Hello, I wanted to share this with everyone. I have been voted the Wildlife Photographer of the Year for 2008. This is a great honor for myself, the snow leopard and National Geographic magazine!  The snow leopard story appeared in the June issue of NGM.

I want to thank the Editor in Chief Chris Johns, (for giving me this opportunity and believing in me), my photo Editor Kathy Moran, (my guiding light), Editor at Large Nick Nichols, Emilene Ostlind, Jenna Pirog, and the whole staff at NGM.

I would also like to thank Dr. George Schaller, whose book Stones of Silence showed the snow leopard--and a passionate scientist--for the very first time.

Thank you to the Museum of Natural History in London, the BBC and WildPhotos for holding this important event. The show of all the winners at the Museum of Natural History in London is truly an amazing window on the talent of the winning photographers and our natural world--if any of you are in London please visit. A big thank you to all the judges also!

I had the expert knowledge and unselfish assistance of two friends--Tashi Tundup, from Snow Leopard Conservancy India and Raghu Chundawat from Snow Leopard Trust in Delhi. I cannot thank you both enough.

This was a real collaboration between the snow leopard and myself. Hopefully this award will help further worldwide interest in the beauty and importance of the snow leopard and understanding of our need to protect it. I applaud National Geographic for making this story possible.

Want to help? Please visit these websites of organizations working with the snow leopard:

www.snowleopard.org
www.panthera.org
www.snowleopardconservancy.org

Here is a link to the BBC news item about the award.

Thank you, and “Save the snow leopard.”

Hi everyone, I felt with such an important iconic species as the tiger—the largest cat in the world—I wanted to tell you more about the tiger meeting I just attended (see my last blog) in Huai Kha Khaeng, Thailand.

One disturbing fact that I learned, (and there are many), is that tigers now occupy just 7 percent of their historic range, and have 40 percent less habitat than was estimated 10 years ago.

Camera trap images from the tiger study in Huai Kha Khaeng, Thailand. Photos: Steve Winter.

At the meeting, the researchers outlined the three primary threats that face tigers. First of all, tigers are heavily hunted for their pelts and other body parts for traditional Chinese medicine, and are killed in retribution for preying on livestock or simply just out of fear when they move into or near human settlements.

Secondly, their prey are disappearing: no food, no tigers.

And lastly, tiger habitat continues to disappear and is becoming more fragmented as land is converted for development and agriculture.

Tiger experts estimate that there are about 425,000 square miles of tiger habitat still available, but just 23 percent of this is protected. Thus, tiger conservationists have to think beyond protected areas.

Because tigers are wide-ranging creatures, the bigger the landscape the better for the cats. Panthera, WCS and others are concentrating their conservation efforts on large landscapes that have both prey and tigers—that are, or have the potential to be connected.

The meeting in Thailand went on for five days—and with all this new information I also learned how history seems to play a large part in how people view tigers. Some consider them to be a dangerous pest, wishing they would vanish, while others hold them in awe and are horrified that they are disappearing, aware that the world would be much less rich without these majestic creatures.

Saw Htun and Saw Thoo from the Myanmar program and Dr. Saksit Simcharoen from Huai Kha Khaeng talking tigers and looking at tiger print plaster casts.

Dr. George Schaller, Vice President of Panthera, began his seminal tiger study in 1963 in Kahna, India, which resulted in his groundbreaking book The Deer and the Tiger, published in 1967. Called “the bible of tiger research”, George began a revolution in wildlife biology regarding how to view predators in large landscapes and what is needed for their survival, issues that continue to be relevant to this day as human populations continue to swell.

Dr. Alan Rabinowitz, President and CEO of Panthera, began large cat studies in Huai Kha Khaeng, Thailand, in 1987, and in 1990 began country-wide tiger surveys. He was thrilled to be back at HKK and to see the progress there over the past twenty years—HKK is truly a stronghold for tigers in Thailand.

A few of the presentations at the meeting really stood out for me. In some areas, like India’s Western Ghats, tiger populations have grown exponentially over the last 20 years, with a combination of increased patrols, which reduced poaching of both tigers and their prey, and voluntary resettlement of villages out of protected areas. This very effective program, started by Dr. Ullas Karanth, director of WCS India, has shown dramatic results. Dr. Karanth, who began his long-term tiger research in Nagarahole, India in 1986, was deeply inspired by the work of George Schaller’s work in Kahna.

Nick Brickle and Beebach Wibisono, WCS tiger researchers working in Indonesia, described particularly thorny conflicts between tigers and farmers. Tigers live in forested areas that abut crop fields where farmers raise corn. Wild pigs leave the forest to feast on the corn; tigers love to eat the pigs and follow them—and when farmers put out snares to catch the pigs, they also catch other wildlife, including tigers. These tigers are caught and either killed, or authorities are called and the tiger is shipped off to a zoo. The team radio collared one of these “caught” tigers and relocated it—back to the wild. If that animal comes near human settlements again, the team will know—as it is monitoring the tiger’s movements and a team will be sent out to try to scare it back into the forest with fireworks and firecrackers. This actually happened during the workshop. Nick and Beebach received a call that the tiger was moving close to a village and the team was dispatched with pyrotechnics!

In another amazing presentation, Dale Miquelle and John Goodrich talked about the Amur tiger they study in the Russian Far East and across the border into China. In the last five years, 10,000 snares have been removed from China alone—an astounding feat.

Dr. Dale Miquelle, director of WCS Russia, with a photo of a huge Amur Tiger.

But it takes more than individual studies to save tigers. It requires international cooperation and financial support of conservation programs.

Michael Cline and Tom Kaplan (founder of Panthera), became deeply involved in conservation initiatives because of their relationship with Alan. As very successful entrepreneurs, both were drawn to Alan’s passionate ability to get things done. Alan has created protected areas in every place he’s ever done research, it is literally his “no B.S”., get-the-job-done attitude they (and I) truly admire. As savvy businessmen, these men decided to  remove the bureaucratic road blocks that can hamper the ability of large conservation organizations to react quickly and easily to new information—or crises—by creating their own programs and organization.

Sometime back, Alan was dubbed the “Indiana Jones of Zoology” by The New York Times, which is kind of funny as another good friend and a mentor of mine was once nicknamed the “Indiana Jones of Photography”—National Geographic photographer Michael “Nick” Nichols.

The bottom line is that in order to protect the natural world we live in we need greater understanding and better cooperation. Humans compete with many wild animals—creatures that can’t speak for or protect themselves,. The people that study tigers, many of whom are present at this meeting, and the people who support their research and help brainstorm innovative conservation initiatives, are giving tigers a voice—and more importantly—a chance.

Leopard caught on the second night of testing the new camera trap prototype. Notice most of his tail is missing!

Sorry everybody that I have been absent from the blog for a while. Gabe and I finally recovered from our mysterious illnesses but then I lost my satellite internet for a couple of weeks, and as the project winds down we've been putting in even longer hours than usual.

In the last month we've been spending a lot of time covering village areas on the periphery of the park. As important as the animals are the people who live with them.

On the southern border of Kaziranga sits the Kabi Anglong hills, an area that is one of the largest remaining forest blocks in Asia. It is a safe haven for wild animals that flee Kaziranga during monsoon flooding in July which can submerge most of the park from 1-5 days.

In these hills live the Karbi people, a number of different factions that have been relentlessly fighting for their own autonomous region. In essence it is a very dangerous region where outsiders are definitely not welcome, and violence ebbs and flows. Hence it has been incredibly difficult for me to get permission to enter the area. If not for the indispensable help of Kazi's Western Range Officer, P.K. Deka, we'd still be wondering how beautiful and exciting the Karbi hills really are.

A lot of people ask me questions about my encounters with wildlife, about the adventures and dangers. On this trip I’ve blogged about this a lot. But traveling abroad and working in the jungle, the creatures that cause us the most problems aren’t the big, beautiful animals—it’s the microscopic ones you don’t see that really get you.

A few days back, I woke up with “Delhi belly”, throwing up at 2 AM, stomach pains, legs and arms aching, fever. Luckily, this scourge coincided with three days of intense, thundering downpours, so we were only able to work part of each day—and I could rest up and hope to get better.

The next day, Gabe woke up in the middle of the night shivering uncontrollably, so cold that he put on a hat, gloves, layered himself in blankets. Even so, he couldn’t stop shaking for an hour. 102 fever.

We have no idea what we have.

Gabe in bed with fleece, hat and 2 pairs of gloves. It is hot tropical climate but he has the chills—bad. He has been up with fever and chills for 2 nights.

Photograph by Steve Winter

Up at 4 AM, into the park by 5:00. The cloudy, wet weather has persisted long beyond what is normal: a climatologist told us that this is the rainiest it’s been this time of year in a century. Today, an anemic sun barely broke through the haze and mist as we drove into the park. So we decided to go to check a trap we’d on a small island in the middle of a beel—a spot where otters sometimes pull out to eat a fish meal.

As we approached we saw that an animal had hit the trap—and had bent a ¾ inch bolt. When we checked the camera we found that a drooling water buffalo had come to investigate the alien box. So had an elephant, making good and unusual pictures. We repaired the damage, and headed off into the western part of the park where the largest animal groups sometimes congregate.

In the distance, we spotted a tiger laying in the road, and a herd of 15 elephants feeding upwind. After 20 minutes, the tiger rose, slinking towards the herd, and disappeared into the grass. The elephants drew into a tight circle around the young ones, trumpeting and stomping. The tiger returned to his resting spot briefly, then slipped back into a crouch, muscles tense, stalked back, and ran at them. The elephants held their ground, and the tiger gave up. End of excitement, but it was great to be in the right place at the right time. It can be frustrating shooting here, especially trying to document animal behavior other than feeding because you can’t be on foot, or wait in a blind—it’s too dangerous. My photos all have to come from camera traps, shot from the Jeep, or very occasionally—from elephant back. But we’ve identified the most promising areas, and circle through them day, after day—and sometimes our persistence pays off!

A tiger slinks through the grass near a herd of elephants.

Photograph by Steve Winter

"You can make many pictures, but you cannot make life." — Konwar

Here in Kaziranga, I need to show what it is like for the forest guards who patrol on elephant through the high grass and unexpectedly come upon a rhino. I also want to show the intimate view of the animal through both high grasses and amidst the newly-burned grasses with faces black from grazing. I knew this would be a dangerous picture to get—and that riding an elephant would be the only successful way.

Being atop an elephant is quite a restrictive way of shooting – always looking down on the animal you’re shooting, which takes away its power. From experience, I always try to place my camera traps low to shoot at eye level, or up at an animal. The other day I was laying on the ground photographing a big tusker elephant – this is a much better way of showing this majestic species as long as you can get up and away safely and quickly!

So, in this instance we mounted a clamp with a tripod head on a 13-foot long bamboo pole and put a camera on it. I used a radio receiver to trigger the camera. We had ourselves a “polecam” which would allow me to shoot from more of a “rhino’s-eye” view.

Our elephant, Gavvar, is a Ganesh (meaning single tusk) tusker. Back in February, when Doug Chadwick (the writer on the story), took part in an elephant census, Gavvar was chosen especially for him. This elephant is known to be fearless around rhinos, directed by a great mahout who Doug reported would instruct Gavvar to charge any rhino that posed a possible threat, frightening the troublemakers back to their grazing.

We headed off to the Difalumukh camp to stay for a few days; it's located deep in the far reaches of the park. I wanted to stay here because of its remote forest location and close proximity to many open beels (lakes surrounded by grassy areas where many animals graze), but also to be close to the forest guards and learn more about what it takes to protect this awesome place.

The guards have a hard, lonely, and dangerous life. Living with them gives me a more intimate view of their lives. One way to do this is by going on patrol with them as they survey their designated area of the park looking for poachers or otherwise unusual behavior.

On our first morning in camp, we set off at dawn in large canoes with three rifle-toting park guards, paddling through an estuary all the way to where it met up with the miles-wide Brahmaputra River. There we beached the boats and walked along the sandy shoreline. Around a bend in the river, we were confronted by a group of wild water buffalo – which the guards dispersed by grunting and waving their rifles. Then we moved into the dense, incredibly beautiful forest, where we came upon a beel with four rhino feeding. We watched the rhinos do what they do best, and I was partly disappointed but also very grateful that they paid no mind to our presence.

We met up with some guards from another camp who followed us back to our canoes as we made a big loop—but found no apparent signs of poachers. Back at camp they made a big midday meal for everyone, Assamese vegetables, rice—and “jungle greens.” Although it smelled good, I skipped it. Have been sick too many times in too many countries, so I’m really careful about what I ingest!

Wednesday was not the best of days. I woke up to find my wife Sharon was in the ER of a local hospital in terrible pain with a gall bladder attack.  The most difficult part of this job is the time you spend away from your family. I could never image my wife being in the hospital for two nights and me not being there with her. Luckily nothing like this has ever happened before.

I always need to be in contact with my wife and step-son. I actually call home almost everyday, just to talk about what is going on and to feel connected to her and her to me. It can be very tough on our families: natural history photographers sometimes can be in the field for up to two and a half months. The pressure of trying to get the best images of dangerous or elusive animals, often under challenging conditions, is difficult enough, but leaving the ones you love behind makes it so much harder. You might think that over the years this part would become easier but it never does. Satellite phones have saved my relationship! And here in India cell phones work all over the country (most of the time) and are relatively cheap to call the States. I can stay in touch and talk about everyday things that help us to understand what each of us are going through—and talk through what we are each working on. Sharon is a writer, so we often brainstorm on each other’s stories and have worked together on lots of projects.

We also had two very close calls on Wednesday that made it not the best of days.

Well, I’m back in Kaziranga! It’s great to be back in India, one of my favorite countries on Earth.

The adventure began almost immediately. Our first rhino encounter had the animal charging at us. I must admit that it took a couple of days to get used to this again. Our new jeep has roll bars, but no bars on the “cage” in the back where I work from, so psychologically it was a bit uncomfortable at first.

Although the forest guards here are incredibly dedicated and work 24/7 (I have never seen them sleep!), soon after I arrived, poachers killed another adult rhino. This is a tough park to guard, sandwiched between the Brahmaputra River on one side and a major roadway on the other, giving lots of access. There are a lot of rhinos within view of the road, so it’s not much of a challenge for poachers to scramble away with their prize. Also, the grasses are at their tallest this time of year, just before they’re burned back to keep the forest from encroaching. The 10- to15-foot elephant grass makes it easy to hide.

Hi everyone! It’s been way too long since my last post. I am finally back at home after a wild trip. For the last two weeks I have been glued to my chair in front of my computer editing all the images from the trip. This is giving me an opportunity to look back on this experience and analyze how it all came about. Learning from the shoot is one of the lessons we bring back with us.

I’m glad that I had such incredible luck in Kaziranga—and that the local tigers, elephants and rhinos were so enamored of my camera traps. I have become very passionate about this incredible place, and know that I’m on the right track with the story. What a privilege to spend time in that singular landscape, and to have the opportunity to capture and share images of Kaziranga and of my wildlife encounters with you all.

Every time we as photographers or writers walk out the door for National Geographic magazine we embark on a new adventure. But these incredible experiences carry a hefty responsibility—to the readers, to us and to the magazine’s Editor in Chief, Chris Johns, who gave us his trust that we will bring back National Geographic-quality images, regardless of the challenges we face in the field. But it always makes me a bit nervous—I’m always both excited and a bit apprehensive at the start of every story.