This article was a commissioned piece for Outlook Traveller, published on 02 December, 2024.
https://www.outlooktraveller.com/destinations/india/beyond-the-beaches-experiencing-eagle-feeding-in-palolems-backwaters
As the last pearls of rain glistened on the lush green leaves in late September, we drove out to Goa, the mecca of seaside tourism in India. Opting for the less frequented destinations of South Goa was a conscious, and probably prudent, decision for the city-weary traveller in us. Our first halt was at Agonda Beach, where miles of uninterrupted golden sand and a perennial cycle of foam-crested rolling, crashing waves greeted us. Yet to feature high on the frenetic, Insta-crazy tourist’s list, we loved this particular beach for its limited footfall and cool hippie vibes.
As luck would have it, the rain gods had probably been over-propitiated and they were in no mood to retire. The sea often threatened to turn choppy and the coast guards, armed with stylish orange surf boards, amped up their vigil. It also meant that all our plans of indulging in water sports and dolphin-sighting were nixed. Sensing our disappointment, the resort manager suggested we go for the eagle feeding exercise. A quick word with the Goan personnel at the property piqued our interest and we signed up for it, not sure of what exactly to expect.
The following afternoon, we set off for our venue which happened to be the nearby Palolem Beach. Parking our vehicle outside, we ambled up to the beach. Unlike Agonda, Palolem was teeming with tourists frolicking on the white sand or in the sun-kissed, turquoise waters. Our boatman greeted us and offered to transport us to the designated site on scooter. The two-wheelers navigated the crowds and trundled along for about half a kilometre till we reached the far end of the beach, where the landscape changed noticeably. A verdant forest cover dominated the coastline. Along its periphery and strewn carelessly across the waters, was an assortment of black, asymmetrical boulders, some of which were oval with cylindrical or pointed tips. We were surprised to find a sandbar which acted as a barrier between the sea on one hand, and an expansive stretch of backwaters, on the other. The scene here was a complete contrast to everything we had witnessed in Goa so far. It had a quiet, laidback vibe with just a handful of international tourists relaxing on the clean, white sand.
We alighted from the scooter and followed our man to his vessel. Several colourful wooden oar boats were moored, while a few others were ready to sail. All of them bore names of Hindu goddesses. Our boatman, Raju, helped us settle down, and off we sailed into the placid backwaters. The easy gliding movement of the boat, the rhythmic splashing of the oars, the waters reflecting fifty shades of green from the surrounding vegetation, the low hum of the cicada, and the occasional twitter of the home-bound birds, together gifted us some truly memorable moments.
The Palolem backwaters are home to a luxuriant undergrowth of mangroves – those unique trees and shrubs that grow magically above the waters, with their lower trunks and roots submerged in the briny sea water. From a distance, they looked like a clump of leaves walking on tall stilts! While we were busy admiring the mangroves, their dense tangled roots, and marvelling at their ecological benefits, we sailed by what is known as the ‘Magic Rock’ of Palolem. It is an ancient geological wonder where a dark brown, round boulder is perched precariously atop an even larger, oval, parent rock. Centuries of weathering have not been able to erode or dissemble this silent, stately formation.
After cruising some more, we finally reached our ‘wanted’ area. One, which always existed as a link in the natural ecological process, as a part of the food chain probably, but was catapulted to fame only in recent times by the local tourism players. It was a quiet spot where Raju slackened his rowing until we were barely floating. A couple of boats were already there, carrying some eager-beaver foreign tourists. No sooner had we arrived than a flock of eagles started hovering above, their sharp eyes alert for any sign of food. Sea eagles, we were told by Raju. We sat upright, waiting for the drama to unfold.
Raju stood at the edge of the boat and fished out a fistful of what looked like the leftovers of raw, chopped chicken. With a dramatic flourish, he flung it out into the waters. A crescendo of shrill birdcall rent the air as the eagles flew very low over the waters, lustily eyeing the meat. Out of so many birds, two extra aggressive and ambitious ones swooped down and, in a jiffy, scooped up the fleshy chunks. The other birds kept circling overhead, their relentless cries attracting more of their ilk and also, a few Brahmini kites.
The sight amazed us and we thirsted for more. Raju again took out the chicken feed and in a slow, deliberate motion, flung it out towards the big birds. The idea was to thoroughly whet their appetite before satiating them. All the tourists went click-click on their mobile phone cameras, aiming to capture every sound and movement of this unique phenomenon. The kites, though smaller in size, were not lacking in bravado, and made valiant attempts to scoop up the meat. A couple of them succeeded and jet sped to their safe spot on the branches of some faraway tree. I spotted a senior dog on a mangrove island, edging close to the water, in the hope of receiving a bite from the excited humans. I requested Raju to throw him some meat.
The avian instinct which guided these birds of prey to the precise spot on the waters, the lightning speed with which they attacked the food, and their retrieving skills — all left us agape. The eagles being larger in size and having bigger wing span, were swifter and more successful in getting the feed. Sitting in our boats we were treated to a flurry of grey, brown, ochre, white and black, accompanied by some high-pitched peals of the raptors. A bunch of crows perched on the nearby trees tried their luck but were not fortunate enough to get a coveted piece. The feeding process was repeated about four times by Raju until he exhausted his stock of meat. The other boats had already left, and Raju also came back to his seat for the return ride. The erstwhile peaceful backwaters and mangrove thickets had temporarily sprung into life and became cacophonous. As we sailed away, they again plunged into quietude, especially now that the sun was whispering its farewell.
On our way back, Raju explained how eagle feeding, as a tourist activity, had begun in Palolem just about nine years ago. Before that, these birds visited the mangrove islands only in winter as a part of their migratory flight routine. They fed on fledgling birds, snakes and crabs and stayed in the hilly forested patches at the far end. As tourism burgeoned in Goa, the birds found an easy source of food and safe habitation amongst these backwaters, prompting them to settle here permanently. The local operators, almost by accident, discovered that they could call the birds with the lure of meat, and turn it into an engaging (and lucrative) activity through practice and some conditioning.
An interesting insight shared by Kedar Borkar, a Goan native and Co-founder of Soul Travelling that specialises in offbeat tourism in Goa, is that in spite of being the smallest state, Goa is home to a whopping 37% of the total bird species sighted in India. Through their specially curated nature and wildlife packages, Kedar and his team are trying to create awareness about the need to conserve and nurture the thriving yet fragile ecosystem that the state is blessed with.
“Eagle feeding, as a travel attraction, is steadily gaining momentum at Palolem, both in terms of popularity and revenues. However, we are also concerned about how it is altering the natural breeding, nesting, hunting and foraging habits of these wild birds and making them dependent on humans for sustenance. This unnatural dependence may well have an impact on the entire regional ecosystem and food chain, as well,” concludes Kedar.
An hour-long ride costs1800/ per boat. Sharing a boat with others may cost a little less. Thus, eagle feeding has become popular with those tourists who are not keen to venture out into the seas for more adventurous activities. Also, it is not season-dependent as the backwaters remain calm even during the rains, although tourist inflow is undeniably diminished. In such lean periods, Raju and the others join their family business of fishing and crabbing.
Thus, in the serene, mangrove-rich backwaters of Palolem, eagle-feeding becomes an unforgettable adventure, bringing tourists closer to the splendid local flora and fauna. Watching the majestic eagles soar high and dive headlong for food is thrilling, leaving a lasting impression of the region’s unique biodiversity on the visitor’s heart. This activity not only entertains but also deepens our appreciation for the area’s rich ecosystem, creating memories that linger long after the journey ends.
