In the heart of Spain’s Doñana national park, a battle is being waged to safeguard one of the most important wetlands in Europe. Doñana, with its impressive landscapes and extraordinary biodiversity, hosts an estimated 6 million migratory birds every year. But its fate hangs in the balance.
Despite declining water supplies, illegal wells and encroaching strawberry farms, and amid warnings from Unesco and the European Commission, the People’s party (PP) and far-right Vox party in the Andalucían regional government are pushing to legalise irrigation in the park, which straddles the provinces of Huelva and Seville in south-west Spain.
These are some of the “guardians of Doñana”, including scientists, ecologists and park rangers, at the forefront of the battle to protect Doñana’s delicate ecosystem.
Yasmine El Bouyafrouri, vet
Yasmine El Bouyafrouri gently places an Iberian lynx cub named Ozezno on to a table where he will be fitted with a transmitter to track his movements in the wild and gather data about his new life. El Bouyafrouri, a vet at El Acebuche lynx breeding centre in Doñana, has been examining Osezno to be sure he is ready to be released into the wild.
Conservation efforts have seen the numbers of Iberian lynx grow to more than 1,000 across Spain and Portugal
The Iberian lynx was on the brink of extinction a few years ago but thanks to the reintroduction efforts at the centre and several others in Spain and Portugal the wild cat is now designated as endangered rather than critically endangered.
When El Acebuche began operating in 2003, the lynx population was less than 100; today, it has risen to more than 1,000 across Spain and Portugal, with 40 cubs born this year.
El Bouyafrouri is from Madrid but left the city to fulfil her dream of working as a vet in conservation. She fondly remembers her early days when she hand-reared abandoned lynx cubs with a feeding bottle. But she has also experienced very tough moments such as “the horrific fire” that destroyed more than 6,000 hectares (15,000 acres) of the park in 2017.
“It forced us to evacuate the centre and resulted in the death of one of the lynxes due to stress. Almost the entire park burned. It was terrible.”
Alvaro Robles, park ranger
Alvaro Robles is the fourth generation of park rangers in his family to work in Doñana national park. He says his dream is for his daughter, Alba (pictured with her father), to become the fifth generation. “This is my home,” he says, as he steers a 4x4 through a sea of dunes. The vehicle stops in front of some whitewashed houses. “I was born in this house. Here, my brother and I used to play cowboys and Indians on horseback. This was our playground,” he says, pointing to the vast marshland.
Robles patrols the park on horseback
At Santa Olalla lake, the aquatic soul of the wetland, the sound of flamingos gathering mingles with the calls of egrets and avocets. “This is my world, and I wouldn’t change it for anything,” says Robles.
He points out different species to his daughter. “That’s a shoveler duck, and that’s a flamingo,” he says. At seven years old, Alba can already distinguish numerous “residents” of Doñana, and at school tells her friends how her father takes care of the park. “Education is very important,” says Robles. “If we learn to love our environment from a young age, we will protect and preserve it as it becomes part of our lives.”
Carmen Paniagua, scientist
Scientist Carmen Díaz Paniagua’s preferred working hours are after the sun has set. “The night holds a unique magic in this environment for me. Being able to listen to amphibians, frogs, knowing that you are alone with them, it’s marvellous,” she says while unloading fishing nets, torches, notebooks and rubber boots.
She and her team of researchers at the Doñana Biological Station are collecting samples in the Sopetón lagoon. Despite the abundance of fauna and flora, Paniagua warns: “Doñana is drying up.”
An aerial view of Doñana national park, which stretches across 54,252 hectares (134,000 acres)
Last summer, Santa Olalla lake, the largest permanent lake in Doñana, dried up for the first time. “More than 1,000 illegal wells are stealing water from Doñana,” says Paniagua, who explains that people don’t see what is happening because it is going on underground.
Doñana park shares its space with more than 200,000 people in the province of Huelva. The pressure on the natural habitat is immense. The creation of a golf course nearby, the demand for water from the nearby town of Matalascañas (a tourist town whose population multiplies by up to 40 in the summer, exceeding 100,000 inhabitants), and the illegal crops that overexploit the aquifer are some of the worst threats to the park. The biologist says that if water continues to be extracted at the current levels, “we will ultimately end up without Doñana”.
Beltrán de Ceballos, ornithologist
“Conservation measures are key to protecting the park, but it is necessary for people to fall in love with their wetlands to protect them,” says Beltrán de Ceballos, founder of the Dehesa de Abajo nature reserve. His first visit to Doñana was at the age of 14, and he felt he had found “la Mecca”. Since that day, he has dedicated himself to improving the ecosystems where birds live, restoring the beautiful Dehesa de Abajo.
Flamingos are among an estimated 6 million birds that visit the park each year
The reserve draws people from all over the world who want to see the birds, but Ceballos says that what is really important is that the inhabitants of the area are part of all this. “People are realising Doñana’s high ecological value.”
José María Galán, tracker
José María Galán learned his skills from the bushmen of the Kalahari desert. When he returned to Doñana in 1992, he became one of the best wildlife trackers in Europe, collecting scientific data to help conserve the space.
Galán has carried out research in India and Yellowstone in the US but, despite having travelled the world, says: “The most powerful moments I have experienced in nature are right here, in Doñana.
The park has been recognised as a Unesco world heritage site because of its extraordinary biodiversity
“My cosmos is Doñana, I was born here, I grew up here and, most importantly, I have ventured out of here to appreciate this. As my grandmother used to say, we don’t realise what we have until we lose it.”
He says it is important to connect with nature, to open up to new ways of seeing and observing. “When we break free of preconceived notions, that’s when the process of falling in love really begins. Ultimately, it is through knowledge that one falls in love and, hence, feels the need to preserve what one loves.
“We need more Doñana – not only for the park itself, but for ourselves.”
Juan Camacho, fisher
The air is gentle, carrying the scent of salt, and Juan Camacho positions himself at the bow of the boat to greet the sun. He opens his arms and closes his eyes. “This is my life,” he happily declares. “I come here not only for my job, but because I love the sea. It is where I feel alive.”
Local fishers are awarded special permits to go fishing in the park’s waters
Camacho and his son, who have a special permit, go fishing every day in Doñana national park. His catch supports his family of three children.
Like the other fishers in the area, he knows how important it is to preserve the sea and the environment. “Conserving our seas is the key to our existence,” he says.
He is concerned about a dredging project planned for the Guadalquivir river, which would allow larger vessels to enter the port of Seville, resulting in an increased influx of saltwater into the estuary. “If they dredge the river, it is like taking away the food from the prawns. They won’t eat, they won’t breed, and as someone who relies on prawns for work, I would starve,” he says.
“I never want to think that I would have to sell my boat because of mismanagement that prevents us from having food,” Camacho says, his eyes filled with tears. “It’s my life and the lives of my children.”
Julián Borja, rice grower
Julián Borja, a rice farmer from Isla Mayor, was among the first to cultivate the crop in Doñana. “The worst aggression against Doñana is the dredging,” he says. “If the river is dredged, it will gain speed. When the water, the good freshwater, gains speed, it will flow rapidly towards the sea. Conversely, when the tide changes, the saltwater from the sea will invade the estuary.”
Borja is concerned that if dredging goes ahead, it ‘would mean the end for the marshland’
He has a message for the Spanish government: “Gentlemen, dredging is disastrous, and we will not let it happen. It shouldn’t be done, and it won’t be done.” The dredging project has been halted for now after an international outcry, but there are fears it could be resurrected. “The project to dredge the river, to deepen it for larger vessels, would mean the end for the marshland,” says Borja.
Flamingos fly over the park as the sun sets
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