60 KMS north east from Mysore lies the Kabini dam – a 700 meter long structure over the Kabini river which is a tributary of the more illustrious cauvery river built in 1974. As the crow flies the dam and the reservoir on the foothills of the Western Ghats is around 50 kms from Mysore and just outside the dense Nagarhole national park . On the fertile plains fed by nearly 8 months of rain and low water table on account of the reservoir, agriculture is thriving in this region . sugarcane , paddy , tobacco , vegetables ,millets etc abound the the lowlands .Permanent and semi permanent dwellings dot the land scape. Pets and domestic livestock roam the land and in july when we are there, the land has plenty of fodder to offer .
My friend Vivek and me go back a long way and he is on a visit to India from the US along with his family. His son Aditya is 15 and a strapping young lad and his daughter Anagha is 11 and cute.I have two daughters aged 10 and four and both the families are very comfortable with each other .
We meet up in mysore onward bound towards the jungle lodges, Kabini a resort company run by the tourism ministry along with help from the forest department of Karnataka . Amidst squeals from children and backslapping adults we catch up with each other . Vivek tells me his journey from palghat in Kerala which is his paternal home town through the city of coimbatore and towns of sathyamangalam , chamrajpet , nanjangud was comfortable . He has traversed the western ghats from one side to the other in 5 hours .
“ The roads are good and though there is increasing lorry traffic on the ‘sathy’ (short for sathyamangalam) side , the condition of the road is perfect” .
“Any wild life” ? I ask.
‘Negative , veerapan has done some damage ’! he laughs . The Sathyamangalam forests bordering on the Niligiris range and BR hills on the other had substantial number of elephant herds which was poached for nearly ten years by the forest brigand ‘Veerappan’. A modern day Robin Hood with some glaring exceptions ,Veerappan was finally shot down by the Tamil Nadu police in 2008. By then , the elephant numbers also had dwindled .
Our stay in mysore is comfortable at a service apartment which I had booked . We catch up on events and happenings around and in our life through the evening and post dinner for a while then fall asleep in anticipation of the ‘ morrow ’ .
The drive from mysore city to the kabini dam and then to the edge of the reservoir where the jungle lodges had their resort is about 2 hours with a stop and a bad stretch of road in the last leg . The kabini reservoir extends into the jungles of Nagarhole and that is where the few nature resorts in the area like -Orange County ,Bushbetta , The Serai take their guests to the adjacent Bandipur on one side of the reservoir and Nagarhole on the other , for game viewing .
As we make the trip , there is a development on the sidelines on game reserves in the country. The supreme court through a ruling has prohibited all kinds of tourist activities near and around game reserves based on a Public Interest Litigation from a Wildlife Protection Group . This is like a death knell to the lodge where we are headed and others in the nature tourism business as they depend on game viewing as a primary source of attraction for the tourists who stay with them . The story unfolds in the next few months …
The entrance to the former Maharaja’s hunting lodge is narrow avenue with an arch and a logo of the company running the place . The parking area is to one side of the reception and the ‘game keepers’ dressed in jungle fatigues usher us in . The reception has a library to one side and the staff and the manager’s offices is on the other .
Excerpt about the ‘kabibi river lodge’ from the website of jungle lodges and Resorts ( http://www.junglelodges.com) says …
Named after the River Kabini, the Kabini Lodge beckons with the promise of elephants, gaur, deer and a rumour of tiger. Located on the southern fringes of the Nagarahole National Park (Rajiv Gandhi National Park) , this former hunting lodge of the erstwhile Maharaja of Mysore was rated as One of the Top 5 Wildlife Resorts in the World by the British Tatler’s Travel Guide.A sprawling colonial estate in the heart of elephant country, the River Kabini Lodge echoes with the call of the wild.
Experience
Imagine waking at the crack of dawn and setting forth for the experience of your life. Witnessing the wild rousing from its slumber is a life changing experience. The forests of the Nagarahole National Park (Rajiv Gandhi National Park) abound in herds of elephant, sambar and spotted deer, wild boar, sloth bear, gaur and the occasional tiger and panther. It’s not for nothing that the locale of this resort was once the Maharaja’s favourite hunting ground.
Located by the banks of the River Kabini, this 54-acre property spells idyllic charms and countless pleasant surprises. The former hunting lodge that’s been converted, speak of erstwhile elegance and comes with comforts like charming accommodation, a well-stocked bar and even a fully-equipped conference room for those meetings that spell business as unusual. For those who seek rejuvenation in the truest sense, we also offer ayurvedic treatments.
The wild has its charms and traditions. Here you’re not a tourist, but an explorer; an adventurer. Meals, being a opportunity for explorers to share their stories and wild rendezvous, are group affairs. That’s why the Gol Ghar, our river-facing gazebo dining area serves meals at set times. The buffet serves Indian, Continental and Chinese cuisine.
A morning and evening jeep safari or even a boat ride down the River Kabini rewards you with sightings of herds of elephants, crocodiles sunning themselves and many hued birds flitting in and out of the forest’s green canopy. For a touch of rustic, opt for the traditional coracle, made from bamboo and buffalo hide or go for the regular motorboat. Unwind with a wildlife movie in the audio-visual hall and then bring the day to a grand close with barbecue by a campfire.
Season
The River Kabini Lodge is a great place to visit any time of the year. But during the sweltering months of March, April and May, the pools and springs in the forest dry up, bringing the animals to the banks of the River Kabini. Here you get to see the largest congregation of Asiatic Elephants in the wild. The monsoons (July, August and September) has the trees lush and thick, but promise fewer animal sightings. The other months promise a fairly better chance of animal and bird sightings.
As we get escorted to our cottages placed quite close to the embankments , one can’t help noticing the fresh blades of the grass and invigorated vegetation all along the banks . This is august and the place has enjoyed decent couple of months of the south west monsoon . There is a nice breeze blowing across the landscape and rain bearing clouds on the sky but it is warm and humid as well . The microclimate is dictated by the plains, a short distance away from the jungles and the vast chunk of reservoir water around us.
Rani , who is a reiki practitioner decides to do a bit of meditation alone on the banks of the reservoir sitting stoic on a boulder . The children decide to bounce some pebbles on the water . We too join in until we are told to gather for lunch . The lunch at JLR in most of their resorts is a simple Indian vegetarian meal with few dishes of chicken , mutton and fish as an add on for the meat lovers . There is no game meat or anything local as far as I can see . The luncheon is at a central structure called ‘golghar’ ( circular house ) aptly named because the structure in itself is round and open on all sides . Few instructions on the itinerary for the afternoon and evening is announced . We are to assemble at 3.30 PM after a short nap if one chose to at the room and board our respective vehicles for the jungle safari .
The lunch is sumptuous and healthy and we retire to our cottages . At sharp 3 PM a messenger arrives asking for a cup of tea and also to ensure we are in time for the safari . This is required from an Indian context – we have no problems in making others wait and indulge in lazing around .
There is group waiting at the ‘Golgar’. Some biscuits and tea to energise and clear our head . The jeeps , and buses are all there and waiting .Uniformed forest guards cleverly usher the guests into various vehicles . Though it does not look deliberate , they have a knack of guiding the cachoponic large families with children into bigger vehicles and the serious wildlifers or even couples into the other trucks . I can see around 8 or 9 vehicles being used for this trip and I am keen to find a quieter place. we manage to get all of us into one and to our luck we have amongst us a serious wildlife photographer “Narsimhan’ who introduces himself to us as ‘Nari’. Nari is a quiet , bespectacled man in in his mid thirties and has a full wild life gear on including his 600 mm fixed lens and a pair of binocs. He has chosen the vantage point in the front and I take the one seat available next to him . I am sure, he is little worried when he sees our group comprising of 4 adults and children in equal number as a noisy crowd in the forest can be a certain spoilsport for game viewing especially if there is a chance to catch the tiger or a leopard . I try and make some intelligent conversation with Nari to put him at ease and make us appear as serious ‘wildlifers’ .It seems to work a little ! Now we are off ! We rumble out of the compound of the lodge , trudge across the bad roads onto a village . The driver and field guard of our vehicle seem to be from these villages as they exchange pleasantries and information with few folks on the road . There is sharp deviation from the fork that we entered in and before we know we are in the main road into the forest. This road is a thoroughfare into the state of Kerala and therefore some traffic. WoW! someone yelps ! The bus screeches to a halt and the guard points to a peacock fluttering his plumes sitting on a stump decapitated from a lightening . It is a site which everyone enjoys and then after a few moments we are off from the main road into the forest mud roads . The ride is soft as the ground is parched and wet .
The lodge and the company ‘ Jungle lodges Resorts’ owes most to a man called ‘JOHN WAKEFIELD ‘ an Englishman born in India and who is a legend in these forests much like ‘Jim Corbett’ was in the Uttarakhand.
To give you a fair glimpse of his life and times – I share below few peans written on him and quote from some of the eulogies after his death in 2010 each from a different perspective.
Papa John was the best friend of animals
Tuesday, 27 April 2010 – 9:17am IST | Place: Bangalore | Agency: DNA
He was 94 and is survived by six daughters and a son. A fifth generation Englishman in India, John was a hunter by instinct.
The man who introduced the concept of eco-tourism in Karnataka, Col John Felix Wakefield or Papa John as the conservationist and naturalist was called, breathed his last at Kabini in HD Kote of Mysore district on Monday.
He was 94 and is survived by six daughters and a son. A fifth generation Englishman in India, John was a hunter by instinct. He killed a tiger when he was 9 and was accompanying his father, who was an employee of the Maharaja of Tikara. But the Wildlife Preservation Act of 1972 changed all that and he became an arch conservationist.
Born on March 21, 1916 in Gaya, John knew the forest like the back of his hand. He rose to the rank of a colonel in the army, after participating in the World War II. After his stint with the army ended, he began a career in wildlife tourism.
John’s love story with Karnataka began 32 years ago when he came to Kabini from Tiger Tops resort in Nepal. He immediately fell in love with the place and was instrumental in setting up a Tiger Tops resort at Kabini. In 1984, the state government took over the resort and rechristened it as Jungle Lodges and Resorts, with John as its founding director. After this, Kabini became his home and locals were his family.
John was undergoing treatment in Bangalore’s Columbia Asia Hospital, for over a month. “Two days ago he expressed his desire to go back to Kabini and we brought him here. It was his last wish that his body be burnt rather than buried. This will happen on Tuesday and his great grandson will perform the last rites. After he became a conservationist, he believed that it was always better to shoot an animal with a camera rather than a gun,” his daughter, Jacqueline Lord, who stays in England and had come down to be with him for his last birthday, told DNA.
Sanjay Gubbi, assistant director (conservation policy), Wildlife Conservation Society — India Programme, Centre for Wildlife Studies, said, “Col Wakefield provided employment opportunities for villagers which was very crucial in building local support for conservation efforts.”
Karnataka State Tourism Development Corporation managing director Vinay Luthra recalled: “John used to drive his jeep into the forest. It seemed like he used to talk to animals and they too recognised him. Once an elephant was running towards the jeep, Papa said stop and it stopped. This showed his rapport with animals.”
How ‘Papa’ Wakefield brought Darwin to Kabini
SUNAAD RAGHURAM writes: Just like the wavy flocks of painted storks that lift off softly into the bamboo-dotted horizon along the shimmering blueness of the Kabini backwaters around the tiny hamlet of Karapura, a gentle soul left on a journey of its own.
Col. John Wakefield, aged 95, bid his last goodbye to the one place he loved to live in and single handedly place on the world tourism map: Kabini.
A Briton born in the India of the days of the Raj; a boy who grew up in the royals environs of a principality in Bihar, and eased into a privileged lifestyle punctuated by the shouts of nannies rising over gun fire while being out on a shikar; a boy who shot his first panther while he was all of eleven years old; a man who had the opportunity to see our country in all its ancientness; one who was witness to a completely bygone era where Studebakers and Morris Minors, Austins and Aston Martins; and elephants and palanquins were part of the traffic on some remote tree lined avenue somewhere in the north of India; perhaps Bihar, perhaps Delhi.
Where life was lived in an unhurried repose amidst the grandiosity of palaces, the splendour of horsemen with their colourful head gear, the richness of caparisoned elephants and the general conviviality of an altogether different India.
An India that was royal in demeanour and culture, a country that was a source of amazing enchantment for the rest of the world.
This is the India that John Wakefield fell in love with; this is the land that never left him ever. “My father sent me to England for my schooling,” he once told me. “But I ran back in less than two years. I simply could not get to like that country.”
That’s how John Wakefield was made.
And that’s how he lived till the end.
An Englishman who was more Indian than English in his heart, a young boy who loved to be identified with the dust bowls of Bihar that the lushness of Brighton; a man who was mesmerized more by the Kabini than the charm of all of the British isles.
A man who chose to make it his home for the last three decades of his life.
John Wakefield came to Kabini in the late 1970s to set up a wildlife resort for the Karnataka government. A government that had a man called R. Gundu Rao as one of the ministers.
Gundu Rao, a man of infinite dynamism, saw in Wakefield a sure investment for the future as far as showcasing the fantastic wildlife of the Kakanakote jungles went. He invited him to remote Heggada Devana Kote near Mysore.
And it was at Karapura, a small village bordering the jungles, where the Maharaja of Mysore had a hunting lodge that a jungle retreat began to take shape under the guidance of John Wakefield.
And eventually one that came to be regarded as one of the best in the world.
Aided as much by the presence of a mind boggling array of wild life, from the gorgeous herds of elephants on the shores of the Kabini back waters to the magical glimpse of the tiger, as by the very presence of Wakefield who brought into the process of running a wild life resort a sense of punctual promptness.
Not seen until then in any government involved tourism venture.
Safaris on the dot, both morning and evening; staff that had to report to him the sighting of anything and everything, be it a black naped hare or a leopard on a tree after each trip; the casual charm of the dining area by the back waters; the warm cleanliness of the rooms with their squeaky clean white bed sheets on cots that seemed to be made of ancient rosewood placed on a terracotta tiled floor; the cosy attractiveness of the bar with its high framed drinks cabinet and its tall stools where many a tale of adventure and excitement in the magnificent Kabini jungles were shared among wildlife aficionados who gathered around towards nightfall with their gins and whiskeys.
Somewhere in the background of it all, there was John Wakefield.
I first caught glimpse of John Wakefield sometime in the mid 1980s, at a place called Balle in the heart of the Kakanakote jungles, driving an open top jeep with a jerry can attached to the side.
Wearing a typical British hat, he was on his way to the town of Manandavadi across the border in Kerala. He was 70—and an energetically adventurous 70 at that, driving a jeep in the searing heat through the jungle all by himself.
And to think in those days the Kabini jungles were more remote and cut off that they are today, a place where only the really genuinely interested wild lifers made their way to, either on a scooter like I used to, or in a rickety old Ambassador car.
Wakefield, perhaps in keeping with the old, genteel traditions that harked back to the days of royalty in an era which seems like it belonged to another planet really, was all courtesy.
At all times.
A gentle knock on the door which had a small legend that said, ‘Private’ to the right portion of the impressive main building on the Gulmohar filled campus of the lodge in Karapur, almost always elicited a crisp, ‘come in’, unless he was taking a siesta, from the man who was always in jungle fatigues with two if not three pens pinned to the insides of his humongous pocket.
There was to the man a sense of calm dignity; a feeling of satiety at having lived life to the full; an air of warmth in his manners and a friendly twinkle in his eyes which were all immensely complemented by the portliness of his frame.
Wakefield spoke in an accent that was not completely British, clipped or anything. His sentences were more rounded with an exuberant expansiveness, the same qualities that came into effect when he reminisced his life under the Indian sun!
Of how one of his forefathers had been smitten by the loveliness of a Rajput princess, a ‘nubile girl of singular beauty’; of how the young man had clambered the high walls of the palace somewhere in Rajasthan just to fetch a glimpse of the lady and how he had hid in a camel caravan in order to spend moments of intimacy with her and how he finally married her, the same lady who bore him four children thereafter!
Of how members of his clan had colonized Australia on behalf of the Queen of England and about the fact that he belonged to the same lineage as Charles Darwin!
All this and more issued forth from the alertness of his mind even at age 90, accompanied by the mandatory glasses of scotch whiskey he consumed with such unbridled joyousness after sun down sitting in the porch of his small room that he occupied to the edge of the main building. He would never let you go without a drink and as for dinner, while it would be a lengthy repast for you if you minded, he would finish with a piece of chicken or a small helping of salad or a cutlet.
He always said that his favourite scotch was Famous Grouse but then he offered you that and many other varieties and even rum if you so wished to sip. John Wakefield spoke Hindi with a great degree of proficiency; a testimony to his life lived entirely in India.
On one occasion, when I visited him one evening, he greeted me with his customary warmth and even as I was settling down in the sofa under the porch, he asked what I would like to drink. In one of those moments of extravagant fun, I replied in Hindi saying, ‘Kuch Nai’! A hint of a smile began to play on his gentle face as he immediately got up from his seat and began to shuffle his way into his room.
As I sat perplexed, he returned with a bottle in his hands. Placing it on the table to the side, alongside which was the framed photograph of a handsome tusker reaching out to a succulent shoot of bamboo somewhere along the backwaters of the Kabini, he said, ‘this is for you’.
My eyes popped out in sheer disbelief when I picked up the bottle of whiskey which had a smart label on it which said, ‘Kuch Nai’!
Wakefield sat chuckling as I tried to come to terms with a brand of scotch that I had never heard of before and one that he told me was owned by a Canadian Sikh who had come up with such an improbably brilliant name for his product!
I once took two friends along to meet Wakefield. As the evening meandered along in the gentle swing of the beautiful conversations we were having, my friends, impressed by the magnitude of the grand old man and fuelled by the warmth of the whiskey inside them, promptly touched his feet in a show of complete reverence!
Even to this day, I don’t know how Wakefield felt at this rather unexpected form of respect that had been bestowed upon him in the most Indian fashion possible!
I always reminded myself that John Wakefield was in his 90s, an age which only few men live to see. Somewhere deep down I always told myself that he should go on for a few more years, in the salubriousness of Kabini. But then, age and its attendant problems caught up soon enough.
John Wakefield is no more with us. For me, my trips to Kabini will leave a certain hollow ache deep inside me.
For surely, my mind will always go back to the times when I spent many an evening with a remarkable man called John Wakefield, well into his 90’s and yet with a joie de vivre, rarely seen in men half his age; with the myriad stars shining in the summer sky over Kabini with a herd of elephants trumpeting in shrill joy in the far distance with a
John Papa battles to retain controlled tourism
By Naren Karunakaran
Colonel John Wakefield, 92, who shot his first tiger when he was 10 but is now a passionate conservationist, is battling to keep ‘market forces’ away from Karnataka’s Kabini River Lodge
Colonel John WakefieldThe jungles of Kabini, sandwiched between the Nagarhole and Bandipur national parks, have been the favourite hunting ground of royalty, noblemen and sovereigns. For the Maharaja of Meerut and the maharanis of Jodhpur and Cooch Behar, Kabini was a magnificent diversion from the burdens of governing.
King Edward, the Prince of Wales and Lord Mountbatten visited in 1921. The Russian grand dukes were also mesmerised by the beauty of the deciduous forest, its rich wildlife and the placid Kabini river. They arrived here as early as 1891.
Today’s Kabini River Lodge, with its colonial-style bungalows, guest facilities and ambience (once the hunting lodge of the Maharaja of Mysore) is repository of a wonderful hoard of memories. The lodge remains the jewel in the crown of the Karnataka government’s Jungle Lodge and Resorts (JLR) and contributes almost 50% of its annual turnover.
Colonel John Felix Wakefield, 92, conservationist, naturalist, pioneer of wildlife tourism in India and the living legend of Kabini, has the key to this repository. The colonel is resident director of JLR and lives on this 54-acre magical campus, bordered on three sides by a bend in the Kabini.
‘John Papa’ as he is known to friends, colleagues and regulars was groomed to be a hunter by his father, an Englishman in the employ of the Maharaja of Tikari in Bihar. John was born in Gaya.
His great-grandfather came to India from England in 1826 and served in the Bengal army. Papa’s family tree embraces the likes of Robert Barclay, a descendant of King Edward I, and Frances Darwin, Charles Darwin’s aunt. One of Papa’s forebears, Edward Gibbon Wakefield, went to Australia and later Canada and is known as the ‘builder of the British Commonwealth’.
In keeping with this tradition and upbringing, John took to hunting early. He shot his first leopard when he was just nine years old. A year later, he killed a tigress.
But the man who wielded a gun so early in life is now a diehard conservationist. The transition is his life story.
After a stint in the army (till 1955), Papa chose a career in wildlife tourism and joined the Kumaon Hunters Safari Company. He then worked as a naturalist, escorting wildlife tourists to India’s newly-founded national parks. He took the first tourist to Ranthambhor way back in 1975.
His tenure at the prestigious Tiger Tops Jungle Lodge in Nepal brought him to Karnataka, when the state sought his help to set up something similar to the world-renowned lodge. The Kabini River Lodge thus came into being in 1984.
The years have since rolled by and John Papa, with his passion for wildlife and conservation, has transformed the Kabini River Lodge into a sought-after destination. It conforms to the generally accepted norms of eco-tourism where visitors are expected to depart without leaving a trace of their presence behind.
The popularity of the lodge has, consequently, been soaring. The average occupancy rate, including during the monsoon, is 92%. It has also been rated one of the top five wildlife resorts in the world by the British Tatler Travel Guide.
There are no television sets or telephones at the lodge. “I was appalled at recent hints from some quarters to build up-market facilities like swimming pools,” says Papa. “It is incongruous and such luxuries shouldn’t find a place in the forest.”
He is also concerned about recent collaborations between large Indian hotel chains and Conservation Corporation-Africa, a company that specialises in ‘luxury’ safaris. “It’s a big mistake,” he insists, as he battles the increasing trend of unbridled commercialisation.
Papa is all for what he describes as “controlled tourism” with a degree of sensitivity for fragile ecosystems and a healthy respect for regulations. He is also sensitive to the livelihood needs of villagers. Forest-dwellers, including the Jenu and Kadu Kuruba tribes, have been trained and employed. Over 90% of employees at the lodge are locals.
The lodge used to source much of its provisions from the villagers too, with the intention of boosting and sustaining the local economy. However the management, citing quality and pricing, has recently begun buying from Bangalore’s Metro Cash and Carry. Papa is visibly dismayed.
But he has evidently retained the instincts of a fighter. He won’t give up easily. Indeed, Colonel John Felix Wakefield epitomises the spirit of responsible tourism.
(Naren Karunakaran is a journalist based in New Delhi)
InfoChange News & Features, May 2007
to be continued ……
yogirb 