Valeria Margherita Mosca, cultural anthropologist and Montura Ambassador, explored the Coghinas River, witnessing the delicate balance of biodiversity in this Sardinian landscape.

Paddling the Coghinas River Between Biodiversity and Transformation

My name is Valeria Margherita Mosca, and I am an anthropologist specializing in ethnobotany, wildlife conservation, and partnership studies. An anthropologist with my background is, above all, a connoisseur of ecosystems, a careful observer who acts with respect and ethics in natural environments. My work has taught me to refine the ability to read the health of an ecosystem, to sense its energy, and to understand its needs. This is why, recently, I chose to travel and explore the Coghinas River by canoe - one of the most important waterways in Sardinia, not only for its length and flow, but also for the complex ecological dynamics that define it.

‎
‎
Geography and Hydrology of the Coghinas

At 115 km in length, the Coghinas is the third longest river in Sardinia. It originates in the Goceano region, among the granite hills of Buddusò, and flows northeast through Gallura and Anglona before emptying into the Gulf of Asinara near Valledoria. Its hydrographic basin is wide and varied, encompassing mountainous, hilly, and flat areas, with a surface of about 2,700 km². Along its course, it encounters two major artificial reservoirs, including the Muzzone dam, which have profoundly altered its water regime, making it partly regulated. The terminal stretch, which forms a vast coastal wetland, represents one of the most significant ecosystems in northern Sardinia and has been recognized as a Ramsar site for its international importance in the protection of wetland habitats.

Ecosystems and Biodiversity

From an ecological perspective, the Coghinas hosts a mosaic of habitats ranging from riparian woodlands to brackish ponds. The upper stretches of the river are characterized by banks lined with poplars, willows, and black alders, while in the middle and lower sections reeds and sedges dominate. The river serves as an essential ecological corridor for birdlife, with more than 180 bird species recorded, including greater flamingos, grey herons, kingfishers, and black-winged stilts. This makes it a key stop along Euro-African migratory routes.

In terms of flora, alongside native Mediterranean vegetation, several alien species are present, some of which are invasive. Although problematic for ecological balance, these species can become a resource through practices of conservative foraging.



Humans and the River: A Changing Relationship

Historically, the Coghinas has played a fundamental role for local communities. In ancient times, it was a primary source of livelihood through fishing and cultivation in the floodplains. During the Middle Ages and up to the 19th century, the surrounding marshlands were seen as unhealthy and dangerous due to malaria, yet they also provided materials and resources for daily life. The 20th century marked a turning point with land reclamation, the construction of dams, and the development of tourism. These interventions reduced flooding and made water available for irrigation and energy, but they also altered the river’s natural dynamics, leading to a decline in biodiversity and changes in the balance of the delta and coastal lagoons.

«To truly experience the river, I chose to travel it by canoe.»

The Coghinas by Canoe: Safety and Perception

To truly experience the river, I chose to travel it by canoe. This practice, beyond bringing you closer to the water in a respectful and silent way, allows you to observe up close details that escape those who remain on the shore. Paddling along the river, you can feel the currents, notice changes in vegetation, and sense the areas where biodiversity is richest. However, river navigation requires caution: it is essential to know the stretch to be covered and to monitor weather conditions, since a sudden increase in flow or a storm can quickly change safety levels. During my journey, the weather shifted twice: at first, the sky was heavy and light rain fell, giving the landscape an introspective, almost melancholic atmosphere. Later, toward evening, the clouds dissolved, revealing a golden sunset light that transformed the river into a living mirror, with shimmering reflections and trees glowing like vegetal flames.



Invasive Species and Potential Uses

The Coghinas hosts several invasive alien species whose spread has affected the ecological balance of the river and surrounding wetlands. Water hyacinth (Eichhornia crassipes), native to South America, tends to form dense floating mats that suffocate fish populations and reduce dissolved oxygen. While it poses a threat, in some parts of the world it is used as an energy biomass or compost. Equally widespread is giant reed (Arundo donax), introduced in ancient times and now extremely invasive: it replaces native reed beds and alters water dynamics. Yet its young shoots are edible, and its stalks can be used in light construction, roofing, and even for making musical instruments. In drier areas, often also along the banks, prickly pear (Opuntia ficus-indica) thrives. Today it is perceived as an integral part of the Sardinian landscape, though it is originally from Mexico. Its fruits are a valuable food, the young pads can be cooked as a vegetable, and its seeds yield a sought-after, nutritious oil. Lastly, one also finds black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia), introduced from North America. It rapidly colonizes open spaces, altering riparian woodlands. Here too, nature offers compensation: its flowers are fragrant and edible, excellent in infusions or fritters, and its durable wood is widely used in carpentry and construction. These species, if harvested with awareness, become examples of how conservative foraging can both help contain harmful populations and at the same time transform them into a resource.

«The river remains for us, yet we no longer remain for it.»

Meeting Giovanni, a Coghinas Fisherman

During a stop, I met Giovanni, a local fisherman. His hands, marked by nets and time, already told his story. He spoke to me of the Coghinas of the past, when fish were abundant and families lived in symbiosis with the river. He recounted children learning to swim among the reeds, evenings spent rowing to the river’s mouth, and the sense of the river as a lifelong companion. With a touch of melancholy, he described the present: native fish declining, young people more distant, and an ecosystem fragmented by invasive species and pollution. “The river is still here for us, but we are no longer here for it,” he said with disarming simplicity—a phrase that captures the contemporary disconnection between humans and nature.

‎

The Coghinas River is both a vital resource and a fragile ecosystem. Its scenic beauty, which enchants those who traverse it in silence, conceals complex ecological dynamics, often compromised by human intervention and the spread of alien species. As an ethnobotanist, I believe that conservative foraging can be one of many practical responses: collecting invasive species, transforming them into food or useful materials, and thereby reducing their impact on habitats. A simple gesture, yet capable of restoring a form of alliance between humans and the river. The Coghinas, with its generosity and fragility, reminds us that nature is never merely a backdrop to admire—it is a living organism that demands relationship, care, and respect.