Europe’s birds now have a safe landing strip in Montenegro

Europe's birds now have a safe landing strip in Montenegro

Like these flamingos, more than half of Europe’s bird species are found in the salt flats of Ulcinj. The different water levels of the salt marshes are all potential landing strips, created by human labour.

(Louis Seiller)

With a radiant smile, Jovana Janjušević looks lovingly at the pools of water that surround her. The head of Montenegro’s Centre for Research and Protection of Birds (CZIP) is standing looking at dozens of pink flamingos as they probe the salt water with their bent beaks. “In recent years, I have cried so much for this salt marsh, but today it is a sea of pink,” says the young woman happily. “We feel so optimistic, especially when we think of all the obstacles we have had to overcome. We managed to protect this site when it seemed unthinkable. So anything is possible.”

Formerly owned by the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY), the Ulcinj saltworks almost paid the price of the explosion of mass tourism in this small Mediterranean country with its imposing mountain scenery. All along the Montenegrin coast, hotels and tourist developments have devastated the maritime coves and pine forests. In Ulcinj, a coastal town very close to the border with Albania, Zenepa Lika is a former elected member of the municipal council who fought against the plans to urbanise the salt marshes, notably by founding the environmental association Martin Schneider-Jacoby (MSJA).

“In 2007, it became clear why the salt marshes were privatised and to what end,” says the former architect. “Namely, to transform this area into building land. Their idea was actually to build an ‘eco-resort’ here, with golf courses and some small-scale salt production. But we knew very well that there could be no ‘small-scale salt production’ because the luxury guests of this hotel would have no desire to have any noise or real production. Plans to develop tourism, supported by the government of the time, coincided with the privatisation of the saltworks, then its bankruptcy in 2013, in some less than transparent financial operations.”

The Ulcinj saltworks, located in the Balkans just opposite Italy, on the Montenegrin border, sits in an exceptional natural triangle, between river, sea and mountains. The setting is particularly favourable for European biodiversity. Birds and reptiles, as well as plants and insects, flourish in this former lagoon, created by humans in the 1930s. Thanks to the work of the salt manufacturers, the birds find ‘board and lodging’ in the warm and shallow water of the salt marshes. In order to extract the salt, it is necessary to maintain stable water levels and different degrees of salinity in the water, by pumping the nearby seawater. The salt water flows into the different pools and brings with it a large quantity of plankton, crustaceans and small fish, perfect for the diet of the different species of birds. The constant water levels and the low presence of predators also favour reproduction.

Janjušević has been walking around the 1500 hectares of Ulcinj salt marshes for years, and always has her binoculars with her. “We are trying to calculate the number of birds that nest here, and use this place as a stopover in their migration,” she explains, observing a group of curly pelicans, a species considered vulnerable by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN).

“We compare it with the busiest airport in Europe, which is Heathrow in London and we have calculated that the salt marsh is 50 times more important for birds than Heathrow is for humans. We have counted more than 250 species here, which is half of all European bird species. And there are large numbers of them.”

The Ulcinj salt flats are one of the main stopovers for migration across the Adriatic, the third migration route for European birds that winter in Africa.

But after the salt harvests came to an end in 2013, these salt marshes lost their appeal for many species. The pinkish red colour that usually tints the water of some pools, due to the high salinity, has disappeared. “Unfortunately, the saltworks went bankrupt,” says Janjušević. “Salt is no longer produced at the moment, which is very damaging for all infrastructure, due to erosion, the collapse of dykes and canals and all the equipment. Now the birds are also threatened.”

The tragedy of the end of salt mining

After the staff were laid off, the salt marsh was no longer maintained and the balance of the different pools was upset. Some birds have deserted the site, no longer finding the usual water levels there. The number of white stilts, for example, a bird so typical of salt marshes, fell from 100 pairs in the early 1990s to just 50 in 2017.

Shaban Muça is one of those who most regrets the current state of the saltworks, which ceased operations in 2013. Near the main pump which is used to supply the marshes with salt water, this former employee is still working there, no longer to extract the ‘white gold’, but to protect the site. For him and his colleagues the closure of the business was nothing short of a tragedy.

In its heyday, from the 1950s to the 2000s, working in the solana, in the saltworks, was a source of pride in the region. Some 40,000 tonnes of salt were produced here each year, more than 60 per cent of Yugoslavia’s production.

“A completely natural salt of superior quality,” says Muça, nostalgically. With more than 400 employees, the salt marshes of Ulcinj were the economic heart of southern Montenegro.

“At that time, when the salt was being produced, there were perhaps even more birds,” recalls this imposing man. “Especially the flamingos because they are looking for certain layers of salt, the ones in which they find their food.”

Will there be a return to salt production? Muça still dares not believe it. Former employees have suffered greatly from speculation around the saltworks, their ‘second home’.

Yet today, defenders of the Ulcinj salt marsh can be optimistic. After 15 years of lobbying, led by NGOs and pressure from the European Union on the Montenegrin government, this “airport of the birds of Europe” was declared a natural park in June 2019. A decision which put an end to the plans for urbanisation and a gigantic luxury hotel.

Eco-tourism and sustainable development

To effectively restore the site, NGOs are counting, of course, on the resumption of salt production, but also on eco-tourism and the development of sustainable activities. And for this to work, they want to involve the people of Ulcinj in the protected area project. On the programme: training tourist guides, developing mud baths, promoting local crafts and the sale of natural products.

The prospect has given hope to Indira Tafa, whose olive oil is made according to traditional methods and from centuries-old olive trees. “There are few job opportunities for people like me in the region, very few,” says this mother in her fifties, whose husband was employed in the saltworks.

“I hope things will change, and that I will be able to work a bit more, while making my civic contribution to this park, to make things better.”

In Montenegro, the economic transition that followed the collapse of Yugoslavia has by no means benefitted everyone. The country is heavily indebted and mass tourism remains one of the main drivers of the economy, supported by the authorities. Initiatives which combine tourism, nature protection and the inclusion of the local population are rare.

In the salt marshes of Ulcinj, it will take a long time before the harmony that existed between birds and the work of humans is restored. But Janjušević believes in it. In recent months, the saltworks has reopened its doors: bird watchers and nature lovers come to rent the bikes brought by NGOs to visit the marshes. “When we started promoting the salt marsh, nobody came here. But today we have more than 500 visitors per month. We don’t want much more of course, but it shows that there is an interest in this site and that there are opportunities to develop these initiatives which can benefit and restore pride to local communities.”

Turning the Ulcinj salt marshes into the new Camargue of the Balkans is something Janjušević dreams of. Thanks to the support of international NGOs like EuroNatur and the Mava Foundation, the Ulcinj salt marshes could soon be listed as a Ramsar site, the main international treaty for the protection of wetlands. For the flamingos, as for the salt workers of Ulcinj, a better tomorrow is on the horizon.

This article has been translated from French.