Over the weekend I watched a TV documentary on “Lolong” the giant crocodile.
He looked lethargic, although of course I’m no expert in crocodile expressions. My idea of a lively crocodile is one whose maw is wide open and ready to bite my head off.
Lolong didn’t chomp what looked like chicken that was tossed to him. Maybe he doesn’t like dead meat? Crocodiles, we are told, can go for days and even weeks without eating. After gulping down an entire water buffalo, who would be hungry? But as far as I know it’s always a bad sign when animals lose their appetite. I don’t think that reptile expert interviewed on TV was exaggerating when she warned that stress from captivity could kill Lolong.
You’d feel stressed, too, if you are suddenly relocated against your will from a wildlife home nearly the size of Quezon City to a pen that even at 800 square meters is barely enough room for a 6.1-meter (20-foot) crocodile to make a U-turn. Worse, creatures Lolong used to prey on now ogle his every move, with Jamaican reggae band Inner Circle blaring “a la la la la long” all day long. It’s enough to drive anyone batty.
If I were a resident of the communities around Agusan Marsh, I can sleep better these days with Lolong in captivity. And if the beast is in danger of dying from stress, my only possible concern, if I have the luxury of worrying about the plight of dangerous reptiles that want me for dinner, is that he is certified first by the Guinness World Records as the largest crocodile on the planet before he croaks.
But conservationists have also raised a valid concern: should people live in marshland, and to what extent should human activities disrupt a wetland ecosystem? Why should Lolong be uprooted from his natural habitat because he ate (or is suspected to have eaten) a carabao plus a human or two?
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The TV documentary showed bamboo-and-nipa huts lashed to a log raft, floating in the Agusan Marsh. A native pig trotted around one floating home. Children paddled canoes around the marsh.
If I were a 20-foot crocodile hunting for lunch, that pig and those children would be irresistibly easy prey.
Manobo tribal people reportedly live deep within the marsh, but I’m not sure if those were Manobos in the TV report.
The Agusan Marsh is a wildlife sanctuary protected by law. Occupying about 14,835.989 hectares, it is roughly one-fourth the size of Metro Manila.
It is one of the country’s largest freshwater catch basins. In 1999, it received Ramsar status from the United Nations, meaning it is recognized as one of the world’s “wetlands of international importance” and must be subjected to conservation and sustainable utilization. Ramsar is a town in Mazandaran, Iran where the Convention on Wetlands of International Importance was adopted by participating countries on Feb. 2, 1971. The convention came into force on Dec. 21, 1975. There are currently about 1,950 wetlands in the Ramsar List, with 160 contracting nations.
The Agusan wildlife sanctuary, located in the interior of northeastern Mindanao, includes freshwater marshes, swamp forests, lakes, pools and rivers, as well as one of the biggest sites for peat. More than 200 individual species of birds, including those that periodically flee from the harsh winters in northeast Asia and Russia, have been spotted in the wildlife sanctuary.
The marsh is also home to the largest population of estuarine crocodiles in the country, and to an endangered Philippine Crocodile species. The reptiles feed on fish that abound in the area, plus the occasional human and carabao that strays into the crocodiles’ path.
Humans, of course, can hunt down predators. Those who are opposing proposals to return Lolong to the marsh argue that the famous reptile could be killed by residents to protect themselves from attack, or by hunters after crocodile hide, which is used for luxury shoes and handbags. It’s too much trouble to hunt crocodiles for food. Only the meat at the junction of the tail and torso is edible.
Those who captured Lolong portray themselves as his rescuers. They argue that the special place now being built for him in Bunawan town, in an eco-park and wildlife reservation in Sitio Masapya, Barangay Consuelo, a few kilometers away from the town proper, is for the reptile’s own protection.
The alternative is to return Lolong to his natural home, but only after relocating tribal communities in the marsh to special areas where they can have a measure of protection from attacks by natural predators, including crocodiles.
Portions of the Agusan Marsh have been developed into rice paddies and allotted to fish pens. I don’t know if this is allowed in a protected area.
Those who make their living from the wetlands can be assisted in shifting to ecotourism as their source of livelihood. Certain areas in the wetlands can be designated for sightseeing boats, while other sections are closed off to the public.
I’ve been on such a boat tour in the Florida Everglades, where the guide advised us to keep an eye out not just for the many species of birds but also for alligators. Like other guides on such nature tours, we were told that wildlife generally avoided humans, unless the beasts felt trapped or under attack, or were hungry and came upon a seemingly unsuspecting prey.
Wild animals have always had an uneasy co-existence with humans. In competitions for territory, humans have always won. But in a world that has increasingly become concerned about the environment and preservation of species, people are taking more risks to allow wildlife to roam free.
In Tampa, Florida, people living on riverside homes told me that during hurricane season when flooding occurs, they have to make sure there’s no alligator resting on their veranda before they open the door. When that happens, the reptiles are not shot, although packing guns is a basic right of US citizens. Instead authorities are called in to shoo the alligator back into the water.
The Agusan Marsh is home not just to crocodiles and turtles but now also to the Burmese python, which can grow as long as Lolong and can be just as deadly to humans. Should the pythons be hunted down and killed, or kept in a zoo, to keep humans safe? Or should humans stay out of the marsh, limiting their forays into the wetlands to sightseeing?
The plight of Lolong opens an opportunity for defining national policy on wildlife and protected areas.