River tern protectors guarding fragile gains

sites. In the first decade of this century, the river tern population here declined by more than 75 percent. It has likely disappeared from Vietnam and Laos altogether. In Cambodia, about 30 pairs remain. With hydropower projects now dotting its habitat, and with more planned, the bird faces an existential threat – and one that looms despite successful recent efforts by community-based conservationists to save the species.

The river tern’s continued existence in Cambodia is thanks in no small part to people like Phoeurn.

Since 2008, Phoeurn, his wife, Chin Loam, two sons, two daughters, three grandchildren and several in-laws have worked as nest protectors. All told, scores of people in Siem Bok district have worked for the WWF-managed program, guarding the nests against humans, rats and water buffalo. Slowly, their efforts have begun to pay off. In 2011, WWF recorded 22 birds in the Mekong Flooded Forest landscape – the 56-kilometre stretch of conservation area between Stung Treng and Kratie. This year, 38 birds were spotted there.

“This is the third year in a row we’ve had some population increase. So that’s just really exciting and rewarding after seeing declines over the last 15 years,” said Andrea Claassen, a conservation science PhD at the University of Minnesota who has been studying these river birds since 2003. “Every time I came out to see the river tern there were fewer than before, until the last three years – we’ve been seeing improvements. The population trend is kind of like a ski jump.”

Claassen, also a technical adviser at the Royal University of Phnom Penh’s Department of Natural Resource Management and Development, scrapes together funding each year to come to Cambodia during nesting season. From January to April, she and her assistants spend as much time as possible camped out on the sandbars along the waterway between Kratie and Stung Treng. They count birds, inspect nests and, crucially, spend long hours speaking with the nest protectors about what is and is not working.

To guard a river tern nest is no small task. The birds do themselves few favours, laying their eggs directly on top of the sand, exposed to all comers. Each nest requires two protectors – who must leave their village and set up camp near the nest for the duration of the season. An egg takes about 25 days to hatch, and chicks take another 25 days to fly. During that time, the protectors encircle the nest with up to 30 metres of fencing, and keep a close eye out for water buf- faloes, rats and hungry fishermen. Each day, often several times a day, they will check on the nest. When the chicks hatch, they must shade and water them – protecting the baby birds from overheating even as the temperature of the sand soars. For this, the pair is paid $8 a day. There is a bonus of $10 for each chick that flies away, but if the nest fails at any point, the daily pay is halved.

“It would be difficult to do this job without patience,” admitted Phoeurn.

“You cannot finish it within a night. You need to keep doing it and then you get used to it and you love it and enjoy it.”

Of all the nest protectors, Phoeurn has the highest rate of success. Each year, he and his wife set up camp on a spare, bucolic island located a few kilometres from his home village of Koh Preah. Talcum-fine dunes and rolling grass hillocks spill out into a flat, wide beach teeming with birds. Each morning and evening, scores of river birds congregate at the water’s edge. Among them, this year, are no fewer than nine pairs of river terns. When Claassen started her survey, in 2010, there were five pairs on this sandbar. Then four the following year. Then three. Then two. In early March, Phoeurn proudly pointed out a pair of fluffy, half-hidden chicks that hatched only days earlier. In his hand, they were so small they looked like they might vanish.

Phoeurn’s family describes him as unusually dedicated. During holidays and festivals,