Our oceans are in crisis, and Thailand’s ‘sea cows’ are sounding the alarm. Once thriving along the Andaman Coast, these gentle marine mammals, known as dugongs, are now washing ashore dead or stranded, signaling a deeper ecological catastrophe. With their population potentially halved in recent years, the plight of these creatures is a stark reminder of the fragility of marine life. But here’s where it gets even more alarming: their struggle isn’t just about one species—it’s a symptom of a broader biodiversity collapse in our seas.
Thailand’s Andaman Coast was once a sanctuary for one of the world’s largest dugong populations, boasting an estimated 273 individuals as of 2022. Yet, in a troubling trend, more and more of these ‘sea cows’ have been found lifeless on its shores. Experts now fear the population has plummeted by over 50%. In late November, I journeyed to Phuket, following the investigative trail of filmmakers Mailee Osten-Tan and Nick Axelrod, whose Guardian documentary has shed light on this crisis over the past year. Their work underscores a grim reality: the very presence of dugongs in Phuket is a red flag, pointing to the degradation of their natural habitats.
But why are dugongs in Phuket in the first place? Normally, they thrive in the seagrass-rich waters of Trang province, about 62 miles (100km) away. However, much of this seagrass has vanished in recent years, forcing dugongs to venture farther in search of food. This displacement is a stark indicator of the environmental pressures our oceans face, from pollution to climate change. And this is the part most people miss: the decline of seagrass isn’t just a local issue—it’s a global warning sign.
For over a decade, I’ve documented the extinction crisis ravaging the world’s biodiversity, from vanishing forests to melting Arctic tundra. Yet, the struggles of marine species often go unnoticed until their bodies wash ashore. Even then, they rarely capture the same attention as their land-dwelling counterparts. Unless a marine animal possesses undeniable charisma, its extinction can unfold silently, out of human sight. This makes advocates like Theerasak Saksritawee, or ‘Pop,’ all the more crucial. A local photographer with 26,000 Instagram followers, Pop uses captivating drone imagery to highlight the dugongs’ plight, hoping to spark a social movement for their protection. ‘Many people focus on sea turtles and dolphins,’ he notes. ‘Some don’t even know where a dugong’s eyes are.’
Here’s where it gets controversial: While scientists initially suspected that rising sea temperatures might be killing seagrass, as seen in global coral bleaching events, Thailand’s Andaman Sea actually experienced cooler temperatures in 2023. By mid-2024, when temperatures spiked, dugong strandings were already rampant. So, what’s really to blame? Scientists point to a complex mix of factors: silt reducing light for seagrass, pollution, dredging, nutrient overload, extreme temperatures, and tidal exposure. This raises a thought-provoking question: Are we addressing the right threats, or are we missing the bigger picture?
One glimmer of hope is the UN’s high seas treaty, which recently came into force. Aiming to protect and sustainably manage marine life in international waters, it’s a step toward the global goal of safeguarding 30% of our oceans by 2030. But will it be enough? After leaving Tang Khen Bay, I wandered Phuket’s bustling old town, searching for signs of dugongs in local culture. Among the tourist trinkets, I found just one pin featuring a cartoonish dugong—its eyes clearly visible. It’s a small start, but cultural awareness could be key to their survival.
What do you think? Is the UN treaty a game-changer, or are we too late to save species like the dugong? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s keep this conversation going.
