JP/leisure/wwf

Bajo people's fate throws spotlight on conservation debate

In early September the Indonesian offices of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) and The Nature Conservancy (TNC) invited a number of journalists to Wakatobi National Park, Southeast Sulawesi province, comprising 1.3 million hectares, mostly of sea and a few small islands. The following is a report by The Jakarta Post's Ati Nurbaiti and contributor Hasrul.

The classic argument around ecosystems and conservation is "man or beast" -- which one to sacrifice? -- while environmentalists insist that sustainable use of natural resources and protection of the species is, in the long term, for the good of both.

The debate still rages on in the isles of Southeast Sulawesi, involving passionate activists, worried researchers and grumbling fisherfolk. Zoning of fishing areas and national parks, for the locals who have ever heard of these concepts, simply means a series of "no this, no that" a nuisance and even unwanted intervention into their livelihoods.

The middle way is the pragmatic, firm tone of Regent Safaruddin Safar: It's all about cash. "If we want to attract dollars to Wakatobi then we must preserve the coral. Destroy it and the fish flee, and, in turn, the tourists leave."

Local elections are coming up later in September and the environment is becoming a hot political issue. But the incumbent says the pro-conservation stand is the only choice for whoever becomes the new regent for the sake of the economy.

Already in the waters around the regency of Wakatobi -- an acronym for the main islands of Wangi-wangi, Kaledupa, Tomea and Binongko -- swimmers and divers are safe from the sharks, ironically because the feared rulers of the sea have already left in the past few decades.

The absence of the feared predators is a main indicator of degradation of the ecosystem here, experts say.

Bloro, a resident of Kaledupa, cites how sharks were numerous in his childhood. "My uncle caught an octopus and tied it to the end of the boat, and soon after a shark followed us and we just dragged it home."

Fishermen among the famed sea gypsies in Sulawesi, the Bajo people, say they now increasingly sail to the waters further south, to Flores and even Australia, in search of the sharks. The value of the fins apparently continues to lure them to sail for months, even with the threat of imprisonment by Australia's immigration authorities.

Assessments of coral and other marine life by staff and volunteers by the ongoing Operation Wallacea environmental program here has led to its latest conclusion: The sites selected for study have clearly degraded, compared with last year.

Locals also cite the greater distance they now must cover to get their delicacies, the best seaslugs (tripang) compared to some years ago. This may be an initial sign of locals' awareness that the greens are looking for -- that people sense they are in trouble if fishing continues at the current rate, and increasingly involving destructive methods like bombing.

However, it seems playing catch up on the part of these environmentalists will remain the norm in the foreseeable future.

"There are fish to be caught, every single day," says Veda Santiadji of WWF, citing the strong belief of locals.

He acknowledges the need of more expertise from anthropologists and the like; marine scientists and even those working on social issues say they are bewildered at the behavior here -- today's catch and today's earnings are for today only.

"One family earned Rp 150,000 in a day and spent it all, including on food," says Veda.

The global rule on national parks, environmentalists have found, is that local people are the best guardians of the ecosystem, no matter how many regulations or patrol boats the authorities may have (very little, in the case of Wakatobi). Instilling local awareness of retaining the marine life for the future is therefore vital, but the sense here is that high expectations are thrown on the shoulders of the communities alone, without much government support.

"The locals can't be expected to guard the surroundings by themselves," a resident said. "It's just not fair; we might refrain from fishing in a certain zone but then our neighbor does it and gets away with it."

Authorities know what they are up against. Regent Safaruddin says the budget allocates a mere Rp 25 million for patrolling the 1.3 million-hectare area; hence the heavy reliance on big international NGOs like WWF and TNC and their speedboats.

The law on coastal areas is new, the maximum penalty being five years jail and a hefty fine of Rp 100 million for violations. "Our approach is mostly giving information and being persuasive," says police patrol official La Fasa.

On one bumping patrol trip through the long coral reefs of Karang Kaledupa, the speedboat stops besides a fairly large boat, belonging to Haji Sana, who's on the deck with his wife and other crew members. La Fasa steps up to approach the big, burly, dark man in a friendly manner, whose eyes dart suspiciously at La Fasa in his green uniform and the blue uniform of forestry policeman Murgiono. Then a few reporters augment the interrogation party and Sana gets worked up: I think he may push us off the boat!

At La Fasa's question on whether he has a permit, he barks, "I've been fishing all these years and I've never had to look for permits!" "But you should know", Fasa says gently, "that when you use a fishing boat like this you must have a permit."

He goes along to explain about the national park and Sana retorts he has never heard of it. "Our catch is worth only so much and the permit is some Rp 100,000!"

There is no ticketing or anything and our group leaves after La Fasa and Murgiono feel they have shared enough information and understanding. Sana manages a hesitant smile when we wave, and La Fasa sighs later: "Sometimes it's as though the supervision of the whole park depends on a few patrol men like us."

The current signs are that they might have lots of rest in the coming weeks; a quota policy on fuel has been introduced as the the impact of the fuel shortage has crept even into these waters.