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Le Khac Quyen
Nearly ten years since I began my journey in wildlife conservation, I have been fortunate to encounter some of the world’s most enigmatic species of primates.
Few people have had the opportunity to see or photograph the Tonkin Snub-nosed Monkey, which is only found in the tropical rainforests of Vietnam. With its distinctive nose and thick pink lips set against a pale blue face, this species possesses a captivating appearance.
The journey to Khau Ca
Photographing the Tonkin Snub-nosed Monkey is a dream for nature photographers. It requires an expensive and arduous journey and can only succeed with a stroke of luck. The only place to photograph this species is the pristine Khau Ca Forest, located in the limestone mountains of Du Gia National Park on the Dong Van Karst Plateau. Thanks to its rugged terrain and unique climate, Khau Ca has become the last refuge for the largest population of Tonkin Snub-nosed Monkeys in Vietnam, estimated at around 120 individuals.
To reach Khau Ca, my companions and I set off before dawn. After a 1.5-hour drive from Ha Giang city, our car reached an impassible stream, from which we began a nearly three-hour trek to our campsite.
The first challenge was crossing two fast-flowing streams during the rainy season. After removing my shoes and shouldering my nearly 20-kilogram backpack filled with equipment, I stepped into the stream. The icy water numbed my lower half while my upper half was drenched in sweat from carrying the heavy load and battling the strong current. Upon reaching the far riverbank it felt like half the weight of the world fell off my shoulders. Before I could catch my breath, a steep trail stretched ahead for several hundred meters, leaving us in awe. Standing at the foot of this incline, I could see the summit soaring high above. After an exhausting climb up this long slope, with sweat stinging our eyes and salt filling our mouths, we finally arrived at a hut where we could rest.
Set on a hillside, this stilt house glowed gold in the morning light. We were welcomed by the research assistants who lived there, patrolling the forest daily to protect the primates and help to collect data. Warm cups of tea and bowls of instant noodles with pickled bamboo shoots and wild chili peppers provided a much-needed boost for our team before we discussed our detailed plans.
Challenging weather
After days of preparation and anticipation, we envisioned a beautiful morning but Khau Ca had other plans: it was not yet time. The golden dawn quickly dissipated and we were enveloped by fog. After several hours of waiting for the weather to clear, rain began to fall. Our first day’s plans were postponed. Covered in moss, the damp forest floor and sharp limestone outcrops seemed to form an insurmountable barrier. In the rain, no one could venture into the forest as it was too easy to slip, even for seasoned trekkers.
We spent two cold dreary days watching the rain fall. With no electricity or mobile signal, the long days tempted us to give up. This would be my first visit to this area without stepping foot in the forest. On the third morning, waking to heavy rain, we decided to descend the mountain. More than an hour later, the downpour suddenly stopped. It was as if the sky had released all its gloom, revealing unexpectedly bright morning sunshine. If it stayed sunny, the water would recede enough within three hours for us to enter the forest.
With over three kilometers of forest trail devoid of phone signal, our team rested on a cliff overlooking the valley. By 1 PM, while the sky remained clear, very little light penetrated the dense canopy of ancient ironwood trees. Monkeys typically sleep and rest around noon, making little noise, meaning it was unlikely that we’d find them. We decided to rest for an hour to regain our strength before venturing deeper into the forest.
An unexpected encounter
As I dozed off, a few drops of water landed on my face, startling me awake. My first thought was that the rain had restarted. But no, bright sunlight still filtered through the leaves. Something felt different as beams of light danced through the foliage… I quickly grabbed my binoculars to peer through the first layer of trees. A patch of creamy white fur appeared before me, sending chills down my spine. There it was! Although I couldn’t see its entire body, I was certain that a Tonkin Snub-nosed Monkey had appeared. Nature has crafted these creatures with remarkable camouflage patterns. Their creamy white bellies blend into the light when viewed from below while their black backs merge with the dark forest when seen from above—making them difficult for predators to spot.
I hastily withdrew my camera and crept behind a rock to climb higher. Crawling while searching for an optimal angle for my shot took careful consideration. Each step on the rocky surface brought me closer to capturing a clear image at eye level. After about ten minutes of silent movement, I reached the right height and needed an opening through which to aim my camera and begin taking shots.
A gentle breeze swayed the branches of the trees. Even after focusing the lens, I had to time my shots for when the wind parted the leaves. Nearly 15 minutes passed and the langurs began to slowly move. Perhaps they were ready to move on after lunch, or else they’d become accustomed to the people nearby. This was the moment I had been waiting for!
I was tense, my eyes scanning an open area in the direction of the langurs’ movement. I constantly adjusted my camera and captured the moments they appeared on the branches. Suddenly, “Chut…oac…” – the sound of the lead monkey broke the silence. All the monkeys paused for a moment and turned their eyes toward my hiding place.
Even though I was concealed behind a rock, exposing only the lens and half of my head covered with a camouflage cloth, I had been spotted. A few immature monkeys stretched their necks to stare at me and began to repeatedly make “chut…oac… chut…oac…” sounds. Some females peered through the foliage, glanced back, and turned away. The monkeys did not panic. Their movements were orderly. The females and young ones went first, followed by the immature males, while the lead male climbed a high branch to act as a lookout. By this time, my team had also awakened, but no one dared to move. Heart pounding, I continued shooting, my fingers continuously pressing the shutter and my eyes darting around to ensure I missed no changes. I almost forgot to breathe. A few minutes passed, and once again, a loud call came from the lead male. They all stopped looking at me, turned away, and left, not forgetting to make more “chut…oac…” sounds. A few hundred meters away, they continued to emit warning sounds.
Following the langurs over this treacherous terrain was impossible. I sat back and began to catch my breath. Looking down at my team below, everyone was eagerly smiling up at me. Despite being dizzy with exhaustion, I smiled back, a few scratches from the rocks now stinging and bleeding. My happiness overwhelmed everything else. The awaited moment had finally arrived. After three days of waiting, my journey to Khau Ca had a fulfilling conclusion. As the afternoon progressed, it began to rain again, and my team returned to camp to celebrate our achievement.
It has been over 20 years since this group of monkeys was first discovered, then with about 60 individuals. Today, the group has nearly doubled in size. Many of the research assistants have worked to protect these primates since the beginning and remain dedicated to their task. Every photo I was lucky to capture owes a great deal to them – the guardians of this forest’s treasures!
