Taiwan Today

Kenting National Park, the unique sea­land preserve of the Republic of China, is actually the tip of the Hengchun Peninsula—the southernmost part of Taiwan Island and its only tropical-zone region. The peninsula’s pleasant, ocean-tempered climate is the origin of the name Hengchun (Eternal Spring) and, along with its sample rainful and diverse topography, among the reasons for an abundant, widely varied population of flora and fauna.

Birds of 184 species take advantage of both its open areas and dense forests; 204 kinds of butterflies flutter in numerous mini­-habitats; 27 kinds of reptiles and many spe­cies of small mammals scurry across fields and primitive forests. The 17,731 hectares of inland area includes such diverse features as picturesque hills and small lakes, thickets, prairie, and even a small desert, each with its own unique beauty.

The name’ Kenting’ derives from the Ching Dynasty’s recruitment, in 1879, of farmers to till the area-it literally means ‘plowman’.

The park, as the peninsula, is sur­rounded on three sides by water—the Pacific Ocean on the east, the Taiwan Strait to the west, and the Bashi Channel to the south.

Its 14,900 hectares of marine areas house several fancy worlds. The majestic coral coast is extraordinary by any standard. Shiny, white-sand beaches are superb for all sorts of seaside recreations. Offshore, a diversity of corals, shells, tropi­cal sea creatures, algae, seaweeds, and other forms of marine life literally dazzle the eyes of divers.

For tourists from the north, it is a pleas­ant ride generally southward through Heng-­chun County—green hills on the left, blue ocean on the right, and cotton clouds hanging above a foam-flecked sea. Indulging in the view and the fresh, salty air, the visitor is likely to overlook the matter-of-fact road­side sign which announces, National park boundary/Please drive with care. But he is hardly likely to miss the natural wonder­lands all about.

THE WESTERN SHORELINE

From Kueishan to Maopitou, like most of the park’s coastal areas, the ‘ground’ is risen coral reef. Ac­cording to geological research papers published by National Taiwan University, the coral tableland of the Hengchun Peninsula was a deep sea bottom millions of years ago. At an aver­age rate of 5 mm per year, it gradually rose above sea level, forming a landscape of rough, hilly terrain. The storms and pounding waves of the ages eroded the coral formations into the precipices and other picturesque shapes they take today. The rising movement continues, however, and the present scene is, in reality, but a fleeting phenomenon in an endless metamorphosis.

The offshore marine life and under­sea coral formations are no less fascinating. The submerged coral reefs have taken fantasy shapes, incorporating hillocks, grottos, arches, and ridges—habitats for countless marine plants, molluscs, crustaceans, and coral fish of all shapes and colors. Brilliant living corals of numerous species are also abundant, including the rare alcyonarian. Here, indeed, is one of the finest locales anywhere in the world for snorkeling and scuba diving.

Along the coastal highway are the remnants of vast sisal plantations. The sisal—source of hemp fibers—was brought over from Mexico in 1901. The tough fibers were long considered prime raw material for making rope and various heavy ship cables. In the early 20th Century, the golden age of sisal, it was widely cultivated here, bringing reputed fortunes to Hengchun plantation own­ers. There was a saying popular among them: “The threads pulled from the sisal build tall buildings”

The later discovery of nylon and plastics, and the production, then, of synthetic-fiber ropes resulted in preemp­tion of much of the market. The price for sisal (hemp) decreased so sharply that many farmers simply gave up cultivating the plant.

The industry declined, but the yucca-type plants grow on in many areas: desert-hardy, they require no human assistance. The park authorities are planning to build an exhibition hall here featuring the history of the sisal indus­try, and to re-open one of the few re­maining factories for sightseeing purposes.

Along to the southwest, Kuanshan, a coral tableland, is one of the park’s famous scenic formations. Some 30,000 years ago, this area was still at sea level; now rising almost 200 meters, it is a prime vantage point from which to view both the verdant Hengchun plain to the north and the blue expanse of the Bashi Channel to the south.

On the upper slope of a rise, an Earth God temple stands against the rugged coral. A few steps from the temple, a huge, helmet-shaped rock slants from the ground. Because of its awkward pose, forgotten residents of long ago named it Fei Lai Shi, the Fly-Here Stone): According to legend, it was blown here by a monster typhoon from its lost home in the far-away Philippines. According to un­-romantic geologists, the large boulder was merely exposed during the course of coral erosion.

On the evenings of clear days, Kuanshan is also an ideal place from which to observe the spectacular Kenting sunsets: A fiery ball rolls slowly to the west, its radiance staining both the great vault about it and the ocean beneath with an unbelievably rosy red. As the ball slowly approaches the horizon, its intense rosy color gradually gives way to a softer crimson. Then, just before the evening sun dips beneath the water line, it flashes a sudden brilliance too dazzling to focus upon. The radiance becomes a crimson ember, simmers a while, then gives way completely to the force of night. In rare instances, shortly before darkness fully clothes the earth, strange strands of light, blue and white, inter­mingle, momentary searchlights rising where the sun has set.

A little to the northeast of Kuanshan is beautiful Lungluan Lake. In warmer seasons of the year, it is delicate and tranquil. But with the autumn winds that whisk across its waters arrive large numbers of migratory birds from faraway Siberia, Japan, and the China mainland. Calling and napping, they replace the lake’s serenity with an immense vitality.

The 130-plus avian species include snipe, plovers, various kinds of wild ducks, and wild geese. Some stay here for the winter, playing across Lung­-luan’s sparkling surface; some, after a short stay, fly on to the Philippines. It is a particularly magnificent sight when thousands of the birds, flocking overhead, block the sun for a moment. Little wonder that the park authorities are now cultivating the area exclusively for bird-watching purposes.

At the southernmost point of the west coast is Maopitou (Cat’s Nose), Taiwan’s whimsical protrusion into the tropical ocean. Long ages of erosion have worn the coral here into unique shapes, many resembling specific animals or plants. The huge stone in the shape of a kitten, sprawling lazily toward the ocean, also serves as a boundary marker for the Taiwan Strait and the Bashi Channel.

The eroded topography here, in cer­tain cases, is as ruffled as the fringes of a woman’s skirt. Such fringed coral coasts are, incidentally, seen only in areas approaching the equator; Kenting National Park is the only location in Taiwan to boast such topography.

Climbing among Kenting’s gro­tesquely shaped coral formations offers the continual delights of exploration. Among the enticements is Nanhai Cave, opening under a steep cliff. Legend holds that around 100 years ago, when Hengchun was a domain of aborigines, several Dutchmen, drifting ashore here after their ship was wrecked in a storm, took shelter in the cave. Later, passing aborigines, came on them foraging and, surprised by their strange appearance and unable to communicate with them, assumed they were hostile. The Hollanders fled from the threatening aborigines, the legend says, and hid in the cave until they died of starvation.

In any case, generations after, local residents accidentally came upon the cave and discovered the bones. To show their respect, they brought sacrificial offerings in the belief that the spirits of the dead would bless them in return. The bones were removed by the park staff in 1984, and settled in a permanent resting place.

THE SOUTH BAY

Nearby Maopitou, another protru­sion of southmost Taiwan, Oluanpi, serves as a second prong embracing a specially popular park recreation area-South Bay, and its two protected locales, Banana Bay and Sand Island.

The waters of South Bay are incredibly blue; in fact, Blue Bay was its original name. The wrinkled surface of the bay sparkles under the bright sun—a great blue gown, decorated with thousands of diamonds.

Protected by the Maopitou and Oluanpi ‘horns’, the waters here are calm year round; the bay is noted for swimming, sailing, and sunbathing. Fish­ing is also popular-lone anglers on the coral outcrops, pole in hand, backdrop local commercial fishermen, hauling in netfuls of shiny fish. From October to March during the northeastern monsoon season, a unique activity of local fishermen is interesting to observe: they catch needlefish utilizing air-filled plastic bags.

Kenting Beach, a long stretch of white, sandy South Bay shore, and its environs are a prime nesting place of tourists. Modern hotels, low-priced hostels, motels, and restaurants are at hand. Here, too, is the Kenting Youth Activity Center, a semi-village hostel architected in the traditional Fukien style, and itself a major tourism attraction.

Several great, interestingly shaped rocks stand out along the beach. Frog Rock appears ready to jump into the sea. Dense shrubbery grows around the rock; the bay area before it is frequented by young couples. Local youths dub the area ‘Romance Harbor.’

A few miles from Frog Rock is eyecatching Sail Rock, resembling a sailboat just off to sea. Observed closer up, many people are amused to find the rock forming a profile of former U.S. President Richard Nixon; his mouth is just dipping in the water, and his famous nose is easily recognized.

To midway in the 20th Century, there were vast stretches of tropical coastal forest from South Bay to Oluanpi. The remnants of this forest are now considered precious for academic research, among other reasons, because they grow from risen coral reef. Many of the trees derive from seeds drifted ashore from the Philippines and distant Indo-Malay regions.

The Japanese occupation author­ities, in 1933, designated the forest here as a ‘natural monument’. But after World War II, the war-impoverished local population, increasing rapidly, in­tensified logging and cultivation of the area the (sisal plantations), and the forest was reduced to the present limited area at Banana Bay.

A common trait of many tropical coastal plants is large-sized, wax-coated fruit which can float on the ocean surface for a long time without salt-water damage. The chessboard-feet seeds of Barringtonia asiatica are famous among them. The trees’ lovely flowers blossom at night and wither away before the first rays of morning sunshine. To the aborigines of old, the flowers were a mystery, and they called it the ‘ghost tree’. The Yami tribesmen of Orchid Island used to lay their dead beneath a ghost tree in the daylight hours, and hurry away themselves before sunset for fear of evil spirits. Now the tree’s beauti­ful pink flowers with their needle-like petals are a special attraction for tourists, who come stumbling eagerly into the nighttime forest with flashlights, trying to find a tree or two.

Sand Island, at first sight, offers just another fine Kenting area beach. The sand here may seem, after a bit of concentration, a bit more golden than elsewhere—but that would not seem sufficient reason for the islet being a special, environmentally protected area. The real reason goes deeper: The beach here has been completely built up by millennial deposits of eroded coral and shell bits-the commonly known ‘shell sand.’ — The park authorities com­missioned Dr. Chen Ming-pen, an oceanic-geography specialist at National Taiwan University, to conduct research into its basic nature. Dr. Chen took samples, and after careful study, turned out a detailed report illustrated with highly magnified photographs. Each grain of shell sand, magnified by a factor of 200, presents a unique picture. Before Sand Island was officially protected, the sand was exploited for building materials. Other exploiters, recognizing greater value, took out whole loads of large, intact bits of coral and shell to make jewelry and other decorative items for export, then mostly to Hawaii and Japan.

‘Oluanpi’ is a transliteration from the language of the local Taiwan aborigines; oluan means ‘sail’ (the nearby Sail Rock), and pi means ‘nose’ (its protruding shape).

Oluanpi is actually most famous for its lighthouse, which was built in 1882 during the Ching Dynasty—one of the few fortified lighthouses in the world. It was twice devastated in fighting, but, indispensable, was rebuilt each time.

The tower is 21.4 meters high. The bright beacon inside may be seen from 20 nautical miles away. Surrounded on three sides by sea, it helps guide the course of numerous ocean freighters; in bad weather, it is the only visible indication of shallow waters and land for ships struggling in the seething seas.

Approximately five-and-a-half miles south of the lighthouse, the Seven Stars, a line of great coral outcroppings, mark the southernmost edge of the island.

To the west of the lighthouse, a newly developed park area offers tourists 240 different species of plants, abundant animal life, and highly varied topograph­ic formations of limestone and coral. Hiking trails crisscross between trees and rocks—a natural labyrinth. Tourists who come here in September enjoy an additional spectacle—great nocks of brown shrikes soaring above, migrating south from Siberia and the Chinese mainland.

During the construction work on the hiking trails, in April 1981, workmen unearthed stone-chip utensils here. Dr. Lee Kuang-chou of the anthropology department of National Taiwan University was commissioned to do associated research. He found the tools to be prehistoric artifacts, over 5,000 years old. This was the second find of artifacts from a prehistoric pre-pottery culture in Taiwan-after the discovery of Changpin culture artifacts in Taitung, eastern Taiwan. The Oluanpi artifacts are to be exhibited at the site along with archaeological and anthropological illustrations that demonstrate the linkage be­tween Taiwan and the Chinese mainland.

THE KENTlNG HINTERLAND

All who visit Kenting marvel at a huge rock shape rising abruptly above undulating, mild slopes. Big Stone Slab can be seen from almost every corner of the park, its sharply defined profile varying drastically from different angles. Its 318 meters end in jagged tops far above the steep cliffs which constitute its periphery.

Viewed from the west side of the park, it looks like a flat stone slab, and so its name. But from the direction of Oluanpi, it is a sharp, pointed blade, accounting for an other name, Big Pointed Mountain. A little distance north, two much smaller, pointed rocks front a rounded, lower mound, to be known collectively as Small Pointed Mountain or (owing to a resemblance to an ox’s horns) Stone Ox Mountain.

Both Big and Small Pointed Moun­tain are of special geological interest. Their composition, like that of the Frog Stone, differs from the surrounding mudstone and coral, so all are also known as the ‘foreign rocks’. They seem planted there by an unknown force and, indeed, their origin remains a puzzle to geologists: Some surmise they were shaken from the Central Range by vio­lent earth crust disturbances and deposit­ed all the way down here; others conjec­ture that they belong to original Kenting layers, and remained behind, harder composites, as surrounding softer deposits were eroded away.

Approaching these mounts is a ver­dant pasturage of 1146 hectares on which nocks of sheep and herds of cattle graze in bucolic splendor. With two mountains, azure sky, and painted white clouds as background, the meadows are all the more lovely. The present ranch here, derived from one established in 1904, is administered by the Hengchun Livestock Experimental Center of the Taiwan Provincial Government. Here are bred the famous Santa Gertrudis cattle stock from Texas and the only nock of black-belly sheep in Southeast Asia. The ranch experiments not only in sheep and cattle breeding, but livestock medicine and the propagation of forage grasses. The first test tube cattle in Taiwan were fostered here.

Further along, a traditional Chinese archway announces the Kenting Forest Recreation Area, off to one side of the main paved road. Passing this gate, along a winding road, the visitor is lead among densely planted beefwood (casuarina equisetifolia), hoop pine (araucaria), and bougainvillea-the latter, in blooming season, flares of dazzling crimson. Nearby Big Pointed Mountain is always in sight here, its shape changing with each turn of the road.

The Forest Recreation Area, at approximately 300 meters above sea level, covers 435 hectares—2.5 percent of the total land area of the park.

Unusual rock formations, showing the sedimentary remains of shells, algae, and once-living corals, spot the whole area, which lay at sea bottom tens of thousands of years ago. More than 1,200 species of plants grow here, and the Botanical Gardens within are a living museum for professional (and amateur) studies.

Stone-paved hiking trails wind through the gardens’ trees and flowers; dozens of species of resident birds twitter among the dense foliage. The Taiwan bulbul’s song is notably sweet—different tunes for varied moods. The tree pie’s call is raucous, but the bird is beau­tiful when it flies, fanned tail trailing. Butterflies of miscellaneous colors flutter erratically around, delighting the eye. The trails crisscross and twist so, that it is hard to keep track of directions, even with a route map.

The official route map notes 17 spe­cial sites, among them: A Glimpse of Sky and First Gorge, both narrow chasms formed amid raised coral badlands; the Stalagmite, Fairy, and Silver Dragon Caves, all formed as dripping, underground waters minutely shifted calcium carbonate deposits over the millenia; all the caves have a special, mysterious beauty. Climbing to the top of the Observation Tower, 27 meters in height, opens a general view of the entire park—a green blanket of forest below, the blue sparkle of the ocean beyond. Among the numerous living forms in both habitats, the sightseer now realizes that he is just another—a tiny particle on earth.

Sheting Nature Park, adjacent to the Kenting Forest Recreation Area, also has winding trails, though comparatively uncomplicated, among abundant flora, fauna, limestone caves, and rather extraordinary coral formations. As the hiker begins to tire from his trip among the trees and rocks, a verdant meadow suddenly appears round a turn. Relaxing now on the soft grass, the visitor contemplates a scene of green verdure extending all the way downhill, to the forests below; beyond, the Pacific spreads its indigo carpet.

A pavillion on the highest hill in Sheting Nature Park is a special place to watch the sunrise. The pavillion itself and the long stairway leading to it have been built by wedging shaped pieces of Chinese cypress together, following an ancient Chinese architectural technique.

The tenacity of life is inspiring here: On every coral rock, plants sprout from small crevices, their roots, winding and penetrating, manage to catch hold of the thinnest deposits of soil. Some even stretch roots down, all the way round the rock, to grasp the earth.

The weather conditions here can make life hard for such plants. In winter, the strong northeastern monsoon howls up from the Pacific Ocean to sweep the hills of the Hengchun Peninsula. Wind velocities can reach 20 meters per second.

Local residents know these storms as lo shan feng (the wind falling from the mountains). The force is evident from the trees, slanting uniformly to the southwest. To survive, the trees in this region squat as low as possible to avoid the wind, and many of the plants growing on the coral take various bonsai shapes-a ‘potted landscape’ formed by the hand of Nature.

THE EASTERN SHORE

The jagged-rock peaks break the clouds; And stunning waves split against the shore, Thousands of swirling, snow-white foam specks.

- Meditating on History at Chih Pi by Su Shih (1036-1101)

These lines of nearly 2000 years ago, by a famous Tang Dynasty poet, vividly recall the Kenting scene at Dragon Pit. At the southern end of the eastern shore, Dragon Pit is an amalgam of collapsed cliffs from the anciently elevat­ed coral reef. Though similar formations are to be seen in most of the park’s coast­ al regions, none is so complete and majestic as here.

Gigantic formations have been carved into gullies, hanging cliffs, pitfalls, pillars, and other neatly curious shapes by the ages of Nature. During the northeastern monsoon season, huge waves surge over the formations, break­ing into millions of tiny water-pearls which sparkle in seven colors under a shiny sun. On gloomy days, water vapor covers the entire area in gray mists; the rocks loom through in various attitudes—mysterious Titans.

The living environment here is so harsh that very few species of plants are able to survive. Oddly enough, those that do are not found in regions with milder living conditions and, indeed, are rarely enough seen elsewhere in Taiwan or in the world. Their tenacity is truly amazing. In summer, barren stretches are immediately carpeted with lush green. And even in bad, wintry weather, the bright ulva seaweeds still cling on, overgrowing coral rocks.

The magnificent Dragon Pit has been designated a special ecological protection area to avoid irretrievable de­struction to a masterpiece, wrought by Nature.

While the pastures of Kenting Ranch lie in tranquility at the foot of Big Pointed Mountain, the small Kenting Prairie is backdropped by hanging cliffs and a boundless Pacific Ocean.

It lies north of the Dragon Pit, along the highway, confined by the northeastern monsoons to grasses, low bushes, and such small, mobile animals as birds and reptiles. A diversity of skylarks, rare species elsewhere, sing here in melodi­ous voice. In winter, flocks of migratory charadius dominicus enliven the scene.

In the Chinese classical novel, Pil­grims to the West, in a sand river on which not even a feather floats, abides a monster that lives on human blood and flesh. Along the eastern shore of Kenting National Park, there is also a sand river, and it is sometimes quite spooky.

A little north of the Prairie, the view changes drastically. The continuous risen coral-reef coast takes a short break here, giving way to a mixture of sand and red soil. In winter, the northeastern monsoon blows the sand upward to the tableland, forming a sand river, 1500 meters long, known as the wind-blown sand. In summer, seasonal torrents from passing storms wash the sand downhill again, forming a veritable sand cascade. The highway here has cut short the natu­ral flow of the sand, and Nature, recognizing man, deviates a little; the sand river turns from its original course and moves on.

In winter, when the winds howl, the air here is a yellow sandy mist. Faces tingle from the whipping sand. Now, the dried, curling stems of creeping sand plants roll over the ground. There are spooks about.

Chialeshui, on the coast at Manchou Township, in addition to coral formations, features slanting layers of sandstone. Since the hardness indexes of the coral and sandstone layers vary, their erosion by water and weather is at different rates. As a result, the rock landscape here is especially colorful. The numerous sculpted rocks are grouped and named after various shapes: seafrog rocks, rabbit rocks, ball stones, and butcher block, honeycomb, and checker-board rock formations.

The offshore life here is profuse, as in all marine areas of the park. Shells and swarms of colorful tropical fish flourish in coral crevices, while larger migratory fish casually ‘stroll’ just offshore. Stand­ing amid strangely shaped rocks, fishing pole in hand, gives double the pleasure here—delightful surroundings and a basketful of fresh fish.

About 12 km north of Chialeshui, the little village of Liteh is a famous resting place for the migratory gray-faced buzzard (butastur indicus). The birds come this way on their way south around the middle of October, and again, on their way home, the next spring. It is a special experience to see the flocks of buzzards soaring elegantly in the clear, blue sky.

Far off in the northeastern corner of the park, Nanjen Mountain, over 500 meters in height and 50 sq km in area, offers almost uncut virgin forest.

The mountain creates several dis­tinct environments which vary in climate and humidity as well as topography. In a back valley, sheltered from the wind, is a tropical rain forest and, on the wind­ward side, a monsoon forest. In areas of the foothills, present meadows are the results of previous cultivation. In various wetlands, aquatic and semi-aquatic plants flourish.

The miscellaneous flora, from aquatic plants-among the earliest-develop­ing of earth flora-to grasses, shrubs, and, finally, large trees, makes the region an ideal natural classroom for the study of natural adaptation and evolution: In an area of convergence be­tween the tropical and subtropical zones, it boasts a reputed 2,200 types of plants, some of which are rare, native species found nowhere else in the world. More than 1000 species of vascular plants grow here, 1/4 of the total for Taiwan, including rare varieties of the native Taiwanese orchid, garcinia, and actinostcachys digitata.

Another rare plant, the branching schizaea digitata, according to written records, had previously been found only seven times in the history of world botany before 1985: five times in the Ryukyus Archipelago, once in New Guinea, and once in Taiwan.

In 1939, when Taiwan was under Japanese occupation, the Japanese botanist Matuda found the first specimen of the plant here. It was treated as a treasure and is now carefully preserved in the specimen house of the botany depart­ment of Kyoto University in Japan.

At the end of 1985, two Chinese botanists exploring Nanjen Mountain in Kenting National Park came on a plant unknown to them, growing on a hilltop. For dozens of years, Dr. Kuo Cheng­-meng, professor of botany at National Taiwan University, had nurtured the hope of locating the rare plant again. And when the two presented their unkown specimen to Dr. Kuo for examination, he immediately recognized it and was immediately ecstatic. The ecstasy soon turned to worry. Three months after the plant was found, moun­tain roads were extended across the hill, with signal damage to the adjacent environment. Dr. Kuo subsequently issued urgent appeals to the concerned authorities to allow time for transplant­ing of the remaining plants and a sped-up investigation into the ecology of the rare species.

Animal life also abounds in the area. According to as-yet-incomplete investigations, the mountain houses at least 65 kinds of birds, 50-plus species of butterflies, 12 kinds of reptiles, and numerous mammals, many of which are rare, native species approaching extinc­tion in other Taiwan areas.

The living things in such a virgin area are in ecological harmony with each other as well as ·with the overall environment. In order to keep it that way, the park authorities did not hesitate to designate Nanjen Mountain as an ecologically protected area, preserving it for educational and research purposes.

Deep within Nanjen’s forests, Nanjen Lake meets each dawn, a thin, misty haze wafting over its surface, to the melodies and chatter of mountain birds. Its fresh water nourishes both fish and lakeside plants. And from October to March every year, it provides sanctu­ary for migratory waterfowl—teal, tufted ducks, pin tails, and shovelers among them.

In one of the mountain valleys, a dark chasm reaches deep underground. On its walls, thousands of bats cling. When startled, they fly wildly about, uttering a horrible chorus of squeaky sounds.

Some 100 years ago, dozens of deserted, low-roofed flagstone houses were discovered in Nanjen’s forest, half­-way up the mountain, by settlers from a nearby village. The thin flagstones, which seemed to come from no nearby source, and the hidden location aroused trepidation among the villagers. They came to believe that the houses had belonged to a mysterious, dark-skinned pygmy people, who, though vanished, still haunted the place. Anyone so bold as to take a flagstone would find that someone in his family had suddenly fallen ill, and would recover only if the stone were returned, safe and sound. The legend tantalized archaeologists, who proceeded to disprove it.

The Kenting master plan includes improved facilities to accommodate tourists: more frequent shuttle buses to tour the entire area; more trails leading to, as yet, near-inaccessible sites; more and better glass-bottomed boats and mini-submarines to enable tourists to enjoy the undersea park. All present and future facilities are to be brought, as much as possible, into harmonious accord with the surrounding scenes—trails paved with such materials as stones and timbers, trash cans blending with the coral, parking lots limited to screened-off places.

However, protecting the wildlife and keeping the park as an eternal, living natural ‘museum’ for children’s educa­tion and for scientific study are the primary goals. The designation of ecologi­cally protected areas is the primary tool towards these purposes.

A vast portion of Sheting Nature Park has been designated a breeding ground for the near-extinct, native spoiled-deer. Bird-hunting, a traditional local sport during the season of migra­tory birds, is being controlled; and bird­-watching is now the most popular local activity instead.

Indeed, the educational role of the park is heavily emphasized. Short-term seminars are regularly staged for biology teachers, for example, to show them how to make use of the park as living illustrations for areas of their textbooks.

The students who come here see how the plants struggle to live on coral, how the creeping plants on the wind­-blown sand manage to endure the windy Winter, how, even in the most difficult environment, little buds of adapted plants poke their heads out boldly. They see here the harmony of nature, and come to respect other forms of life, to understand the geological history of earth, and to treasure earth’s resources.