Every monsoon season, in the misty hills of Darjeeling, in West Bengal, eastern India, the elusive Himalayan salamander emerges from beneath the forest floor.

The ancient amphibians (Tylototriton himalayanus) engage in a delicate dance, a mating ritual that lasts up to 90 minutes before they attach their eggs to semi-submerged vegetation, such as denseflower knotweed (Persicaria glabra). The survival of the next generation of salamanders is, however, increasingly at risk as their critical wetland habitats disappear, report contributors Subhrajit Sen and Soham Das for Mongabay.

According to Koushik Deuti of the Zoological Survey of India, the salamander’s future is tethered to small, shrinking water bodies, known locally as pokhris.

“Most of these small wetland areas have been converted due to excessive housing and tourism in the Darjeeling hills, and these wetlands have been drained and there is no water,” Deuti tells Mongabay. “So, this conservation of the Himalayan salamander is directly related to the conservation of these small wetlands.”

Beyond physical habitat loss, remaining ponds are contaminated by wastewater and detergents. Infrastructure also poses a direct physical threat: New roads frequently divide migration paths and salamanders are crushed by vehicles as they attempt to reach breeding sites. Nirmal Tamang, a resident of Namthing Pokhri, says locals have requested culverts to allow safe passage for the amphibians but none have been built so far.

India’s first salamander sanctuary, established in 1985, serves as a cautionary tale. Once a thriving habitat, officials built tourist infrastructure in the area which made it impossible for the salamanders to continue living there.

“Mistakenly, at that time they have cemented all this area,” Devesh Pandey, a divisional forest officer in Kurseong, Darjeeling, tells Mongabay. “Whenever there is a cementing effect, the hibernated salamander can’t come out … so all the salamander population has gone extinct from that area.”

Current assessments by Barkha Subba, a scientist with WWF-India, reveal a significant protection gap: Just 10% of salamander territory falls within officially protected areas. The remaining 90% sits on private land and tea estates, where conservation often competes with human plans and the development of new tourism infrastructure.

In response, the West Bengal Forest Department has started to restore habitat by clearing invasive weeds, digging new ponds and removing waste. There are also plans to formally protect three additional sites, Pokhritar, Namthing Pokhri  and Panch Pokhri, as dedicated salamander sanctuaries this year.

Watch the full video by Subhrajit Sen and Soham Das here.

Banner image of a salamander in Darjeeling, West Bengal, India. Image courtesy of Subhrajit Sen/Mongabay.

On July 15, gunfire erupted between armed groups near an Ebola Treatment Center (ETC) in Nyankunde (or Nyakunde), located 45 kilometers (28 miles) southwest of Bunia in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).

Following the fighting, medical personnel from the World Health Organization (WHO), Africa CDC and the NGO Samaritan’s Purse evacuated from Nyankunde, further slowing the Ebola response there. 

“There was an attack yesterday and there are frequent attacks, actually since the end of 2025. The armed conflict has intensified,” said Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, WHO director-general, during a press briefing the day after the attack.

Since May 2026, the DRC has been enduring its 17th Ebola outbreak. Although the Bundibugyo strain is not considered the deadliest Ebola variant, cases continue to rise rapidly. In just two months, the U.S. Center for Disease Control (CDC) recorded 2,124 cases and 828 deaths, making it the fastest-spreading Ebola outbreak on record.

The current outbreak is in a mining town populated by migrant workers that travel across the region, increasing spread of the disease. The area is also the site of ongoing armed conflict, which makes it difficult for aid workers to safely respond.

“Due to this chronic conflict and other factors, the community mistrust is also serious. I have been to Beni during the 2018-2020 outbreak. I have traveled there many times. But compared to this one, I think Beni is nothing. North Kivu was nothing,” Ghebreyesus said. “The difficult environment that makes the response really complicated.”

Dr. Desire Duabo, head of the Nyankunde health zone, told Mongabay that the exchange of gunfire began after the commander of the Patriotic and Integrationist Front of Congo (FPIC) militia and his bodyguards were killed by gunmen, who have not been identified, not far from the treatment center. Active since 2019, the FPIC is one of the many armed groups operating in the region.

“The situation has been extremely tense over the past two days. We are under a lot of stress. The patients have remained at the Ebola Treatment Center and are being cared for by our local staff,” Duabo, who remained on site, told Mongabay by phone. 

Describing the situation as unprecedented, he added: “All Ebola response activities [in the area] have been brought to a standstill. Contact tracing for confirmed cases has stopped, alerts can no longer be investigated, and we are no longer able to conduct safe and dignified burials. The situation needs to change.” It is unclear when or if humanitarian workers will return to the area.

Mongabay contacted WHO for further comment but didn’t receive a response by the time of publication. Despite the challenges, the agency’s head remained optimistic about eventually bringing the outbreak under control. “Even without approved vaccines and treatments, 377 people have recovered, showing that with early diagnosis and safe care, this disease can be survived and stopped,” Ghebreyesus said.

Banner image: Health workers transporting an Ebola patient to a treatment center. Image by Moses Sawasawa/Associated Press.

SOUTH KINGSTOWN, R.I. (AP) — A shorebird known for its sharp, orange bill and beady eyes is making a comeback in North America thanks to a yearslong conservation effort. The American Oystercatcher was nearly wiped out on the East Coast at the turn of the 20th century due to hunting and egg collecting. But the bird’s numbers have increased by 45% in North America since 2008. Much of the credit for this recovery goes to several nonprofits that raised $10 million. The money went into efforts to boost protections at the birds’ beach nesting sites, including limiting vehicle traffic and roping off beaches during breeding season.

By Michael Casey, Associated Press

Banner image: United States Fish and Wildlife Service Shorebird Monitor Allison Ruhl carries an adult oystercatcher at Trustom Pond National Wildlife Refuge in South Kingstown, R.I., June 19, 2026. Image by Jessica Hill, Associated Press

For the first time in 10 years, a critically endangered white-rumped vulture has been spotted in Cambodia’s Lomphat Wildlife Sanctuary. However, this conservation milestone is unfolding just as the sanctuary stares down new threats from mining operations and hydropower dams.

During a June 2026 census, surveyors recorded the white-rumped vulture (Gyps bengalensis) at a supplementary feeding station, known as a “vulture restaurant,” operated by the NGO NatureLife Cambodia. The census also confirmed the presence of five red-headed vultures (Sarcogyps calvus), including two juveniles — a sign of successful breeding in the sanctuary.

“The return of the white-rumped Vulture shows that our conservation efforts are making a difference by improving habitat conditions and ensuring reliable food source,” Bou Vorsak, CEO of NatureLife Cambodia, said as reported by local media.

Yet the sanctuary’s Veal Kambor Community Protected Area (CPA), a zone designed to balance local livelihoods with forest management, is simultaneously being dismantled by industrial interests. Mongabay previously reported that since 2020, the Cambodian government has granted at least five companies mining concessions in designated community-protected areas adjoining the Lomphat sanctuary.

Satellite imagery and on-the-ground reports indicate that firms such as CHHC Investment Co. have continued quarrying marble in conservation zones, despite licenses for the work reportedly expiring in 2022. Local residents were granted rights to manage these resources for 15 years, but have reported losing fallow rice fields and forest access with little to no compensation.

Beyond the quarries, an even larger threat looms: the proposed 376-megawatt Lower Srepok 3 hydropower dam in northeastern Cambodia. If the development advances, the resulting reservoir would flood a core zone of the sanctuary, submerge the Veal Kambor CPA, and inundate areas currently protected under a carbon credit REDD+ project, severely threatening this fragile ecosystem.

Beyond mining operations and hydropower dams, the 356,087-hectare sanctuary has long faced threats due to its relatively lowland forest being easily accessible to loggers and in the 2010s, the government awarded at least six land concessions inside the protected area spanning more than 47,500 hectares to rubber and palm oil plantations, accelerating the habitat degradation.

Banner image of a critically endangered white-rumped Vulture recorded in Lomphat Wildlife Sanctuary for the first time in 10 years, courtesy of Him Khunny/NatureLife Cambodia.

For much of the 20th century, Cuba’s sea turtles were treated as a fishery. Green turtles were taken for meat, and hawksbills for the patterned shell used in jewelry and ornaments. In the 1980s, legal fisheries landed an average of 836 metric tons a year. Research focused in part on how the catch might be sustained.

The catch was later reduced. From 1994, legal capture was confined to two traditional fishing communities, Nuevitas and Cocodrilo. Minimum sizes and quotas followed. By the time Cuba closed the fishery in 2008, the annual legal catch had fallen below 15 metric tons. A further regulation in 2011 prohibited the capture, use, or trade of sea turtles except for research and conservation.

Félix Guillermo Moncada Gavilán spent his career through much of this shift. The Cuban marine biologist, who died in Havana on June 28th, had worked for more than 40 years at the country’s Fisheries Research Center (Centro de Investigaciones Pesqueras). He led its sea turtle program and served as Cuba’s coordinator for WIDECAST, the regional conservation network.

He had entered turtle research, he once said, with more enthusiasm than certainty. He had little time to prepare and many demands to meet. None of that discouraged him. Colleagues recalled that any mention of marine turtles made him smile and begin explaining them.

His early work was closely tied to fisheries. As Cuba moved towards protection, he studied nesting grounds, migrations, population trends, illegal hunting, and accidental capture. He helped recommend the successive restrictions that preceded the indefinite ban. When describing the policy, he laid out the sequence plainly: first minimum capture sizes, then quotas, and finally a complete closure.

He also stressed that national rules could protect only part of a migratory animal’s range. A turtle might nest on one country’s beach and feed in the waters of another. Regional co-operation was therefore essential, he said. His tagging and monitoring work connected Cuban nesting populations with the wider Caribbean, while his role in WIDECAST linked Cuban researchers with colleagues elsewhere in the region.

Cuba’s turtle research expanded beyond the Fisheries Research Center during the 1990s and early 2000s. The University of Havana, protected-area authorities, volunteers, and other institutions joined the work. Moncada trained students and field workers, led workshops, and co-authored national assessments. A review of Cuban sea turtle research between 1994 and 2021 identified him as its most prolific author, with contributions to 40 of the 78 publications examined.

The ban did not stop all killing. Poaching continued, as did accidental capture in fishing gear. Enforcement varied among protected areas, and a black market still offered turtle meat and shell. Moncada’s later research examined those problems. His work had moved from regulating a legal catch to documenting what continued outside the law.

In later years he spent less time at the bow of a boat and more in an office. Yet the response described by colleagues had not changed. Someone would mention turtles, his face would brighten, and he would begin talking.

Banner image: Gavilán. Courtesy of CIP

The U.S. government has taken another definitive step toward launching a deep-sea mining industry, starting in the waters of American Samoa, despite public opposition.

On July 17, the Marine Minerals Administration (MMA), a new U.S. agency formed by merging the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management and the Bureau of Safety and Environmental Enforcement, announced intentions to hold a lease sale for seabed mining on Nov. 19 in Camarillo, California.

The MMA also stated that the proposed lease “does not guarantee that a lease sale will be held” or that “exploration or collection activities will occur should MMA move forward with a sale.” Still, opponents see the proposal as a major step toward commercial deep-sea mining — an industry that has drawn widespread criticism over its potential impacts on marine ecosystems.

If the lease sale moves forward, the proposal indicates that companies will be able to secure 20-year leases across nearly 127,500 square kilometers (approximately 49,000 square miles) of seabed in the ocean surrounding American Samoa, a U.S. territory in the Pacific. The minimum bid for each of the two lease areas will be $3 million, and royalties in year 11 of the lease will be $1.25 per acre and increase over time.

The lease sale itself won’t be open to the public, but will be live streamed, according to the announcement.

The MMA indicated that the governor of American Samoa will have 60 days to comment on the proposed lease sale.

“Advancing this notice is an important step toward building a secure domestic critical minerals supply chain, strengthening U.S. economic and national security, and ensuring America can compete and win in the 21st century,” Matt Giacona, the acting director of MMA, said in a statement.

The proposed mining area is adjacent to the Rose Atoll Marine National Monument, a marine protected area that serves as a nesting ground and refuge for many threatened and endangered species.

Critics accuse the U.S. government of disregarding the concerns of many American Samoans, as well as members of the broader public, who have voiced opposition to the proposal.

“Pacific people have made our position clear: we do not want deep sea mining in our waters,” Sabrina Suluai-Mahuka, founder of Finafinau Foundation, an environmental organization in American Samoa that opposes deep-sea mining, said in a statement. “Yet the Trump administration is forcing this industry on our communities — imposing decisions that could affect us permanently without consulting us. Our ocean is our home, our food, our culture, and our future, and we are calling on the Administration to stop this reckless lease sale before irreversible harm is done.”

The U.S. government led by President Donald Trump has also indicated that it intends to auction off blocks of the seabed for deep-sea mining in the waters of the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands, Alaska and Virginia.

Banner image: A deep-sea frogfish in the deep waters of National Marine Sanctuary of American Samoa. Image by NOAA Okeanos.