Why Rann When you can fly: The Bar-headed Geese of Gujarat

Bar-headed geese are unlike any other species of waterfowl. Characterised by a slender build, steel grey plumage, yellowish-orange bill, and a white head with two black bars, they are a sight to behold, and a treat for novice birdwatchers for they are easy to identify. The first time I observed them was in the Little Rann of Kutch, Gujarat, in the winter of 2013, and they have been my favourite bird species ever since.

I was still a novice bird watcher at the time, with most of my birding experiences restricted to Mumbai’s Sanjay Gandhi National Park (SGNP) and a few wetlands around the city. This trip to Kutch was my first time birding away from home territory, and I was feeling nervous about it. This is because waders and other waterfowl are notoriously difficult to identify and I was just about getting the hang of recognising the species along the Bombay coastline. With Kutch being known to harbour many more species than Mumbai, it felt like I was wading into the deep end of the pool. Exciting, but also a little nerve wracking, even though I was travelling with a group organised by the Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS).

As it turned out, my first lifer (birdwatcher lingo for the first time a species is observed and identified) came even before we entered the sanctuary: Three sarus cranes hanging out in a patch of agricultural land. Sarus cranes are the tallest of flying birds, and sighting one is considered a good omen locally. We couldn’t have asked for a better start to our trip.

We spent the day driving around the Indian Wild Ass Sanctuary, known for its population of wild asses, as well as the diversity of birds it attracts, especially during winter. The Rann ecosystem is a salt desert that floods every monsoon turning parts of it marshy, with elevated pieces of land with vegetation known as medaks. We saw a number of water birds on our morning jeep safari, including the great white pelican and the greater flamingo in the flooded parts of the Rann, but the real treat (at least for me) was a gaggle of bar-headed geese foraging on one of these medaks.

There were about 15 of them, quite a small number in hindsight as I have subsequently seen close to 500 individuals at other locations. But that did not matter, as I was absolutely smitten by their beauty. Who knew that black, white, and a bit of yellow could make for such a striking combination.

I observed the birds for a good 15 minutes, transfixed by their elegance, barely paying attention to the guide who was rattling off information about the bar-headed goose. We then alighted from the vehicle to get a closer look, and to my surprise, the geese were completely unperturbed by our presence. They continued upon their merry way, waddling about and feeding on the vegetation, giving us the opportunity to make notes on their behaviour, as well as get some stunning photographs.

When the group was done, and we were walking back to the gypsy, I noticed a Eurasian marsh harrier, the apex predator of the wetland, from the corner of my eye. It was gliding low and flat over the Rann, causing the birds in the vicinity to fly helter-skelter. I quickly turned around and — just as I expected — with a typical goose-like “honk”, the entire gaggle of bar-headed geese was in flight mode.

Although they look quite clumsy while waddling on land, these birds are among the most graceful when they are in the air. Most of the group was quite thankful to the marsh harrier for giving them such amazing photos of the bar-headed geese in flight.

Back in my room, I read up on the species from Salim Ali’s seminal set of books, The Handbook of the Birds of India and Pakistan. I learned that bar-headed geese are quite wary and difficult to approach in regions where they are hunted, but surprisingly approachable where undisturbed. Perhaps this is why they were so trusting of us in the Wild Ass Sanctuary. They knew it was a safe space, where they would not be harmed.

Bar-headed geese spend the summer months in high-altitude lakes of Mongolia, Russia, China, Kazakhstan even certain parts of the Trans-Himalayas like Ladakh. They spend their days foraging, nesting, and breeding, and migrate to warmer climes across peninsular India when the mercury falls too low. Among the wetland habitat that they colonise at this time is the Rann of Kutch.

Reading about their migratory natures made me realise what a tremendous journey the birds had made, to get to Gujarat. Their passage is long, physically exhausting, fraught with danger, and involves surviving extreme environmental conditions, for the birds have to cross the Himalayas, a towering presence between their breeding and wintering habitats. (I, on the other hand, arrived in the luxury of an AC train).

Unlike most bird species, which use low-elevation passes in the Himalayas, the bar-headed geese are known to fly over the tallest mountains. Records show the birds flying at altitudes of up to 8 km (Mt. Everest is 8.8 km above sea level). The air is thin at such elevations, and temperatures are extremely low, and yet, flocks of bar-headed geese make the trip annually.

In some ways, they are designed for the journey. Research has shown that the blood haemoglobin of the bar-headed goose has a higher affinity to oxygen compared to other species. Their hearts have additional capillaries that increase cardiac output, and their wings are larger and more powerful than most birds its size. So now we know how they do it, but the question of why still baffles ornithologists.

The day after the jeep safari, I chatted with some locals when we stopped in town for a cup of tea. From them, I learned that the bar-headed goose is locally called raj hans, and is revered as the vahan (mount) of Brahma and Sarasvati. Outside of Gujarat too, the bird frequently features in Indian art and culture, such as cave painting in the Ajanta caves of Aurangabad. They are an integral part of ecological and cultural heritage of India, and I hope we continue to host these elegant travellers for many winters to come. As the saying goes, “atithi devo bhava”.