I’ve decided to integrate my mobile uploads here on the blog, to centralize my updates and keep the blog updated more often.

The first of these was taken just 20mins ago in downtown Beijing. I’m on assignment today and as you can see, it’s another quite terrible day in the capital. Pictured is the iconic CCTV building, shrouded in haze. I’m trying not to breath too much while out shooting today!

John MacKinnon, of the EU-China Biodiversity Programme

SEAN GALLAGHER, FOR THE PULITZER CENTER, BEIJING, CHINA

John MacKinnon, of the EU-China Biodiversity Program, is one the world’s leading experts on biodiversity and the environment in China. He began his career in 1965 working with Jane Goodall in the famed study of the chimpanzees of Gombe. In 1968, he moved to Southeast Asia to study orangutans under the supervision of Nobel laureate Niko Tinbergen.

MacKinnon first went to China in 1987 to work on the World Wildlife Fund’s Giant Panda project. He is an expert and author of 17 books on birds and mammals in China and has served for 14 years as co-chair for the China Council for International Cooperation on Environment and Development. He was awarded the prestigious Order of Golden Ark, with highest rank of Commander by Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands for his lifetime services to conservation.

I caught up with him last month in the Beijing headquarters of the EU-China Biodiversity Program where we discussed some of the issues currently facing China’s wetlands.

This is an abridged version of the interview.

What are your thoughts with regard to biodiversity affected by wetland disappearance?

Probably of all ecosystems, wetlands are the most endangered because water is just used by people everywhere. So there is hardly a stream in China that doesn’t have somebody putting [something] into it or taking water out of it.

Everything is messed up with pollution–pipes taking off water for agriculture, for industry, for household use, building weirs across rivers to divert the water into little gullies. And then it gets bigger and bigger, up to these huge dams that the government has been putting in all over the place. China has thousands of these dams now which are having a profound impact on the water system. It means that fish and frogs can no longer move up and down river systems. Some are seasonal and need to go up into the head stream in the summer and lay eggs where the young can breed. And then in the winter these are frozen up, so they have to move down to the lower waters. Can’t do it anymore. So a lot of the species, a lot of the fish are endangered. Some are extinct.

Are there any general trends you have noticed in China over the past 50-60 years?

I’ve been working in China on biodiversity conservation since the late ’80′s, 25 years almost, and of course there has been a huge increase in the number of nature reserves, the number of staff, budgets devoted to wildlife conservation and also things like CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species) controlling trade in wildlife species, but despite all that you have to come to the conclusion that wildlife is deteriorating rapidly in China.

About a third of all species are endangered according to the Red List. Often habitats seem to be in reasonable condition, but you can walk through them for hours and hours and hours and almost see no large animals. The pressures of hunting, economic exploitation for medicine, for sale of animals has just put too much pressure [on the environment]. Plus, the fragmentation of habitats due to road developments, agriculture encroachment, industrial sprawl; it’s too much pollution, dust, etcetera. Everything is against wildlife. And now we have climate change, just to add more problems.

What are your thoughts on issues such as eco-tourism and other ways to ‘save’ wetlands and water in China?

Eco-tourism is often rolled out as the great savior that’s going to justify saving all these areas and bring money to the local communities. The way it develops is that the local communities usually get excluded and investors are usually outsiders coming in, trying to monopolize and take over the whole industry. The industry is unregulated, so it ends up damaging the very resource it came to protect. So, there are a lot of places in China where you can definitely say there are far too many people, even in very beautiful places. So, I think nature tourism inside really important wildlife biodiversity areas in China has to be really regulated.

What is your one biggest fear with regard to China and its water issues?

My fear for biodiversity is great but my fear for China is greater. I think China has the natural resources, it has the space, it has the minerals, it has the manpower to continue to grow as it has for the last 20 years—i.e. ten percent, ten percent, ten percent. What is going to stop it in its tracks is water. That’s the limiting factor. They may not be able to have as much water as they are able to enjoy now in the future. So this may cause a big dip in the development of China. And then what does China do? Then it has to turn on the resources of the rest of the world. Then it will find that there are too many people and already too much demand for so many resources that it can no longer cope.

So, I think that’s the driver behind policy [of] buying up big tracts of land in the Congo [and] around the world, accessing resources way beyond its boundaries. But water is going to be top of the list of shortages.

If someone in the U.S. or U.K. said to you, “Why should I care about what’s happening in China? Why should I care about wetlands disappearing in China?” What would be your response?

There are many angles to the concern for China’s wetlands. First of all, they’re not just China’s wetlands; these are international wetlands that are part of huge bird flyways between Russia, Indonesia and Australia. There are other species that fly from east to west, flying from East Asia across into Central Asia and Europe.

There’s a global concern about wildlife generally. This is a big chunk of our natural heritage at the global level. But also, we are concerned about China because it is such a big player in the world.

Wetlands are indicators of environmental health. If China is uninhabitable–as evidenced by its birds and fish dying–you have to worry. What’s that going to do China? What’s that going to do to the rest of the world? China’s potentially the biggest importer of food. If China suddenly isn’t food self-sufficient and starts needing food from the rest of the world, that’s going to shoot prices up. The world is all connected now. We have to worry about China, just as anywhere else.

Regular visitors here may have noticed that I haven’t posted in a little while. Apologies for that. I have just returned from a 2-week trip to the US, taking part in speaking engagements at high schools and universities across the country. With the help of the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting, I’ve been speaking about environmental issues in China, trying to get students to connect to my stories and relate them to what issues are affecting their local communities.

As I zig-zagged across America, travelling mostly by plane, my mind started to wander onto the impact our air travel has on our planet. As a working photographer and videographer, my assignments normally require me to travel quickly from place to place, mostly by plane. My work focuses mainly on issues affecting the environment, so I try to live my life with those environmental issues in mind and the impact that I, as an individual, am having. Flying however is one the issues I most struggle with, made worse by the fact I find it a very enjoyable way to travel.

When you start to delve into the latest statistics about air travel and CO2 emissions, you quickly discover some frightening numbers. Some predictions point out that by 2025, airlines worldwide could be spewing out 1.5 billion tons of CO2 per year, that’s half of the EU’s current total CO2 output. In 2009, total CO2 output from EU carriers did reportedly decline however it seems this only correlated with a decrease in the number of passengers flying. Some airlines do seem to be making active, positive steps towards change however, by testing biofuels. Airlines such as United Airlines for example, who flew the first flight by US commercial airline using natural gas synthetic jet fuel this year.

Sometimes though, you have to just sit back and just admire the marvel of flight. As I sat on my United Airlines flight from Washington DC to Beijing last week, my mind was wandering again on the above issues when I was distracted by what unfolded infront of me. Cruising half way between the US and China, we passed directly over the North Pole, just as dawn was breaking. It was one of the most spectacular and beautiful sunrises I have ever seen and I decided to try to record enough of it to show in a short video. It’s not everyday you see the sunrise over the North Pole. I hope you can enjoy reliving it with me, as I saw it.

I’m happy to announce that my new multimedia piece for the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting is now online. ‘The Chinese Alligator: Species on the Brink” is a look at the plight of China’s only crocodilian species and the effects of decades of wetlands reclamation on population numbers. By combining stills, video, interviews and time-lapse photography I hope this piece provides a visually interesting account of the current situation, as well as an informative one.

This is the first in a series of multimedia pieces that I will be producing for the Pulitzer Center over the coming weeks and months, so please do stay tuned for more.

The piece above is hosted on Vimeo where you can watch it in full HD at 1280×720. As it is HD, it may take a little time to load but I hope it’s worth the wait to get the best out of the video and stills. For all you techies out there, the whole piece was shot with a Canon 7D with 16-35mm F2.8 and 70-200 F4.0 lenses and audio was recorded on an M-Audio Microtrack II.

Once you start the piece, you will notice that there are interchanging Chinese and English subtitles. It has been one of my main aims to start reaching out to my Chinese audience more and I hope by producing these pieces in both languages that the message of the piece will reach more people. As Vimeo is blocked in China, I will be releasing this piece on Youku and Tudou soon. Please stay tuned for that.

If you have any thoughts or feelings about the piece, I am always happy to hear them!

A man walks through one of the drainage channels that make up the Dujiangyan Irrigation System.

SEAN GALLAGHER, FOR THE PULITZER CENTER, SICHUAN PROVINCE, CHINA

Water did not seem in short supply as I arrived in China’s southwest province of Sichuan. Rain was pounding on the windshield of my taxi and pools of water were starting to flow down the streets of the province’s capital, Chengdu. People scurried around the streets, desperate to get out of the storm that had quickly descended on the city.

This unsavory welcome was compounded by the delivery of  bad news from my assistant upon my arrival at my hotel. Our primary location for the week, the largest highland marsh and peat lands in Asia, Ruoer’gai in the north of Sichuan, had just been sealed off from the outside world. The heavy rains had caused  landslides which had wiped out all roads leading to the 3500 meter plateau which it sat upon. These marshes comprise half a million hectares and have been dubbed the ‘kidneys’ of the Qinghai-Tibetan plateau. Made up of 90 percent water, they act like a sponge sequestering carbon and providing a home for a vast range of highland species. A vital ecosystem and source of water, they are the origin of the Yellow River, one of China’s mightiest waterways.

In recent decades however, this important ecosystem has come under threat. According to researchers from Chengdu Institute of Biology and the Chinese Academy of Sciences, “due to global warming and unwise use of the marsh resources, including ditching for grassland enlargement, peat exploitation, and livestock grazing, since the 1970s, Zoige [Tibetan name] Marsh has suffered severe ecosystem degradations such as vegetation recessive succession, biodiversity loss, soil deterioration, and rodent disasters.”

For me, Zoige/Ruoer’gai would have to wait. Recent landslides in neighboring Gansu province had tragically taken the lives of over 100 people. The risks of traveling to these areas was too great, so I turned my attention towards a town nearer the provincial capital.

The reservoir that sits behind the Zipingpu dam.

Located approximately 50 kilometers west of Chengdu, the Min river crashes through shear faced gorges, winding its way downhill into the town of Dujiangyan. It is a stunning location as the mountains loom large around the central conurbation and the river flows through the town using a number of channels. On closer inspection, as you peer though the mild haze from the nearby crashing water, it is quickly apparent that these channels are man-made.

Originally built in 250 BC by then-governor Li Bing, the Dujiangyan Irrigation system is regarded as an “ancient engineering marvel.” By naturally channeling water from the Min River during times of flood, the irrigation system served to protect the local area from flooding and provide water to the Chengdu basin, an area of rich farmland and intense productivity. Over 2,000 years later, the system is still in operation and serves as a testament to the sustainable management of water and wetlands with minimal ecological impact.

The rain smattered my face and lens as I strolled around the center of Dujiangyan town. The rains had not ceased since my arrival and the growing amount of water in the Min river was starting to be of concern to local residents. As I peered over a barrier separating the main high street from the drainage channel below, the crashing brown water carried with it tree stumps, branches and even inflatable rafts, washed downstream from a tourist site upriver. “This does not happen very often”, said an old man to me as we both watched the amazing amount of water that was rushing through the channel just a few meters below us. If anything, this was what the system had been built for and had been doing for hundreds of years: effectively controlling water.

Pedestrians walk past a sign depicting an idyllic wetland scene in Dujiangyan.

The next day, the rain was still coming down as we waited in a traffic jam on one of the mountainsides outside of the town. Streams of water gushed by the side of the road, racing over the concrete and accelerating away from us along with mud and pieces of vegetation. Up ahead the mountainside had collapsed onto one half of the road, bringing everything to a standstill. As we crept past the mass of mud blocking the road, we made a final turn which brought us face to face with the structure we had been trying to reach: a 511 foot wall of concrete.

Just a few kilometers upstream from the Dujiangyan irrigation system sits an example of a more modern Chinese way of controlling water, the Zipingpu Dam.  Lying high in the mountains above the town and holding back 315 million tons of water, it is one of the growing army of dams in China, used to harness the power of the country’s rivers.

“Today there are more than 25,800 large dams in China, more than any other country in the world”, according to International Rivers, an organization seeking to highlight the effects of development projects affecting communities worldwide.

China’s dams are notoriously controversial. The environmental impact to wetlands are well documented and include concerns over fish migration patterns, landslides caused by bank erosion and the accumulation of industrial effluent in the resulting reservoirs.  It’s a pattern of concern which has been seen in many locations across the country.

“Is the dam safe now?” I asked my driver. “Yes, of course, no problem.” He laughed as he replied to to me but I wasn’t completely convinced.

Children play with water bubbles in a temple at the Dujiangyan Irrigation System.

In 2008, the devastating Sichuan earthquake struck just a few kilometers from Zipingpu, wiping out 80 percent of buildings in Dujiangyan alone and tragically killing over 80,000 people in the immediate area. Reports following the quake stated that “extremely dangerous cracks” had emerged in the dam, but it was the emergence of information connecting the dam and the earthquake, which elicited most concern.

According to International Rivers, “Seismologists from China’s Earthquake Bureau had warned the government back in 2000 that the project should not be built given its proximity to a major fault line, yet these warnings were ignored.” Reservoir-induced seismicity remains a controversial topic however it is just one of the many problems and issues that seem to be stacking up against the use of dams in China.

Nowhere else in China can you see two such stark examples of the different potential ways to control water. The first, a 2,000 year old cyclic system that harnesses and works with the natural ebbs and flow of the river. The second, a modern approach which seems to stifle and block, causing numerous detrimental environmental and social effects.  As China’s dam production increases, the effects on the country’s wetlands will no doubt continue to be profound.

A teenager with his yak on the shores of Qinghai Lake. 2010

SEAN GALLAGHER, FOR THE PULITZER CENTER, QINGHAI PROVINCE, CHINA

Tenzin’s green eyes bored into me as I looked at his sunburnt face. “Qinghai Lake is a very holy place for us. We regard it as the ‘soul’ of Qinghai.”

He was sitting by the side of a road running parallel to the lake shore. The sound of cars rushing past filled the air as Tenzin’s kneepads, torn and grazed, fluttered in the wind generated just a meter or two away. Tenzin was taking a momentary break from prostrating his way around the 360km circumference of the lake, in a stark and vivid act demonstrating the importance of this lake to Tibetans, who make up 80 percent of people in the region.

Located at 3200 meters above sea-level on the Qinghai-Tibetan plateau in the northwest of China, Qinghai Lake is the country’s largest inland body of saltwater at 4318 square kilometers in area. Over the past century, however, the lake has found itself in a worrying downward trend as 700 square kilometers of its area have been lost and its surface level has dropped by 13 meters.

The shores of Qinghai Lake have receded steadily over the past century. 2010

The reasons for these recent changes are surprisingly hard to pinpoint. Seasonal climactic variations have been cited by authorities, global warming by others. Overgrazing and desertification are also suspected culprits, yet the exact cause remains unclear. As studies continue, however, it is widely thought that a combination of the above factors are at work.

“I came here just after I graduated from high school, nearly 10 years ago and the water level was up there,” said my Tibetan guide, Dawa, as he pointed some 15 meters up the gentle slope behind us. We had arrived at the lake’s ‘port’ which acted as more of a tourist-trap than a functioning dock. Qinghai lake is a popular destination on the domestic tourist route, as thousands of visitors descend upon it every day, each paying handsomely to experience China’s famous “Blue Sea Lake.” Tourists ride pleasure boats, jet-skis and speedboats and are treated to views of what is genuinely a breathtakingly beautiful body of water.

Beyond the fences that encapsulate the lake and keep visitors at bay, herders and nomads roam the fringes with their flocks of yaks and sheep. Living just as their ancestors did in the region for hundreds of years before them, they live in a fluctuating existence according to the seasons, residing in the hills and mountains that surround the lake in the winter and then descending to the lake-shore in the summer.

A young man prostrates around Qinghai Lake which is sacred to Tibetans of the region. 2010

“For many years the lake has decreased [in size]“, said Norbu, a herder in his 60s who has lived in the region for over 40 years.  “Some years it retreated as much as 1 meter per year,” he commented to us as he gently guided his flock of 400 sheep around the lake.

As we sat on the east shore of the lake with Norbu, towering sand dunes loomed above us at the location which had been dubbed ‘sand island.’ This giant tongue of sand dominates the east side of the lake, stretching into the water and cleaving the grassland either side of it.

A result of westerly winds and Aeolian erosion, the desert’s grip has increased in recent years as it has taken advantage of the lake’s decrease in size. From 1958 to 2001, the sand area grew from 587.4 square kilometers to 805.8 square kilometers, prompting local authorities into action.

In 2008, the Qinghai provincial government announced an ambitious program to “restore the beauty of the lake” with an investment of 1.57 billion yuan (US$224 million) over the subsequent 10 years. The project aims to “revert 854,700 hectares of pasture to grassland, protect 276,600 hectares of wetland, harness 182,600 hectares of degraded grassland and build 34,400 hectares of forest in the area.”

Bird Island on the western shores of Qinghai Lake. The lake is an important migratory stop-off point for birds in Asia. 2010

The program also aims to relocate many of the nomadic herders who have historically lived in the area. They have not been directly blamed for degradation but authorities have indicated their concern at the threat from the one million plus sheep that graze in the region.

“Life has got harder, for sure. Five years ago, the government started to allot grasslands to nomads. Since then, we only have this land”, said Erelo, a 28-year old herder who was currently living in a traditional tent on the edges of the lake with his wife. “Also, we’ve heard that in two years, the government will remove all the nomads around the lake because they want to protect it.”

A slight drizzle broke out above the lake on the last day I was there. Dark clouds had rolled quickly in over the surrounding hills. These recent rains had led to state news outlets optimistically declaring “China’s largest saltwater lake grows after 50 years of shrinking.” The slight increase in surface area of the lake in the past two years was confirmed by the herders we spoke to, but skepticism prevailed about the long-term trend. “I’m not very sure about it stopping,” said Shuqiang Duan of Qinghai Province’s Hydrology and Water Resources Survey Bureau, when I sought his opinion if we were seeing the end of the gradual decline.

As the drizzle continued and my car turned away from the lake for the final time, my thoughts turned back to Tenzin, who was working his way around the lake that was so important to him and his faith.

“I have been around twice, so far. By circling it seven times, we can clear our sins and wrongdoings”, he told me. I couldn’t help but wish that it was that easy to solve all of the worrying trends and problems on the Qinghai-Tibetan plateau.

Join the hoards at Badaling during 'Golden Week' Holidays. 2006

<<Return to the Learning Zone In the second of my series of “Where is the best place to photograph…” (view the first one can be found here), I want to tackle possibly THE most famous landmark in the whole of the country: The Great Wall of China.

This iconic landmark is photographed like no-other and has fascinated photographers, all looking for the best vantage point in order to capture this amazing structure. But the question is; Where is the best place to photograph the Great Wall of China?

In this post, I shall offer up 4 suggestions. These are not the only locations of course. I have not visited every part and these are just my choices. If you know of, or want to recommend interesting/photogenic parts you have been to, please feel free to let us know in the comments section below and vote in the survey.  So, let’s begin….

1. Simatai 司马台

Simatai was the first piece of the Great Wall that I visited back in 2005 and as an introduction, I couldn’t of asked for a more beautiful piece of the Wall. Located just over 100km north-east of downtown Beijing, it isn’t the closest piece to the city but it well worth taking that little extra effort to get to.

A vendor on The Great Wall of China at Simatai. 2006

Simatai is characterised by very steep inclines and descents which makes for a photoshoot cum workout feel to your day. Don’t forget your walking boots for this part of the wall. It’s dramatic inclines make for some great shots if you can find a good vantage point.

Many parts of this section are in disrepair, which makes for interesting shots, however you may need to get there quick as plans are afoot to renovate it

2. Jinshanling 金山岭

If you follow the wall from Simatai for about 10km, you arrive at Jinshanling. Located near the town of Gubeikou 古北口, Jinshanling is just as impressive at Simatai and has a great selection of watchtowers (many crumbling) which can offer you impressive views.

Me (left) trying to get some good light on a subject at Jinshanling (c) Peter Marlow/Magnum Photos 2008

This site is quite popular with domestic Chinese amateur photographers. For those completely dedicated to their craft, hire a mini-bus from downtown Beijing at around midnight and make the journey to Jinshanling. Once you arrive at about 3:00 a.m.. hike up to a vantage point and get ready to shoot a spectacular sunrise over the Great Wall. You’ll probably be rubbing shoulders with a few other photographers but it’s a unique experience and one you won’t forget quickly.

3. Badaling 八达岭

One of the closest part of the Great Wall to Beijing, Badaling is actually my least favourite part of the wall. “So why am I recommending it?”, I hear you ask. Well, it’s proximity to downtown is its biggest plus point. If you are on a tight schedule, this will be your best bet at experiencing the wall. What you must be prepared for however is a wall without a brick out of place, the hoards of tourists, the vendors/hawkers and even a KFC.

The Great Wall at Badaling during 'Golden Week' October Holidays. Be prepared for crowds! 2006

If you happen to have the misfortune of finding yourself there in ‘Golden Week’, or October National Holiday, you will be rubbing shoulders with literally thousands of other visitors. It is actually a sight to behold. Tourists are funneled in their hundreds through the narrow ramparts, occasionally climbing over each other on particularly steep parts. If you like photographing humanity in a small place, this is the part of the wall for you!

4. Gansu Province 甘肃省

Leaving Beijing behind completely, my next recommendation for photographing the Great Wall is in the western reaches of the country. Incredibly, the Great Wall stretches two-thirds of the way across China ending in the dry and arid province of Gansu. Here, the wall takes on an image completely different to that at its beginnings near Beijing.

The Great Wall in the dry and arid western province of Gansu. 2009

The most famous part of the wall in this region is Jiayuguan (嘉峪关), situated in the Hexi Corridor heading west to nearby Xinjiang Province. The area is barren which makes the presence of the wall really quite dramatic. Many of the sections in this region have been battered by hundreds of years of wind and are threatened by desertification, so are therefore sometimes hard to distinguish as actual parts of the wall! In the desert setting though, these remnants can make great subjects for capturing a unique side of the wall.

[polldaddy poll=3674818]

<<Return to the Learning Zone

TEDx Canton

Next week sees the arrival of TEDx on the Guangzhou Science Center, in southern China. I feel very flattered and honoured to have been invited to be one of the speakers at the event, talking about my recent work over the past couple of years for the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. For those of you who are free on Saturday 4th September, click the picture above to get info about how you can get hold of some of the last remaining tickets that are available. I am sure that it is going to be an amazing day, with great talks and attended by a lot of very interesting people.

If you see me there, please come and say hi!

Sand ships on Dongting lake in Hunan Province.

SEAN GALLAGHER FOR THE PULITZER CENTER, HUNAN PROVINCE, CHINA

I was starting to feel a little anxious as I approached the shores of Dongting Lake in China’s central Hunan province. From a distance, I easily spied the country’s second largest freshwater lake. As I approached, waves lapped up on the shore, breaking near the barriers separating the lake from the nearby walkway.  As I peered over the barriers and gazed further, I saw clumps of green protruding from the water. They were tree tops. This wasn’t exactly the scene I was expecting.

Dongting Lake has been reported as a lake in crisis. Dropping water levels have sent alarm-bells ringing in scientific and environmental circles, as the area of the lake has reportedly dropped by nearly 50 percent in the past 70 years. What I was witnessing however appeared to be the opposite. One fact was certain, this was a lake in an incredible state of flux.

CHINA. Waves lap onto a walkway in Yueyang city next to Dongting Lake, Hunan Province. Due to flooding, the lake has temporarily increased in size. 2010

“You’ve come at a time of flood,” reassured Liu Juxiang, as we chugged along in her compact water-taxi, used to ferry goods from the lake’s shore to waiting ships on the water. “Three months later, the water will become less. Many places have no water. The water could become one kilometer wide in the dry period, while it’s two kilometers wide now.”

Lying just off the Yangtze River, Dongting Lake has served as an essential buffer zone in times of flood in the region, receiving excess water from China’s mightiest river and protecting many downstream. In recent decades however, the lake has shrunk dramatically, causing scientists to begin investigating the causes of these changes and their effects on one of the country’s most important lakes.

CHINA. Flooding of Dongting Lake in Hunan Province has pushed water onto industrial land in nearby Yueyang city resulting in contamination of the water. 2010

“150 years ago, it was 6,250 square kilometers. 60 years ago, it was 4,350 square kilometers. Now, it’s 2,600 square kilometers”, commented Jiang Yong, on the area of the lake. Mr. Yong,  an ecologist who has spent the past 18 years studying the province’s largest body of water, has become increasingly concerned about the trend. “Mud and sand keep silting up in the south of the lake. Therefore the capacity is becoming smaller. The silted mud becomes new land, which becomes islands and beaches which people then live on.”

It was a simple process to envision in action. Dongting Lake is fed by not only the Yangtze River but also by a number of other smaller tributaries. Combined, they have led to the flushing of sand and mud into the lake. As China’s burgeoning population grows, the demand for land is increasingly high. Opportunities for land reclamation are hard to pass on.

CHINA. A man turns away from pollution that has gathered on the shores of Dongting Lake, Hunan Province. 2010

As our water taxi bobbed across the lake, we weaved around huge ships carrying large conical piles of sand. Pointing to one of the looming hulks which dwarfed our boat, Mrs. Lu reminisced about the changes she had seen on the lake. “In the past, there were 20-30 sand ships in the lake. Now there are more than 300. They dig sand every day, every month, every year but there [is] still sand here. I don’t know how fast the sand grows, but it definitely grows.”

As I hopped off Mrs. Lu’s boat and strolled along the lake, piles of sand could be spotted on nearly every ship passing by. “Some of the ships dredge the lake to make the transportation smoother. If the sand silts up at the bottom, ships will not be able to pass through the lake easily. Others are doing it for raw material for construction”, explained Jiang Yong. “Too many ships on the lake will disturb the life of animals in water, like dolphins. We have river dolphins here, and sand digging will affect their lives.”

Fish restaurants line the streets of Yueyang, a town lying on the northeast shore of the lake. They advertise a myriad of aquatic creatures for sale to the hungry tourists who descend on the town. “Fish has become a brand of Dongting Lake. People have the idea that eating fish is a must when you come to Dongting,” said Jiang Yong.  ”Therefore the demand is larger and larger.”

CHINA. A man swimming in Dongting Lake. 2010

Lake shrinkage has exceeded the fish’s ability to adapt to their dwindling ecosystem, resulting in fewer and fewer fish. Coupled with pollution, only smaller species remain in what was once a lake teeming with larger ones. Now, most of the bigger fish in the town are brought from other lakes, as the numbers have shrunk so much in Dongting itself. Overfishing has caused many fisherman to abandon their traditional ways of life for more lucrative and easier jobs on passing ships. Government sponsored programs have also recently encouraged fishermen to leave the water and seek land-based jobs.

“When the demand of the people goes up, the quality of the environment will go down”, was one of Jiang Yong’s final comments to me. This thought sat with me as I strolled along the lake shore one final time. Crowds had gathered to play in the waves, now lapping over the barriers and spilling onto the walkway. Yet the water’s temporary advance failed to hide the severe problems the lake currently faces.

]]> http://gallagher-photo.com/blog/2010/08/22/dongting-hu-a-lake-in-flux-pulitzer-center-5/feed/ 0 http://gallagher-photo.com/blog/2010/08/14/the-chinese-alligator-a-species-on-the-brink-%e2%80%93-ii-%e2%80%93-pulitzer-center-4/ http://gallagher-photo.com/blog/2010/08/14/the-chinese-alligator-a-species-on-the-brink-%e2%80%93-ii-%e2%80%93-pulitzer-center-4/#comments Sat, 14 Aug 2010 04:58:18 +0000 Sean Gallagher http://gallagher-photo.com/blog/?p=2385

Chinese Alligators in enclosure at ARCAR

SEAN GALLAGHER, FOR THE PULITZER CENTER, ANHUI PROVINCE, CHINA

When I discovered in my research that China had its own crocodilian, I was excited to try to find an opportunity to photograph it. What I was not prepared for was to learn that the species is perilously near extinction.

“In the past few centuries, the number of Yangtze alligator[s] has dropped dramatically”, explained Xie Yan, a quiet and unassuming  woman who is the current director of the Wildlife Conservation Society’s China office. Having studied Zoology in university in Sichuan, she became concerned with the plight of many of China’s animals species, leading her to write numerous books about China’s wildlife. “According to a survey in 1998, only 120 wild Yangtze crocodiles [are] left. In the past, the number should be between 10,000 and one million,” continued Xie Yun, during an interview at the Anhui Research Center of Alligator Reproduction (ARCAR).

Young alligators are separated into there own enclosure at ARCAR

Xie Yan and I coincidentally met this week when we both visited ARCAR. ARCAR is situated in the city of Xuancheng, a few hours by train west of Shanghai. Established in the early 1980s,  the center comprises of a series of ponds housing some 10,000 captive bred Chinese alligators. The aim of my visit there this week was to investigate the impact of wetland disappearance on the Chinese alligator and to get an idea of what is being done to protect these animals.

First, I wanted to identify the root causes for the species disappearance. As Xie Yan explained to me, disappearance began over fifty years ago.

“The main reason was the reclamation of lakes during the 1950s and 1960s. Farmers considered alligators as vermin, which ate their fish and other aquatic animals. With the increase of population and the area of farmland, the alligators’ habitat became smaller. People didn’t like to have dangerous species around, so the number of alligators dropped dramatically in 1950s and 1960s.”

Feeding time at ARCAR. Alligators are fed truck-loads of dead fish each morning.

During the 1970s and 1980s, numbers continued to drop as the Chinese alligators’ habitats shrank even further. “During the 1970s, the number of alligators dropped sharply. The main reason was people killing them for meat, for fear, and as vermin. Also, the overuse of fertilizer affected their egg laying and breeding.”

The decline reached its peak at the end of the 1990s when, in 1998, the biggest habitat for Yangtze crocodile was one small pond surrounded by farmland. There were 11 crocodiles in the pond. This rapid decline in the 1980s and 1990s spurred the government into action and along with the ARCAR, a mass breeding program was launched.

Alligator eggs collected by staff for incubation

Today, the park welcomes a trickle of visitors who have a chance to walk around many ponds containing thousands of alligators. The alligators are separated into ponds according to size and age, with the youngest being kept away from visitors in small pens behind locked gates. The adults however, are kept by the hundreds in rectangular ponds around which visitors can freely walk, coming nearly within touching distance of the alligators. The largest pond, for the eldest, is an impressive sight; a small lake surrounded by wooded vegetation, the ‘wild enclosure’ replicates the alligators’ natural habitat.

Early one morning, I was invited by the park’s managers to accompany staff whose job it was to collect eggs from the nests of the adult alligators there. We tramped through bushes and undergrowth, following the shore of the lake looking for nests. It didn’t take us long to stumble upon one. Xie Yan from WCS, carefully opened the nest and found a neat pile of around 20 milky-white eggs. Handling them like precious cargo, she and the staff member collected and marked each egg, placing them in a wicker basket to be taken away later to the center’s incubation room where they would stay until hatching.

An alligator swimming in an enclosure at ARCAR

We continued along the shores of the lake, looking for more nests. As we turned a corner, the staff member excitedly called us over. Next to the shore was a nest and standing guard was a female alligator. I instinctively started to back up. I knew enough about crocodilians to be aware that disturbing a mother protecting her nest was not the best of ideas. Standing only a meter or two away, we watched as the staff member crept up to the nest and looked for eggs. He rummaged through the nest, the alligator’s eyes darting between him and us, but he was unable to find any. We headed back to the main visitors are with a basketful of eggs from the first nest, however, so the morning had been a success. For me, it was a thrilling experience.

As I strolled around the park for a final time, I passed extraneous attractions common to Chinese zoos and aquariums in their attempts to milk a little extra cash out of visitors. There was an area for tourists to have their pictures taken with an alligator. A run-down peacock enclosure stood as a separate exhibit which visitors paid a fee to enter. There was even a supposed ‘reptile zoo,’ which seemed to contain nothing but doves and chickens. Apart from these extra ‘attractions,’ however, the park is obviously on the forefront of saving the Chinese alligator. “More then 1,000 alligators are hatched yearly,” claimed the ARCAR’s brochure. This rapid reproduction is leading to a bulging captive population. Re-introduction into the wild is slow, however, a limited number released from captivity annually.

An alligator used as a 'prop' for visiting tourists to have their picture with.

As the amount of wetlands across China continues to decrease, the question remains: Will it ever be possible to reintroduce so many alligators into the wild when their natural habitats have been all but destroyed? “Wetlands play a very important role in preserving biodiversity. Almost all the big birds, such as wild goose, ducks, cranes, and migrant birds rely on wetland. That’s why it is so important for animal protection.” urged Xie Yan. “The well-preserved wetland will be the home of the Yangtze alligator in the future.”

For the time being, it appears the captive bred population of Chinese alligators is safe. The same cannot be said, however, for the wild population. Their status remains ‘critcally endangered,’ according to the IUCN’s classification. The slow process of reintroduction means the future of the wild Chinese alligator is still well and truly in the balance.