WITNESS - Dragon's Blood in a place like nowhere on earth

By Alistair Lyon, Special Correspondent

SOCOTRA, Yemen (Reuters) - When the goat leapt on the tableto snatch our breakfast, we realized the dawn plane frommainland Yemen had flown us to an island of surprises.

But ill-mannered goats proved the least of the marvels tounfold during a week on Socotra, a clutch of Arabian Seaislands off the Horn of Africa that nature has blessed -- andcursed with frequent droughts and gales that howl five months ayear.

Socotra has been marooned in mid-ocean since Africa andArabia were wrenched apart 20 million years ago.

Even today, the landscape has a prehistoric feel. Glimpsinga dinosaur browsing in the bushes wouldn't be a total surprise.

"You really want to work?" our disbelieving guide had askedmy journalist wife and I during the short drive from Socotra'stiny airport -- which incongruously boasts Yemen's longestrunway -- to Hadibo, the island's unprepossessing capital.

Our insistence on interviewing goatherds, fishermen andconservation workers eventually convinced Shaiya Salem of ourworthy intentions. But to be honest, these succumbed at timesto the jolting beauty of a place like nowhere else on earth.

After abandoning our breakfast of beans, bread and cheesetriangles to the goats and raddled Egyptian vultures that werepoised to scavenge whatever was left, we went exploring withShaiya.

Camping out over the next few days, as we discovered caves,lagoons, deserted beaches, sand dunes blown up hillsides,unfamiliar birds, and trees that were downright weird, delightwas tempered with foreboding that all this might be in peril.

Tourism, clumsy development and hordes of goats alreadythreaten Socotra's fragile biodiversity.

But the fierce winds that pound the coast from May toSeptember might prove its best defense against developers'dreams of resorts that would wreck it for good.

"If the nature goes, the island will be dead," said AdeebHadid, 53, showing us around his nursery near Hadibo where hegrows endangered trees for planting later in the mountains.

"The Socotra fig is closest to extinction," Hadid said,referring to a swollen-trunked tree that manages to grow onbare cliffs where it can escape those predatory goats.

SCENT OF ARABIA

On our first walk, a stiff climb from the coast to astalagmite-filled cave 300 meters above the sea, the woodsechoed with birdsong from laughing doves and Socotra starlings.

Then, for a waft of Arabia's past, we sniffed the perfumedgum oozing from a cut scored into the bark of a frankincensetree. This sticky stuff on our fingers was the temple treasurethat put Socotra on the trade map of the ancient world.

Far stranger trees lay in wait when we drove into themountains, winding up impossibly steep rocky tracks that testedour four-wheel drive vehicle and our nerves.

There were Socotran "desert roses" sporting pink blossoms,succulent leaves and inflated trunks, looking like obese oldladies in floral hats. Adapted to store water through Socotra'sdroughts, they are poisonous enough to deter even the goats.

A third of all 900 plant species on Socotra occur onlyhere. Most striking is the Dragon's Blood tree, with itslattice of knotty branches topped by a canopy of spiky greenleaves.

Its local name is Dam al-Akhawain, or blood of twobrothers. Legend traces the origin of the tree and its redresin to blood shed during a mortal fight between a dragon andan elephant.

"My wife uses it for make-up. It's also good if your goatsget an eye infection," advised Noh Malha, a grizzled herdsmanpouring sweet, goatsmilk tea from a battered white flaskoutside his stone hut in a forest of Dragon's Blood trees.

CULTURAL DIVIDE

All tourism on Socotra is supposed to be "eco-tourism"mindful of conservation and local culture -- although skimpilyclad Italian visitors we encountered seemed oblivious to anydresscode sensitivities in this conservative Muslim society.

There are no hotels, just a few modest guest houses inHadibo. Campsites are in stunning mountain or beach locations,but facilities are basic, with some lacking showers or toilets.

Like most tourists, we were assigned an escort of a guide,a driver and a cook to take the pain out of camping. Theycleaned up scrupulously after every stop, but plastic bottlesand cans left by others have begun to defile once-pristinespots.

After snorkeling over coral in the turquoise waters of DiHamari, a marine protected area, we drove at sunset to Dilisha,a beach where conservationists have halted a planned hotel.

Out to sea, flocks of black Socotra cormorants hurtled overwave-tops to distant cliffs -- a captivating vision to remindus why this relatively unspoiled sanctuary deserves protection.

(Editing by Sara Ledwith)