A search for Olive Ridley turtles in Odisha can throw up many surprises. While they could not be traced, Joydev Sengupta encounters a number of crocodiles, along with some rare and not-so-rare birds, during his visit to Bhitarkanika and Chilka lake
Odisha is home to two of the country’s best-known wildlife destinations: Bhitarkanika, known for the nesting of the Olive Ridley turtles, and Chilka lake for its avian population. Our trip to these two destinations was a mixed bag; the turtles were yet to arrive at Bhitarkanika, but Mangalajodi (near the lake) was a huge discovery for us personally.
According to Hindu mythology, all departed souls must compulsorily cross the Baitarani river to enter heaven. Crossing the river on the earth, however, leads to Bhitarkanika National Park which for a wildlife lover is no less than heaven. Garhimatha within Bhitarkanika is, of course, known the world over as one of the places where the arribadas take place — that is, the Olive Ridley turtles nest in large numbers and lay their eggs on the beaches. Unfortunately, while this spectacle alone would have justified a trip to Bhitarkanika, access to Garhimatha is restricted as far as the general public goes, and during the time we were in Odisha, the Olive Ridley turtles had not arrived at Rushikulya, the destination being promoted by Odisha Tourism as the destination to see turtles. We consoled ourselves with thoughts of the rest of the wildlife we would see, and we were not disappointed.
Bhitarkanika houses a saltwater crocodile breeding programme, a fair measure of its success being the many crocodiles one sees in its waters. For those used to seeing crocodiles in other national parks across India, the sheer size of some of them in Bhitarkanika will be a surprise. Two of these large ones identified as Kaalia and Bolia — by the boat crew — were found sunning themselves at their usual location. Kaalia apparently was easily identifiable because of a missing limb, lost while fighting with another crocodile; Bolia was distinctive because of its huge size. Maybe it was just our hyperactive imagination, but the only crocodile which took time to slip into the water upon our approach was Kaalia, something we were quick to attribute to the missing limb. It is also not unusual to see a large number of baby crocodiles sunning themselves on the sand banks, hopefully a sign that its population is well and thriving.
For those interested in birds, the kingfishers are easily spotted. We managed to spot five different species within one day, sighting the Black-capped kingfisher more often than the others. Unusually, the Black-capped and the Brown-winged kingfishers were visible more often than the White-breasted and the common kingfisher. Generally, it is the other way around. The most heartwarming encounter for us was with the Brown-winged kingfisher. Found in a handful of countries in the world, the Sundarbans and Bhitarkanika are among the only places in India where one can see them, and that too in very small numbers. The bird is increasingly facing habitat destruction and is today classified in the near-threatened category. To be able to see the Brown-winged kingfisher twice in two days, that too sitting on a tree, was a welcome change from the Sundarbans where this bird would repeatedly hide itself amongst the foliage at the slightest hint of human interest in it.
The mangroves, of course, support smaller life forms as well, and the fiddler crabs with their one long limb were difficult to miss. More fascinating were the mudskippers which, though classified as fishes, are often seen on the mudflats. Seeing humans approach, the mudskippers would repeatedly dive into their holes, sliding in backwards, tail first into the holes.
One could not help but notice the confiding nature of the birds and animals at Bhitarkanika, as opposed to the very same species in the Sundarbans. The latter seems to attract more tourists, and it is not uncommon to see a multitude of boats crossing the narrow waterways. A manifestation of this large human presence could be felt in the behaviour of the birds and animals inasmuch as the crocodiles in the Sundarbans would slip into the water even when the boats were far away. The Bhitarkanika crocodiles would allow the boat to get a lot closer before they slipped into the water, as did the White-bellied Sea Eagles which in the Sundarbans flew even as we were more than a kilometre away.
Chilka lake arguably ranks among the country’s top wildlife destinations, an accolade entirely due to its large and varied bird population. An avian paradise, this lake was declared a RAMSAR site in October 1981.
The most important site for bird-watching within the lake was said to be the Nalban Bird Sanctuary, an island within the lake, approachable only by boat. Nalban is today a restricted area, with tourists generally banned from stepping on the island, unless they have prior permission from the authorities. Bird-watching around the area is, therefore, restricted, with visitors confined to watching the birds from far. For us, this was a disappointment because when destinations such as Nalban were promoted in the media, the restricted access should also be communicated to potential visitors beforehand. We were told about this after we arrived at the Barkul Panthaniwas.
The lake itself, however, had its own surprises in store for us. Far away at a distance, some flamingos foraged for food. There was some talk about how there are lesser numbers of flamingos visiting Chilka these days, so we were thankful for the 15-odd birds we saw. Unfortunately for us, they kept moving away as we approached. Similar was the case with the Bar-headed geese which breed in ladakh but seem to be wintering in the milder climes of Chilka. Among the birds of prey, the Brahminy kites were difficult to miss as they perched near the fishing nets, intermittently darting into the waters to pick up fish. Oddly enough, possibly because the Brahminy kites fished in proximity of human beings and their nets and were thus used to human presence, they permitted us to get really close to them. The fishing nets were an eyesore, spread all over the lake. The authorities also need to consider taking steps to clean the lake since the sprouting weeds made movement within the lake an issue.
The highpoint of our journey to Chilka was not Nalban but a small village hamlet called Mangalajodi. Mangalajodi is a part of Chilka but consists of vast tracts of marshy land, within which there are water channels. These water channels crisscross the marshes, and are a great way to see the birdlife there. During the monsoons, the marshes are covered by water, and after the rainy season, a number of birds lay eggs at this place. For us, the spectacle started at the approach to the marshes itself as we saw a Purple Heron swallow a water snake. The Grey-headed lapwing, difficult to see anywhere else, was roaming about. The Pacific Golden Plover, another difficult-to-spot migrant, foraged about the vegetation. Further down the water channels, the Bluethroat, the Ruddy-breasted Crake and the Black-tailed godwits all milled about in numbers. The pratincoles peeped out of little holes in the ground, while a kingfisher vigorously shook its head to kill a fish it had caught, one that seemed to be way too large for it to manage. Oddly enough, the once ubiquitous sparrows are apparently rarer than ever before, and rarer in fact than some of the more exotic species available in the marshes. According to our guide, there were only a handful of sparrows left in the village, and even these were seen with some difficulty.
Mangalajodi is a great story about conservation where a group of former poachers were convinced into giving up poaching and tasked with protecting the birds instead. The boatmen and the guide who took us around the marshes were apparently poachers at one time, who once killed for food and for selling the bird meat in the market. Interestingly, their past as poachers gives them an edge in protecting the wildlife. Our guide, for example, mentioned that he knew about the areas that poachers would target to gain an entry, and how he could identify poachers from their behaviour in the marshes. A particularly heartening development was the very same guide who claimed to have killed every known species of bird for food was to set off for the marshes to study the behaviour of some of the birds, when we landed up at the village seeking a guide. From killing to conserving wildlife, it has been a long journey for which future generations would thank him and others like him.
The writer is a Delhi-based wildlife enthusiast