Fishing gangs visit the river at night and the guards do nothing to stop them.
Working in large groups, boatmen use fishing methods that have long been banned in this part of the Mekong – one of Asia’s largest rivers – such as gillnetting, which uses nets that hang like a curtain in the water and slip. fishing in the water, and electrofishing.
Often, the guards intervened. But these days they are almost united out of fear and compassion for the neighbors who have been affected by the epidemic.
Cambodia’s strict fishing regulations, first introduced in 2006, are vital to the economy of the Mekong dolphin, giving the rare but nationally loved animal a chance to survive after decades of decline.
But while keeping dolphins is popular in Cambodia’s poor river areas – and some make money from the tourists they bring in – the economic impact of the outbreak, which has seen borders closed for months, has forced some to take action to feed their families.
“We are trying to protect the dolphins but the pirates are catching them,” said 63-year-old Sun Koeung, who earns as much as $15 a day by taking people to the water to watch the dolphins.
He says illegal fishermen go to the river at 11pm, an hour after the River Guards finish their duty.
“If we lose the dolphins, there is no money,” he added.
Illegal work, hidden from view, helps explain why Mekong dolphins are struggling despite nearly two decades of efforts to save them.
Mekong dolphins are a subspecies of Irrawaddy dolphins, found throughout Asia. Its distinctive mouth makes it look like it’s smiling and its wit and playfulness have captivated people for generations. River people in Laos and Cambodia revere dolphins as reincarnated ancestors.
Dozens of dolphins used to live in the waters of the Mekong, which flows from China to Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. Today, there are only 89 dolphins left in Cambodia.
The high death toll, especially among baby dolphins, has conservationists fearing for their future. There is a margin of error because dolphins only give birth every two to three years.
“Back in 2009, we thought we were going to make a change,” said Randall Reeves, a scientist with the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) and an advisor to the Cambodia program. “I don’t see that we don’t have them.”
The issue of dolphins is one of millions of global biodiversity issues as governments sit down this week to meet biodiversity goals at the long-delayed COP15 in Montreal. Without action, a million plant and animal species will disappear within decades, scientists warn.
However, the recovery of some iconic species, such as black eagles in the United States, pandas in China and tigers in South Asia, shows that targeted, politically supported initiatives can produce results.
It was in that spirit that Cambodia and Laos partnered with IUCN and the Worldwide Fund for Nature (WWF) to save the Mekong dolphin more than 10 years ago.
Early preventive measures
In Cambodia, the dolphins had a strong hero in Touch Seang Tana, a fishing expert who called them symbols of “national heritage” and made their protection a priority.
Once a singer in a popular Cambodian band, the beautiful Tana rose through the ranks to join the Council of Ministers, Prime Minister Hun Sen’s cabinet.
In 2006, he became the head of Cambodia’s Dolphin Commission, responsible for overseeing the recovery process.
Tana planned to keep the dolphins as a fishing problem and liked a strong hand to control it.
That year, Cambodia banned dolphin nets in dolphin-friendly areas. To enforce the ban, it established the River Guards to monitor the waters and confiscate illegal fishing gear. With the help of foreign funding, the team grew to 72 pilots with motorboats, mobile phones, night vision goggles and a pilot plane.
By 2017, the measures seemed to be working: The number of dolphins increased from 80 to 92.
But there were also problems.
Some people in the rivers are angry that stricter fishing regulations are being enforced in the absence of efforts to find alternative sources of income, said Isabel Beasley, a scientist who started the Mekong dolphin farming project in 1997.
To feed their families, some bribed the River Guard to look the other way, he said.
Some even buried the dolphins they found, out of fear of punishment, according to two former WWF officials.
According to a joint report by the staff, the program failed to register several deaths in 2009, 2012 and 2014.
But in Cambodia’s political climate, talking about these issues seemed to confuse Tana who insisted that the main issue was gill nets, even though poverty – the source of illegal fishing – persists.
Speaking to Al Jazeera, Tana said people living in riverside villages were given tractors and water pumps to increase their income from farming.
“I gave satellite TVs to each village, two or three so they could gather to watch the broadcasts. They were happy,” he said.
He criticizes foreign NGOs for sometimes exaggerating dolphin deaths and says that in 2014, the year he retired, there were 220 dolphins.
They deny that the dolphin deaths were missed, pointing to strict monitoring by WWF and researchers.
NGOs are good. Like WWF,” said Tana. “But people who work in NGOs are people,” he said. “Some people want to be the big man. ‘I’m an NGO or the biggest organization in the world. I have to control everything, you have to follow me.’ No. I can’t accept that.
Development is king
On the Laos-Cambodia border, where the Mekong River rises to the main river basin, the dolphins were at their worst.
By 2012, these “cross-border” people had dwindled to six, the smallest group that could have a strong defense.
Lao officials really supported the dolphins. Lao’s endangered species list gave Mekong dolphins the highest level of legal protection.
But in practice, Lao officials “seem to be reluctant to commit” to adapting to Cambodia’s complex fishing practices, said Somany Phay, an official at the Cambodia Fisheries Administration who has tried to coordinate strategies with Laos.
“The people of Laos saw it as a difficult issue,” he said.
The dolphins’ habitat intersected with the world’s most important commodity: energy.
In 201, Laos approved the Don Sahong dam, a project to transfer energy to Cambodia. Laos has built many dams as a way for the country to export electricity.
WWF asked Laos to reconsider, saying that building the dams would destroy the dolphins’ ears, “almost” killing the last six.
Despite this, the dam became operational in 2020.
Last February, WWF-Laos confirmed the death of the last survivor, whom some called “Lone George”.
For others, it was a harsh reminder that while conservation was important, ultimately development was king.
“They are proud of the dolphins,” lamented an official from the Lao side. “But they don’t put resources in.” The source declined to be named out of fear of repercussions in the highly scrutinized country.
The mystery of the dead dolphins
Although Cambodia’s policies have resulted in the survival of large dolphins, the high number of infant deaths still baffles scientists.
In 2020, eight calves were born but four died, according to reports.
Dolphins live 27-30 years. Of the current population, 70 percent are over 20, according to WWF.
Over the years, newborn corpses have been found with signs that scientists consider strange or incomprehensible: skull fractures, blue lesions around the throat and sometimes no signs of injury.
Samples of teeth and tissues were sent to labs in the US, many bodies were necropsied and genetic and bacterial cultures were analyzed, among many attempts to solve this mystery.
No one has come up with a clear answer, said Frances Gulland, chairwoman of the US Marine Mammal Commission and a former adviser to the Cambodia program.
Gulland pointed out the size of small samples – only two to seven samples per year – and insufficient local waste to receive new bodies, without disturbing and analyzing them. “These animals are sometimes liquid” when they get to the lab, he said.
Next month he and a small team of scientists will travel to Cambodia to discuss other aspects of the program and begin work on population estimates.
But critics say the dolphin project is a sign of IUCN’s weaknesses.
IUCN scientists are unpaid volunteers and often have limited travel time.
How will they manage? Just talk,” said Verné Dove, a veterinarian who worked on the project from 2006 to 2011 and has just published an article detailing infant deaths from disease.
“It’s time to do something.”
