Tigers Goes To Bay: Trap Cameras Catch Whiskered Wanderers
A devoted foodie with keen interest in wild life, music,…
Trap cameras in the remote southernmost islands of the Sundarbans have captured multiple images of Bengal tigers, highlighting the success of conservation efforts in the world’s largest mangrove forest.
In a development that has foresters grinning like Suchitra Sen (though with considerably less sex- appeal), tigers have been caught on camera—again—padding about on two remote islands in the Sunderbans, where land runs out of patience and spills into the Bay of Bengal. But before you get any clever ideas about booking a tiger-spotting cruise, do be warned: the exact locations are being kept under tighter wraps like the files on the disappearance of Subash Chandra Bose.
According to a senior forest official—who we shall call “the cautious custodian of cats”—naming the islands would be tantamount to hanging a ‘welcome’ sign for poachers. “Best not to hand out treasure maps to the wrong crowd,” he quipped, perhaps with a twinkle in his eye, though one imagines it was hidden behind a stern bureaucratic frown.
Of the two islands in question, one is about 3km from the Kendo forest beat, and the other—a bit more elusive and dashing—is a further 4km south, practically brushing shoulders with Bangladesh. That makes it the southernmost tip of Bengal, a fact that gives it the air of a romantic exile, should a tiger ever wish to pen moody poetry about isolation and salt winds.
As part of Bengal’s annual tiger headcount—or “Operation Spot-the-Stripe”, as some in the know might call it—trap cameras were deployed across the Sunderbans over the winter. The results have been, in a word, roarsome. Six tiger images were captured on the smaller island (roughly 5 square kilometres of wild charm), and even more from the larger one. Of course, one tiger can strike a pose more often than a catwalk model, so the images are currently under forensic scrutiny to determine whether we’re dealing with a feline family or one particularly photogenic panthera.
“We’ve seen tigers here two years in a row,” said one forest official, practically puffing with pride. “It means all the early mornings, soggy boots, and suspicious glances from crocodiles are paying off.”
Getting to these islands, however, is no walk in the park—or rather, it is, if the park in question is wet, wild, and subject to tidal tantrums. There’s a two-hour window of relative calm between the high tide’s retreat and the water’s sulk. That’s when the forest department slips in quietly, like a librarian with a vendetta.
The tigers, unlike humans, aren’t too bothered by the logistics. As natural swimmers, they take to the currents like ducks to water—or, more aptly, like striped assassins to stealth missions.
The cameras have also snapped a few other bushy-tailed co-stars: leopard cats, wild boars, and deer. A welcome dinner menu, if you’re a tiger. Interestingly, some of the deer were released by the forest department years ago, presumably not expecting them to RSVP with a note saying, “Delighted to provide sustenance for apex predators.”
Rajendra Jakhar, the field director of the Sundarban Tiger Reserve (STR), attributes the tiger turnout to “extensive conservation efforts”—code for more patrolling, fewer humans poking about, and a blanket ban on trawlers who used to treat these fragile islands like picnic spots. “The engines and their cacophony were scaring the living daylights out of everything,” said Jakhar. “And don’t get me started on the plastic.”
These islands, officially part of the core forest area, are now strictly no-go zones for fishermen, no matter how adventurous their GPS. Violators have been caught, fined, and—one hopes—given a stern lecture involving phrases like “ecosystem balance” and “do you mind?”
More than 1,400 cameras were installed across the STR and South 24-Parganas forest division between November 2024 and January 2025, in what must have been the Sunderbans’ answer to the Oscars. And the tigers, true to form, arrived fashionably late but stole the show.
The final word on Bengal’s tiger population, however, rests with the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA), which released its latest findings in 2023, clocking 101 tigers in the Sunderbans and 3,682 across India. The state-level exercise, though hush-hush about exact numbers these days, serves as a way to see whether the anti-poaching patrols and habitat TLC are bearing fruit.
“The early signs are encouraging,” said an official at Aranya Bhavan, sounding like a proud parent at a school play. “In three out of four forest ranges, the tiger count appears to have risen. We’re not counting our cubs before they pounce, but it’s looking promising.”
So there you have it. While most of us are worrying about mortgages and mobile signal, out there in the wild, tigers are reclaiming their realm—one pawprint at a time.
And somewhere deep in the mangroves, beneath the shifting tides and the watchful eye of a hidden camera, the king of the jungle yawns, stretches, and begins another day, blissfully unaware that he’s just made headlines.
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A devoted foodie with keen interest in wild life, music, cinema and travel Somashis has evolved over time . Being an enthusiastic reader he has recently started making occasional contribution to write-ups.
