IF you have not seen Kalibasib yet, better do it now or forever lose the opportunity of a close encounter with a live Philippine tamaraw.
Kalibasib, short for “kalikasan bagong sibol” (nature newly sprung), the first and, perhaps, the last tamaraw bred in captivity, is the lone attraction at the Mindoro Biodiversity Conservation, Research and Educational Center (MBCREC) in Barangay Manoot, Rizal town, in the province of Occidental Mindoro.
Also called Mindoro dwarf buffalo, the Philippine tamaraw (Bubalus mindorensis) is a wild forest buffalo endemic to Mindoro islands.
It is smaller, compared to their domesticated cousins, the Philippine carabao (Bubalus bubalis), and is considered critically endangered or in the brink of extinction.
There are only a few hundreds of these unique species left from the 10,000 or more population in the 1900s. The population of the tamaraw shrank to less than a hundred in the 1970s, prompting the government to launch the Tamarraw Conservation Program, which later gave birth to the captive-breeding program that saw the birth of Kalibasib.
Dying of old age
Kalibasib’s mother, Mimi, died of old age in August 2011. Mimi was among the 20 tamaraws captured and placed at the MBCREC, formerly the Tamaraw Gene Pool Farm, in 1980 as part of the captive breeding program of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) to conserve the tamaraw species.
Experts believe Kalibasib may soon die also because of old age.
Born on June 24, 1999, Kalibasib is now 17 years old. Experts say a Philippine tamaraw could live up to 20 years.
Given the protection provided by authorities, Kalibasib may have actually outlived many of his cousins because of the various threats that make tamaraw’s life expectancy a lot shorter in the wild.
Although born in captivity, Kalibasib remains wild and as aggressive as other tamaraws out in the wild.
Last chance
“This may be the last chance for all to see a tamaraw. If you want to see a live tamaraw, better go to Mindoro now,” Director Theresa Mundita S. Lim of the Biodiversity Management Bureau (BMB) of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) said.
Lim said Kalibasib may soon be gone and it would be the last chance for people to visit the star attraction of MBCREC. Students from various schools in Occidental and Oriental Mindoro will have this rare opportunity of having a close encounter with Kalibasib.
The visit to the MBCREC is part of the monthlong activities of the Tamaraw Month. Presidential Proclamation 273 of 2002 declared October of every year as a special month of the Conservation and Protection of the Tamaraw in Mindoro.
The activity is part of the DENR’s communication, education and public awareness (CEPA) campaign for the tamaraw, said Rodel Boyles, head of the Tamaraw Conservation Program (TCP) and the Protected Area Superintendent of the Mounts Iglit-Baco National Park (MIBNP), where the highest concentration of the remaining tamaraw population can be found.
Boyles said the activity offers students from various schools in Occidental and Oriental Mindoro to view how a tamaraw looks like.
“Kalibasib is getting old. Its vision is getting blurry because of old age,” Boyles said partly in Filipino.
All about tamaraw
The monthlong celebration, Boyles said, focuses on intensifying CEPA to educate Mindoro’s youth of the importance of biodiversity conservation, particularly the tamaraw.
He said a training-workshop for teachers from October 24 to 27 at the MBCREC aims to strengthen alliance with various stakeholders to enhance the protection of the tamaraw and their natural habitats.
A School Day Camp would also be held for high-school students. “We are targeting 30 schools, three schools a day for 10 days. It started last October 5 and would end on October 19,” Boyles said.
He said it is important for Mindoro’s students to have close encounter with Mindoro’s most treasured wildlife for them to have a connection. “So that they would come to appreciate the tamaraw more,” he said.
Hard to find
The tamaraw is hard to find in the wild. Even in the MIBNP, this aggressive beast could only be seen foraging in the open grassy areas every summer. The DENR-led teams conduct its annual population count at this time.
“Most of the time, they are hiding in the thick forest. That is why they are hard to find,” Boyles said.
The latest tamaraw population count in April shows there are 413 tamaraws in the MIBNP.
The actual number of tamaraws may be a lot bigger, considering that its population count held every year since 1990s was limited to a small area in MIBNP.
There are also tamaraw habitats in Mounts Aruyan, Calavite, Eagles Pass, Halcon and other areas in both Occidental and Oriental Mindoro.
The DENR, as well as its partners in the conservation of the tamaraw, has yet to conduct a study of the so-called remnant populations in detail.
Even in areas where there are reported sightings of tamaraw, World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) Mindoro Project Manager John Manul said the search continues.
“There are traces, dung and footprints, but none of the residents can say they have actually seen one in these areas,” he said.
He said it would take a team of trackers to verify the reported sightings, underscoring the need to verify their presence to discuss ways on how to better manage the area and protect the critically endangered species against potential harm.
With a successful tamaraw conservation program, BMB’s Lim believes Mindoro’s eco-tourism package would soon include a rare opportunity of viewing the tamaraw.
Expanding search area
Lim and Boyles agree that there is a need to expand the coverage of the tamaraw population count to get a more accurate figure.
Lim said this would help the DENR-BMB to have an idea which areas, other than Mounts Iglit-Baco, need stronger protection for the conservation of the tamaraw.
“There is really a need to expand and enhance our search to identify other habitats. That way, we will know how to protect them against threats like hunting or logging and other human activities,” Lim said.
Boyles added that it would help the DENR and various stakeholders plan how to better manage resources geared toward biodiversity conservation, particularly of Mindoro’s most treasured wildlife.
Manul echoed the need to expand the coverage of tamaraw population count. However, he said it would entail additional costs and resources to do it. In the Mounts Iglit-Baco area alone, it takes at least three teams to do the count simultaneously.
The results are crossed-checked to come up with an accurate population count every year.
Close encounters
Gregg Yan, communication and media manager of WWF said searching for the tamaraw is not as easy as it looks.
Yan had experienced “close encounters” with a wild tamaraw, while trying to take photos.
He said the tamaraw can hear or smell threats from a mile away. Yan said he had tried to use a sniper’s cover but to no avail.
“They can smell our scents easily. They can even hear even the touch of our body with the grass as we crawl,” he said.
Yan said he got as close as 10 meters from a small group of tamaraws, but still never got to see them, because they were practically in the middle of a sea of tall grasses.
“I was told by the spotters that we were so close. We were told to run if we hear charging sounds,” he recalled. According to Yan, his first encounter with the tamaraw in 2012 was heart-pounding. “They were aggressive, almost wanting to charge at us. We had to go behind a tree.”
Just a few weeks ago, as part of the Far Eastern University and WWF’s Tams2 Project activities, he said the encounter was a bit surprising for him. “The tamaraws ran away,” he said.
Born to be wild
While Boyles said he is open to the idea of finding a pair of tamaraws to replace Kalibasib once he passed on, he is not yet convinced that such would be a worthwhile activity.
“For the purpose of education and research, we may recommend it in the future. But right now, we are still studying whether we really need to do it,” he said.
According to Boyles, the tamaraws are better off left in the wild—their natural habitat—where they can thrive. The reason the captive breeding program was stopped.
“They will not survive in captivity. They tend to kill themselves when cornered because that is what they are. A tamaraw will always be a tamaraw,” he said.
Lim said it would be awkward to capture tamaraws only to educate the people that the same wild animals should be protected against threats of human activities to prevent their extinction.
Breeding in the wild
Lim said she is also against the idea of reviving the failed captive-breeding program of the tamaraws.
“In the 1980s many of them died when the government started to capture them. In the process, they were injured then later died,” she said.
At the Ninoy Aquino Parks Wildlife and Rescue Center in Quezon City, Lim said they are keeping “rescued wildlife” in captivity to protect them against falling prey to other animals, or being injured and killed by hunters.
“We don’t capture wild animals unless there is a greater purpose,” she said.
Since the captive-breeding program for tamaraw failed, Lim said the DENR focused on the Tamaraw Conservation Program to protect their habitats.
The result, she said, gained ground as the tamaraw population count would later show.
“There is slight, but continuous, increase in their population, which means that our protection at Mounts Iglit-Baco is effective. There are more juveniles which means they are breeding,” Lim said. Mounts Iglit-Baco is home not just to wildlife. They are also home to the indigenous peoples of Mindoro.
Image credits: Gregg Yan/National Geographic Channel