Katarniaghat Wildlife Sanctuary, Kishanpur Wildlife Sanctuary and Dudwha National Park together form the Dudwha Tiger Reserve. We were scheduled to drive to Kishanpur but first I had to do some cooking. Somehow, a message had arrived at Jaagir Manor that I wanted a cooking lesson. After a brief discussion, the owner offered to show me how to make stuffed paratha. I felt that I should not refuse. Straight after breakfast, everything was rolled outside for the lesson and a small audience assembled. The owner was not going to show me himself; he had chefs for that sort of thing. He was, however, going to video proceedings to use on his website. I smiled and hoped I would not drop things on the floor. They equipped me with an apron, plastic gloves and a hat. Paratha is an unleavened bread. The stuffing is a mix of potato and spices. Most of this was already prepared. My job was to wrap some dough around a spoonful of potato mix, roll it out and fry it. Two chefs showed me what to do and carefully scrutinised my cooking. Fortunately, nothing bad happened and we ended up with some nicely cooked stuffed paratha. I was quite pleased with the results.
We ate the parathas for a light lunch and then headed back to Dudwha. Kishanpur was cancelled because it was quite a long drive and no tigers had been seen there for many days. Not long after we arrived at Dudwha we spotted a tiger way off down one of the closed tracks. It soon vanished and we set off in a direction to try and head it off. Coming round a corner we saw one of the other cars. They had spotted the tiger. It was off to one side of the track but they were hoping it might come out. We stopped nearby and waited quietly. Then our guide saw some movement and pointed. I trained my camera on the bushes but could not see anything other than wood and foliage. For several minutes everyone held their breath and peered into the undergrowth. Then something very strange happened to me. The leaves, branches, patches of light and shadows just sort of assembled themselves into the visage of a tiger. It felt rather weird. A random pattern became a picture. I realised that not only could I see the face of the tiger but that it was quite close and looking straight at me. If I had not been safely in a vehicle the moment would have been quite terrifying revelation. There is a saying amongst the guides that for every time you spot a tiger, it has seen you a thousand times. I took a photograph and then it vanished again.
Next day was a short boat trip at Katarniaghat. The normal early morning start got us to the park entrance just after sunrise. The route down to the river took us past several ponds. We stopped to watch the snakebirds fishing. They do not have waterproof feathers and often look quite bedraggled after they have been in the water. A fish eagle flew past carrying a branch with some leaves. Possibly it was building a nest.
Further on, we got to the river and our boat. It was only quite small. Diane and I got in along with the helmsman, a deckhand, our driver, our local guide and a river guide. Bit of a party but that is how it tends to work in India. Even when one person is sufficient, at two will come along. There are a lot of people in India. Despite being classed as a sub-continent, a population of 1.4 billion is an awful lot of people. One in six of the world’s population are Indian. On the ground, it always feels like there are a lot of people around. A lot of people and a lot of rubbish. As we set, we could see a village across the far side of the river. There was rubbish. Plastic, paper, glass, food waste, clothing, all sorts. This right on the edge, or possibly inside, a national park. At times I wanted to will some of the many, many people that we saw just sitting around to go clear some of the rubbish up.
A little further upriver we came across crocodiles. This was mostly what we had come to see. Marsh crocodiles are also called Mugger crocodiles. I like this name. With a broad snout and a powerful shoulders, they squat low to the ground as if they are waiting to mug something. Along side the muggers were some Gharial crocodiles. Slightly odd-looking reptiles. A long, thin snout with a fine collection of distinct, spikey teeth for catching fish. Not as powerful looking as the muggers. Gharials used to be common across the whole of India. Unfortunately, they are sensitive to pollution and by 1976, its global range had decreased to only 2% of its historical range. Fewer than 200 gharials survived. They are now protected and work is underway to try and clean up some of the rivers. There are still only 1,000 gharials in the wild. These days they are considered a good indicator of the quality of the river water.
We turned into a small tributary with rich, dense vegetation on both sides. The leaves rustled and there was trumpeting. Elephants. We could hardly see them. Just the top of their heads above the green fronds. Then, briefly, there was a small parting in the leaves and a big head was looking down at us. This was all quite exciting. I was hoping we could stay and watch the rest of the herd for a while. Unfortunately, our skipper announced time was up and so we headed back.
Right next to the basic dock that the boat used was a small crocodile breeding facility. Here they are breeding Gharials, Muggers and Spotted turtles. We had to peer through a metal mesh to see the animals and it was tricky to take photos. They were, however, extraordinarily cute. The smaller ones only 10 cm long. Hopefully they can look forward to a better future than their predecessors.
On the track back we spotted a few more interesting birds including a Crested Serpent Eagle. It just sat in a tree looking very aloof and stared at us.
A somewhat dilapidated observation tower gave us a last look across the wetlands.
