Kerala

Conservation Stories

Guardians of the Tides: A Personal Journey Through Kannur’s Living Mangrove Heritage

As I rowed gently through the narrow tidal creeks of Kannur, the landscape unfolded before me—tangled mangrove roots cradling the banks, sunlight dancing through the dense canopy, and the calls of distant waterbirds echoing across the stillness. To a casual observer, it may appear as just another patch of wild green. But I’ve come to realize that beneath this calm exterior lies a remarkable story—one of resistance, revival, and the quiet strength of community-led conservation.

Over the years, as I’ve explored and introduced this region to people from around the world, I’ve come to appreciate how deeply human stories are interwoven with natural ones. In Kannur, where Kerala’s mangrove cover is most extensive, I had the privilege of witnessing a conservation movement that’s both deeply inspiring and rooted in local commitment. Two organizations in particular—SEEK and the Wildlife Trust of India—have been at the heart of this transformation, turning degraded and endangered mangrove areas into thriving ecosystems.

What makes this place even more special is its legacy. Kannur is the home of Kallen Pokkudan, Kerala’s beloved “Mangrove Man.” His pioneering efforts in raising awareness and planting mangroves live on through the work of organizations like SEEK (Society for Environmental Education in Kerala). SEEK, one of the earliest environmental movements in the state, has gone far beyond education. In a bold and visionary move, they began purchasing privately owned mangrove lands—areas threatened by real estate development, aquaculture, and construction—and turned them into protected green spaces.

Some of these degraded zones have regenerated naturally; others have been painstakingly restored through active planting of native mangrove species. Today, they are living proof of what long-term vision and grassroots action can achieve.

Close by, another remarkable initiative is unfolding. The Wildlife Trust of India (WTI), a national conservation organization, has been working in Kannur through the Kannur Kandal Project. Their focus, like SEEK’s, blends conservation with education and empowerment. I’ve had the chance to visit their demonstration centre near Payyanur, where they run awareness programs and community outreach, especially among students and local youth. But their work doesn’t stop there—they, too, have acquired vulnerable mangrove patches and transformed them into flourishing corridors of life.

What moved me most is how these places have become outdoor classrooms, where learning happens through direct experience. I’ve walked muddy trails with local naturalists, glided silently in rowboats and kayaks alongside activists, and listened to stories of forgotten creeks rediscovered and birds returning after years of absence.

These encounters—up close with mudskippers, kingfishers, and the fragile seedlings of the next mangrove generation—are memorable. But it’s the people behind the work who leave the deepest impact: scientists, teachers, local leaders, and volunteers who’ve dedicated their lives to protecting these ecosystems. Their stories are not just informative; they’re profoundly human.

In a world where environmental despair often feels overwhelming, the work happening in Kannur offers a rare and powerful alternative—one that speaks of resilience, regeneration, and quiet hope. Personally, this journey has deepened my connection to this land and its people. It’s reminded me that meaningful travel isn’t just about discovering new places—it’s about understanding the delicate threads that connect us all.

Every time I return to these mangroves, I’m reminded that change is possible—not through grand gestures, but through patient, persistent care. And I feel honoured to be able to share this ongoing story with others, one seedling, one conversation, and one journey at a time.