Cambodia's Dolphins
by Karen J. Coates
BBC Wildlife, April 2002 and ORTV, November 2002

An 8 a.m. sun scorches the Mekong River and two wooden boatloads of tourists. Eyes are peeled for a rare dolphin in Cambodian waters. It’s hot. All is quiet. Then: whooshawhoosh as sleek gray bodies surface in small arcs and disappear quickly beneath brown ripples of river.

The Irrawaddy dolphin, an oceanic creature that can live in freshwater, is among the world's most endangered mammals. This small, snub-nosed cetacean once populated Southeast Asian waters by the thousands. But now, experts think, perhaps only about 100 remain. The Mekong River around Kratie, 150 kilometers northeast of the Cambodian capital Phnom Penh, offers glimpses of the rare animal, and conservationists hope the tranquil creatures will lure tourists. More tourists will spur money, awareness, and - the hope is - more dolphins.

The Cambodian Government, Australia’s Community Aid Abroad and Japan’s Human Animal Bond for the 21st Century (HAB21) have joined efforts. HAB21 started a dolphin campaign in 1997 and opened an educational center in Kratie in 2001. CAA educates local fishermen about dolphin and fish conservation, and in 1999, a dolphin-viewing park opened at Kampi, a small village 14 kilometers north of Kratie.

Every day, a handful of tourists hobble off the speed boat from Phnom Penh, walk one block to central Kratie, and find hotel rooms in the small river town of crumbling colonial architecture, bucolic sunsets and throbbing karaoke bars. They come for the dolphins, which congregate in nine pools throughout Kratie province. Kampi is the largest, with 20-30 animals. In the dry season, from November to June, viewers can sometimes stand on a platform beneath shady trees and watch dolphins swimming offshore.

In the rainy season, the river swells, swallowing land all around, and the dolphins migrate north. Then, admirers can hire a fisherman to motor several kilometers and tether his longboat to a treetop poking above water. If lucky, dolphins will peek from below. On a hot August morning, it takes 50 minutes and $7 to spot a dozen creatures.

Sam Kim Lorn of the Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Department is optimistic. “At the dry season, many tourists come here,” he says. Only 5-10 dolphins lived in the Kampi area before 1997, but “since the campaign, there are many dolphins here."

The Irrawaddy dolphin, Orcaella brevirostris, is similar in shape to the Beluga whale and Finless Porpoise. According to a study prepared by Sam Kim Lorn, the Kratie dolphins reach about 2.75 meters in length and weigh 180 kg to 200 kg as adults. The species’ range extends through the Indian and Pacific oceans, from Australia to Southeast Asia. The shy cetaceans travel in small groups and don’t stay long above water. They crest the surface briefly.

Cambodian fishermen have long respected, even worshiped, the dolphins. “They think if they catch dolphins, they can’t fish,” says Em Huy, a researcher in the Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Department. “It’s very bad luck for them.” The populations plummeted under the 1975-79 Khmer Rouge regime, when the animals were killed for oil used in lighting. In subsequent years, they were also killed for meat. Pollution, dams, boats and fishing practices have threatened river dolphins worldwide. In the past, explosive fishing devices have killed dolphins in Cambodia, although officials have cracked down on the use of dynamite, grenades and the rest.

Large bamboo pontoons, which are used to float wood downstream, also scare the timid animals. Sam Kim Lorn says he tells the logging companies so, but "they never listen to me."

The dolphins face other dangers as well. In Kratie, Sam Kim Lorn and Em Huy open the door to a dark barnlike building at the dolphin center. Inside sit tubs of formaldehyde with a 15-year-old female dolphin skeleton, caught in a net in nearby Stung Treng province. The skeleton will be assembled and used for education.

Isabel Beasley of the Wildlife Conservation Society says three dolphins were caught and killed in gillnets in the first six months of 2001 alone, and they weren’t the last. "No doubt more dolphins have died."

The project has done much to inform locals about the dolphins’ plight, and fishermen say they understand. Fifty-year-old Tuon Som Ol has lived in the area since pre-Khmer Rouge times, and has fished since 1979, working the waters between Kratie and the dolphin pools. "In the dry season, I used to see dolphins here," he says. "There are fewer every year." He says fishermen “never want to net dolphins,” but unfortunately, some get caught.

As part of her research, Beasley is interviewing local people and conducting surveys by boat to try to determine dolphin numbers. Calves have been seen - a good sign - but much work remains. "It's impossible to say the population is increasing," she says. "It is such a small population, and in such a restricted range, that even one or two human-induced deaths a year are going to prevent any population increase."

Beasley says Kampi's allure will be key to the dolphin's fate. "If managed well, tourism will probably be the main conservation tool for the future of the population."

The gentle animals emerge gracefully from the rich river, a Cambodian lifeblood. They seemingly wear smiles on human-like faces. It’s no wonder they enchant their fellow fishermen. “They like to live in peaceful places,” Em Huy says. “They are like people."