I would call myself a habitat management specialist. I work on habitat conservation for the sake of wildlife. When I was studying for my Bachelor of Science at the University of Hong Kong (HKU), I was especially interested in cell functions and the stories behind life itself. I initially planned to major in biochemistry. But when I did experiments with microscopic things like DNA and cells, I got no sense of accomplishment because I couldn’t really see the subjects I was studying. At the same time, I started going on birdwatching trips with my classmates who studied ecology and environmental science. I became deeply fascinated. I wanted to protect the living things that I could see with naked eyes. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to major in Ecology because of the graduation rules. In 2019, I enrolled in the Master of Science in Environmental Management programme at HKU. I was finally able to graduate from a department related to ecology. It made up for that regret.

In my previous jobs, I was lucky enough to work in a number of nature reserves from different perspectives and using different management approaches. I feel quite proud of that. I was involved in habitat management at Mai Po Nature Reserve, which has mangroves, mudflats and fish ponds. We regularly lowered the water levels in the ponds to create shallow spots in the wetlands where waterbirds could feed on fish during the winter. I also cycled to places to do surveys. I observed wildlife and recorded the names of bird species with a voice recorder. It was really nice. When I worked at the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department, I was involved in forest management in areas like Tai Po Kau Nature Reserve and Tai Mo Shan Country Park. At our office in the country park, my main tasks included managing the visitor facilities, checking the health of trees, coordinating things and liaising with local villagers, and conducting park patrols.

When humans interact with the environment in the right way, plants and animals will be attracted, and the ecology will be enriched. Some people believe that forests and country parks should be kept as natural as possible, with minimal interference. But trees age and may need to be replanted, depending on their conditions. If water is not regularly released into the ponds of Mai Po, birds will find no fish to feed on and they will stop coming. The ecological value of the area will decline. So, we have to observe what nature needs and get involved accordingly, although that doesn’t mean we can do whatever we like.

When the wetlands in Shui Hau were still regularly used for growing rice 50 years ago, there was probably a rich variety of wildlife. After the farmland was abandoned, water from upstream no longer concentrated in one area. Instead, it spread across the undulating terrain. As a result, certain species of big dragonflies stopped coming. When the Bird Watching Society came here to restore the farmland and create mud mounds, our team moved the mud from a straight path to both sides of the path. The sunken area became a water channel. Later on, big dragonflies returned and laid their eggs.

Another example is the trees in the wetlands. From a conservation management perspective, the bigger a wetland, the better, because wetlands have a rich ecological environment. But then trees will grow nearby and even invade the wetland. That will change the ecology of the area. Cutting trees can be a solution, but we conducted research and found that not all trees could be easily chopped down. Also, there were a few trees that eastern cattle egrets especially liked to rest on. So it was actually better to keep the trees. This is what adaptive management means in habitat management. You can’t just rigidly stick to a plan but have to make adjustments according to actual situations. That’s very interesting.

The Bird Watching Society’s “Between Mountain and Sea – Nature Conservation Management for Shui Hau” programme was launched in late 2021. We rented land from villagers to recultivate the old rice fields. Initially, we planned to use excavators to open up the fields and expected to finish the work in two months. But then we did a survey and found that using heavy machinery would seriously impact the wetlands. We didn’t want the restoration to destroy the habitat of local wildlife. So we consulted many farming specialists and eventually decided to do all the work by hand.

In Hong Kong, it’s pretty rare to restore rice paddies entirely from scratch. Farmers need to know how to calculate the water levels and manage the flow of water between the fields. We came up with many plans but they didn’t work. So we kept making adjustments as we went, but I have no regrets about opening up the fields entirely by hand.

In 2023, we were living in hell! We were supposed to open up 5,000 square metres of farmland before the deadline, which was at the end of 2024. But switching to manual labour was much slower. According to older-generation farmers, we should transplant the rice seedlings before Autumn Commences (one of the 24 traditional solar terms in the traditional Chinese calendar). We managed to keep up with the schedule, so we picked a spot in the middle of the farmland where it was easy to transport materials and had better soil and water conditions. We were three staff members from the Society and one farmer. We officially started opening up the farmland in June 2023. First, we built the paddy bunds, which framed the paddies. Within this frame, we kept shovelling and turning the soil over and over. The weedy wasteland was gradually transformed into arable land. We were aware of the deadline and kept going. On 8 August 2023, which was Autumn Commences, we finally reclaimed 1,000 square metres of farmland. I will forever remember that date.

We mocked ourselves and called ourselves “the Bird Watching Society’s beggar trio”, because we always looked shabby and scruffy. We also cracked dark jokes like: “How many heatstrokes did you have today?” “Three.” “Oh, it was four yesterday! (Good improvement.)” The villagers saw how hard we worked, and they often treated us to drinks. Some even gave us rolls of tissue paper. The village head also teased us. He said: “Other people who come into the village (for work) wear makeup and have gel nails. You guys also have gel nails, but the gel you use is mud!” We were so happy that the villagers welcomed us. We tried to make light of the hardship!

At that time, I was trying to lose weight before my wedding. Opening up the fields in the Shui Hau “gym room” helped me lose 20 kilograms. The paddy fields were later hit by two black rainstorms and a typhoon signal No 10. When the harvest came in November, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. We harvested 50 kilograms of rice. After threshing, it became 25 kilograms and only 16 after milling. Some villagers who helped with the project said: “It’d be nice if we could get a catty or two.” I thought: “Oh no, there’s not enough.” In the end, each person got a small bag of rice, which was enough for one meal. It was the thought that counted. When the villagers saw that the “beggar trio” actually produced something real, they had more trust in us.

When we first looked for land to farm, we brought along a list of farming plots in Shui Hau. We asked villagers for help, like Mink (Chan Fung-ming), the village head (Chan Yuk-kei), Fung Wong Bungalow Store’s Boss Wing (Chan Chau-wing) and Brother Wah (Chan Sun-wah). We went door to door talking to villagers about the land lease. They would also share their childhood memories with us. Mink said that from her home, she used to see a golden rice field across the road. Further away, there was the beach. Granny Chi (Chi Tai) could name all the rice varieties ever grown in Shui Hau. Some of them have been lost to the village. Some villagers could point out the exact locations of the old fields. They told us to look for the old waterholes and drainage outlets.

Working in the village, I saw the villagers as my friends. When a stream was blocked, I would contact the Drainage Services Department trying to get help. I tried to help out as much as I could, and the villagers would return the favour. One night, it was pouring while my colleague was doing a frog ecology survey. When the villagers saw that, they gave the colleague a raincoat. In the Conservation Management Agreement Project, the villagers’ support is the most important factor. They absolutely have the right to join in or opt out. If we want to continue long-term, we have to communicate with them sincerely and build the relationship every day, so that they know what we’re up to. We also need to deliver real results. The society regularly holds meetings with them. We shared photos with them after planting the rice, and we invited everyone to join in the harvest. That time when typhoon signal No. 10 hit, part of the bird net was blown loose. Then, nearly 100 munias flew in through the gaps. I immediately asked a colleague to release them — I didn’t want them to eat all the crops. We needed to have a harvest to present to the villagers!

The simple slogan of “conserving Shui Hau’s ecosystem” actually covers a lot — the villagers’ and visitors’ desire for beautiful scenery, farmers’ hope for good harvests, biodiversity that the Bird Watching Society and ecologists care about, and even the needs of wildlife. With the Conservation Management Agreement project, we connect various stakeholders. And, with the support of the Lantau Conservation Fund, we are able to move in the right direction.