The scenery changes again as the journey reaches the coastline. Calm, shallow waters stretch out ahead, with sunlight filtering down to reveal seagrass gently swaying beneath the surface. Standing at the shore, I can see these underwater meadows moving softly with the current, almost like a slow, rhythmic dance.
These seagrass beds act as nurseries for fish, stabilise the seabed, and help absorb carbon from the atmosphere. They are also a primary food source for one of the region’s more elusive inhabitants, the dugong.
Upon closer inspection, subtle signs begin to appear within the seagrass. Patches are cropped shorter than the rest, forming faint trails across the seabed. These are feeding marks, left behind as dugongs move slowly along, grazing as they go.
Dugongs feed almost entirely on seagrass, using their bristled snouts to uproot whole plants rather than just grazing the tips. Often referred to as “sea cows”, these cylindrical mammals can weigh up to a tonne, spending hours each day feeding and consuming around 70 to 90 pounds (30 to 40 kg) of seagrass.
Their life cycle is equally slow. Dugongs have a gestation period of around 13 to 15 months and usually give birth to a single calf. The young stay close to their mother, often swimming alongside or just above her, and can remain dependent for up to two years. While some can begin reproducing from around 6 years of age, others may not reach maturity until 15 to 17 years. Combined with the fact that females may give birth only once every few years, often between three and five, this long interval places real pressure on their population, slowing recovery if numbers decline.
Their survival is closely tied to the health of these coastal habitats. Coastal development, pollution, and sediment runoff can reduce water clarity, limiting the sunlight that seagrass needs to grow. Damage from boat anchors and trawling can also tear up these meadows, leaving less for them to feed on.
There are also more direct risks. Dugongs can be struck by boats in shallow waters or become accidentally entangled in fishing gear such as nets. Because they move slowly and surface regularly to breathe, they are particularly vulnerable to these interactions. Though it is illegal in most countries, they are still hunted for their meat, oil, and hides. In several Southeast Asian cultures, their tears are believed to have magical properties, sometimes described as a love potion, and dugongs are even thought to be reincarnated sea people. Some body parts are also believed to have medicinal value. In reality, these “tears” are a mucus-like secretion that helps protect their eyes from saltwater.
To protect the species and the seagrass they rely on, efforts are becoming more targeted and practical. In parts of Borneo, alternative livelihoods such as beekeeping are being encouraged to reduce reliance on fishing practices that damage seagrass. Youth are also being trained to record sightings and report strandings. Along the coastline, marine protected areas continue to expand, with nearly 30 million hectares established to date, while mangroves are being restored, indirectly supporting dugong habitats. Another area of focus is reducing bycatch by phasing out gill nets and large tidal fish traps that can accidentally trap dugongs.
Lingering at the shore’s
edge, my eyes are fixed on the seagrass, hoping that, even for a moment, I
might spot one moving through the meadow.
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