering to the southern side of the lake, to aid rice cultivation. Before the barrage came up the lake used to include both freshwater and marine species; but now very few marine migrants reach the lake.  

The barrage has changed the ecology of the lake. Many freshwater species require some salinity for breeding – the best example is the giant freshwater prawn (Macrobrachium rosenbergii ); there are also some local eels. Similarly, there are some marine species, like shrimps, that require freshwater for breeding. The barrage poses problems for such animals. 

The barrage has also caused another problem: saline water helps flush the lake, keep it clean and prevent excess nutrients accumulating in it. After the barrage came up, this flushing happens less frequently. This problem is compounded by agricultural runoff. Once the monsoon floods recede, water is pumped out of the fields, to do rice cultivation, rather than into the fields as is done elsewhere. This causes heavy influx of fertilizers which results in proliferation of water hyacinth and other weeds. 

So the major issue we wanted to address was the declining water quality and the associated loss in diversity and fish resources. But the first challenge to overcome was the lack of baseline data. 

A public display board with information on water quality

HS: Getting back to the fish count, can you tell us what actually happens during the count? 

PDR: The fish count serves two purposes: first, it is an awareness campaign about the state of fishery resources and lake conservation issues. But at the same time, we follow a strict scientific protocol; so at least over one day every year we get some data. The fish count operates in three cruises, each covering different parts of the lake in such a way that the entire lake gets covered. 30-60 people are assigned to each cruise team. Each team has a captain and includes fisheries experts, fisheries students – for whom this is probably the only chance for direct experience with fisherfolk and the lake – and, most importantly, the fisherfolk themselves. We also invite the general public from across the country to volunteer in the fish count; this year we had volunteers from Bangalore, Coimbatore, Chennai and other places in the south. Different tasks are assigned to members of the team – helping the fisherfolk cast nets, identifying species, counting the fish, maintaining a checklist, documentation etc. Along each cruise route we count fish at five pre-decided points using three different methods—cast net, gill nets and hand nets. This way all the strata of the lake get covered. There is enough work for everyone to do because by the time the teams reach Alappuzha they have to be ready with the date to present. In fact, even before we reach Alappuzha the press people start calling us—”What are the results?” Give us the count. You know how the press is! We have to do some analysis and refine it later, but the first-hand data is presented immediately at the valedictory meeting. And the next day it is in the local newspapers. From this year India Biodiversity Portal is also partnering with the fish count. An informatics person from IBP was present in each cruise and the observations were immediately uploaded to the portal. So now there is a quicker dissemination of the data. To our knowledge, ours is the only information available about fishery resources of Vembanad in last 2-3 decades.

HS: Apart from counting fish, what other information do you collect on these cruises? 

AMG: Water quality sampling, other environmental conditions, sightings of birds and mammals like otters.

PDR: We also collect data from the fish landing centres. There are two landing centres in the area where the fisherfolk come very early in the morning with their catch. We station the volunteers there the previous night itself to collect data straight from the fisherfolk’s baskets. 

HS: What have been some of the important findings of the counts done so far?

PDR: Like I already mentioned, our counts have shown that fish diversity has reduced dramatically, from 150 species during 70s-80s to 70 species now. There is a decline in the carnivorous fishes and there has been an increase in omnivores. We have been noticing a gradual reduction in freshwater puffer fish since our first count in 2008. There has been a recent proliferation of the freshwater sponge Spongilla lacustris, a climate indicator, which is a cause of worry for the fisherfolk. On the positive side, our surveys have also documented some interesting, rare species in the lakes. I will send you the report with all the details. You know that by profession I am an entomologist, not a fish expert. The Vembanad project is my interest or passion, although it is a passion that has taken up almost 50% of my time in the last six years. 

Important findings of the report

Two fin fish species Ophiosternon begalensis (Bengal eel) & Eleotris fusca (Dusky sleeper) were recorded from the landscape for the first time.

Five exotic species— Pterygoplichthys multiradiatus (Sucker catfish), Catla catla (Catla), Labeo rohita ( Rohu) Oreochromis mossambicus (Tilapia) and Pangasious suchi (Suchi catfish) were recorded.

Two rare fishes, Angailla bicolor (an eel species) and Channan diplogramma (Malabar snakehead) were recorded for the first time in the 2014 count.

A sharp decline in the population of the dwarf puffer Carinotetraodon travancoricus was noticed. This species comprised ~90% of the catch in 2008 but only 2% in 2009 and was very rare or absent in subsequent years.

Krishna Kumar K and Priyadarsanan Dharma Rajan, 2012. Fish and Fisheries in Vembanad Lake: Consolidated report of Vembanad Fish count 2008- 2011, pp 50. (pub. Community Environment Resource Centre (CERC), Ashoka Trust for Research in Ecology and the Environment (ATREE), Alappuzha, Kerala, India).https://www.vembanad.org/wp-content/themes/atree/docs/vfc_2008-2011.pdf.