Paradise Lost? A Similipal Story

This article of mine was originally published in the Sanctuary Asia magazine's June 2009 issue

A majestic tusker walks down the Devasthali meadow, Upper Barhakamuda Range, Similipal Tiger Reserve

I sat huddled over the dying embers, listening to the trumpeting of irate elephants and hooves of jittery sambar deer. Within an hour, I knew, the moonlit forest would be swept by a dense shroud of fog. Suddenly, barely 200 m. away, I heard a noise that warmed me to the core, despite the 4 ºC chill- the roar of a tiger. As I watched, the elephants responded by bunching even tighter together to keep their young safe from attack. It was magical. For over 30 minutes, I listened quietly to the hypnotic calls of the tigress. I felt no fear, just awe. Such were the sounds that dominated the Earth before humans came to dominate all else.

That was January 2009 and I was in the Devasthali Beat House in the Upper Barhakamuda range of the Simlipal Tiger Reserve, as part of a tiger estimation being conducted by the Forest Department involving NGOs like Wild Orissa, NEWS, Angul and the North Orissa University, Baripada. A report by the Wildlife Institute of India had suggested a worrying figure of less than 30 tigers, and we wanted to verify this.

We walked through the best parts of Simlipal for a week, starting early each morning to traverse paths known to be frequented by tigers. At strategic spots, ‘Pugmark Impression Pads’ or ‘PIPs’ had been laid, and we would stop at each such point to look for animal tracks. If we saw tiger or leopard tracks we traced it and made a plaster cast. We would average around 20 km. a day, returning to the beat house, mine overlooking a meadow, for lunch. There were a few saltlicks in the meadows and these encouraged wild animals to concentrate near the Devasthali beat house throughout the night. I could get used to this. Morning walks to estimate the frequency of predator movement and evening ‘tea with wildlife’ sessions to estimate the abundance of prey species. What a wonderful life!

The Similipal landscape

A view of the high altitude sal forest landscape near Devasthali, Similipal

Similipal is a rolling expanse of endless sal Shorea robusta forests interspersed with a blend of Eastern Ghats, Western Ghats and sub-Himalayan trees. The tiger reserve encompasses 2,750 sq. km. (core area 1,195 sq. km.) and is part of the Mayurbhanj Elephant Reserve (7,043.04 sq. km.) and the Simlipal Biosphere Reserve (5,569 sq. km.). Parts of the park, especially in south Similipal, experience frost and this causes the sal to be stunted and appear conifer-like- a phenomenon called ‘sal die-back’. These ‘frost valleys’ – Devasthali is one such – with their expansive meadows are a sight for sore eyes, especially in winter. The abundance of fodder and water sources holds great potential for supporting abundant prey base and makes Similipal an ideal large carnivore habitat.

Apart from tigers, the park supports a multitude of life forms, including a substantial elephant population (said to number over 500), leopards, sloth bears, chital, sambar, gaur, muntjac, mouse deer and chousingha, plus lesser carnivores such as fishing cats, leopard cats, (possibly) caracals, the endemic Joranda civet Paradoxurus jorandensisand stripe-necked mongoose (one of Orissa’s only two known populations). Similipal’s varied birdlife includes rarities such as the Collared Falconet. An endemic frog Phillautus simlipalensis, mugger crocodiles, mahseer fish populating the many streams, and as many as 3,000 plant species including 94 orchids, rare wild rice and aquatic grasses are found in this botanical wonderland.

That was the good news. Sadly, however, the park is deteriorating. There are as many as 65 villages in its buffer, four in the core. Extremist groups take full advantage of these villagers and have a free run of a park that was once considered a jewel in Project Tiger’s crown. A combination of poorly-managed tourism and resource-constrained park management hardly helps. Those of us who know how unsupported they are, take issue with people who automatically point fingers at the Forest Department and look forward to the day when field forest staff receive the respect and support of a nation whose very future depends on protecting our threatened forest ecosystems.

On Foot in South Similipal

Pugmark of a tigress near Devasthali, Similipal

To the north – in the tourism zone, much of it lying in the buffer – the prey base has been decimated and consequently carnivores are few and far between. Little wonder then that a tourist visiting Simlipal today must remain content with waterfalls, paddy fields and livestock, rather than the wildlife that once regaled visitors.

South Simlipal is another matter altogether, particularly the Upper Barhakamuda range. With the ever increasing anthropogenic pressure of 65 villages in the buffer zone, four in the core and free reigning extremists, tiger occupancy has been squeezed into this, the most remote part of the inner core. This is a great shame and it should be the objective of all who seek to prevent the extinction of tigers to help this population spread over the rest of the park and to return tigers to the northern aspects of Simlipal where habitats like the famous Chahala meadow used to report regular sightings all the way to the mid-1990s.

Walking daily with Barik, the forest guard of Devasthali and with Dasmat, a watcher, I covered Nuagaon, Mahabirsal, Golkund meadow, Bachhurichara meadow, Sulmundi, Dhudram Kachha and nearby areas. We frequently came across pugmarks, scats, scrapes and other evidences left behind by the resident Devasthali tigress, whose territory around the beat house sported large herbivore concentrations. Apart from her, we came across pugmarks of at least two other tigers, far from Devasthali. One of them, possibly a male, had huge, broad pugmarks, easily twice the size of the ones we usually saw around Devasthali. The other, narrower and longer was that of a female. Barik had previously informed me that three tigers occupied his beat and it looked like we had found them all.

Surprisingly, we didn’t come across even one leopard track and we hoped that it was tigers that were responsible, not poachers. We saw no sloth bears, hyena or jackal spoor. Could this be because the hilly areas (970 msl., frost valleys, stunted sal trees) was not favoured by them? Fruiting trees, I observed, were few and far between, and consequently birds and langur were also relatively rare, compared to the lower elevations. Wild dogs, we had been informed, went extinct (unmourned) in the ‘90s and I came across only two gaur tracks in the entire period.

Evening congregation of Sambar begins at Devasthali saltlick. Decent ungulate densities in the less disturbed parts of the reserve support its last tigers.

The saltlicks at Devasthali and Upper Barhakamuda, however, attract large congregations of herbivores. Sambar herds of 300 plus individuals have been seen in Upper Barhakamuda and I often saw over 100 sambar grazing at Devasthali. Elephants visited Devasthali each evening and their tracks and dung were ubiquitous, as were those of chital and barking deer. The habitat here doesn’t support as many chital as it does sambar and it is common to see sambar herds far outnumbering chital herds. I was able to see considerable evidence of porcupine and ratel movement.

I found this freshly made tiger kill on my last morning in the reserve.

On my last morning in the park, I came across a freshly killed sambar stag not far the beat house. I guessed it had been ambushed while retreating to the forest from the meadow at dawn. I positioned myself near the kill for the rest of the day, but saw neither hair nor hide of its attacker. As luck would have it I was informed the very next day, January 11, 2009, that Barik and a forester saw the Devasthali tigress sprawled beside the half-eaten carcass! She turned out to be one of the dark striped individuals peculiar to Simlipal.

Forest Wrongs

Clearly Devasthali and its surrounds hold a substantial density of tigers that comprise a source population for Simlipal. This is not surprising, because the area supports a decent prey base, which in turn is because south Simlipal has fewer villages and, consequently, less human disturbance such as livestock grazing and encroachment of meadows for agriculture. If the villagers in the core area – Jenabil, Jamuna, Bakua and Kabataghai – could be convinced to move, an ailing Simlipal would be given a new lease on life.

Though admittedly I did see signs of an abundance of wildlife in this section of the reserve, what worried me was that the movement was almost completely nocturnal. It seemed that no mammal, including elephants, ventured out before late evening. In any event, we did not come across any elephants during our walks in the area and we sighted just two barking deer and four chital during walks through the entire week. The evidence was clear as day -- human persecution was at work. It is vital that this peace and solitude be restored to this sanctum sanctorum and the only way to do this is to create a physical separation between the human and wildlife communities.

The next time anyone thinks of criticising the field staff of the Simlipal Tiger Reserve, I would suggest they first consider the fact that more than half the posts remain unfilled. This is like Sanctuary trying to bring out the magazine, with half its staff missing. The job may get done, but can it be done well?

Simlipal is the pride of Orissa. These vast forests play a role in moderating climate and actually impact the Indian monsoon through transpiration and convection. Yet its officials are overage, underpaid, overworked, underpowered and hence, under-motivated. Local villagers, largely tribal, have ancient hunting traditions and they have of late discovered that commercial poachers pay better wages than officials who at best distribute marginal daily wages for ad hoc forest works. The meagre 40 guards or less that patrol the huge 3,000 sq. km. reserve, find themselves overwhelmed by locals who often enter the park en masse to loot timber, poach, or light fires to make it easier to find fallen fruit a week later.

Forest Departments across India inevitably fall prey to the short-term benefits that accrue to the political system and to profiteers from ‘development’. This must change, as the Department is entrusted with the greatest resources any nation can have -- far more important than our political boundaries and GDP are the sources of our air, water, climate and storehouses of our carbon. We must treat the department that protects these sources with far more respect and far more importance than we do now.

Finally, the fuse blows

The shoddy treatment of Simlipal at the hands of the State Government – staff shortages, delay in relocating villages, poor intelligence gathering and non-existent implementation of law was directly responsible for a brutal attack on the Forest Department in March 2009. Extremists, presumed to be Maoists, stormed the park, burning Forest Department buildings and threatening personnel and tourists alike (see box on page ). The attack was supported by locals who – unlike their ancestors – no longer wish to protect either the forest, or wildlife. Poachers, timber mafia and local land encroachers enjoyed a field day following the invasion as all forest personnel were forced to flee their positions. Ominously, dark parallels can be drawn to Manas when extremists created havoc and in their wake, poachers mopped up over 100 rhinos.

Simlipal will suffer a similar fate because the park continues to reel under the impact of the attack and if the state government does not quickly wake to its abdication of duty, the forest will be emptied of its endangered wildlife. What a tragedy that would be when Simlipal in fact cries out for the nation to recognise its value and work unitedly to revive it, a task that could be accomplished within a short span of five years, provided it is protected assiduously.

Regaining paradise lost

Me and Balu Nagrajan, a fellow wildlifer from Wild Orissa, spend a typical evening at the Devasthali Beat House.

With a core area larger than most reserves, a diverse and flourishing prey base, Simlipal could easily hold the largest source population of tigers in India. But this would only be possible if a holistic, long-term revival plan involving the swift relocation of villages, filling up vacant posts and beefing up anti-poaching and conservation activities is undertaken. Towards this end, the creation of an armed Tiger Protection Force is long overdue, though a flushing operation to rid the park of extremists who are working with poaching mafias may now be unavoidable.

Quite separately, there is a great need to improve tiger monitoring at the chowki or beat level in the park. The field staff requires much better training and sensitising on tiger monitoring as well as dealing with local communities. They also need able leadership that understands and is able to implement modern wildlife conservation strategies.

Clearly however, Similipal cannot be treated as ‘yet another conservation problem’ to be dealt with through ineffective ‘eco-development’ solutions. The four villages in the core will need to be shifted with a package that motivates people to ask for relocation. This will necessarily involve land for land and generous financial compensation. Tourism too will need a mind shift away from ‘waterfalls and picnics’ to true wildlife tourism along the lines of Corbett and Kanha, but without the dangerous tendency to overload the park. Rather than use the park's captive elephants for joy rides, they need to be devoted to patrol difficult terrain and monitor the nucleus tiger population. And yes, the tourism complexes, like the one at Gudgudia inside the park, must be moved out. Simlipal needs to be inviolate.

While their service rules may not permit them to express opinions as strongly as I have done, I know that the officers, senior and junior, in the Simlipal Forest Department agree with the prescriptions listed above.

A peacock in the reserve, shortly after the extremist attack- an apparent gesture of hope.

Returning Similipal and other vast forests like it across the country to health, in my view is not a matter of choice. It is an imperative if India is to escape destruction at the hands of an ecological meltdown of the subcontinent.

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Well known journalist, author and wildlife conservationist Prerna Singh Bindra had written a piece on the shameful take over of Similipal Tiger Reserve by extremists, which appeared in a box with the above article. Prerna and I had visited the park a few weeks after the attacks to make a first hand note of the state of affairs there... here's her article:

Under attack

by Prerna Singh Bindra

At 8:30 p.m. on March 28, 2009, the VHF tower at Meghasani, Simlipal’s highest peak was destroyed. The first strike was a masterstroke, effectively cutting off all communication. Over the next few hours, extremists systematically pillaged and burned leaving in their wake the shattered dreams of conservationists and an uncertain future. Forestchowkis, vehicles, rest houses were ransacked and set aflame and rangers, forest guards and tourists were bound and beaten. A department tusker whose last ‘job’ had been to chase away some timber smugglers and crush their bike was shot and left to die. Posters demanding the “death of Project Tiger” and threats to destroy the entire forest were put up. While the attacks were all across the 3,000 sq. km. reserve, they were concentrated at its most vulnerable points in the core area -- Chahala, Upper Barhakamuda, Devasthali, Gudgudia, Patbil, Jenabil, Joranda – where much of the wildlife is concentrated. The motive was clear -- the carnage was aimed to break the back of forest administration and thereby ‘free’ the forest of any control whatsoever. Police sources confirmed that the Naxals had the tacit support of local forest dwellers and tribals, who regarded the Forest Department as an impediment to their activities be it ritual hunting, or tree felling, a sentiment exploited by the Naxals. The timing of the attack is suspicious too, on the eve of the akhand shikar -- a month-long annual ritual of the local tribals who go on a mass hunting spree.

Simlipal was a tragedy waiting to happen. The Mayurbhanj district has long been a haven for left-wing extremists, given its contiguity to Saranda -- once the finest salforest in Asia, and the largest-in Jharkhand – which has been relentlessly ravaged. If intelligence sources are to be believed, they are attempting to create a red corridor that connects Jharkhand with Keonjhar and Jajpur, where the Naxals are well-established.

It’ doesn’t look like the problem will be curbed since the left wing activists enjoy the covert support of the current government in power. In the last decade, roughly the time the BJD government has been in power, the number of Naxal-affected districts in Orissa has grown from three to 20. We have already lost Indravati (in Chattisgarh) and Palamau in Jharkhand to Naxals, and Nagarjunasagar are largely under their control too. Valmiki and Udanti-Sitanadi, a newly-declared tiger reserve in Chahatisgarh have also been infiltrated and some estimates suggest that we have a third of our reserves to the red cancer.

Prerna blogs at www.indianaturally.blogspot.com

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All rights reserved by the respective authors.

Images © Aditya Chandra Panda, 2009

PROMISE KEEPERS

Protectors of antelopes, Ganjam's people need help

A legend goes that well over a century ago, a long drought hit a few villages in the Ganjam district of Orissa. When the drought was at its worst and all hope was given up, a herd of blackbuck (Antelope cervicapara) appeared out of nowhere — and soon after their arrival came life-giving rains. The locals have since worshipped and protected these antelopes with their lives. Such was their love that when a Maharaja came to shoot them, he was stripped and paraded. Lesser mortals would have had to give up much more than just their clothes and self-esteem.

This gratitude towards the animals, which are called 'Krushnasara Mruga', continues to this day. The Blackbuck Protection Committee, led by Honorary Wildlife Warden Amulya Upadhyaya, was felicitated by the state government with the first Biju Patnaik Wildlife Conservation Award, in 2005. The number of blackbucks in the area has now crossed 1,600, and the animals are distributed over 60 to 70 villages.

Except in the monsoons, the area bears a semi-arid look and consists of low, rocky hills with scrub jungles that harbour wild boar, barking deer, hare, hyenas, a few wolves, jackals, foxes, etc. The blackbucks, being animals of the plains, avoid the hills and graze in the fields. They have little fear of humans. One can watch the bucks clashing in short, fierce bouts over their harems. Sometimes the immature bucks, still brown and looking more like chinkaras, try challenging the seasoned adults, and it is amusing to watch them change their minds and flee after an incomplete start! The does, on the other hand, are placid and frequently seen in large herds. Their fawns can be found hidden in the crops, perfectly camouflaged. Then there are the bachelor herds of young bucks. As the day heats up, they start resting in the shade.

In the monsoons the area is bathed in hues of green and the antelopes congregate in impressive numbers — mating being the order of the day. Since they are under strict protection and in the near absence of natural predators, their numbers continue growing.

Save feral dogs, jackals and the occasional wolf, the blackbucks have no worthy predator. Although the canines manage to kill a few fawns now and then, the real blackbuck hunter — the cheetah — is long-extinct, and the wolf is following. The locals usually ‘rescue’ the few fawns that are attacked, and even the males that are sometimes fatally wounded after fights.

But this increasing population is now leading to new, inevitable problems. Their numbers are beginning to tell in crop losses and farmers, who earlier believed that the ‘holy’ antelopes’ grazing on their fields ensured bumper crops, are beginning to now feel the pinch. The crop raiding nocturnal wild boars in the area don’t help either. Some people have begun urging that the antelopes be relocated elsewhere.

But how? Such attempts have failed elsewhere, and where else will they get such protection? In most places, they will only be looked upon as easy protein. Should some be culled instead? However, crop losses notwithstanding, the people of Ganjam will never allow that.

Upadhyaya urges that the government should, instead, expedite the passing of proposals to give this area Community Reserve status. These files have been gathering dust in government offices for the last five years. This will not only let the government compensate the farmers for crop losses, but also provide funding for creating watering holes; planting fallow land with fodder to lessen the antelopes’ dependence on cultivation; and bring in organized tourism, which will, in turn, bring in revenue and employment, etc.

But, to achieve this, competent and devoted officers need to become serious and make sure that red tape and bureaucracy do not get in the way, like they have been over the past five years. They need to realise that this is the least that the people of the rest of India can do to thank the people of Ganjam for protecting such a legacy.

As published in the Tehelka, 20, December 2008
Text and image © Aditya Chandra Panda, 2009. All rights reserved.

Summer 2008: TADOBA ANDHARI TIGER RESERVE, MAHARASHTRA

The Tadoba Andhari Tiger Reserve is situated in the Satpuda landscape in Chandrapur district of Maharashtra. It is a 625 sq km Project Tiger Reserve which includes the Tadoba National Park (declared in 1955) and Andhari Wildlife Sanctuary (declared in 1986).


'Jabbaar', my first wild tiger ever.

I first visited Tadoba in November 2007 and was blessed to see my first wild tiger there. It was the 4th that day. We had hired a rickety Tata Sumo which refused to start once it was turned off. And we had to realise this problem only while entering the Mohurli gate after collecting our entry permits. The morning was perfect, with a nip in the air, November mist and the thrill of being in tigerland. We saw gaur, the usual chital, sambar, peafowl and saw the fresh scat of dhole, or the Indian wild dog just before the Khatodi Gate. We had missed them by minutes, may be seconds.

We drove on to Pandarpauni meadow and then down towards the '97' water hole. On the road we noticed the very fresh pugmarks of a tiger, those of the very same morning! Then started thrill of the chase! The mist was lifting and the dawn sunshine was pleasantly warm. We tracked the pugs on a path that took us around a patch of forest on to its other side. There we saw a couple of Gypsies parked with some excited tourists in them. We had missed the tiger by seconds. But the chase didn't end there! Sanjay Munde, a guide in another Gypsy, skillfully predicted the direction the tiger would take from the very bush he had vanished into and we went back towards 97 and waited at the expected point from which he (we knew it was a male by then) would walk out onto the road. The wait was just as exciting as the chase. 4-5 vehicles, pin drop silence, and the tense wait. Then the guide in our vehicle suddenly blurted out in a hushed but urgent tone "arrey, yeh raha tiger!" and pointed somewhere to the left of our Sumo.

That was my near side (I was seated on the front passenger side) and I noticed a pattern of black and gold in the bamboo some distance away and was iimmediately raised to seventh heaven! My first glimpse of a tiger in the jungle! But then what was this- suddenly I saw a great head with lots of white on it hardly 6-7 feet away! I was staring at a patch of sunlight and shadow created by the thin bamboo all this while, some 20 feet away while the real tiger was right next to me! He was bothered by so many vehicles having discovered him and wanted to get away fast. He walked behind the tree line as long as he could and then came on to the road, giving us a splendid view! He smelt a few bushes, sprayed them and settled down in the grass, only to be disturbed by a bus coming from the opposite direction. I didn't know whether to watch or to photograph. When I tried photographing my hands shook like leaves with the amount of adrenalin that was pumped into them. So I gave up and enjoyed the moment.

Truly, nothing in the world captures the moment and your senses like a tiger in the wild... it’s like a phantom... so huge and so striking and absolutely silent when it walks, incredibly fast paced, but never in a hurry. And then it disappears, as soon as it had arrived, leaving you wondering if it was really there at all! That tiger, I was later told, was called 'Jabbaar'. An impressive big male he was. With this, my first wild tiger, by seeing whom I had thought I'd satisfy a long overdue hunger, I realised that I had just managed to make that hunger terribly insatiable. I had to come back. There's nothing in the world like tracking wild tigers and, with skill and luck, being rewarded with even a glimpse of them.

When I got another opportunity to visit Tadoba in April 2008, I grabbed it. I remembered Sanjay's words from my last winter visit- "Sahib, dhupkali mein aao, sab se badhiya tiger sighting milenge." He had asked me to come in the summer, when water would be scarce, to have my best tiger sightings in Tadoba. I couldn't wait for the train to reach Nagpur on 18th April '08. The next three days were to be spent in Tadoba and the three days following that in Pench National Park, Madhya Pradesh.

Day 1, 19, April 2008:

Morning drive
The first morning we drove in with Bubloo Katkar, our driver who had stayed all his life here and who had just bought a used Gypsy. The first place we visited after entering the Mohurli gate was the Telia meadow, which had been recently created after a village by the same name was relocated. Instead of people and cattle, there were a herd of sambar, some peafowl and one of the handsomest wild boars I've ever seen. Bubloo told me that the place was especially known for its sloth bear sightings. We then drove on, the summer morning beginning to heat up, checking waterhole after waterhole and intently listening to catch even the faintest alarm call.


A herd of smabar, Cervus unicolor, at Telia meadow

After checking Jamunbodi hilltop, I wanted to visit the Tadoba's erstwhile canteen area, near the lake, to see what changes it had undergone after being shut off to tourists 20 days earlier. We were driving around the now abandoned buildings, Bubloo and the guide nostalgically remembering many years spent there, and I remembering my last trip and the canteen's lovely omeletes! Just as we rounded a curve after the canteen at the base of a hill, the hill to our right and the lake to our left, the guide shouted "wagh, wagh!" 'Wagh' is Marathi for tiger! Bubloo stopped, the Gypsy stalled. But we were positioned nicely. After about two minutes of searching, I could locate the tiger's white belly. It was resting in the shade of a fallen tree in the lake's cool water. He lifted his head to look at us, the dappled sunlight shining right on his face. It was good old Jabbaar! What a start to the trip!


'Jabbaar' again, cooling off in the Talao

We decided to leave him alone, to rest peacefully through the hot Vidharbha summer day and were keen for other tourists to not know of him and cause a typical 'tiger traffic jam' there, preferring to let Jabbar enjoy his siesta instead. But now there was a problem. Our Gypsy wouldn't start. Bubloo had found a good deal on the Gypsy alright, but that didn't hold true for its battery! When four or five goes at the starter refused to fire the engine, the tiger became a little wary. Finally, there was no other option left but for Bubloo and the guide to get down and push-start the Gypsy while I took the wheel. The Gypsy heaved to a start but poor Jabbaar was scared silly by this whole drama and got up and raced up to the road, right in front of our Gypsy, tail held high, and then up the hill. After climbing up, he slowed down, turned back and gave us a look which asked us to just forget everthing that just happened and that big male tigers like him could never possibly be scared! He then ambled up lazily as if nothing had ever happened!

We drove on to Pandarpauni meadow, the place where all the action takes place in Tadoba. There were over a hundred heads of chital and innumerable wild boar grazing and moving towards the Pandarpauni 2 waterhole. Some sambar were also there, along with most of the morning's visitors. We parked and enjoyed observing the animals at the waterhole. The congregation was impressive. A party in another Gypsy decided to leave and we had to make way for them. Our Gypsy refused to start, again. No amount of pushing would make it start now. A white Gypsy arrived, and offered to give us a lift. In it was a friend, Ravi Naidu, from Hyderabad. Ravi and I had known each other online and had exchanged notes on Tadoba and other wildlife issues earlier. He knows Tadoba like the clichéd back of his hand. He has had extensive experience working for several years in Kanha and in his home forests in Andhra Pradesh. Fate had arranged and excellent way for us to meet! We abandoned Bubloo with his Gypsy and boarded Ravi's. He hadn't had any chances with big cats that morning. No one had, except us. He was delighted when we informed him about Jabbar and we started towards the Tadoba Talao (lake) again, after checking out the Kala Amba waterhole.

The Kala Amba waterhole has an interesting story. A few months ago, a group of 2 or 3 Gypsies were at the waterhole, watching a tigress and her cubs. There were some bee hives on the trees above (these were still there when we visited) and a drongo sat on a bamboo shoot, catching the bees as they flew in and out of the hives. Suddenly, the drongo had a bright idea and it put it to action. Instead of sitting there and catching one bee after the other as they flew around in ones and twos, the drongo did a WWII Japanese Air Force suicide bomber and dived into the hive with full force! The number of bees that swarmed out after that were too many for it to catch and it vanished. So did the tigress and her cubs, and the tourists in the Gypsies, who reversed at full speed and then drove straight to Chandrapur hospital forgetting tigers and forests for a long time!


Oriental Honey Buzzard

With that note we went towards the Talao hoping Jabbaar would have come back after we had left. Jabbaar wasn't there. He must have found some other waterhole away from the disturbing road. We saw instead three Oriental Honey Buzzards drinking from the lake. A mugger crocodile was lying under the surface with its nostrils and eyes sticking above the surface. I was glad to be back in Tadoba!

Afternoon drive
In the afternoon Bubloo was back with a new battery, ready to pick us up at 3 pm. I took the wheels, as I love driving in the forests and I love Gypsies. It was a lovely drive, with lots of sambar, chital and gaur sightings. Wild boars were there everywhere. We missed a leopard by minutes. Ravi and most other Gypsies had seen it, near Kala Amba. When we arrived at the scene, the others, who had all missed the tiger that day (our was the only sighting) had evened scores with us through that one leopard!


A herd chital, or Spotted Deer, at Pandarpauni 1 waterhole

Splitting up from the Gypsy 'herd' we continued our safari and chose to go back to Pandarpauni to enjoy watching the ungulates that would line up at he waterholes and come to graze on the lush grass of the meadow as the day cooled down. Fingers were also crossed for the Pandarpauni sub adult cubs, who had managed to survive even after their famous mother, called Katrina, had vanished under mysterious circumstances. Soon, it was sundown, and with no luck with the tigers but an excellent, near spiritual time watching the ungulates come one after the other, in huge herds to drink and then graze in the golden twilight, we turned back towards Mohurli. This excellent density of prey base was a sure sign of a healthy tiger population and a healthy forest.


Sambar in the Tadoba Talao

Driving to the gate we chanced upon some sambar that had entered the Tadoba Talao, a scene made famous by the better known Ranthmbhore's Padam Talao on many a BBC and NGC documentary. Shooting some quick pictures, we made our way to the gate in the fast failing light.


Mother and fawn in perfect symmetry, Tadoba Talao

Between the Khatodi and Mohurli gates, we saw a white Gypsy stranded on the road, refusing to start. It was now our turn to give Ravi a lift!

Day 2, 20, April 2008:

Morning drive
On our second morning Ravi and we decided to go together, in two Gypsies. Even before we reached Khatodi Gate, the entrance to the Tadoba National Park from the Andhari Wildlife Sanctuary, we had heard a barking deer giving alarm calls and went to investigate, without result. The rest of the morning was spent in search of the King as it was Ravi's last day and he would leave the same evening. He was desperate as he had never come to Tadoba and not seen a tiger.


Wild boar at '97' waterhole

The chase continued. Fresh pugmarks here, an alarm call there. No results after waiting at Pandarpauni 1, coming under the territory of a huge tiger called Sultan, for over an hour. Soon it was time to leave. We had to be out by 11am. We had been amused by wild boars wallowing in the water, a monitor lizard, a pair of mating Indian Rollers, aka Blue Jays and numerous ungulates, but still no tiger.


Blue Jays or Indian Rollers mating, Pandarpauni

As a last try, we just wanted to check the Vasantbanjara stream. I asked Ravi to wait on the tar road while I went in to check the densely shaded stream. I found no signs of tiger. As we were backing out to the road I could see Ravi wildly waving to us from his Gypsy. We hurried. "Just keep watching the clearing between those two bushes" he whispered and pointed to the left. I watched with baited breath, camera at the ready. A tiger appeared out of a bush, crouching and moving as if he were a lot shorter than he really was. He looked at us with an unpleasant expression on his face and hurried behind the other bush and disappeared towards the stream in less than five seconds. He was an old tiger with a pale coat and Ravi had been lucky enough to see him on the road at close quarters before he vanished behind a bush!


Day #2, Tiger #2!

This is what I love about Tadoba. The tigers here behave absolutely naturally, wary of humans, very unlike the nearly semi-tame ones of Madhya Pradesh. Of course, it takes just as much skill to track the Madhya Pradesh tigers and they are just as beautiful, but the Tadoba tigers have not been adulterated by the constant presence of tourists. Some do tolerate them, but only up to a certain limit. They won’t fall asleep in front of tourists, for example! At least they don't now! I don't mean to criticize Ranthambhore or Bandhavgarh, as the behaviour of their tigers is bare proof of their effective conservation, but the behaviour of Tadoba tigers is that of a truly 'wild' tiger, of a remote forest, untouched by humans. It’s just pleasantly different. This might not appeal to the die hard photographer, but, to an Indian wildlifer, this is the essence of the jungle.

Just after exiting the Mohurli gate, we were witness to yet another spectacle. Two of the Forest Department's elephants were being retired from active service and were being sent off to a 'retirement home'. It was interesting to watch them being coaxed onto trucks.


Tusker on a truck

Afternoon drive
Pictures were shared over glasses of chilled lemonade and our terrific luck discussed. Two tigers in two consecutive mornings! I couldn't ask for more! Old friends from the Tiger Research and Conservation Trust (TRACT) Vinod and Rundan had come to visit us.


Langurs at late afternoon

Post lunch, we started for the evening drive, this time, in one Gypsy. After having some great gaur sightings, we went to the '97' waterhole. We saw some sambar there, looking down into the water, which had shrunk down below our view in the summer heat. We couldn't see what the sambar were looking at, but they were very tense, their tails raised and eyes wide, a tense hoof stamping hard from time to time. Then, a small, bright orange head appeared, looking at us inquisitively. A few others followed. Dholes! We had chanced upon a pack of India's Wild Dogs (Cuon alpinus) which had cornered a small herd of sambar!


Wild dog cornering sambar, 97 waterhole

This is a rarely witnessed drama of the Indian jungle and we were extremely fortunate to be witnessing it. Soon, about ten or more pups and sub adults leaped out from behind. Two stags were trying to defend a hind and a fawn from the dogs. The fraction of moment for which we had distracted the dholes had given the sambar a chance to escape. They gradually began retreating. The dhole suddenly took their eyes off us and realising their prey was slipping, followed them cautiously. We had spoiled their hunt... but were still grateful for the moment. Ravi left that evening, his record unbroken.

Day 3, 21, April 2008:

Morning drive
Dinner table talks at the MTDC Resort the previous night revolved around our exceptional tiger luck. Everyone was sure we'd see one on our last day, and have a 'hattrick'! We kept our fingers crossed!

It was a Monday and there were almost no other visitors except 2-3 Gypsies including ours. The others went towards Kolsa and we were the only Gypsy in the Tadoba side. As we left the Talao area that morning and drove towards Pandarpauni, from a distance we noticed hundreds of chital running together- a scene reminiscent of Africa's famous wildebeest and zebra herds migrating. We rushed to see what the commotion was all about. The chital were running as fast as they could, wasting time for nothing, not even alarm calls. They were running in circles and we noticed that a pack of wild dogs were right inside the herd, a feast in the offing for them. There was more than a single kill that morning. The dogs were whistling maniacally.


Dhole with chital kill

As we watched the nearest dog grabbed a fawn by the throat, deviating from typical canine style and behaving more like a big cat. After the fawn was dead in its grip, the dog used all its strength to drag the kill to a nearby bush where it began to eat it. Strangely, no other dogs joined. There surely were more kills.


Dragging the kill

A herd of sambar chanced upon the scene just then, and vanished with equal suddenness, belling out their alarm calls. A pup, which didn't know which way to go, which whistle to answer to, jumped around in agitation and excitement for a few seconds before diving into Pandarpauni 1 and swimming to the other bank, the ten inches of his height enough to send a sounder of wild boar fleeing! This was some action! Pandarpauni bore a strange, eerie look, not an animal on its otherwise teaming meadows!


A dhole pup swims

We drove towards Katejhari, and on our way, chanced into another Gypsy with an elderly couple. They asked us if we had seen our third consecutive tiger yet, and hearing we hadn't, reassured us of our ‘hattrick’. In Katejhari we came across our first nilgai. Shortly after, we saw a lone sambar. It was getting late and we decided to head back. But Bubloo said, since we had come that far, why not check a waterhole that was only a few metres away. Just as we reached, a big male tiger turned to look towards us! He was cooling off in the water.


Day #3, tiger #3

Seeing us, he got up and climbed onto the bank, turned to give us another look and vanished! A chital called in alarm to tell us where he headed. Unbelievable good luck!

Afternoon drive
That evening we enjoyed a bit more a Tadoba, especially the gaur in the magical late evening light on top of Jamunbodi. There were over twenty of them scattered around, calling and grazing. Their reddish brown bodies, stockinged legs and the beautiful yellow grass looked fantastic in that light.


A bull gaur at Jamunbodi

A particularly cooperative one horned bull, whom I had seen before, gave some good photo opportunities. The next morning we were to head back to Nagpur, and then to the forests of Kipling's 'Jungle Book'- Pench National Park.

To view more images from this trip, CLICK HERE


All rights reserved.
Text and images © Aditya C. Panda, 2008

SATKOSIA'S TIGERS – a new ray of hope

As published in the Sanctuary Asia magazine, Vol. No. XXVIII, No.2, April 2008*

A Sanctuary ABN AMRO Young Naturalist of the Year Award winner for, 2007, the author is still a college student, but has nevertheless managed to pack in a remarkable amount of experience into his life. Working with Wild Orissa, his documentation of predator-prey status in the Satkosia-Gorge Wildlife Sanctuary helped get this vital forest declared a tiger reserve. He writes here about his experiences during his visits to a forest he knows, loves and seeks to protect.

Text and images by Aditya C. Panda

A mugger crocodile basks on the sands of the river Mahanadi in the Satkosia Gorge

On its incessant course toward the Bay of Bengal, the mighty Mahanadi crashes through the hills of Central Orissa, carving a stunning, 22 km.-long gorge. The Eastern Ghats biotic province lies to the south of this gorge and the Chhota Nagpur plateau to its north. Here, in the forest of the Satkosia Gorge, the tiger's roar is still heard and the mugger or marsh crocodile still fishes in the crystal waters of the Mahanadi. This is also the southernmost range of the highly-endangered gharial, though only three or four still survive here. Ever since the Hirakud Dam was constructed upstream, the fortunes of the gharial have dwindled, partly because the freshwater ecology changed and also because of competition from mugger crocodiles. The forests that clothe both banks of the river are a stronghold of elephant, gaur, leopard, sambar, chital, barking deer, mouse deer, chousingha and wild pig. And of course, one of Orissa's last remaining viable tiger populations. Sloth bears are still common here and the occasional dhole or wild dog pack can be sighted, though not as often as before. The rich sal forests mixed with luxuriant bamboo, teak and fruiting trees like Asan (Terminalia tomentosa) and Kochila (Strychnos nuxvomica) cater to varied birds including Alexandrine, Rose-ringed and Plum-headed Parakeets, lorikeets, Verditer, Monarch, Fantail and other flycatchers, nuthatches, mynahs, tits, Brown Cheeked Fulvettas… the list is endless. This is a good place to sight giant and flying squirrels too and the forests harbour populations of endangered Hill Mynah and Malabar Pied Hornbills.

I first visited Satkosia, in May 2007, as part of an elephant census team from Wild Orissa (a Bhubaneswar-based organisation with whom I have been volunteering for almost five years or more). I have been smitten ever since and have lost no opportunity to visit the park to help monitor and document its wildlife.

Counting elephants

Diptiranjan Patra, a friend and Wild Orissa member, and I reached the rustic, century-old bungalow at Labangi from Pampasar, Satkosia's main entry point, well past midnight. A chital alarm from the hills to our right reminded us that we were in the striped predator's domain and I hoped that a tiger sighting was in my destiny this trip, but the real joy was to be out on foot in the forest as an observer.

A young tusker beats the May heat in the Kantarsingha Game Tank

A wild animal census is not an exact affair that can throw up definitive numbers of any species, but it does give managers an idea of the density, diversity and spread of animal populations. For obvious reasons, there is a focus on waterholes and salt licks, which are frequently visited by animals. As instructed by the officers in charge of the census, we headed out on foot early in the morning towards the Kantarsingha Game Tank. The path was strewn with ungulate spoor – fresh and old – chital, sambar, barking deer, mouse deer and the occasional gaur. We unwittingly disturbed a herd of chital at the tank. The saltlicks around the tank were replete with activity, we even saw elephant tracks.

A small herd of chital or spotted deer at Kantarsingha Game Tank


Sambar at the salt lick in Kantarsingha (image scanned from older film archive)

The rich birdlife and the presence of giant squirrels indicated a healthy canopy, an increasingly rare occurrence in this era of monoculture plantation forests. That afternoon, we trekked for around 20 km. through dense forests toward Talsera village. En route, we saw leopard pugmarks, but missed seeing elephants by a just few minutes on two occasions and had to be content with the heavy scent they left in the still, sweltering air of a May afternoon. While pugmarks may not accurately help in identifying specific animals, they are certainly vital in indicating carnivore movements and all such data had to be meticulously recorded by all those engaged in the census operation.

The moment we entered the village, we were informed that a tusker was gorging on mangoes in the village grove, half a kilometre away. We hurried to the spot, only to discover that the village kids had scared him away. It had not been a particularly exciting day, but in a sense the very ‘slowness’ of everything was attractive. Unlike the image of forests painted by dramatic documentaries, real life here is slow, somnambulant almost. The drama is, of course, always present (a carnivore kill, the movement of an elephant herd), waiting to burst into the open, after which long periods of stasis are again the order of the day.

Day two was decidedly more rewarding. We were on the Labangi-Tulka road in the Pampasar Range, where we were informed that three tuskers were still in the vicinity. Walking in the safety of a dry nullah, with good visibility around it, we came across the first tusker in less than 10 minutes. He was on a three metre-high embankment and we could barely get a glimpse of him before he turned around and disappeared into the forest. We missed the other two tuskers, but could tell they were there from the rumbling infrasound they made.

We returned in the afternoon with Palia, the game watcher. There was a muntjac at the saltlick, but it bolted on our approach. Clearly, the Satkosia forest could do with more isolation and protection from humans. We did, nevertheless, manage to get in a decent afternoon of birding and saw a giant squirrel intently watching us as we waited for elephants. A herd of sambar – four does and a fawn arrived at the saltlick before where they spent some quiet time till they were alarmed by something a little to our left and behind. Their tails were up and forefeet stamped the ground with exaggerated deliberation to the accompaniment of loud alarms. They all looked fixed in the direction of the threat (a big cat?) before walking back in the direction they had emerged. A minute later, a muntjac called from the direction of the 'threat' and left us guessing. Did the two different species of deer merely scare each other, or was there indeed a predator on the prowl? As always, watching the forest come to life at sundown was a breathtaking experience. As darkness crept in and night sounds replaced the more familiar sounds of day, we walked back to camp, following the fresh tracks of a lone elephant that had visited the area while we were at the game tank.

That evening I made careful notes in my field diary, which I would later transcribe into a standard format for the authorities. I was glad to play a small role in helping protect and manage this wilderness and knew that this is what I was destined to do for the rest of my life.

The next day, the final day of the census, we were asked to take the morning watch atop the watchtower. The first two hours yielded 11 barking deer and miscellaneous bird life, but no elephants! In the afternoon, Palia and I went to the nearby game tank and stopped some metres away listening to the low rumbling typical of an elephant. The sight we saw was enough to gladden any heart. It was a particularly content elephant vocally splashing about the pool, literally playing in its own private, natural spa, wet mud and all. We crept up the tower and watched, completely mesmerised, as the young tusker celebrated his existence. I doubt that that memory of Satkosia will ever be lost to me. If at all there was any doubt that Satkosia was a vital elephant habitat that was dispelled the next morning as we watched yet another young tusker gorge on the fruit of a village orchard, downing mangoes and jack fruit at will for over an hour. .(Add one or two sentences on the result of the census)

A few days later, as I read the census figures in the newspapers back home, I was content to note that Satkosia Wildlife Division alone had close to 200 elephants. Combined with Baissipalli Wildlife Sanctuary and other forests of Mahanadi Wildlife Division and surrounding territorial forests that constituted the Mahanadi Elephant Reserve, the number of elephants in these forests was said to exceed 500

A Panthera tigris stronghold

A couple of months before this trip to Satkosia, a young tigress, said to be between two and four years old, was sprayed with 11 rounds of buckshot by a poacher who had gone into the jungle in search of deer. She was found in the Purunakote Range and was transported for care to the Nandankanan Zoo in Bhubaneswar, where, even today, she lies in a tiny cage, paralysed below her waist, with painful bedsores, far away from the forests she once roamed. In my view, she would be better off dead.

The tigress, shot by a poacher at Asurakhola in Purunakote. Now confined to a
squeeze cage in Nandankanan zoo for nearly one and half years

At Wild Orissa, we have always known that Satkosia was a crucial tiger breeding habitat and that it needed much more protection. But it took 11 long years of intensive lobbying to get Satkosia declared a tiger reserve. In December 2007, I made another long trip to Satkosia, this time to the proposed core area of the tiger reserve, to document and collect data on tigers and their prey. With me was friend and fellow wildlifer with Wild Orissa, Dayani Chakravarthy from Mysore and Satyabrata Mishra, also a member from Bhubaneswar. We based ourselves in Tulka, in Purunakote Range, for the first half of the trip and then in Labangi, in Pampasar Range.

In and around Tulka, we saw many tiger pugmarks, fresh and old. On the main jeep track, we saw the fresh pugmarks of a tigress followed by a lone cub! The size of the prints suggested that the cub was no more than three or four months old. Interestingly, the pugmarks were superimposed on our car tracks, which meant they had passed just the previous night or early that morning because we had arrived around midnight. We knew that there was a tigress in Purunakote Range with two cubs, but they were almost a year old then. This was a different tigress and it had a new cub in tow! All this spelled good news for Satkosia.

Pug mark of a tigress, Satkosia Tiger Reserve

Apart from the two breeding females, we found the pugmark of yet another lone tigress and the pugmarks of two different males in different parts of the range. All this in the vicinity of the Tulka and Purunakote villages! In all likelihood, the high density of tigers is because of the healthy gaur population in the reserve. Not surprisingly gaur kills by tigers are frequent. The reappearance of dholes in this area is also a very welcome sign of the increasing prey base. Through our stay, we heard alarm calls of chital, sambar and langur daily. On our third morning in Tulka, as we were returning to the bungalow after our morning romp in the forests, we were treated to the most awe-inspiring sound in the world – the call of a male Royal Bengal tiger! He called for almost half an hour, at intervals of 5-10 seconds. The whole atmosphere was electric! In my view, if there is any real future for the tiger in Orissa, it is here. Even more so than Similipal (which is neck deep in controversy about its tigers now), though both reserves must, of course, receive the highest level of protection.

The significance of Satkosia

The location of Satkosia’s rich forests – in the very heart of Orissa – makes it an extremely vital biodiversity vault. It has direct or indirect corridors with almost every other major forest patch in the state. The Satkosia-Baissipalli belt, together with adjoining Reserved Forests has been declared as the 1,000-plus sq. km. Mahanadi Elephant Reserve, which houses close to 500 pachyderms. To the south, the Satkosia belt (which includes Baissipalli) is directly connected to the Ghumusar North and South Reserved Forests. Indirectly, corridors also connect the Nayagarh-Daspalla forests. And the park is well linked to the forests of Western Orissa, particularly the Khalasuni-Badrama (Ushakoti) section, which also harbours a tiger population.

Perfect habitat for tigers in Satkosia

I have visited this forest frequently and have come to know it well. Elephant and tiger movement frequently occurs between Baissipalli and the Tarasingh Range of Ghumusar North. Ghumusar is one of the few forests outside the Protected Areas that contains a breeding tiger population and should quickly be listed as a critical tiger habitat for the long-term survival of Panthera tigris in Orissa. Leopards are also doing well here, though their poaching is getting increasingly frequent in the region. The success of the Satkosia Tiger Reserve would be greatly shored up if Ghumusar could be readied to accept Satkosia's spillover tigers. This would also serve the additional purpose of refreshing the gene stock of both tiger populations.

The Ghumusar forests are in turn well connected with the Kondhmal (Kandha referring to a predominant tribe here, mal meaning mountains) forests (Phulbani and Kalahandi) and the historically rich and very remote ‘Dandakaranya’ (at the junction of Orissa, Andhra and Chhattisgarh). This area has historically been known for its tigers and its wild, untamed terrain. On the western side, the Boudh and Rairakhol forests connect Satkosia to the wildlife-rich jungles of Ushakoti-Badrama.

To the north, the regular movement of elephants (and tigers) between Satkosia and Similipal through the Kapilas Reserved Forests was badly affected by the NH-42, which links Cuttack and Sambalpur. Whatever little migration was possible was wrecked by the construction of the Rengali Canal. Such shortsighted and ecologically damaging projects could so easily have been better planned, if only developers had the sensitivity and ecological intelligence that is going to be so critical to the survival of human populations on the Indian subcontinent.

It is impossible to underestimate the value of the Satkosia forests, which are, incredibly, also linked to the coastal forests of the Cuttack and Khurda districts.

The Satkosia Tiger Reserve

A decade of solid work put in by Wild Orissa's finally paid off in 2005, when the Central Government gave an ‘in-principal’ approval for the Satkosia Tiger Reserve. However, it was not until December 31, 2007, that the Orissa Government actually formalised Satkosia’s declaration as Orissa's second tiger reserve. Hopefully, the Orissa Forest Department will now ensure that this decision translates into greater protection for tigers. It’s not going to be an easy task because timber theft and poaching are rampant here. Twenty tigers could be lost in the blink of an eye if we lose our focus. All it would take are a few jaw traps and a few pesticide bottles.

The other critical effort will be the building up of herbivore populations through protection. This happens to be one of the most neglected aspects of wildlife management in India and it troubles me when forest officials treat anything other than tiger and elephant poaching as ”petty crime by locals”. Whoever indulges in the killing of wild animals, rich or poor, tribal or non-tribal, should have the book thrown at them. This is because killing of deer and wild pig directly affects the food availability of carnivores. And when food is short, not only does the breeding success of carnivores fall, but incidents of human-animal conflicts automatically rise.

Habitat management, of the kind that parks such as Kanha have so effectively implemented down the years, is vital for habitats such as Satkosia whose prey density will surely rise if we create and maintain the meadows that had long ago been lost to the teak plantations planted by the British. Apart from encouraging prey densities to rise, meadows will also encourage both carnivores and elephants to stay inside the park and will greatly reduce the man-animal conflict that has become a part and parcel of the life of those living on the fringes of Orissa protected forests.

Late in January this year, I returned to Satkosia for a short trip. In a little over two days, I was able to spend time watching for raptors including a really good Crested Serpent Eagle sighting. Other birds I enjoyed watching were the Blackheaded Bulbul and Monarch Flycatcher. I followed up on a report of a leopard that had killed a goat in a village near Jagannathpur on the way to Purunakote and was able to follow the day-old pugmarks of another leopard along the road to Asurakhola. Jungle paths always tell interesting stories and as I followed the leopard’s pugmarks, I saw older tracks of a lone tiger going in the opposite direction. I did an about turn and discovered where the tiger had scraped the soil beside the path at frequent intervals. Near one of the scrapes, I discovered a scat that seemed to suggest that the tiger had made a chital kill, but to be absolutely sure, the hair would need to be examined under a microscope. A little ahead, I found fresh bear scat with termite heads in it, but missed the sloth bear that others had seen ahead of us.

I spent the second morning in Tulka where, the forest watcher, Ganga, had found tiger pugmarks three to four days ago, probably of the resident Tulka male. I spent the day at Tikarpada and walked along the opposite bank of the river, watching river lapwings and a particularly large mugger crocodile. Our boatman said he had seen tigers on the Mahanadi's banks on a few occasions. I also heard of villagers who had scared off a tiger that had a charged a grazing herd of buffaloes.

The most promising tiger habitat here is the Labangi-Tulka-Purunakote patch, which has a fairly decent prey base. However, this area is not going to be sufficient for new cubs because when they grow up they will need independent territories, which will be hard to come by. All the truly suitable tiger habitats in Satkosia are already occupied and, under present conditions of habitat and protection, both predators and prey seem to have reached a level of saturation. Without improving the habitat by drastically reducing human, and especially, cattle pressure, improving vegetation and forage for herbivores and increasing protection, there is little scope for the carrying capacity of these forests to increase any further. From here on it is up to those who control the destiny of India to make up their minds whether they wish to see the tiger quietly die out, or whether it is worthwhile to encourage some key villages to move away from critical tiger habitats with their domestic livestock, so that tiger numbers can rise and the forest can perform the water harvesting and climate control role it had been performing for eons.

The problem is not with the villagers for they have already said they would be happy to move. In fact even those villagers living in Revenue Villages along the Pampasar-Tikarpada State Highway that bisects the Satkosia Sanctuary have agreed to move and some such as Raigoda have put this intent in writing over five years ago. But the Orissa Forest Department has not been able to provide an effective relocation package. Purunakote, tired of losing their crop to elephants and ungulates, also now wishes to relocate. The condition of forest villages such as Tulka, Labangi and Chotkei is even worse and they would surely jump at the chance to move closer to markets, where jobs and medical facilities for their families are much easier to access

Incidentally, the Forest Rights Act which is likely to devastate forest lands when brokers and middlemen misuse it to access timber and other forest riches, has no roll to play in the relocation of the Revenue Villages such as the ones mentioned above because these communities already own their lands, which they would gladly sell, provide they were assured of equally fertile lands elsewhere and of a financial package that enabled them to improve the lives of their families. The Satkosia Tiger Reserve has 106 villages strewn across it. Five of these are in the core area of the Tiger Reserve and the rest 101 one lie in its buffer. Rehabilitating these out of the Tiger Reserve will have an immense positive impact on the wild fauna and flora, and, at the same time, provide the people with better opportunities to live a much happier life.

Organized wildlife poaching is another serious threat. This has become a chronic elephant poaching zone and poisoning of tiger kills also happens. The porous southern and eastern boundaries of the park, easily accessible through the Mahanadi, let the notorious wildlife/timber mafia based in Narsinghpur and Badamba villages of Cuttack district have a free run of these forests.

At the time of writing one hears of the Rs. 600 crore financial package that could be allocated for the long term protection of forests such as Satkosia. Another sum of Rs. 50 crore is said to have been allocated for tiger protection in the country in the Union Budget 2008-9. If these funds are used to benefit the wildlife and are not misspent, I have no doubt that Satkosia will turn into a park that could rival any Kanha , Corbett or Nagarahole. Officers of the likes of ex-DFO Sushanta Nanda and his team of rangers (whom I credit with the revival of these forests over the past year and half or so) need to be posted for continued competent and dedicated administration of the park.

The elixir of life!

I am young enough to dream about turning these forests that feed the Mahanadi into the throbbing heart of India’s wilderness. I know that by acting as mega-carbon sinks such thick and biodiversity rich forests could mitigate many of the impacts of climate change that the rampant industrialisation of Orissa is surely going to accelerate. Put another way, protecting the tigers of Satkosia’s amounts to the protection of the very future of Orissa; the very future of India.


My images from the Satkosia Tiger Reserve can be seen here

*Not applicable to some images

BHITARKANIKA!

Shikar Kothi Meadows

Here is my collection of images from trips to this amazing wild-land. The images are from trips made between January 2007 to February 2008. Hope you enjoy them. Feel free to critique. Click on the images to go to gallery.



Bhitarkanika is India's second largest patch of contiguous mangrove forest- next only to the Sunderbans- and is home to the densest population of Saltwater aka Estuarine Crocodile in the subcontinent. Over 1500 salties- the largest living reptiles on the face of this planet- share ~ 650 sq kms of mangrove forest, estuaries and beaches with mind blowing avian and reptilian fauna.



Unlike the forests more inland, mammals take a back seat here as reptiles rule this real life Jurassic Park. However, that doesn't stop it from being home to some extremely rare mammals like the leopard like Fishing Cat and Irrawaddy and Bottle-Nosed dolphins, not to forget other 'common' creatures like chital, wild boar, jackals and hyenas. I'll keep adding to this album as I go on visiting Bhitarkanika.


Bhitarkanika is home to there species of monitor lizard, the largest of which is this,
the seven footer Water Monitor Lizard.


Bhitarkanika is home to 1500 Saltwater Crocodiles


An Asian Openbilled Stork