Poacher-turned-turtle-protector Santram Nishad immerses his hand into the steaming hot sand, baked by the 45 degree Celsius sun. “It’s time,” he says, as his fingers grope through the sand for the hatchling to pop out. There is not just one ‘baby’ but many that will come out from the earth’s womb, where they have been left to incubate in the makeshift turtle nursery by the banks of the Chambal river.
Think turtles and the first image that comes to mind is the mass nesting of Olive Ridleys off the coast of Odisha. But their poorer cousins, the fresh water turtles, once found in rivers across India receive scant attention.
With another World Turtle Day passing by on May 23, it’s time to focus on these creatures and the handful of biologists who are turning the tide by hatching eggs in captivity and releasing the young turtles in the wild.
Nishad gently lifts the hatchling in the air, it’s not possible to tell at this stage, just by looking, if it’s male or female. But for a species that has not more than 500 of its kind left in the wild, each hatchling counts.
Poacher-turned-conservationist
Nishad till a few years ago used to supply turtles by the kilo to poachers. He now plays foster mother to more than 200 nests along the banks of the Chambal, a sanctuary that straddles the three states of Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh.
He used to earn a living by selling turtle eggs and live turtles that were shipped out from India’s porous borders to markets in South East Asia.
He now guards these nests with his life against predators like stray dogs or jackals and sometimes even dacoits, though he admits, “Dacoits are harmless, they usually just ask us to cook them a meal and go away quietly.”
The creature that has just made its way out of the sun-baked sand is the critically endangered red-crowned roofed turtle. The male has a striking red colour on its head and neck, used to attract females in the wild. Another species that cohabits the nursery is the three-striped roofed turtle, which is also struggling for survival. One by one Nishad eases the hatchlings out of the sand and pops them into a plastic bucket. The newborns clamber over each other, sounding like corn popping in a microwave. They are impatient, they want to make it fast to their real home—the cool waters of the Chambal River.
“Not so fast,” says scientist Dr. Shailendra Singh from the Turtle Survival Alliance, as he gets ready with a sharp needle. He must first delicately put an injectable tag that gives every animal released an individual number. Against each animal, its vital data like length and weight is recorded. The data will help scientists determine the basic biological parameters for a species about which so little is known.
Singh is a chelonian conservationist, in other words he is crazy about turtles. As a child, he had two turtles as pets and would walk miles to rescue any turtle that seemed to be in distress in village ponds. His childhood passion translated into extensive research studying the population structure of a turtle species in the Gomti River. He’s now focussing his attention on ensuring that turtles are not wiped out from the Chambal valley.
Once the babies are weighed, the ninjas are ready for their final release. The full bucket is taken to the edge of the water and tipped over. There is a mad scramble as the hatchlings race each other to the cool river. Once they take to the water, it’s a smooth ride.
The National Chambal Sanctuary is a nature paradise. Famed for its crocodilian species, the Indian mugger and the Indian gharial, few know that the river is also home to nine species of turtles. In just one year, Singh and his teammates have been able to protect over 600 nests that resulted in 9,622 baby turtles. Singh is proud that their overall hatching success was an impressive 83%, reflecting the true success of the project.
So why do turtles need assistance through riverside hatcheries? Singh explains that this segment of the Chambal River is heavily impacted by sand collection, riverside agriculture, and clandestine fishing that’s forbidden in a sanctuary area. Perhaps the biggest threat comes at the most crucial stage in the lifecycle of the turtle. Water from dams in Rajasthan are released between March and May, when the turtles are nesting or hatching. A huge gush of water inundates the nests, leading to mass mortalities. “I have written to the Biodiversity Board. In 2015, there was such a huge release of water from the dams that around 500 turtle nests were flooded. We had to quickly collect the eggs and shift them. We are struggling to tell people that red-crowned turtle and birds like the Indian skimmer on this stretch of the Chambal are more threatened than gharials,” says Singh.
Illegal wildlife trade
There is very little known about river turtles, but sadly we seem to be losing them before we can even begin knowing. In March this year, Singh was alerted by the police about the confiscation of 23 critically endangered red-crowned roofed turtles, en route to foreign markets. Confiscated from two poachers linked with an illegal international wildlife trade network, the extremely rare animals were immobilised with packing tape and stuffed into suitcases and bound for the Chennai port. Fortunately, they were caught by the U.P. police and the Wildlife Crime Control Bureau.
The rescued animals were then sent to Garhaita Turtle Conservation Centre in Etawah. Injury marks and a fungal infection on their shells tell a sad story. Singh is hopeful that once the infection is cured and their quarantine period is over, they can be released into the Chambal.
Police officer Arvind Chaturvedi, in charge of the branch of the U.P. Police Special Task Force that cracks down on wildlife crime, was responsible for busting this racket. Chaturvedi made history in January this year when he busted a poaching racket that involved more than 6,500 Indian flapshell turtles. It is considered the largest wildlife racket bust that India has seen in recent times. Flapshell turtles are sold in the black market as aphrodisiac, and these were being carted in jute bags to markets in Kolkata.
Singh, Nishad and Chaturvedi, each in their own way, represent a handful of individuals struggling to keep these endangered species alive. As the last of the hatchlings make their way into the river, one can only hope they are swimming towards a better future.
The author is a conservation biologist currently working on a book for
Oxford University Press.
