简体中文
Zhang Shengyuan is a "bird man". The 57-year-old lives in a double-decker boat inside the Yangchaihu section of Honghu Lake in central China's Hubei Province. Every day, he patrols the lake in a canoe, watching birds and noting species and population numbers, and, more importantly, protecting them against hunters.
However, more than a decade ago, Zhang was a poacher himself, and maybe one of the best of them. In 2001, Zhang and his villagers secretly prepared 23 shotguns to hunt birds, but he was nabbed by local officials on site. He was fined 18,000 yuan (2830 U.S. dollars), more than his total annual income.
Zhang said at that time he had no choice but to hunt for birds. In the 1990s, Honghu Lake, the seventh largest lake in China, was nothing but a giant, stinking fish pond.
Propelled by the soaring price of crab, people flocked to Honghu Lake to farm freshwater crabs. Extensive crab cultivation took up as much as 70 percent of the lake area, with bamboo poles and nets protruding everywhere.
Zhang and some of his relatives also jumped on the bandwagon. To intensify crab production, they threw everything from food leftovers to processed fish feed to the pond, which quickly eroded the lake's ecosystem.
After a couple of years, the crab boom went bust, so Zhang started his career as a bird-hunter.
Zhang said he would have never resorted to killing birds if there had been other ways to earn his bread. The Zhangs have been living along Honghu Lake since his great-grandfather. He still vividly remembers the beautiful scenery from his childhood, when flocks of wild geese would cloud the sky.
However, the massive crab cultivation left the lake's ecosystem deteriorated so much that few migratory birds could be seen when Zhang first aimed his gun at a wild duck near his home in 2000.
When he was caught, Zhang finally realized the damage they had inflicted on the lake.
In 2003, the Hubei provincial government launched a Honghu Lake wetland reserve restoration project. The local government decided to recruit crews to patrol the lake. Zhang was the first to sign up.
Over the years, people occasionally joined Zhang in his patrols. But eventually they left because days on the lake with no one but birds and fish seemed tedious and lonely.
But Zhang has stayed. The work is both redeeming and fulfilling for him.
"I think the birds can recognize people. Truly. At least, they know me," he said, his face wrinkling with joy as he discusses his winged companions.
Once he saved a wild goose trapped in a net. The goose hovered over his head for a while before flying away. "I think it was expressing its gratitude," Zhang said.
In 2005, the local government announced plans to curb aquaculture on the lake and build a tourist industry.
The government compensated fishermen with water fields near the lake's banks to farm fish and helped them find alternative livelihoods, especially in tourism. Meanwhile, nets were dismantled and fishing is now banned from April 1 to July 31 every year.
Millions of yuan has also been channeled to reintroduce underwater plants and release fish, according to Zhu Junhua, chief of Honghu Wetland Natural Reserve Administration Bureau.
The conservation efforts have paid off. The water of Honghu is visibly clearer, and more species have returned to the lake, including birds.
In 2004, researchers sighted less than 2,000 migratory birds during the winter at one section of Honghu. In 2014, about 45,000 birds were observed at the same site. They estimated that the total number of migratory birds in the lake area would eventually surpass 100,000.
Zhang said he is seeing more types of birds these days. Though the ecosystem might not be equal to that in his childhood, he believes the progress is still significant.
"Our generation destroyed the lake, so we have to pay the price," Zhang said. "But hopefully, things will become better through our efforts. Then my grandchildren will see a completely rejuvenated lake. And I believe that day is not so far away."
