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Andaman Islands
Sheila – December 2007
The long awaited moment was here
– six months of planning, brainstorming,
working on logistics, costings, changing,
re-changing, re-re-changing of dates - and
we were finally on our way for the delhibird
trip to the Andaman Islands.
Havelock Island
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Elephant Beach - Havelock |
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Mt
Harriet |
The midnight flight out of Delhi to Calcutta
and dawn flight from there to Port Blair
had us circling in the skies above the islands
by 9 am. The seas sparkled in shades of
blue with dark shadows cast by bunches of
fluffy white clouds. We got a good look
at the land masses, every inch covered with
dense forests, as we waited forty five minutes
for runway space. Touchdown and we were
on our hot tropical island – jackets
and sweatshirts were quickly cast off, sleeves
rolled up, and we collected our baggage
and set off on a half-day exploration of
Port Blair before catching the 2 o’clock
ferry to Havelock. We spent a couple of
hours at the Cellular Jail, a monument and
mute witness to the sacrifice, grit and
courage of our freedom fighters, a must
see for every patriotic Indian. A quick
walk through the zoo where we made our acquaintance
with some rather large fierce looking Saltwater
Crocodiles and endemic bird species, and
then it was time to rush for the ferry,
the tickets of which by the way, are at
a premium and have to be organized in advance
– a part of all the logistical planning.
It is a two and a half hour ride to the
island and unfortunately the seating is
all inside with views through tiny portholes.
We wandered around the decks and eventually
plonked ourselves in front of the Captain’s
cabin - (which I am pretty sure is not permitted
but he was kindly tolerant enough of our
enthusiasm to let us be) – the best
seats in the house. The sounds of the ship
cutting through the waters, the slapping
of the waves against its sides, the regular
undulating patterns of the sea being suddenly
disturbed by a school of hurrying Flying
Fish and a partial rainbow in otherwise
azure skies over an azure ocean helped to
pass the time. We arrived at the small Havelock
jetty with vendors selling fruits and vegetables,
spices and freshly caught fish, a quick
transfer to waiting jeeps and we drove through
the island towards Vinnie’s Island,
our pied-a-terre for the next few days.
There is only one way to describe Havelock
(and all of the Andamans) LUSH. There are
at least four different species of plants
on every inch of space. There is ground
cover with herbs and grasses, shrubs with
flowers of myriad hues, shapes and sizes,
gigantic hibiscus, palms laden with areca
and coconuts, creepers climbing up tree
trunks and orchids taking root on all the
branches. They say Havelock is turning into
Goa with tents and cabins for tourists and
backpackers at every 100 feet and except
for the giveaway boards on the road, you
really would have no evidence of this through
the thick vegetation.
Vinnie’s has a lot to recommend itself
– firstly, and of prime importance
on all delhibird trips – a fabulous
chef who dishes out five star meals like
Goan Fish Curry, Chicken Pasta, Sea food
chowder, Whole fish with soya sauce, Bruchetta……
the memory starts my mouth watering. Vinnie's
Dive India is the best dive shop on the
island with trained and expert instructors
and meticulously maintained equipment. There
is great company and lighthearted games
of poker to be played in the evening. And
to top it all there is the most dashingly
handsome Sam – the best looking Labrador
I have ever seen ( besides my Max) and Frodo
his gentle well behaved retriever companion
– both spend their days lolling on
the beach, occasionally chasing a stick
that is thrown into the water and greeting
all the boats that arrive…..it is
a dogs life. We spent our first evening
listening to diving stories and being assured
that it was so safe it did not even qualify
as an adventure sport anymore but a recreational
one, how an 81 year old had been certified
last year and so, we reshuffled our dates
to get the extra day in Havelock to complete
the Open water Scuba diving course. This
set the pattern for our stay – wake
up and out by 5 (its bright day) for a bird
walk. Return, change and out for diving
lesson by 7:30. Back by 3 and quick bird
walk before nightfall which is at 5 pm.
The rest of the evening was spent chatting,
playing games of poker with everybody referring
to a piece of paper for the rules, that’s
how expert we were, and answering test papers
to complete our dive exam.
While birding in the Andamans go for quality,
not quantity. Most of the birds are new
and a good number are endemics so while
you may not have a long list with great
figures, you will certainly have togged
up a fine tally of lifers. On our first
morning a short beach walk revealed Brown
Backed Needletails, Magpie Robins moved
busily in the undergrowth and a flock of
Small Minivets flitted in the trees where
a Black-naped Oriole soon joined them. A
walk down the road and we flushed an Andaman
Crake. The adjoining field had at least
three resident Brown Shrikes strategically
perched on tall grasses and fencing posts,
and the wires were host to numerous White-rumped
Munias. Future walks up and down the same
road threw up pairs of Olive-backed Sunbirds,
small groups of Hill Mynas, Long tailed
Parakeets with blushing faces, Red breasted
Parakeets, Vernal Hanging Parrots, Dollarbirds,
an Asian Glossy Starling, Koels, and a fleeting
glimpse of the Andaman Cuckoo dove. In between
dives we walked the wet sands of Elephant
Beach at low tide. Everywhere we stepped
we had Mud Skippers desperately getting
out of our way, cone shells littered the
mud making it difficult to find toe space,
tiny red, yellow and blue crabs scurried
to the safety of their holes while a White
bellied Sea Eagle soared overhead. The bare
trees were adorned with Long tailed and
Red breasted Parakeets with a couple of
Vernals for company, an Andaman Crested
Serpent eagle sat and preened and Chestnut
headed bee-eaters swooped in search of prey.
Suddenly there was a huge commotion and
a big flock of parakeets flew off noisily
and when we looked for the culprit –
White-bellied Sea Eagle. A few minutes later
there was a repeat performance though this
time a different raptor was to blame - Eurasian
Sparrowhawk. While diving at South Button
we had the Black-naped Tern flying with
our boat, Pacific Reef Egrets in both white
and dark morphs on the rocks and a pair
of White bellied Sea Eagles hunting, feeding
and on nest.
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Coral |
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Coral |
But I am afraid, despite 14 lifers in Havelock,
birding was completely overshadowed. The
main event by any standards was the diving
and the fantastic, pristine coral reefs.
The Andamans are an under water mountain
range, their tops
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Fish
among the reefs
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Reef |
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Coral |
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Coral |
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Coral |
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Barrel
Sponge & Fish |
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making the islands.
As such their gently sloping sides
and the clear blue waters that allow
sunlight to filter down make the perfect
habitat for beautiful coral reefs
alive with thriving fish life. Our
first lesson by our dive instructor
Jackson was an introduction to the
equipment, how to check it and assemble
it. The next was in the boat at Elephant
beach where we were coached on all
the hand signals and how to take care
of small issues like your breathing
apparatus falling out, mask filling
with water, running out of air in
the water (ulp)……. we
all concentrated like our lives depended
on it and then it was time to practice
all this in the shallows. You cannot
imagine how difficult it is to sit
on your knees in the sand with flippers
on and the water buffeting you –
you keep floating away despite the
six kilo weight belt you are
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Dive
Shop |
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wearing. The first five minutes with the
mask on are a little uncomfortable and each
time Jackson signals a new exercise you
feel like ‘oh no not that one’,
but after a little while you reach a level
of comfort where you see a chance of surviving.
An hour of this and then he leads you to
a small exploratory dive, 40 feet deep in
the corals, and you are on your way to becoming
a dive junkie! The experience is inexpressible.
One has seen countless pictures and movies
but nothing prepares you for the real thing.
It’s the same difference as watching
tiger documentaries and coming face
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Turtle
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Turtle |
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to face with Sher Khan in the jungle –
the adrenalin rush, the thrill and the wonder
of it can only be experienced in reality.
Diving literally opens up a whole new world,
one inhabited by an amazing variety of corals
swarming with fish in more colours than
you can ever imagine. We togged up a total
of five dives – 2 at Elephant Beach,
one at the Wall and two at South Button
(went till 60 feet) where the corals are
like an underwater garden. Staghorn corals,
brain corals, mushroom corals, fan corals,
plate corals, fire corals, hedgehog corals,
elkhorns….the waters of the Andaman
Sea are home to more than 197 varieties
of corals. The tiny polyp creates an exoskeleton
of a particular design depending upon its
species. Over hundreds and thousands of
years these calcium carbonate sculptures
form the reefs that we see today ( some
reefs have been forming for over 50 million
years), growing at the rate of 1-2 inches
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Banner
fish |
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in a year. Fragile
and beautiful, you are especially
warned to be careful and make sure
your flippers or hands don’t
accidentally knock into and damage
the coral. Reefs occupy only 1% of
the ocean space but they are home
to 25% of marine life. As you go under
it is almost an Alice in Wonderland
kind of feeling – everything
is magical. All you can hear is the
sound of your own breathing as the
sights unfold – schools of blue
trevally swimming in perfect unison:
Moorish idols and Longfin bannerfish
with elongated dorsal fins that form
a sickle shaped crest; surgeonfish
with razor sharp spines just before
their tail fin; at least 4 kinds of
pufferfish looking wary; sea cucumbers
vacuuming the sands for tasty morsels;
moray eels hiding in the crevasses
and threatening with open fanged mouths;
lionfish, feathery and beautiful and
so poisonous; clown anemones, the
loveable Nemo, |
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Clown
Fish - Nemo
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Fish |
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swimming in the anemone; bright purple clams
that retreat as you approach; fluorescent
coloured Christmas tree worms; turtles that
swim like shadows till we chanced upon one
resting on the reef; rainbow parrotfish
with beaklike mouths; multicoloured wrasse,
butterflyfish, unicornfish, sweetlips, angelfish,
fusiliers, triggerfish, cods, groupers,
……our undersea list was at least
ten times longer than our avian one. The
shapes, sizes, colours and patterns of the
fish, their perfectly synchronized swimming
with sudden twists and turns have you completely
mesmerized. And you feel really really fortunate
to have experienced one part of the planet
which is still as God created it –
pristine,
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Barracuda |
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Clam |
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unpolluted, exquisite. Then someone signals
‘out of air’ and its time to
head to our own habitat. On your dive down
you had to keep holding your nose and blowing
to decompress your ears and on your way
up you have to ascend very slowly, hovering
with your legs crossed and holding onto
your flippers at 5 metres for atleast 5
minutes to help your lungs to readjust and
reduce the nitrogen in your bloodstream.
Divers are very proud of how good they are
with their air
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Diver
in the reefs |
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Diver
and Barracuda |
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consumption –
the more relaxed you are, the easier
you breathe, the less oxygen you consume
and the longer you can stay underwater
so there is always an unspoken competition
happening as to how many bars you
have used up. Fortunately for me,
women have smaller lungs and are naturally
more economical so I never had to
cry uncle. When you surface forty
five minutes later, you carry a little
of this undersea magic back with you.
Then its learning how to get back
in the dunghi without toppling it,
how to take off your weight belt without
braining the person next to you and
how to make sure you get your fair
share of the best samosas in India
from a bunch of very hungry divers.
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Back at the camp with Sam and Frodo accompanying
you as you wade through the shallow low
tide waters, then detach, clean and put
out your equipment to dry, all you can think
about is the next dive. You are well and
truly hooked! Our last night in Havelock
was a full moon night when the sea, sand
and horizon looked so achingly beautiful
that you could just sit on the beach and
be glad that you are a part of this world,
at this moment.
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Diver
in the reefs |
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Sheila
among a school of fish |
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Sam |
It was with a wrench of the heart and with
some of us trying desperately to reshuffle
schedules so we could come back even if
just for a day, that we said bye to Havelock
and all our new friends and caught our boat
the “Pink Cadillac” to Cuthbert
Bay.
Cuthbert Bay
We drove to the Havelock jetty and embarked
on Vinnie’s boat, the “Pink
Cadillac” that was going to take us
to Erata. This time as we had a private
ferry, the decks were all ours and the views
perfect. We sailed through the Andaman Sea
with the salt sea air blowing in our faces
and the sun on our backs, enjoying the ride
through blue waters surrounded by lush green
islands and mangroves. Most of the islands
are forest reserves and uninhabited, accounting
for their rich verdant condition though
poaching of trees is now becoming a problem.
When the sea is calm with gentle waves,
it imparts a sense of peace and well-being
and you sit on the deck thinking –
this is the life, I could live this forever.
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Erata
Jetty |
We passed numerous small islands –
Long Island which is aptly named; Strait
Island where 16 Greater Andamanese tribal
families have been relocated; Guitar Island
where suddenly the waves rippled with the
passage of five dolphins – dolphins
are probably worse than the tiger –
they are impossible to find, turn up unexpectedly
and then tantalize you with views of gleaming
backs and fins leaving you yearning for
more. After 3 hours of sailing we turned
into narrower channels surrounded by mangroves
on either side. Our boatmen became active
and the anchor was readied, but I could
not see any sign of habitation, let alone
civilization and a concrete jetty. A few
visions of being abandoned in the rainforest
or having to trek through dense undergrowth
the way one sees in the Amazon movies crossed
my mind when suddenly our boat turned and
50 metres ahead – right in the middle
of nowhere was our Erata jetty. We were
met by Johnny, Jackson’s brother and
his little son Harris and driven along the
coast for a further 2 ½ hours to
reach
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Harris |
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Cuthbert
Bay, with only a short stop to see
a pair of Collared Kingfishers Todiramphus
chloris davisoni , beautiful aquamarine
birds and this particular sub-species
being found only in the Andamans.
We arrived by noon at Hawksbill Nest
and while sitting out on the steps
and waiting for lunch, we were joined
by a couple of White headed Starlings
and a brilliant Emerald Gecko basking
on the tree trunk. An early afternoon
walk down the road revealed some Hill
Mynas, Black naped Orioles and Long
tailed and Alexandrine parakeets.
We returned and wandered down to the
beach next to a fishing village where
the first sight to greet us was a
full-fledged cricket match being played
by the young boys. As the advertisement
says “Ye India ka Cricket hai,
beerdhu” – it needs no
pitches, boundaries, wickets and can
sometimes do without a bat and ball
– all it requires is heart and
passion. A little further down the
younger children had improvised sailing
boats out of plastic cold |
drink bottles by cutting out one side and
fixing a stick mast and sail and were honing
their skills. A few men were sitting on
huge tree trunks and sawing through them.
As we watched, our cameras and scopes became
the focus of
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Cricket
Match |
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Fishing
Boat |
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attention and we soon had a very curious
and interested crowd around us. Pictures
were posed for, clicked and then giggled
over, encouraging new models to volunteer
and so it went on till a small fishing boat
approached the shore. As it neared the beach,
the women of the family came out of their
homes with baskets and aluminum containers.
Most of the fishing community in the Andamans
is originally from Andhra Pradesh and this
could be seen in the lovely black oiled
hair of the women and their typical gold
nose rings and style of wearing the sari.
The younger women have adopted the kaftan
and a duppata as their attire for more practical
comfort. As they waited the boat came to
the waters edge and then two sturdy poles
with a thick rope looped on each were brought
out. These were placed under the boat, both
in the front and at the back and with two
men shouldering the poles from either side,
the boat was lifted and carried ashore.
We sat and watched as the nets were pulled
out, stretched and inspected and the fish
disentangled and put into the baskets. A
dead jellyfish was discarded as the rest
of the fish were sorted. We asked for a
few fish and were given three in a bag for
the princely sum of ten rupees and had the
freshest fish curry – straight from
ocean into the pot - for dinner.
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Collared
Kingfisher Todiramphus chloris
davisoni |
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Pacific
Golden Plover Pluvialis fulva |
During the day we had seen some swifts flying
in and out of our building and on learning
that they nest here we decided to investigate
and discovered a couple of nests with at
least 5 juveniles clinging onto each. After
this it was a night walk down to the beach
again, this time with the hope of seeing
some nesting turtles. Olive Ridleys are
supposed to lay their eggs along this stretch
of beach during the season, though not in
the great numbers as are seen at the annual
arribada in Orissa. Unfortunately for us,
we were a little early for the season, it
was the next night after full moon and the
tide was high, all conditions not auguring
well for any sighting. As we walked down
the beach in the moonlight with the waves
crashing in, we were stopped by a water
channel that had become impassable due to
the rushing waters of the incoming tide.
Reluctantly our mission was aborted and
we called it a night.
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Glossy
Swiftlet Collocalia esculenta
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Glossy
Swiftlet Collocalia esculenta
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An early morning walk through the village
where a rooster crowed indignantly at all
still asleep lazybones, children rushed
about to get ready and play and the women
swept their thresholds and we were at the
beach where the catch was being unloaded
and dogs waited patiently for something
to come their way. We passed all this and
walked on scanning the shores and we saw
atleast 6 Collared Kingfishers sitting on
the driftwood, 2 White throated, a couple
of Whimbrel, a Common Sandpiper, Jungle
Crows on the trees and a White-bellied Sea
Eagle soaring above. Then it was time to
get organized, pack and get into our vehicles
and for an 8 hour drive to Wandoor in South
Andamans.
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White-headed
Starling Sturnus erythropygius |
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Little
Heron Butorides striata
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The main reason for taking this long drive
was that it passes through the Jarawa Forest
Reserve and you may get to see some of the
tribals. The Andaman and Nicobar Islands
have been inhabited by various tribal people
for more than 2000 years with two distinct
ethnic groups – the people of the
Andamans being Negrito while those inhabiting
the Nicobars being Mongoloid. As the islands
started getting populated by people from
the mainland some of the tribes were assimilated
but often with disastrous results as foreign
disease and infections decimated their numbers.
A couple of tribes – the Jarawa (the
word means “other" or “stranger”
in Andamanese) and the North Sentinelise
held out wanting to continue to maintain
their own life style and culture. These
people still live as a community of Hunter-gatherers,
wear almost no clothes, decorate their bodies
and faces with coloured clay, use stone,
bone and shell weapons and implements, bows
and arrows, spears, harpoons, adze, and
are one with the forest which is their home.
All their needs are fulfilled by the forest,
centuries of traditional knowledge making
them familiar with all the uses of the trees
and plants of the area as well as the best
places and seasons to hunt, and they require
nothing more. The great Andaman Road cuts
through a part of the forest which is their
reserve. All the vehicles have to collect
at the gates of the reserve which are opened
at specific times and then all go in together
as a convoy with police escort (more for
the protection of the Jarawa people from
curious intruders). You are not allowed
to stop, get off or take pictures of the
tribals. Along the more than 40 km stretch
we must have seen 15 Jarawa, men, women
and children in small groups, some with
hunting spears, the women with flowers around
their necks and baskets on their backs and
the children just running around as fascinated
by us as we were by them. It felt almost
surreal, like traveling in a time-machine
and going back a few millennia, coming face-to-face
with living pre-history. It is amazing that
in our fast-paced world with rockets and
virtual reality and internet, a few pockets
have stopped time and still manage to survive
holding onto their traditional ways, their
culture, folklore, language and identity,
teaching us the simplicity of life and how
our actual and real needs are so easily
fulfilled. Let us hope that they remain
content and uncorrupted for as long as possible.
Then we were out of the reserve, back to
the world of bustling small towns and hurrying
people and two vehicle- ferry crossovers
and many hours of driving later, we finally
arrived at the ANET Centre at Wandoor, our
home for the next two days.
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ANET |
Wandoor, South Andaman
We drove through little towns and villages,
picked up prawns for dinner, drove through
fields of paddy and turned right on a narrow
concrete road that lead to the gates of
ANET – Andaman & Nicobar Island
Environment Team, a centre set up some years
ago by Rom Whitaker of Madras Crocodile
Bank Trust, Chennai for the study and conservation
of the reptiles and other fauna and flora
of the islands. The centre is managed by
John, Jackson’s uncle so we felt like
we were amongst family again. Jackson and
his extended family are Karen people from
Burma. 35 Karen families were brought to
North Andaman and settled in Mayabandar
by the British in 1925 and continue to live
there following their traditional livelihoods
of farming and fishing. Today the second
and third generations like Jackson and his
brothers speak fluent English and are moving
into professions like dive instructors and
masters and sailing boats while uncle John
does research on turtles and works towards
creating awareness and new opportunities
for his community. The younger Karens may
have moved out of Mayabandar but are still
restricted to working on the islands with
only a handful having ever moved to the
mainland.
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Room |
John showed us around the centre which he
had helped to set up and is constructed
like traditional structures on stilts with
walls made of bamboo slats set in frames
and thatched roofs. There is a wonderful
two storey office building with wooden floors
– the lower floor is treated like
an educational centre where groups of children
from Port Blair come for camps and the second
floor houses a fantastic library used by
the scientists and scholars who come to
do research. Our accommodation was similar
– bamboo and thatched huts with windows
that are bamboo frames that open upwards
and are kept in place by small wooden poles.
The bathroom was a smaller structure a few
feet from the room with a sink with no taps.
The water is collected in large drums and
used with a mug. All this set in thick forest
at the back and with ponds and mangroves
and a beach in the front. Just perfect.
Early next morning we headed for a walk
to the beach before breakfast. The first
birds to greet us were Fairy Bluebirds and
Black naped Monarchs. The Andaman Brown
Coucal skulked in the trees and undergrowth.
We walked through
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Brown
Coucal Centropus andamanensis |
wet mud trying to side step the cone shells
and breathing roots of the mangroves. In
this part of the Andamans the effects and
devastation of the Tsunami of 2004 are clearly
visible. Tall waves had apparently reached
as far as the ANET Centre and there is evidence
of this all around. The trees are like black
burnt out stumps, killed by an excess of
salt water. Everywhere you look you see
dead palm trees standing like mute stumps
without any foliage on top.
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Effects
and devastation of the Tsunami of
2004
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Effects
and devastation of the Tsunami of
2004
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Near the coast tall and ancient trees lie
uprooted like fallen warriors, their network
of roots all exposed. The impact of the
tsunami was more intensely felt in the Nicobars
and in Little and South Andaman. Shorelines
have changed, some reefs were exposed and
consequently died while some shelves got
further submerged and the reefs could not
get sufficient light and have also died.
Our Karen guide Aghu was in Nicobar studying
turtles with a team of researchers when
the tsunami struck and was the only one
to survive by clinging onto a log for 17
days with broken collarbones and ribs and
numerous injuries. It is hard to imagine
all that violence and fury as you walk towards
a calm
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Red-breasted
Parakeet Psittacula alexandri
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blue sunlit sea with
birds chirping and orchids and ferns
growing all around. Near the shore
were groups of Red breasted Parakeets
and Vernal Hanging Parrots. Collared
Kingfishers were more numerous than
white breasted and a Stork billed
called loudly and settled in a stump
in front of us giving good views for
a few minutes. Another call and a
Ruddy Kingfisher flew by. An old tree
was the hub of activity with White
headed Starlings, White eyes, Chestnut
headed Bee-eaters and Imperial Pigeons
all doing their own thing at their
own pace. On the walk back we saw
an Asian Brown Flycatcher, Red Collared
doves and a juvenile black napped
Oriole making a meal out of a fat
worm. We headed back for our breakfast
and then ventured towards the back
of the centre which is thickly forested.
We searched for the Andaman Brown
crake |
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fleeting glimpses in the undergrowth.
There is no path to walk and the forest
is so dense that Aghu walked ahead
with machete in hand cutting down
impassable branches and lianas. Despite
this we still managed to get cut and
bruised in numerous places but you
feel very brave and adventurous as
you breathlessly clamber up steep
slopes so we quite enjoyed ourselves.
We would have never ever found our
way out of the forest but our guides
obviously could see invisible maps
and we descended out of the jungle
into the mangroves where we were wading
knee deep in water. In Delhi it takes
us half an hour to gather the courage
to jump over a two foot puddle and
if the chances are that your shoes
might get wet, you are more likely
to turn back and look for alternate
routes. So here we were, very virtuous
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Stork-billed
Kingfisher Halcyon capensis |
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impressed with ourselves, when John told
us this is the regular Nature trail for
the visiting school children. And of course
when you start getting smug you have to
pay a price – my foot got stuck in
the mud and in the struggle (without any
handhold) to free myself, I unbalanced forwards
and dipped the camera and binoculars around
my neck into the saltwater. The binoculars
survived but the camera went ballistic flashing
red lights and finally died an untimely
“irrepairable” death. All that
fuss over a few drops of water, really!
Despite the fact that there were no birds
to be seen or even heard we hugely enjoyed
our physical challenge and got treated to
the sight of a mangrove snake swimming in
front of us, being chased and caught by
Aghu and brought for our inspection. A couple
of pictures clicked (not by me) and he was
released unharmed. Then we waded our way
out and back to the camp and a bath with
collected pond water out which I rescued
a desperately swimmimg Staghorn Beetle.
Lunch and rest and then on our way to the
Mahatma Gandhi National Park where we checked
out the interpretation centre and then moved
on towards Sipighat. Along the route there
was evidence of the tsunami with the tree
stumps standing in water and Egrets sitting
on top of them. We stopped 1 km short of
Sipighat to check out a Little Heron and
found a Pacific Golden Plover, Whimbrel
and Common Sandpiper next to him. A Common
Kingfisher sat on a twig while a White-throated
patrolled the area. As we walked we flushed
out two very long-billed birds which on
closer inspections and many minutes of viewing
turned out to be a pair of Swinhoes Snipes
– another lifer. When we finally reached
sipighat the light was fading but we could
still make out groups of Golden, Greater
Sand and Kentish Plovers wading and feeding.
One little bird looked different and stood
out and was identified as the Broadbilled
Sandpiper. As we walked the bunds hundreds
of Bank Mynas crowded into mangrove trees
to roost, filling the air with their noisy
chatter. We headed back to our own roost
passing a few village boys with air guns,
evidence that wild birds are still fair
game in these parts.
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Mount
Harriet National Park
|
Next morning at dawn we were headed for
Mount Harriet. A five minute stop at the
Chouldari swamps showed numerous Purple
Swamphens strategically poised on mounds,
Egrets and one Yellow bittern. We drove
on and halted at Bamboo Flat for breakfast
– piping hot freshly steamed idlis.
Outside our makeshift restaurant a little
fish market flourished with women selling
Barracuda, squid and sharks with their fins
already cut off. We reached the gates of
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Sharks
being sold in the fish market |
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Sharks
being sold in the fish market |
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Mount Harriet and got down to check some
sounds coming from the trees – a pair
of Andaman woodpeckers and an Andaman drongo
were here to welcome us. After this auspicious
start we began our 2 km climb up with an
expectant frame of mind. Birding in the
Andamans is challenging at best. It is very
difficult to see the birds in the thick
forest and even if you do catch a glimpse
its more like a jigsaw puzzle – bits
and pieces through leaves and covering twigs.
Sometimes you see the legs, sometimes the
head and sometimes only the sides and you
have to mentally put all this together to
form and identify the bird. And to top it
all, they are scarce. We walked uphill winding
around the
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Andaman
Serpent Eagle Spilornis
elgini |
|
|
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Andaman
Drongo Dicrurus andamanensis
andamanensis |
|
mountain where the 2 km seemed more like
20 and only managed to get good looks of
the Andaman Serpent Eagle. Needletails flew
about and around one bend we saw a small
flock of Scarlet Minivets with a Racket
tailed Drongo and Imperial Pigeon. The Serpent
Eagle accompanied us all the way up calling
out to draw our attention. Despite the paucity
of birdlife the walk was beautiful –
wonderful thick forest with old Banyan trees,
butterflies - some familiar and
| some completely
new- and brilliant orange and yellow
hammerhead worms crawling amid the
fallen leaves. When you reach the
top the view is amazing – the
forested island going down to the
sea, beaches with white surf rolling
in, ships looking like toys in the
distance and the lighthouse that is
picturised on our twenty rupee note
gleaming in the sunlight. There is
a long trail that goes through the
forest, down to the coast and back
again along the shore so Mount Harriet
needs a little bit of time for exploration,
but we needed to head back and return
to Port Blair so we drove back to
Bamboo Flats and caught the ferry
to the capital. The rest of the day
was spent visiting various museums
with a break for lunch at Emerald
Bay, where Punjabi palettes that have
been missing their tikkas can get
satiated. Worth a visit are |
|
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Hammerhead
Worm
|
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the anthropological museum which is quite
wonderful and gives an introduction to the
ethnic diversity of the islands; Samudrika,
a museum run by the Navy that has extensive
collections of shells and corals; the fisheries
museum which has some unusual fish in its
aquaria and a fitting end to the day is
the Sound and Light Show at the Cellular
Jail. Our last night in the Andamans had
us taking a nostalgic walk for last views
of the lights twinkling along the shores
of Port Blair and the next morning we were
flying back to Calcutta for the last leg
of our journey – the Sunderbans.
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