Fishing the river for Dolphins

SUNSET ON THE RIVER MEKONG

There is something very special about the grand Mekong River. The majestic tributary of Southeast Asia connects so many cultures and covers so much history it has become its own icon. Drawing the borders of Tibet, China, Burma, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam The Mekong is as Indochina as Lemongrass and Satay Sauce. One part of it, however, manages to be even more special. That part is Kratie, Cambodia. And that’s where I decided to visit to try and fish myself a Dolphin.

Fishing a mammal?

Kratie is a sleepy small town lying on a remote bank of the Mekong in the far hinterland of eastern Cambodia. Getting there is an experience in its own right. You need first to commandeer a 4×4, fetch a local guide, brave your way through several disintegrating river ferries and poses the determination to battle unpaved roads, clouds of dust and the usual unexpectancies of rural 3rd–world commute. In return, Kratie offers several crumbling French colonial buildings, few scruffy-looking hotels and Southeast Asia largest population of River Dolphins – the shy and extremely rare Irrawaddy Dolphin.
How Rare? There are less than 80 of them all over the Mekong. Numbers in The Philippines, Burma, and Indonesia are even lower.

Needless to say, the only reason to visit this forgotten pariah are the Dolphins. Unless of course, you happen to be fond of crumbling, sleepy Cambodian small rural towns. I believe I did notice some heavily bearded and doped geezers scattered around the local bar. They all seemed to have been there forever. I guess they all had good reasons to be trapped in Kratie, though I seriously doubt if any one of them remembered what these reasons were.

Time to hit the beach

Now you see it, now you don’t

We boarded a small wooden longboat and headed into the vast expense of the river, which in Kratie is as wide as a gulf. With us was a small horde of other wooden longboats carrying other brave tourists all determined to whiteness the elusive creature in action. The tropical sun was starting to set, which according to our captain, made spotting the Irrawaddy Dolphin easier. Should they choose to appear, of course. These river Dolphins apparently run their own agenda.

Lucky for us their agenda that afternoon coincided with us, and what a disappointment it was. Small, grey and unassuming, this dolphin looks more like a Beluga that has been shrunk in the drier. With a rounded, melon-like, head, and an indistinct beak it has nothing of flare and charisma of ocean dolphins. You can also forget about backflips one second you see them, the next, they’re gone.

The silver lining

Obviously disappointed, we ventured out to look at the small commotion from the distance and safety of the sandy Kratie harbor beach. Lucky we did. Observing the frenzy was much more interesting than being part of it.
We also noticed another thing far more interesting.

A small distance away from the tourist boats were few local families fishing quietly from similar wooden longboats. The Irrawaddy Dolphin – I learned later – have a seemingly mutualistic relationship of co-operative fishing with traditional fishers. The Dolphins drive fish into the nets and in return get a piece of the action. Fascinating!

One particular boat grabbed my attention. In it, a father and his son were casting nets in what must be one of the kitschiest father/son images one can imagine. Only it was for real.

I know this would sound corny in a world dominated by iPhones, PS4s and Fortnite. Yet, what are we all working for? After all aren’t we all yearning for a simple life, where one can fish with one own son off a wooden boat in the setting sun?