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The Search of Garuda on Mount Merapi

by Rahmadiyono Widodo*

A thick fog combined with the cold still blanketing the morning, accompanying two pairs of feet walking to the top of the hills of Mount Merapi. Slowly but surely, we arrived at the peak although we did some stops to regain energy. That morning in early September 2017, me and a member of the Forest Ecosystem Controller (PEH) of Mount Merapi National Park (MMNP) conducted a monitoring of a Javan Hawk-eagle (Nisaetus bartelsi). The monitoring itself is an annual activity organized by PEH together with Jogja Bird Watchers Association (JBWA), usually in August or September before the predator bird’s migration season begins.

Monitoring the Javan Hawk-eagle is important because this species is one of the 25 conservation priority animals in Indonesia. It is also one of the types included in the list of rarest birds in the world with the Endangered (Hirschfeld, Andy, and Robert, 2013). Its critical conservation status is caused by several things, such as breeding factors (Javan Hawk-eagle is a monogamous bird that only lays one egg every 2-3 years), habitat destruction, and poaching.

Javan Hawk-eagle trade can reach 30-40 individuals in one year (Indah, 2018). In the year of 2015, 121 individuals of this species were traded online only from five trading groups (Iqbal, 2016). One of the causes of the high trade is its exoticism. Since designated by the government as a national identity animal because of its resemblance to the Garuda, Javan Hawk-eagles are increasingly in demand for trade both at home and abroad (van Balen, Nijman, and Prins, 2000).

Monitoring of Javan Hawk-eagle in the MMNP area was carried out by placing 2-3 personnels at observation points scattered around Mount Merapi. On 2017 monitoring, my first day on duty was on the eastern slopes, which was in Tegalmulyo Village, Klaten Regency. The observation point that I went to was on a ridge of hill that had a fairly steep slope. The residents used this slope to plant grass as a source of animal feed. I also use the path that residents routinely pass to harvest grass to get to the top of the hill.

Arriving at the top of the hill, the first thing I did was look around, enjoying such a beautiful and calming panorama. Then I looked for a flat area of land to put the bag on and pulled out monitoring equipment such as binoculars and cameras. Finding a flat place on the ridge is quite difficult, but fortunately we got a comfortable place under the shade of acacia trees (Acasia decurens) – an invasive species which has been a problem in some national parks in Indonesia. While waiting for the presence of the Javan Hawk-eagle, Mas Wahid (my colleague from PEH TNGM) cooked our breakfast. Despite being on the slopes of the mountain, his cooking menu was not instant noodles like most climbers cook. He cooked fresh vegetables to fish like a real chef. I was thinking how lucky I was to join the monitoring that year, and laughed. We ate the food together, it was really delicious, and free of charge.

By the time our breakfast was done, no Javan Hawk-eagle was on our sight, which was normal because it was still too early for the creature to be active. Javan eagles are known to be on sight by noon, using the hot air to help them to fly high, and this is the right time to observe from monitoring spots. We found birds with beautiful feathers and melodious chirping, such as the Black-Naped oriole (Oriolus chinensis) and the Yellow-throated Hanging parrot (Loriculus pusillus). On mid-observation, a black bird flew over us. We immediately detected that it was an eagle, judging from the width of the wingspan. It took us a few moments to observe its details and determined that it was a Black Eagle (Ictinaetus malayensis). Although not a javan eagle, the existence of black eagle was important because the presence of other species also affects the javan eagle’s territory on Mount Merapi. Unexpectedly, the black eagle flew lower and approached us. It was the closest encounter with an eagle in my journey as a bird watcher. Looking at the black eagle that seemed to ignore us, I looked at him continuously. Seeing a free-flying bird, especially a rarely seen eagle, was truly a happiness. The bird then flew down the gap between the two hillsides, then disappeared to the canopies.

Black eagle (Ictinaetus malayensis)

The sun was getting hotter, but the cool mountain breeze chilled it. Unlike the morning when we were still energized to walk along the ridge, we chose to stay under the shade of the acacia tree while observing the sky. The black bird came back, this time farther away. We quickly pulled out the camera to take some photos before the bird flew down through the trees, and were happy with the results. With its crest and distinctive wing pattern, we were sure that it was a Javan Hawk-eagle. We got our target on the first day of monitoring. Unfortunately, after waiting until 1 PM in hope to see it again, the priority species did not return. Finally, we went down the hill. The journey down felt faster. At the base of the hill near the residential area, we met residents who had just returned to harvest grass. Tegalmulyo villagers were very friendly and used polite Javanese language despite being older than me. These are the kind of moments that can't be found in the urban area where I live.

Javan-hawk Eagle (Nisaetus bartelsi)

 

Villagers carry grass for fodder while descending the slopes

 

We repeated the monitoring on the second day, with the same spot, companion and activity. The black eagle returned, so close that its wing could not fit on my shot. The javan eagle also appeared, took a long fly above us and glided to the forest. At noon, we headed down the hill to rest and prepare for the third day of monitoring.

Unlike before, on the third day the monitoring spot was the southern slope of Mount Merapi where the forest is denser, precisely on the Turgo hill in Hargobinangun Village, Sleman Regency. The position of the observation point is not as high as in the village of Tegalmulyo; I could even park a motorcycle nearby. The Black-naped Oriole and the Yellow-throated Hanging parrot were out of sight, but we were thankful for the presence of a flock of Indian White-eye (Zosterops palpebrosus) and their melodious calls. At midday, the Javan Hawk-eagle arised from the dense forest of Plawangan hill. The increasingly cloudy weather made us decide to end monitoring activities.

View of the eastern slopes of Mount Merapi

 

A shot of Mount Merapi from the southern slope.

 

I returned to the observation point of the eastern slope on the last day and waited for the Javan eagle on the ridge, but unfortunately the bird was nowhere to be seen. The fog then thickened again and the air grew colder. Realizing that it was impossible to make observations under such conditions, we chose to descend. On our way down, we encountered the Crested Serpent-eagle (Spilornis cheela), the bird I most often encounter on the southern slopes of Merapi. I took the time to take pictures even in low light conditions. Although the Crested Serpent-eagle was perched quietly, I couldn't linger with it because I had to immediately return to Yogyakarta for the afternoon train. My next destination is Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park. From Mount Merapi, move to Mount Semeru.


 

* The author is one of the main winners of the Youth Love National Park blog writing competition (AMCTN) supported by USAID BIJAK, Biodiversity Warriors of KEHATI Foundation, Birdlife Indonesia Association (Burung Indonesia), Tambora Muda, Borneo Orangutan Survival Foundation (BOSF), OnTrack Foundation Media Indonesia (OTMI) and Forest That Indonesia (HII).

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