Of Crabs, Starfishes and Stingrays

In the crisp clear darkness of the pre-dawn sky a million lights loom large. This is the Jamnagar Refinery simply put, the biggest petroleum refinery in the world. It is one of the few places in the world where you can truly appreciate what big really means.

A steady stream of tankers and trucks streams in and out of the refinery as we have a cup of tea at a stall outside its gates. We seem to be the only people having a cup of tea as everyone else is having it out of saucers. This part of Gujarat seems to like its tea in exactly that fashion. The refinery is however not our destination. We're headed to Narara, gateway to one of the most unique wildlife reserves in India - The Marine National Park.

The Gujarat coast off the Gulf of Kutch is one of the most unique ecosystems in the world and its rocky beaches, sandy shoals and coral islands offer a unique insight in to the rich aquatic life with having to dive, snorkel or even head off-shore. We arrive at the park gates just as the eastern horizon is lighting up. The watchman who doubles up as the guide is expecting us and we head straight to business.

We've chosen our arrival here carefully as the access to the park is governed by the coming and going of tides. As the sky turns blue, the receding tide opens the vast expanses for us. Apart from the four of us, the only sign of life are the odd storks and plovers picking mussels left behind by the tide.

As we entered slightly deeper water little splashes betrayed the positions of some of the most prolific predators in these parts.  Several crab species were spotted but the most interesting were the aggressive Neptune Crabs (Grapsus intermedius) and the Hairy Crabs (Pilumnus vespertilio).

In fact the entire stretch of water we were wading through was full of life. Our guide pointed out at least 11 species of coral, 3 species of sea anemone, 2 species of star fish and 2 species of sea slugs among others.

We waded through what seemed like a a forest of kelp. Every leaf, every rock, coral or crevice had a surprise for us. It was quite simply magical. But as the initial euphoria of being part of such a wonderful eco-system wore down, a different feeling took over.

Every step we took, we seemed to disturb something. Our arrival surprised a Brittle Star sunning itself on some exposed kelp. A puffer fish startled by our splashing feet puffed itself in self defense finding itself surrounded by three giants. What looked like rocks were living, breathing coral. Even the sand underneath our feet seemed upset at being shuffled.A curious Stingray however, did not seemed perturbed by us. It swam in circles around us, darting between our feet - quietly confident in the power of the brutal sting in its tail.

We had had enough - imagine someone walking into your home first thing into the morning. Stomping on your bed while you are still in it, spilling the food from the spoon while you're eating, leaving muddy footprints on your white marbled floor. I am sure the animals were feeling the same way despite us being as careful as we could. As much as we enjoy being out in the wild, this just did not feel right.

Back on the shore, molluscs had drawn curious patterns on the wet sand - nature's own art form. We had experienced one of the greatest spectacles on earth. But we weren't sure if we ever wanted to do it again.

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Normally I would have left details on how to get to the Marine National Park. As much as I have loved to share my experience with you all, I strongly believe that is not the right way to experience nature. This is akin to violation and there is next to nothing to prevent idiots from spoiling this fragile ecosystem. I urge the Gujarat Government to disallow tourists from walking in to the coral reefs and work with conservationists to come up with safer alternates for nature lovers to enjoy the treasures of the Marine National Park

Notes from the Rann

The dusty, bumpy road from Morbi gives way to smooth tarmac at Halvad and our GSRTC bus soon pulls in to the dusty town of Dhrangadhra. The princely state it once ruled commanded a 13 gun salute. Today it is just one of those blink and you miss places. Not for us though - we are here to explore the Little Rann of Kutch and a sturdy Mahindra Commander Jeep waits for us outside the bus stand. The driver, Hajibhai soon has us speeding along the bumpy country road - our stomachs are grumbling in the late afternoon.

Keekar, Babool and other shrubs of the arid desert country dot the landscape and all of a sudden give way to a lush green patch watered by Narmada canal. It is dry once again as we pull in to Jogad village, where our host - the affable Devjibhai Dhamecha awaits. Photographer, Naturalist, Tour Operator and All round good guy, Devjibhai is an authority on the salty desert known as the Rann of Kutch. His little property, the Eco Tours Camp is the perfect launchpad for forays into the Rann.

But first thing first - lunch! While we check into our spartan, but comfortable 'Kooba' huts, a simply homely meal is laid out. Over the meal Devjibhai briefs us about the surrounding landscape, wildlife and salt trade which is the chief economic activity in these parts. Within a few minutes it is clear that all the stories that we had heard about the man are more than true.

Later in the evening, we head out to a nearby watering hole where local wildlife comes to drink around sunset. The hour long wait results in nothing. We cross the road and head towards a thicket where we suspect our luck will change.And it does - I climb a mound of salt and immediately catch a glimpse of our elusive quarry. But the flash of brown and white disappears in the bushes and light fails soon.

Next morning we're up early and a quick chai later we are motoring along the salt flats. It isn't long before we come face to face with a herd of Khur -  the animal we've come this far too see. A species of wild ass, the Khur is critically endangered and the Rann of Kutch is the last place on earth where these beautiful animals can be seen. Loss of habitat and encroachment of their range by humans and domesticated cattle have seen their number dwindle to a few thousand.

A little further, we come across another bunch of Khur - waiting out on the salt flats. Occupying their grazing ground is a herd of domesticated cattle. Even in their last refuge - a so called protected sanctuary they are being squeezed out slowly. The locals can't help it either - strong winds remove the fertile top soil and seawater intrusion during the rains leaves the soil and water saline. Denudation of natural vegetation means that very little land is left for agriculture and grazing. And it is the humans and their flock that win the battle invariably.

We come across the incredible sight of a marooned boat in the middle of the desert. Devijibhai tells us that the seawater intrusion in the monsoon provides another opportunity to the locals to supplement their livelihoods. The water is seeded with marine life which thrives during the rains and then later farmed. Shrimps and small fish are the chief catch. The forest department discourages this shrimping but the vast tracts of the Rann are simply too big for it to police.

The biggest threat however is the mushrooming of the salt pans in the Rann. The salt contractors increasingly encroach on the scant grassland leading to the disturbance of wildlife. The Great Indian Bustard was once found aplenty here, but Devjibhai confirms that it is rarely seen now. A few friends of mine had toured these parts looking for the and they too returned empty handed.

With little or no income from agriculture and increasing competition from cheap, migrant labour the local populace falls easy prey to the salt companies. Overworked, exploited and underpaid - the salt pan workers toil in the blazing sun for meagre returns. 

In a cruel twist of fate, the little agriculture that survives is now under threat from the Khur themselves. Under pressure from man and cattle, incidents of Khur attacking standing crops in search of food are increasing. The locals for the moment are content with shooing the wild animals away, but one wonders how long before the first shot is fired or the first wild ass is poisoned?

With these questions, we step on to what is known as the White Rann - the pristine salt covered flatland that is features on virtually every tourist brochure or postcard on these parts. It is a vista straight out of Star Wars - Tattooine is what comes to mind.

It is the beginning of the dry season - and soil under the salt is still soft. The first foray by a vehicle into these parts was only made the previous day - a forest department Jeep drove all the way to a nearby 'Bet' or island to set up a watchtower. The Bets are nothing but patches of high ground that are marooned in the monsoon and repopulated in the dry weather. We towards one, but our Jeep gets bogged down in the mush. It takes all of the engine's the 72 horse power and the strength of three men to push it out. We return, but the sight of three clay figurines alone in the empty Rann remain with me. As the sun sets, the Khur return to the sanctuary of the bushes - they will venture out again in the night. An uneasy calm prevails in the Jeep.

Gazillions of crickets shatter the quiet of the night. Under a starry blanket we wonder about the future of this unique but increasingly fragile Eden. A shooting star wheels overhead. Our wish is not a secret

The Battle of Lakhota Lake

Lakhota Lake, Jamnagar - March 14 1755 hrs

The day is drawing to a close. The sun inching closer to the horizon. Birds are flocking back to the trees surrounding the lake. Flocks of Mallards, Teals and Moorhens are swimming gracefully in the still waters. The lake's resident Pelicans are out feeding too - swimming in semi-circular formations to herd fish and diving in sync to pluck out any unlucky fish caught in their trap.

 There is a splash and one of the Pelicans steers away from the group. From our vantage point, we can clearly make out that he has caught something big. The rest of the group are not going to let the fellow get away with such rich spoils and make their way after him.

1800 hrs - A furious battle is underway - wing against wing, mandible against mandible. It's three against one and our man virtually has his neck caught in the beak of his attacker. He continues to fight and hold on. It is summer, the water levels in the lake are precariously low. Such catches are hard to come by, so the fight is worth it.



1805 hrs But it isn't the only battle that he is fighting. Caught in its pouch is a huge catfish and it has no intention of becoming anyone's meal. The fish, at least a foot long is thrashing about wildly in the pouch and thwarting any effort made by the Pelican to swallow it.

1807 hrs - It has been more than ten minutes that the Pelican bagged the Catfish, but the battle continues to rage. Every time the Pelican tries to swallow the fish, it curls up making it impossible for the bird to gulp it down. There are going to be no free meals.

1815 hrs: No one has given up. The Pelican is trying every trick in the book to swallow its fat catch. And the fat catch is trying every trick it knows to stay alive. The unlucky ones are in hot pursuit, not having given the hope of stealing a meal.

1818 hrs : Things are getting desperate. The attacks continue from every side, the fish battling away as well. But the doughty fellow is beating every attack. He is tougher than we thought, but surely he must be weary. Something has got to give!

1820 hrs : For a second, the attackers pause. That is all the opportunity that is needed. Our chap makes a might effort to steer clear of his pursuers and in the same move takes a mighty gulp. Success at last! The fish and the marauders have been defeated.

1821 hrs : The battle over, the victorious Pelican flaps his enormous wings in style while the rest are left to lick their wounds and get back to finding a square meal for themselves. Mother Nature has just taken 25 minutes to teach us the meaning of 'Survival of the Fittest.'