A trip to the east coast’s protected mangroves allows for up-close contemplation of nature and its complex ecosystems.
By Michelle Wranik-Hicks
My paddle silently slices the mirrored surface of the waters of Khor Kalba, at the confluence of mountains and coastal dunes along Sharjah’s east coast. The kayak glides easily over the calm waters, giving me the opportunity to observe the rich wildlife in the protected wetland, part of the Al Qurm Nature Reserve, home to possibly the oldest mangroves in the Arabian Peninsula.
These ancient coastal trees—thought to be around 300 years old—are a sanctuary for juvenile fish, turtles and crabs. The gnarled branches also provide refuge to an exceptionally rare bird, the Arabian Collared Kingfisher. The subspecies, marked by brilliant turquoise plumes and a white collar around its neck, is found nowhere but on the eastern shores of Kalba and two areas in neighbouring Oman.
At 8am, when the pastel wash of sunrise has long faded from the sky, I’m ready to explore the reserve in a kayak—the activity is offered through a stay at the nearby Mysk Kingfisher Retreat. I kayaked in these waters more than a decade ago, a time when the fragile ecosystem was under threat from activities like spearfishing and crab hunting. To the relief of conservationists, the Sharjah Government intervened, closing the mangroves to the public in 2012 and declaring the site a nature reserve. The following year, the conservation zone became only the third site in the UAE to be recognised by the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands of International Importance, and Khor Kalba was listed as a globally important wetland.
An Arabian Collared Kingfisher, a rare subspecies found only in Khor Kalba. Photo: John Pereira / EPAA
A mosque comes into view, its white minarets outlined against the grey-brown mountains. Egrets and cormorants skim the surface of the lake. Photo: Shukhrat Gafurov
Mangroves are a vital coastal ecosystem, they create an essential habitat for thousands of species and help to protect the coast from erosion and damaging storms. Mangroves are also recognised for their important role in mitigating climate change, absorbing carbon from the atmosphere and burying it in the waterlogged soil below.
While Khor Kalba’s protected status means that visitors are unable to access the narrow mangrove channels, it’s still possible to get close to the forest exterior on kayaks or stand-up paddle boards. During our leisurely paddle, there’s plenty of time to study the primeval branches and roots, where the water swirls with nutrients. As we glide past the dense, shaded canopies, the scent of salty decomposition fills the air. Tiny fish dart in the shallows. Save for the occasional splash from our oars or a crab scuttling between the roots, there’s total stillness. The water rises and recedes as it has done for thousands, if not millions, of years, almost as if the wetlands were calmly breathing.
In the eight years since it became a protected reserve, the delicate ecosystem in the Khor Kalba mangroves has flourished, says John Pereira, a conservation biologist with Sharjah’s Environment and Protected Areas Authority (EPAA).
“The channels used to be extensively gillnetted and overfished, which meant the fish and its supporting breeding populations never had a chance to establish balanced, mature communities,” he says. “Now when we fly the drone and do our surveys, we see life everywhere. It’s quite amazing.”
The EPAA estimates that between 130 and 145 kingfishers live among the mangroves. Their numbers have remained stable for the last eight years. The highly territorial birds are usually easy to spot, perched on the edge of the mangroves, where they nest among the branches, often inside part of a hollow trunk. Kingfishers are naturally socially distanced creatures, Pereira says, and nest 100 to 150 metres from their neighbours during the breeding season. It is during these months, between March and August, that the birds are most obsessive about personal space.
“During this time, they are very aggressive to other kingfishers,” he says. “They do a lot of territorial calling and vocalising.” Kingfishers’ dinner time is at low tide in the mangroves, when it’s easier to hunt. The lithe birds, with their blue wings and white chests, defy the laws of physics as they slice through the water to snatch up small crabs and fish.
Al Qurm Nature Reserve is off limits to motorised boats. Photo: Shukhrat Gafurov
The dense mangrove forests protect the coast, offer a home to many species, and capture carbon from the atmosphere. Photo: Sharjah Tourism
When Khor Kalba’s water recedes, it surges through an estuary and out to the Gulf of Oman. We are carried along by the gentle tide to an expansive lake that was constructed several years ago alongside the Kalba corniche. A mosque gleams into view, its white minarets outlined against the grey-brown mountains. In the distance, egrets and cormorants skim the surface of the lake. A heron lands on a mud flat, looking for lunch. When our arms tire, we pause and float beneath a piercing blue sky, looking out for turtles, or at least their heads emerging from the water as they come up for air.
During a recent aerial survey, a record 187 turtles were seen across the mangrove habitat. Green turtles are the most common species finding sanctuary within the mangroves, with occasional sightings of hawksbill and loggerhead. The lake has proven especially popular with juvenile turtles. The booming biodiversity has won over biologists, who at first were cool to the idea of an artificial lake in such a delicate area.
“We err on the side of safety,” Pereira says with a laugh. “We’re very annoying like that. Any biologist would have said, ‘Please don’t dredge a man-made lake next to the mangroves, that’s not the best thing to do.’ But now we find that there is algal growth, marine life has started establishing, and the lake is one of our core areas for turtle activity.”
There are further development plans to sustain the viability of the mangroves, but this time it’s through an impressive education centre. With architecture inspired by the shape of a sea-urchin, the development is taking shape on the edge of the estuary near Kingfisher Retreat. When it opens, it will enable tourism to support conservation in a meaningful and enjoyable way with interactive exhibits designed especially for children. After so many years completely closed to the public, the majestic mangroves will welcome visitors via a two-kilometre mangrove walkway. There are also plans for a specialist turtle rehabilitation facility and aviaries for Kalba’s coastal birds—including three kingfishers, which the EPAA has raised in captivity. The chicks are quite the success story in the quest to protect the species. They were hatched in incubators at the Kalba Bird of Prey Centre, and are being cared for by a dedicated team at Al Hefaiyah Mountain Conservation Centre. Once ready, they will move to the new mangrove centre, allowing everyone to appreciate the birds and their beautiful habitat—rare and fragile, yet thankfully, protected.
Top photo courtesy of Sharjah Tourism
