I have just got back from Rwanda where we had an incredible time with the Mountain Gorillas, huge powerful beast that could pop a human scull with one hand, but that are gentle and tolerant of us sitting amongst them.
In Kenya I visited Nakuru National Park and Samburu Reserve for the first time. Nakuru is relatively small and surrounds one of the rift valley soda lakes. The town is right on the park boundary, which could spoil the atmosphere a little but we were camping on the south side away from the town and hardly knew it was there. With the lake and flamingos it has a similar feel to Ngorongoro Crater, but both Black and Whiter Rhino a common. We saw three huge Tom leopards in 24 hours, in fact this must be one of the best places around for leopard, and it was not too crowded. Rothschild’s giraffe can be seen here and the game densities to bee seen.
Samburu was a little disappointing as the local authorities have allowed too many lodges to be built. It is however a great place to see the Gravy’s Zebra, Beisa Oryx (a first for me) among others. I also saw several new life birds.
A real treat was the journey by helicopter from Samburu Reserve to Loisaba (a beautiful private ranch and hotel). This was a joy ride over the incredible open savannah, and then up and over beautiful sky island mountains rising out of the semi desert that are high enough to be covered with evergreen forest including rare cycads. At Loisaba we had a chance to get completely immature on four wheeler ATV’s, ramping off termiteria, throwing them sideways and generally mucking about.
Loisaba is a picturesque little lodge with stunning vies over the Uaso Nyiro Valley. The group I was with enjoyed there cocktails as did I, to the extent that I ended up pulling the door of the bar late one night when the barman had snuck of to bed and locked it. Needless to say I am now de-toxing before the next safari, which will be more subdued I hope.
We all then flew to Kigali (capital of Rwanda) via Nairobi to clear customs and immigration. The Nairobi Kigali leg was just over an hour in a DC9 charter with plenty of space to stretch out.
From Kigali it was a couple of hours drive through the land of a thousand hills to the rather basic lodge. The next two days where all about Gorilla tracking in the morning and much needed rest in the afternoons. A few of us elected to go to one of the furthest Gorilla troops on the last day and hiked for about six hours all in all including an incredible 45 min with the gorilla family for company. On both days the Gorillas decided when we had, had enough of their company, both experiences ending with charges and contact. The local guides where brave enough, and confident enough, to step in front of the beasts and take the full impact of the encounter. I have amazing footage on Video of all of this including one of the charges. God knows when I will get to edit it all.
I loved the Gorilla experience and was very impressed with Rwanda. I would also recommend Loisaba and the Helicopter safari.
Showing posts with label Safari Vignette. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Safari Vignette. Show all posts
Friday, January 4, 2008
That Day
I can now retire a happy camper. Not that I intend to. I enjoy my job too much to go that far just yet, however the experience I had on the second of March 2005 will never happen again, and that I guess is what makes guiding walks in the African wilds of Loliondo such a trip.
Sheryl and Steve Radcliffe, Jane Nettesheim, Philip Durkee, John Maeki (Maasai) and I set of a bit late from camp, as happens on the first morning in Alamana. We drove in an open safari car across the short grass plains to the base of Irkumeishin hill. As we were running a bit late I decided to start walking from the middle of the ridge in a northerly direction along the ridge.
It was hellish windy, clear and cool. On the windward side hats were blowing off and it was hard to steady binoculars as the whistling air buffeted us, but the leeward side was calmer with a breeze in the opposite direction up the slope into the vacuum created by the strong constant easterly.
The wind worked for us all morning drowning out our heavy footsteps over the uneven six hundred million year old rocky slopes of the Irkumeishin ridge. However all the birds where hanging on to swinging twigs in the middle of the Three Hook Thorn and not budging, so ornithologicaly it was a bit dry. We had an exciting time trying to creep up on a large heard if Zebra and had good sightings of Klipspringer, Chandlers Mountain Reedbuck and Eland.
With the cool weather we walked further along the ridge, by about a mile, than we had ever managed to previously. When we came up to the last little valley before the northern end of the ridge, where the old buffalo bulls always lurk, I asked if everybody was ready to continue and complete the ridge, or if we should call it a day and use the valley to walk down to the car. Sebastian and Bill Streby, who where patiently waiting to collect us, where content on the plains bellow watching Cheetah. After some discussion where nobody wanted to poop the party it was realized that we were not the sort to give up near the end and would have to complete the ridge. That was a very lucky realization.
Guiding walks in areas where dangerous wildlife is common, is as you can imagine, a stressed occupation. One must exude a confident pose in order not to let on just how out of control the situation is. So ensuring that the naive, relaxed clientele remain just that, and are not too jumpy to enjoy the magnificent vistas. It is vital to remain a little on edge, with senses on hyper alert, because the bush law dictates, the minute your guard is down something will happen, good or bad.
We where in a place where John and I have encountered Lion on several occasions, suffice to say, I was looking carefully around. The northern end of the Irkumeishin ridge offers a stunning view. The ridge itself divides into two little rocky parallel ridges, separated by a fifteen foot deep depression, that slope at about forty five degrees down to the flat open wooded valley below. There are a few scattered Acacia, Buffalo Thorn, Lannea and Commiphora bushes about and as I walked around one of these a pale tawny coconut rose out of the grass in front of me, or as Steve Radcliffe put it,
“Leaning into the 40kph headwinds near the end of a six mile game hike, we crested the Irkumeishin ridge. I was immediately perplexed by the presence of a huge golden object 35 meters in front of our party. Being tired and accustomed to seeing rock outcrops of varying colors, it took me a second to realize that this hairy and faceless mass was not a rock and that in the deafening headwinds, we had inadvertently placed ourselves in the dangerous position of surprising something very mean.
Just as it dawned on me this was the largest male lion we had seen on the trip, Philip quickly turned to us with his hand in a “claw” position and motioned for us to move backwards slowly to the slight rise behind us. When we reached 50 or 60 meters distance, (I sat down to enjoy the moment and steady my hands, just for a few seconds, at this point), we stopped to enjoy the moment as the lion was intent on the valley below. We then edged closer below the opposite ridge and came up still a little higher than the lion and across a small dip.
Philip said quietly, “We are going to let him know we are here get ready for a photo.”
My immediate thought was” Now why the hell would we do that?”
But it became clear that we needed to show him who the dominant “animal” was in this locale. As we held our breath in this surreal situation, Philip yelled “Hey you. Yeah I mean you!” The lion, which must have been sleeping and totally unaware of our presence, turned his huge maned-head quickly and with a startled, wide-eyed glare, decided that he just didn’t have the advantage at the moment. He bolted from his rocky perch and headed down the ridge. As if that wasn’t enough excitement, when we approached his resting site seconds later, still looking for him, an unseen female companion exploded upwards from the brush looking away from us for the danger. She was very close, just a few feet away. Philip shouted again, raising his rifle, and she in a single fluid movement, glared at Philip, and then disappeared down the hillside. We had not seen her until then.
The cool professionalism displayed by Philip and John, his Maasai partner, really never made us feel threatened. But then we were new and naïve to the African bush.”
I doubt that I will be in a position to experience lion again with the terrain advantage in my favor to the extent that retreat was his only option, let alone have a picture to remind me. He does appear to have a black nose showing him to be mature and is in his prime. I did not really get to look at him with much appreciation at the time, and I now can. I was concentrating on keeping his attention on me, hence the vocal greeting. I was concerned too that we would have had to walk a mile back along the ridge to the nearest reasonable way down, that little valley that has an old bachelor buffalo or two in it. I looked at Jon who was looking at me and suggested we would have to move the lion and he agreed.
Past experience has shown me that backing away from a lion can serve to bolster lions confidence, encouraging them co consider you as a gastronomical option.
Sheryl and Steve Radcliffe, Jane Nettesheim, Philip Durkee, John Maeki (Maasai) and I set of a bit late from camp, as happens on the first morning in Alamana. We drove in an open safari car across the short grass plains to the base of Irkumeishin hill. As we were running a bit late I decided to start walking from the middle of the ridge in a northerly direction along the ridge.
It was hellish windy, clear and cool. On the windward side hats were blowing off and it was hard to steady binoculars as the whistling air buffeted us, but the leeward side was calmer with a breeze in the opposite direction up the slope into the vacuum created by the strong constant easterly.
The wind worked for us all morning drowning out our heavy footsteps over the uneven six hundred million year old rocky slopes of the Irkumeishin ridge. However all the birds where hanging on to swinging twigs in the middle of the Three Hook Thorn and not budging, so ornithologicaly it was a bit dry. We had an exciting time trying to creep up on a large heard if Zebra and had good sightings of Klipspringer, Chandlers Mountain Reedbuck and Eland.
With the cool weather we walked further along the ridge, by about a mile, than we had ever managed to previously. When we came up to the last little valley before the northern end of the ridge, where the old buffalo bulls always lurk, I asked if everybody was ready to continue and complete the ridge, or if we should call it a day and use the valley to walk down to the car. Sebastian and Bill Streby, who where patiently waiting to collect us, where content on the plains bellow watching Cheetah. After some discussion where nobody wanted to poop the party it was realized that we were not the sort to give up near the end and would have to complete the ridge. That was a very lucky realization.
Guiding walks in areas where dangerous wildlife is common, is as you can imagine, a stressed occupation. One must exude a confident pose in order not to let on just how out of control the situation is. So ensuring that the naive, relaxed clientele remain just that, and are not too jumpy to enjoy the magnificent vistas. It is vital to remain a little on edge, with senses on hyper alert, because the bush law dictates, the minute your guard is down something will happen, good or bad.
We where in a place where John and I have encountered Lion on several occasions, suffice to say, I was looking carefully around. The northern end of the Irkumeishin ridge offers a stunning view. The ridge itself divides into two little rocky parallel ridges, separated by a fifteen foot deep depression, that slope at about forty five degrees down to the flat open wooded valley below. There are a few scattered Acacia, Buffalo Thorn, Lannea and Commiphora bushes about and as I walked around one of these a pale tawny coconut rose out of the grass in front of me, or as Steve Radcliffe put it,
“Leaning into the 40kph headwinds near the end of a six mile game hike, we crested the Irkumeishin ridge. I was immediately perplexed by the presence of a huge golden object 35 meters in front of our party. Being tired and accustomed to seeing rock outcrops of varying colors, it took me a second to realize that this hairy and faceless mass was not a rock and that in the deafening headwinds, we had inadvertently placed ourselves in the dangerous position of surprising something very mean.
Just as it dawned on me this was the largest male lion we had seen on the trip, Philip quickly turned to us with his hand in a “claw” position and motioned for us to move backwards slowly to the slight rise behind us. When we reached 50 or 60 meters distance, (I sat down to enjoy the moment and steady my hands, just for a few seconds, at this point), we stopped to enjoy the moment as the lion was intent on the valley below. We then edged closer below the opposite ridge and came up still a little higher than the lion and across a small dip.
Philip said quietly, “We are going to let him know we are here get ready for a photo.”
My immediate thought was” Now why the hell would we do that?”
But it became clear that we needed to show him who the dominant “animal” was in this locale. As we held our breath in this surreal situation, Philip yelled “Hey you. Yeah I mean you!” The lion, which must have been sleeping and totally unaware of our presence, turned his huge maned-head quickly and with a startled, wide-eyed glare, decided that he just didn’t have the advantage at the moment. He bolted from his rocky perch and headed down the ridge. As if that wasn’t enough excitement, when we approached his resting site seconds later, still looking for him, an unseen female companion exploded upwards from the brush looking away from us for the danger. She was very close, just a few feet away. Philip shouted again, raising his rifle, and she in a single fluid movement, glared at Philip, and then disappeared down the hillside. We had not seen her until then.
The cool professionalism displayed by Philip and John, his Maasai partner, really never made us feel threatened. But then we were new and naïve to the African bush.”
I doubt that I will be in a position to experience lion again with the terrain advantage in my favor to the extent that retreat was his only option, let alone have a picture to remind me. He does appear to have a black nose showing him to be mature and is in his prime. I did not really get to look at him with much appreciation at the time, and I now can. I was concentrating on keeping his attention on me, hence the vocal greeting. I was concerned too that we would have had to walk a mile back along the ridge to the nearest reasonable way down, that little valley that has an old bachelor buffalo or two in it. I looked at Jon who was looking at me and suggested we would have to move the lion and he agreed.
Past experience has shown me that backing away from a lion can serve to bolster lions confidence, encouraging them co consider you as a gastronomical option.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Stereotypes generally fit
Loliondo 2005
Stereotypes generally fit, and this group were no exception. They loved to talk, and especially to laugh, with a cigarette or cigar in one hand and a glass of whine in the other. However they were happy to be up before dawn and were champing at the bit after a very light breakfast with lots of caffeine. I learned that one must shake hands as you great each other for the first time in the day every morning. On both the mornings we went walking we were out of camp and on our way before the sun had risen. A rear treat for me. It is defiantly true, wherever you are on safari, that the best game viewing is at the break of day as activity switches over from nocturnal to diurnal and herbivores have heads down grazing allowing easier approach.
Our first walk took us five kilometres along the Grumeschin ridge with the sweeping view over much of the Serengeti to the west and the Loliondo high plateau to the east. A resent burn, now green, was teaming with grazers in the distance. We disturbed east African mountain reedbuck and glassed herds of eland, Thomson’s and Grant’s gazelle, impala, wildebeest, topi, zebra and hartebeest on the plains below.
As the Thompson Gazelle and Wildebeest had gathered into small groups and were moving north out of the Alaroi area. The tommy in nervous fleety tight little bunches with the striking side stripes pointing neatly forward. John, the local Maasai assistant guide, and I decided we should go south West to the Mollelyan kopjies for the second walk.
A few days previously we had walked the same route through the sculpted kopjies neatly arraigned in parkland, but had seen little game. We did hear the distant rolling thunder of hooves as a large heard of buffalo caught our wind and stormed off unseen. We had also found several thousand wildebeest in the vicinity however there were only a couple of small-bedraggled looking herds of stragglers left, heading west with the sun. The area is drying out very fast now and despite several attempts at cloud building, the Lake Victoria weather system has failed to reach Loliondo.
It was a chilsom ride in the open pickup with everybody huddled under red chequered maasai blankets. Striding away from the car at pace to warm our limbs we soon saw a dark heard of buff in the distance across the flood plain where the Alamana riverrine fig and fever trees run parallel to another large nameless korongo (seasonal river ditch). As we crossed the nameless Korongo a bull chased another from the herd at full steam. The ejected bull moseyed in our direction ambling about as we watched safe behind a huge grey fever tree log. As he came down wind of us it was as if he had walked into a wall. His massive bulk froze as he inhaled our disturbing odour.
After he had galloped off, stopping twice to turn and seek us out, we marched on along the game trails through tall seeding red oats grass towards Mollolyan. The buff herd ambled off across the Alamana to be met with later, I hoped, when we would swing into the wind and have cover. From a distance I saw two buffalo bulls grazing up against one of the kopjies. I guessed there would be more about and swung further west in order to circle in on the kopjies and korongo convergence into the wind.
Soon more and more buffalo came into view. And then more again. We stalked in and onto a small mound of granite boulders. As we came to the top strewn about in the scene before us were hundreds on hundreds of grazing buffalo. We were surrounded by them as a bull and cow wandered, oblivious to our presence, behind the mound a few yards bellow. A few were lying down chewing their cud but most were wandering about munching grass. Every now and then one would low, the deep grumbling call, or grunt and run from a real or imagined threat. We later decided on a thousand and a half in different groups spread through the square kilometre in front of us. I was beaming with pleasure.
John hissed and pointed, grinning too. On a massive solid granite mound five hundred meters away were five lion laying about surveying the scene with little alarm. A huge male stared across the gap at us, unconcerned. It was beautiful and I was having a good day.
Once everybody was over the shock and pictured out we had tea and coffee. As we did some of the herds were starting to get our cent and those seventy yards away becoming aware of our presents, especially after a very angry little dik dik buck whistled at is shrilly. They were also smelling lion across the way and trotting about nervously. There were hundreds of fat red calves shadowing the cows.
The lions suddenly became interested in something on the far side of their kopjie and slunk of out of view leaving one lioness to keep a disinterested eye on us. The buffalo gradually trotted south and we came down from the mound to continue around the wind and the kopjies, instead of wandering through the kopjies and around all those blind corners as I had planed. We kept clear of the thick cover but had a nervous walk through the thicket lined Alamana. A single straggler buffalo bull strolled across our path thirty meters ahead and lay down in a thicket. He ran off as we gave him wide berth and then as we walked past the nearest kopjie the sentry lioness turned and fled at fifty meters through the whistling thorn. There were cubs about to and my “time to go” was received with a little releaf.
We crossed back over the Alamana and called the car, to drive back to camp, having seen enough to fill the day.
Stereotypes generally fit, and this group were no exception. They loved to talk, and especially to laugh, with a cigarette or cigar in one hand and a glass of whine in the other. However they were happy to be up before dawn and were champing at the bit after a very light breakfast with lots of caffeine. I learned that one must shake hands as you great each other for the first time in the day every morning. On both the mornings we went walking we were out of camp and on our way before the sun had risen. A rear treat for me. It is defiantly true, wherever you are on safari, that the best game viewing is at the break of day as activity switches over from nocturnal to diurnal and herbivores have heads down grazing allowing easier approach.
Our first walk took us five kilometres along the Grumeschin ridge with the sweeping view over much of the Serengeti to the west and the Loliondo high plateau to the east. A resent burn, now green, was teaming with grazers in the distance. We disturbed east African mountain reedbuck and glassed herds of eland, Thomson’s and Grant’s gazelle, impala, wildebeest, topi, zebra and hartebeest on the plains below.
As the Thompson Gazelle and Wildebeest had gathered into small groups and were moving north out of the Alaroi area. The tommy in nervous fleety tight little bunches with the striking side stripes pointing neatly forward. John, the local Maasai assistant guide, and I decided we should go south West to the Mollelyan kopjies for the second walk.
A few days previously we had walked the same route through the sculpted kopjies neatly arraigned in parkland, but had seen little game. We did hear the distant rolling thunder of hooves as a large heard of buffalo caught our wind and stormed off unseen. We had also found several thousand wildebeest in the vicinity however there were only a couple of small-bedraggled looking herds of stragglers left, heading west with the sun. The area is drying out very fast now and despite several attempts at cloud building, the Lake Victoria weather system has failed to reach Loliondo.
It was a chilsom ride in the open pickup with everybody huddled under red chequered maasai blankets. Striding away from the car at pace to warm our limbs we soon saw a dark heard of buff in the distance across the flood plain where the Alamana riverrine fig and fever trees run parallel to another large nameless korongo (seasonal river ditch). As we crossed the nameless Korongo a bull chased another from the herd at full steam. The ejected bull moseyed in our direction ambling about as we watched safe behind a huge grey fever tree log. As he came down wind of us it was as if he had walked into a wall. His massive bulk froze as he inhaled our disturbing odour.
After he had galloped off, stopping twice to turn and seek us out, we marched on along the game trails through tall seeding red oats grass towards Mollolyan. The buff herd ambled off across the Alamana to be met with later, I hoped, when we would swing into the wind and have cover. From a distance I saw two buffalo bulls grazing up against one of the kopjies. I guessed there would be more about and swung further west in order to circle in on the kopjies and korongo convergence into the wind.
Soon more and more buffalo came into view. And then more again. We stalked in and onto a small mound of granite boulders. As we came to the top strewn about in the scene before us were hundreds on hundreds of grazing buffalo. We were surrounded by them as a bull and cow wandered, oblivious to our presence, behind the mound a few yards bellow. A few were lying down chewing their cud but most were wandering about munching grass. Every now and then one would low, the deep grumbling call, or grunt and run from a real or imagined threat. We later decided on a thousand and a half in different groups spread through the square kilometre in front of us. I was beaming with pleasure.
John hissed and pointed, grinning too. On a massive solid granite mound five hundred meters away were five lion laying about surveying the scene with little alarm. A huge male stared across the gap at us, unconcerned. It was beautiful and I was having a good day.
Once everybody was over the shock and pictured out we had tea and coffee. As we did some of the herds were starting to get our cent and those seventy yards away becoming aware of our presents, especially after a very angry little dik dik buck whistled at is shrilly. They were also smelling lion across the way and trotting about nervously. There were hundreds of fat red calves shadowing the cows.
The lions suddenly became interested in something on the far side of their kopjie and slunk of out of view leaving one lioness to keep a disinterested eye on us. The buffalo gradually trotted south and we came down from the mound to continue around the wind and the kopjies, instead of wandering through the kopjies and around all those blind corners as I had planed. We kept clear of the thick cover but had a nervous walk through the thicket lined Alamana. A single straggler buffalo bull strolled across our path thirty meters ahead and lay down in a thicket. He ran off as we gave him wide berth and then as we walked past the nearest kopjie the sentry lioness turned and fled at fifty meters through the whistling thorn. There were cubs about to and my “time to go” was received with a little releaf.
We crossed back over the Alamana and called the car, to drive back to camp, having seen enough to fill the day.
Primate Safari 2004
The year continues to be a dry one in spite of warnings of El Nino lurking. Tarangire is always good in the dry years as it becomes the only water sauce available to all of the wildlife for the vast Maasai Steppe and an important refuge from hunters and poachers alike as the hunting season is on.
On my last visit a few weeks ago we saw lion unable to resist a band of banded mongooses that had caught their attention by scuttling through the grass up wind. The lions staked and the mongooses bunched up chattering and fled for the nearest termite mound.
Two lionesses launched an assault and each caught a very indignant and rapidly chattering banded. Now the lionesses considered their actions and options as confusion and embarrassment dawned. As they lifted the offending paw and relaxed their extended claws one of the lionesses then gently pushed the stunned mongoose down the termite vent it had almost reached before.
These were very tame lion as where the elephant and the four leopards we saw in the park. One young bull elephant completely immersed himself into a pull and lulled about floundering. A bit like a very large rotund granny trying to get in and out of one of those hot jet Jacuzzi things.
Katavi too is very dry as thousands of hippos are forced again into several muddy methane bubbling sewers. They hardly have the energy to move and stare with a sinister gleam in their eye daring closer approach.
The lions along the Chada River feed at will on buffalo forced to hang about ranging a day’s walk from the remaining springs. We saw them comically again as seven of the pride ignored hundreds of buffalo to spend time bulling a not entirely defenceless 13ft crocodile. Lions walked the menacing walk rumbling and growling, twitching their tails. The crock lay flat looking menacing, ignoring the threat until it appeared immanent then it would raise its head and hiss as it opened its mouth occasionally roaring after a lunge towards the nearest lion. The encounter ended in stalemate as the crocodile joined others in a damp burrow in the dry riverbank. Further up the riverbed one such den held more than twenty similar sized green grinning cunning slit eyed flat dogs.
It was a pleasure to be back on open clean water on Lake Tanganyika to visit the primates of Mahale Mountains National Park. Rugged mountains covered in evergreen forest, tumbling down to a tropical paradise of golden sand and cool breezes. The chimps mated, hunted and fished for insects with twigs all around us during three visits with them of an hour at a time. The sounds they screeched and hooted were huge and enraged as males displayed breaking thick branches off large trees. Swinging hand over hand from lianas in thick jungle all around us they competed for the attentions of ready females. It was a female that ended up with the lion’s share of the red colobus monkey hunted a few yard from us. She begged it of the alpha male but lost it a short while latter to a lower ranking male. Some of the females participated keenly in the hunt too.
I saw some new sunbirds (Red-chested, Rwenzori Double-collared and may be immature Regal), a Narina Trogon and a red-throated Alethe without the red throat? I even managed to catch a few Kuhe (a large predatory cichlid) for camp on a fly rod. The snorkelling was superb. We must have seen at least twenty different types of colourful fresh water aquarium fish in their natural environment. The rift valley cleaved across three large river systems and the few species of fish found in the rivers diversified in to the hundreds found in Tanganyika today. While admiring the show, I imagining shadows of Nile crocodile, we swam over two Tanganyika water cobras. They are un-aggressive in the water and beautifully marked. Not to admire too closely however.
The camps were all magical and relaxing. It was especially good to be back around water, fish and boats, a rare treat.
On my last visit a few weeks ago we saw lion unable to resist a band of banded mongooses that had caught their attention by scuttling through the grass up wind. The lions staked and the mongooses bunched up chattering and fled for the nearest termite mound.
Two lionesses launched an assault and each caught a very indignant and rapidly chattering banded. Now the lionesses considered their actions and options as confusion and embarrassment dawned. As they lifted the offending paw and relaxed their extended claws one of the lionesses then gently pushed the stunned mongoose down the termite vent it had almost reached before.
These were very tame lion as where the elephant and the four leopards we saw in the park. One young bull elephant completely immersed himself into a pull and lulled about floundering. A bit like a very large rotund granny trying to get in and out of one of those hot jet Jacuzzi things.
Katavi too is very dry as thousands of hippos are forced again into several muddy methane bubbling sewers. They hardly have the energy to move and stare with a sinister gleam in their eye daring closer approach.
The lions along the Chada River feed at will on buffalo forced to hang about ranging a day’s walk from the remaining springs. We saw them comically again as seven of the pride ignored hundreds of buffalo to spend time bulling a not entirely defenceless 13ft crocodile. Lions walked the menacing walk rumbling and growling, twitching their tails. The crock lay flat looking menacing, ignoring the threat until it appeared immanent then it would raise its head and hiss as it opened its mouth occasionally roaring after a lunge towards the nearest lion. The encounter ended in stalemate as the crocodile joined others in a damp burrow in the dry riverbank. Further up the riverbed one such den held more than twenty similar sized green grinning cunning slit eyed flat dogs.
It was a pleasure to be back on open clean water on Lake Tanganyika to visit the primates of Mahale Mountains National Park. Rugged mountains covered in evergreen forest, tumbling down to a tropical paradise of golden sand and cool breezes. The chimps mated, hunted and fished for insects with twigs all around us during three visits with them of an hour at a time. The sounds they screeched and hooted were huge and enraged as males displayed breaking thick branches off large trees. Swinging hand over hand from lianas in thick jungle all around us they competed for the attentions of ready females. It was a female that ended up with the lion’s share of the red colobus monkey hunted a few yard from us. She begged it of the alpha male but lost it a short while latter to a lower ranking male. Some of the females participated keenly in the hunt too.
I saw some new sunbirds (Red-chested, Rwenzori Double-collared and may be immature Regal), a Narina Trogon and a red-throated Alethe without the red throat? I even managed to catch a few Kuhe (a large predatory cichlid) for camp on a fly rod. The snorkelling was superb. We must have seen at least twenty different types of colourful fresh water aquarium fish in their natural environment. The rift valley cleaved across three large river systems and the few species of fish found in the rivers diversified in to the hundreds found in Tanganyika today. While admiring the show, I imagining shadows of Nile crocodile, we swam over two Tanganyika water cobras. They are un-aggressive in the water and beautifully marked. Not to admire too closely however.
The camps were all magical and relaxing. It was especially good to be back around water, fish and boats, a rare treat.
Loliondo January 2004
As we drove out to camp the southern plains from Goll to Nabi were scattered migration. It was not as green as it could be, which may be good for Loliondo, as it is finally getting late rain.
It has rained and the grass was sprouting, by the time we left it was a golf course. The Tommy were starting to calve and every other female, of all types, could hardly run for belly. On the first morning John and I only had one taker for a walk as the rest of the group had remembered that they were on holiday and due back soon.
After the usual, where shall we go this morning, and based on conversations with Maasai visiting camp, we set off for the north of Grumechin hill were the herds of domestic stock were leaving due to tsetse. As we arrived near enough the hill to start walking we paused to look at a small herd of wildebeest and Tommy tightly grouped and nervous. Soon we herd a growl, not far off, and defiantly menacing. So we started to walk towards the hill across open grass and whistling thorn thickets. How they ever got from the first growl to where they appeared is beyond me, but three lions slunk out of a thicket at the foot of the hill at about two fifty yards. A young mature but still clumsy and mane-less lion, a young lioness and an older, wiser lioness. They started up the hill we were to climb but we never saw them make it more than half way up before the vanished into the patches of bush. The wooded plains on either side of the hill were green and the morning air was clear and crisp.
On the windy eastern face of the hill little could be heard for wind but as soon as we zigzagged back and forth to the sheltered west birds were noisy as any sunny cool morning of the first seasonal rain. Near the beginning of the top ridge we stumbled upon three Chandlers reedbuck at ten yards who were reluctant to flee. They took off before I could slip my camera out but as we followed them over the ridge they pointed to the lions that were working there way along the slope below at less than forty yards. There is a certain thrill to watching three large lions swaggering along so close with only grass and slope between you. Especially if you are aware of what they can do. I wanted to hide and so watch them undetected for as long as possible but looking at John realized he was too fearless of a state of mind to comprehend any move that could be seen as un-defiant. So we stood until the older lioness looked up at us and immediately skulked off with the lion, the way she had come. The young and feisty growler, who I am sure I recognize from another day, found her centre dropped her head in unrepentant submission and growled with here ears back before following the others.
Yards away we walked up on a Klipspringer pair. The male was gloriously posed on a bolder with the plains laid out below him. He stood for us viewing us as little threat compared to what he had seen picking their way bellow him a moment before.
After being growled at through the scrubby thorn on the crest of the hill once more, we decided we wanted to win the king of the mountain game and followed cautiously to ensure they trotted down the west slope and out onto the plains, disturbing small groups of eland and zebra. A group of seven giraffe to broke of there browsing to follow with their necks pointing together allowing no confusion in translation and casting long parallel shadows on new grass that shimmers with green energy as it grows.
Two next mornings but one, there were only the three of us for the six am departure and we drove all the way down the Alamana to the Mollel Rocks hoping to see a leopard. At the giant granite boulders near the Serengeti boundary we strolled up onto a young lion with a Mohegan mane. As he was about to be winded with our smell we stopped to watched as it came over him. He lifted his head as soon as the breeze took the odour to him and then as it grew stronger he lazily searched us out. As soon as we appeared in his sleepy field of view and he made us out he was away.
We circled the boulders at a distance hoping, perhaps, to see him again but at a guarded distance. All this time the Guinea fowl chirped angrily on the far side of the outcrop, and we glanced across frequently and furtively. When we eventually rounded into the precarious area of avian alarm we found an 11ft python strung out and obliviously slithering across the floodplain. It was about as thick a slender mans thigh in the middle. It eventually became concerned with us after we had got within a few feet and coiled menacingly. It launched a strike that carried four feet when I got too close. The pattern on its skin was bright, new and stunning, and no, I didn’t immediately think of boots and handbags.
It has rained and the grass was sprouting, by the time we left it was a golf course. The Tommy were starting to calve and every other female, of all types, could hardly run for belly. On the first morning John and I only had one taker for a walk as the rest of the group had remembered that they were on holiday and due back soon.
After the usual, where shall we go this morning, and based on conversations with Maasai visiting camp, we set off for the north of Grumechin hill were the herds of domestic stock were leaving due to tsetse. As we arrived near enough the hill to start walking we paused to look at a small herd of wildebeest and Tommy tightly grouped and nervous. Soon we herd a growl, not far off, and defiantly menacing. So we started to walk towards the hill across open grass and whistling thorn thickets. How they ever got from the first growl to where they appeared is beyond me, but three lions slunk out of a thicket at the foot of the hill at about two fifty yards. A young mature but still clumsy and mane-less lion, a young lioness and an older, wiser lioness. They started up the hill we were to climb but we never saw them make it more than half way up before the vanished into the patches of bush. The wooded plains on either side of the hill were green and the morning air was clear and crisp.
On the windy eastern face of the hill little could be heard for wind but as soon as we zigzagged back and forth to the sheltered west birds were noisy as any sunny cool morning of the first seasonal rain. Near the beginning of the top ridge we stumbled upon three Chandlers reedbuck at ten yards who were reluctant to flee. They took off before I could slip my camera out but as we followed them over the ridge they pointed to the lions that were working there way along the slope below at less than forty yards. There is a certain thrill to watching three large lions swaggering along so close with only grass and slope between you. Especially if you are aware of what they can do. I wanted to hide and so watch them undetected for as long as possible but looking at John realized he was too fearless of a state of mind to comprehend any move that could be seen as un-defiant. So we stood until the older lioness looked up at us and immediately skulked off with the lion, the way she had come. The young and feisty growler, who I am sure I recognize from another day, found her centre dropped her head in unrepentant submission and growled with here ears back before following the others.
Yards away we walked up on a Klipspringer pair. The male was gloriously posed on a bolder with the plains laid out below him. He stood for us viewing us as little threat compared to what he had seen picking their way bellow him a moment before.
After being growled at through the scrubby thorn on the crest of the hill once more, we decided we wanted to win the king of the mountain game and followed cautiously to ensure they trotted down the west slope and out onto the plains, disturbing small groups of eland and zebra. A group of seven giraffe to broke of there browsing to follow with their necks pointing together allowing no confusion in translation and casting long parallel shadows on new grass that shimmers with green energy as it grows.
Two next mornings but one, there were only the three of us for the six am departure and we drove all the way down the Alamana to the Mollel Rocks hoping to see a leopard. At the giant granite boulders near the Serengeti boundary we strolled up onto a young lion with a Mohegan mane. As he was about to be winded with our smell we stopped to watched as it came over him. He lifted his head as soon as the breeze took the odour to him and then as it grew stronger he lazily searched us out. As soon as we appeared in his sleepy field of view and he made us out he was away.
We circled the boulders at a distance hoping, perhaps, to see him again but at a guarded distance. All this time the Guinea fowl chirped angrily on the far side of the outcrop, and we glanced across frequently and furtively. When we eventually rounded into the precarious area of avian alarm we found an 11ft python strung out and obliviously slithering across the floodplain. It was about as thick a slender mans thigh in the middle. It eventually became concerned with us after we had got within a few feet and coiled menacingly. It launched a strike that carried four feet when I got too close. The pattern on its skin was bright, new and stunning, and no, I didn’t immediately think of boots and handbags.
A Walk on the Wild Side
There was a fresh wind blowing away the rain clouds as the Davis family - Mark, Sally and Kate (8) – set out from Ngaroi camp shortly after dawn to drive to the hills bordering Serengeti for their second walking safari. We were accompanied by Philip, our walking guide and a professional hunter; Naiman, our driver, guide and companion for our whole safari; John, a Masai guide; and Mustapha, from the camp.
The drive was eventful in that we didn’t get stuck! We saw a great deal of plains game – zebra, Thompson and Grants gazelles, eland - and remarkably a substantial family of ostriches with around 15 chicks. We were treated to a display of dummy runs with a pretend broken wing from one of the males, who was hoping to distract us from pursuing the flock. As we covered the plain to our destination, we could see buffalo in the lower areas of the hill.
When we arrived at the foot of the hill, we spotted a mature cheetah and slowly followed him in the jeep as he began to climb the scree. We left our jeep and began to follow on foot, hoping to pick up his tracks. As we walked carefully up the hill, Philip showed us the tracks of an eland which seemed to have turned hurriedly and run down the hill earlier in the morning. Shortly afterwards we saw fresh impala tracks and some very fresh spots of blood which Philip thought came from impala, although he did not necessarily think the animal was wounded but might have just given birth. Suddenly, as we looked up to the brow of the hill about 30 metres in front of us, we saw two lionesses and two cubs scampering down the hill. They took no notice of us and disappeared, we thought, down into the Serengeti.
We continued to walk up the hill, hearing the wind whistling through the thorns on the acacia bushes, until we gained the summit and had remarkable panoramic views over the Serengeti and back across the Loliondo area and up to the Kenyan border. It felt magnificent, with the sun and a gentle wind and views of game grazing below. We saw mountain reedbuck at the top of the hill and then found a sheltered spot for our morning coffee overlooking the Serengeti. As we looked down into the plain we could see giraffe, hyenas and gazelle, who looked rather unsettled. We thought this might be as a result of the lion that we had seen going down the mountain.
Suddenly, Philip, Naiman and John heard a warning whistle from the reedbuck. They looked round and Naiman shouted “Simba”. We looked up and the hill was alive with lion. On the right, a very young cub was coming down the hill – and disappeared from sight – about 30 metres away. A slightly older male cub was heading straight for our temporary camp and up on the brow of the hill we could see other cubs and lionesses. Philip started shouting in Swahili and walking towards the cub to scare it away, but it kept on coming. At less than 10 metres away, Philip fired a warning shot in front of the cub to stop it and after a few seconds (and a few metres closer) the cub stopped and turned back up the hill. On the left immediately above our position, a mature lioness was now gaining ground, growling and charging towards us. Everyone shouted and John towered over Kate to protect her, raising his spear in case of an attack. Thankfully, the lioness stopped, roared and turned back up the hill, without another shot being needed. We could see other lionesses and cubs on the top of the hill, looking down at us, but they then all turned away and disappeared from sight.
We were all very shaken. But of course, we finished our tea!! We then decided to curtail our walk and go and find our vehicle (and reassure Mustapha who was waiting and would have heard the shot, that we were all OK). We climbed back up the hill, making as much noise as possible. We didn’t want to come upon the lions again by mistake. We radioed to Mustapha that we were OK and set off down the hill. As we descended, John and Naiman looked back up the hill and saw that a couple of the lions appeared to be following us. Everyone armed themselves with some stones, just in case, and Sally and Kate recited poetry to keep them feeling brave. To add to the excitement, on the right, Mark and Kate spotted a buffalo in a thicket. Philip thought it might be in distress and at that point thought it might have been wounded by the lion.
We continued down and were pleased to reach Mustapha and the safety of the vehicle. Once refreshed, we noticed vultures circling over a thicket close by. We edged the vehicle towards the thicket, and we then saw that it contained a dead buffalo. Philip, Naiman and John gingerly got out to explore. After about 10 minutes they returned to tell us that the buffalo had not been killed by lion, but probably by Morani – Masai warriors, who are required to kill fierce animals as a rite of passage to manhood. Unusually, however, they had not cut off the tail, and so Philip speculated that one of them might have been hurt in the process and therefore returned to their boma for medical treatment. Philip also thought that it might have been the presence of the warriors on the mountain that had made all of the game so jumpy and caused the behaviour of the lions. Having been given the all-clear – it did not seem that the lion had found the buffalo yet, but could smell it and were probably looking for it – Mark, Sally and Kate walked a little closer (but not too close!) to see the buffalo.
We then returned to the vehicle and made our way back to our camp having had the most remarkable life experience. We were immensely grateful to our three guides. A walk in the park turned into a walk on the wild side!
This was the first time I have had to fire a shot on a photographic walking safari. I would be too much to ask that it be the last. Although we try to get close to all wildlife on these walks it is my job to prevent a direct confrontation as this definitely was. The good news is that it was the lions that ran into us and not that we were approaching them.
Everybody did exactly the right thing and stood their ground, not an easy thing with the deep soul shaking growls of lion all around. If any of us had shown the fear we all felt in the pit of our stomachs and backed up or turned to run the lioness that charged might not have stopped and I would have had to kill her. I had the bead on her and would have waited until she was on us before firing, I had also had time to reload the first barrel of the double .470 rifle I was carrying, before she started her charge, and always had the second barrel un fired as back-up.
This was a day that none of us will forget, not only for the lions but the breathtaking beauty of the area during the rains and the variety if animals and puzzling behavior we uncounted. The wilderness is always more complicated than it seams on the surface and every time I venture out into it I learn more.
This was Kate’s day though, who still very shaken immediately after the lionesses charge, had not lost her sense of humour, “ I think I have seen enough lions now.” she said.
The drive was eventful in that we didn’t get stuck! We saw a great deal of plains game – zebra, Thompson and Grants gazelles, eland - and remarkably a substantial family of ostriches with around 15 chicks. We were treated to a display of dummy runs with a pretend broken wing from one of the males, who was hoping to distract us from pursuing the flock. As we covered the plain to our destination, we could see buffalo in the lower areas of the hill.
When we arrived at the foot of the hill, we spotted a mature cheetah and slowly followed him in the jeep as he began to climb the scree. We left our jeep and began to follow on foot, hoping to pick up his tracks. As we walked carefully up the hill, Philip showed us the tracks of an eland which seemed to have turned hurriedly and run down the hill earlier in the morning. Shortly afterwards we saw fresh impala tracks and some very fresh spots of blood which Philip thought came from impala, although he did not necessarily think the animal was wounded but might have just given birth. Suddenly, as we looked up to the brow of the hill about 30 metres in front of us, we saw two lionesses and two cubs scampering down the hill. They took no notice of us and disappeared, we thought, down into the Serengeti.
We continued to walk up the hill, hearing the wind whistling through the thorns on the acacia bushes, until we gained the summit and had remarkable panoramic views over the Serengeti and back across the Loliondo area and up to the Kenyan border. It felt magnificent, with the sun and a gentle wind and views of game grazing below. We saw mountain reedbuck at the top of the hill and then found a sheltered spot for our morning coffee overlooking the Serengeti. As we looked down into the plain we could see giraffe, hyenas and gazelle, who looked rather unsettled. We thought this might be as a result of the lion that we had seen going down the mountain.
Suddenly, Philip, Naiman and John heard a warning whistle from the reedbuck. They looked round and Naiman shouted “Simba”. We looked up and the hill was alive with lion. On the right, a very young cub was coming down the hill – and disappeared from sight – about 30 metres away. A slightly older male cub was heading straight for our temporary camp and up on the brow of the hill we could see other cubs and lionesses. Philip started shouting in Swahili and walking towards the cub to scare it away, but it kept on coming. At less than 10 metres away, Philip fired a warning shot in front of the cub to stop it and after a few seconds (and a few metres closer) the cub stopped and turned back up the hill. On the left immediately above our position, a mature lioness was now gaining ground, growling and charging towards us. Everyone shouted and John towered over Kate to protect her, raising his spear in case of an attack. Thankfully, the lioness stopped, roared and turned back up the hill, without another shot being needed. We could see other lionesses and cubs on the top of the hill, looking down at us, but they then all turned away and disappeared from sight.
We were all very shaken. But of course, we finished our tea!! We then decided to curtail our walk and go and find our vehicle (and reassure Mustapha who was waiting and would have heard the shot, that we were all OK). We climbed back up the hill, making as much noise as possible. We didn’t want to come upon the lions again by mistake. We radioed to Mustapha that we were OK and set off down the hill. As we descended, John and Naiman looked back up the hill and saw that a couple of the lions appeared to be following us. Everyone armed themselves with some stones, just in case, and Sally and Kate recited poetry to keep them feeling brave. To add to the excitement, on the right, Mark and Kate spotted a buffalo in a thicket. Philip thought it might be in distress and at that point thought it might have been wounded by the lion.
We continued down and were pleased to reach Mustapha and the safety of the vehicle. Once refreshed, we noticed vultures circling over a thicket close by. We edged the vehicle towards the thicket, and we then saw that it contained a dead buffalo. Philip, Naiman and John gingerly got out to explore. After about 10 minutes they returned to tell us that the buffalo had not been killed by lion, but probably by Morani – Masai warriors, who are required to kill fierce animals as a rite of passage to manhood. Unusually, however, they had not cut off the tail, and so Philip speculated that one of them might have been hurt in the process and therefore returned to their boma for medical treatment. Philip also thought that it might have been the presence of the warriors on the mountain that had made all of the game so jumpy and caused the behaviour of the lions. Having been given the all-clear – it did not seem that the lion had found the buffalo yet, but could smell it and were probably looking for it – Mark, Sally and Kate walked a little closer (but not too close!) to see the buffalo.
We then returned to the vehicle and made our way back to our camp having had the most remarkable life experience. We were immensely grateful to our three guides. A walk in the park turned into a walk on the wild side!
This was the first time I have had to fire a shot on a photographic walking safari. I would be too much to ask that it be the last. Although we try to get close to all wildlife on these walks it is my job to prevent a direct confrontation as this definitely was. The good news is that it was the lions that ran into us and not that we were approaching them.
Everybody did exactly the right thing and stood their ground, not an easy thing with the deep soul shaking growls of lion all around. If any of us had shown the fear we all felt in the pit of our stomachs and backed up or turned to run the lioness that charged might not have stopped and I would have had to kill her. I had the bead on her and would have waited until she was on us before firing, I had also had time to reload the first barrel of the double .470 rifle I was carrying, before she started her charge, and always had the second barrel un fired as back-up.
This was a day that none of us will forget, not only for the lions but the breathtaking beauty of the area during the rains and the variety if animals and puzzling behavior we uncounted. The wilderness is always more complicated than it seams on the surface and every time I venture out into it I learn more.
This was Kate’s day though, who still very shaken immediately after the lionesses charge, had not lost her sense of humour, “ I think I have seen enough lions now.” she said.
A trip into central Tanzania
Sara was very nervous on arriving in Mahali National Park (MNP), a bit odd as we are both seasoned safari guides and have lived in the wilds of East Africa for much of our lives. She was putting on a brave face but her chimp phobia was threatening to spoil our stay.
I was pleased to hear that we were to go strait to camp and out immediately to see the chimp cousins as they were near the camp for the first time in days and the opportunity might not arise again during our stay. This would kill the stress about seeing the chimps up close and allow her to relax and enjoy the break. (Every body that has gone to Greystoke camp to see the critters this year has seen them, but some have walked all day in order to do so.)
We had arrived at a small village just north of the park in a Cessna 206 after a short (1hr) hop from Katavi National Park (KNP), a scenic trip from the hot floodplain surrounded by Miombo woodland over the Mahali Mountains down to the bright blue Lake Tanganyika shoreline. (Driving to these areas is not worth considering, as only KNP is accessible by road after a very long tedious bumpy hot dusty drive that would take at least three days from Arusha. There are now scheduled flights and that has reduced the prohibitive cost, in the region of $7000, to charter a small plane there and back. Obviously the logistical costs of maintaining a camp in the area are also high.)
KNP is the only National Park in Tanzania that was established at the behest of the local people. At the heart of the park are several open grassland seasonal swamps that are rimmed by sandy knolls covered with woodland containing beautiful huge shady Acacia Albida, Tamarind and Pod Mahogany trees. The park is surrounded by Miombo woodland covered hills and to the northeast the Mlele escarpment down which flow several clear small rivers.
Buffalo herds of three thousand head were ranging over the swamps on our visit, I wander if there is any where in the world that can rival the huge pods of hippo that were in the middle of the swamp in front of the camp. I found the Lions to be unusually gangly and the lionesses, the heaviest I have seen, were bothering a very large heard of buffalo along the same river. The bigger finer striped Selous type of zebra and the generally larger eastern Tz Topi were abundant. We saw Lichtenstein’s Hartebeest, Roan antelope and where unlucky to miss Sable. It was a time of hippo though, as they were being forces into a smaller patch by hunting outside and less water within KNP. We saw fearsome battles as groups of males struggled to dominate the shit full puddles. I have herd their battles at night but this was the first time in my life I saw the drama unfold before my eyes and only yards away. I would recommend this experience for anybody especially second time visitors to Tz who have seen the wanders of the Serengeti before.
MNP is a very different place. After the 30-minute ride on the dhow to camp we found ourselves on a root march through thick tropical forest and abandoned oil palm orchards trying to catch up to the habituated troop of chimps. Teams of scientist from Japan have been studying the troop since the sixties and, with little fanfare, have built up a detailed knowledge of all aspects of the troop daily trials and tribulations. After about 40minutes of speed walking we met up with the camp manager who had been waiting to accompany us to the troop and started playing catch-up again hearing chattering and loud screams all around us.
Suddenly one of the guides at the back of our group told of approaching chimps from the rear and we obediently sat down on the side of the narrow bush path. Sara was looking decidedly nervous as the whispering of information started and seven of the top males in the troop, numbering about fifty individuals, paced by in a very determined manner indeed scarcely looking at us sitting inches away as they passed. We, and the chimps, seemed to be avoiding eye contact and pretending that this was an inconsequential chance passing in the forest. It probably was for the chimps but for me it was totally surreal, and for Sara? By the time we headed back to camp we had watched a full display of aggression from the number three ranked male and seen the gentle play and grooming sessions within a family group. She was very pleased that she had made the effort and almost overcome the fear of them.
Mahali is really a small piece of the Congo basin that was marooned on the wrong side of the rift valley as the lake (the second deepest in the world) formed. It is not ideal for game viewing as the generally dense vegetation makes picking things out in the forest very difficult. However I have seldom been in a place more like paradise, and felt very much at home and relaxed. The lakes clear water offers excellent snorkeling and fishing being a recognized source of some very beautiful and endemic tropical fish. All of these activities cost a little extra, as licenses are required from the National Park. I hope to return soon and explore further.
Both of the camps that we stayed in were very comfortable and have been creatively put together. The food was excellent.
I was pleased to hear that we were to go strait to camp and out immediately to see the chimp cousins as they were near the camp for the first time in days and the opportunity might not arise again during our stay. This would kill the stress about seeing the chimps up close and allow her to relax and enjoy the break. (Every body that has gone to Greystoke camp to see the critters this year has seen them, but some have walked all day in order to do so.)
We had arrived at a small village just north of the park in a Cessna 206 after a short (1hr) hop from Katavi National Park (KNP), a scenic trip from the hot floodplain surrounded by Miombo woodland over the Mahali Mountains down to the bright blue Lake Tanganyika shoreline. (Driving to these areas is not worth considering, as only KNP is accessible by road after a very long tedious bumpy hot dusty drive that would take at least three days from Arusha. There are now scheduled flights and that has reduced the prohibitive cost, in the region of $7000, to charter a small plane there and back. Obviously the logistical costs of maintaining a camp in the area are also high.)
KNP is the only National Park in Tanzania that was established at the behest of the local people. At the heart of the park are several open grassland seasonal swamps that are rimmed by sandy knolls covered with woodland containing beautiful huge shady Acacia Albida, Tamarind and Pod Mahogany trees. The park is surrounded by Miombo woodland covered hills and to the northeast the Mlele escarpment down which flow several clear small rivers.
Buffalo herds of three thousand head were ranging over the swamps on our visit, I wander if there is any where in the world that can rival the huge pods of hippo that were in the middle of the swamp in front of the camp. I found the Lions to be unusually gangly and the lionesses, the heaviest I have seen, were bothering a very large heard of buffalo along the same river. The bigger finer striped Selous type of zebra and the generally larger eastern Tz Topi were abundant. We saw Lichtenstein’s Hartebeest, Roan antelope and where unlucky to miss Sable. It was a time of hippo though, as they were being forces into a smaller patch by hunting outside and less water within KNP. We saw fearsome battles as groups of males struggled to dominate the shit full puddles. I have herd their battles at night but this was the first time in my life I saw the drama unfold before my eyes and only yards away. I would recommend this experience for anybody especially second time visitors to Tz who have seen the wanders of the Serengeti before.
MNP is a very different place. After the 30-minute ride on the dhow to camp we found ourselves on a root march through thick tropical forest and abandoned oil palm orchards trying to catch up to the habituated troop of chimps. Teams of scientist from Japan have been studying the troop since the sixties and, with little fanfare, have built up a detailed knowledge of all aspects of the troop daily trials and tribulations. After about 40minutes of speed walking we met up with the camp manager who had been waiting to accompany us to the troop and started playing catch-up again hearing chattering and loud screams all around us.
Suddenly one of the guides at the back of our group told of approaching chimps from the rear and we obediently sat down on the side of the narrow bush path. Sara was looking decidedly nervous as the whispering of information started and seven of the top males in the troop, numbering about fifty individuals, paced by in a very determined manner indeed scarcely looking at us sitting inches away as they passed. We, and the chimps, seemed to be avoiding eye contact and pretending that this was an inconsequential chance passing in the forest. It probably was for the chimps but for me it was totally surreal, and for Sara? By the time we headed back to camp we had watched a full display of aggression from the number three ranked male and seen the gentle play and grooming sessions within a family group. She was very pleased that she had made the effort and almost overcome the fear of them.
Mahali is really a small piece of the Congo basin that was marooned on the wrong side of the rift valley as the lake (the second deepest in the world) formed. It is not ideal for game viewing as the generally dense vegetation makes picking things out in the forest very difficult. However I have seldom been in a place more like paradise, and felt very much at home and relaxed. The lakes clear water offers excellent snorkeling and fishing being a recognized source of some very beautiful and endemic tropical fish. All of these activities cost a little extra, as licenses are required from the National Park. I hope to return soon and explore further.
Both of the camps that we stayed in were very comfortable and have been creatively put together. The food was excellent.
Loliondo December 2003-12-17
I was looking forward to going back out to Loliondo and even the thought of the long too often travel journey out from Arusha was not enough to dampen my spirits as I set off. The new headphones I bought on my way back from the USA helped while away the tedious trip that I must have done more than two hundred times. The scenery is stunning, but I must always rush to get to camp in time to welcome the clients with the cold champagne.
I was concerned about the lack of rain and thought it may be a difficult safari if the Wildlife Explorer concession was still as dry as the rest of the country. The short rains have not really arrived, however parts of Loliondo have had isolated thunder showers and while we were there it threatened to rain every day. Huge tropical thunderstorms rolled across the western horizon, a flashing night light show. I should not have worried, as it turned out there was plenty of game to keep us entertained.
We woke before dawn and met around the fire for a light breakfast and steaming coffee. Our first walk was up and along the ridge on the Serengeti National Park boundary. Although dry the view is spectacular and the cool breeze was refreshing and welcome. Game was abundant as far as the eye could see. I don’t think I have ever seen so many hartebeest, many of which were accompanied by small calves. On the hill we only got a fleeting look at a mountain reedbuck but walked into herds of impala, zebra and eland.
That afternoon I decided to drive down to the river and see what we could find. About half way along the river there is an open area where the cattle herders have dug out some of the less saline springs to water their cattle. The area is beautiful, green and open. As we drove on the track we found the carcass of a fully-grown bull Giraffe. I stopped to look around for clues as to what had happened. A puzzling contradictory set of clues emerged at first but I settled on a very large lion having done the dead as the large spaced teeth puncture wounds on the neck just bellow the bottom jaw indicated. However the back skin had been neatly cut away with a knife and the back strap filet cleanly removed. Also the tendon from the front leg had been removed. This is the preferred gut used on local bows as it is strong pliable and dose not stretch. Some one had then hacked into the shinbone with a panga looking for the marrow that is eaten raw on the spot.
I was just starting to become concerned at the lack of vultures, indicating the presence of a large predator to scare them away, when Cory (client) looked into the stomach cavity and remarked that there was a bird in there.
On closer inspection we discovered that there was indeed a white backed vulture in the chest cavity. It had forced its head greedily between the ribs of the Giraffe to reach some morsel and then promptly become stuck. At first I thought it had left this planet but when I lifted a flap of thick dried skin to reveal the ugly head I notices it appeared to be breathing very shallowly. I realized here was a chance to play the part of true bush hero and release this scavenger from its putrid tomb. I slid my razor sharp hunting knife from its sheath and with John (my Maasai assistant) peering in from bellow to make sure I did not decapitate the intended helpless object of my compassion I cut away some of the incredibly thick tough hide. This was so that I could grab the horrible wrinkled head and force it through the widest gap between the offending ribs. The vulture hissed and was not very pleased with this, but once free collapsed where it was. This was no fun and I needed to see the results of my daring do first hand to confirm my status as protector of the beneficiary of others doom. I lent in to the chest cavity and grabbed a wing and then another, which I immediately led go, as the dazed bird turned and snapped gratefully at my hand with its razor beak. Now it had no choice but freedom and bounced of down the hill attempting to launch but only swooping down the slope barely avoiding a whistling thorn on the way. The last we saw of it, it was sitting in a dazed state being eyed by an obviously desperate jackal.
Vultures have evolved the long neck to enable them to reach between the skin and bone of a carcass, as they are not powerful enough to tear open the skin. I have also heard tell of a hyena that perished as it was trapped in the same way in an elephant carcass.
I spent the rest of the day pretending not to notice the stench of rotting Giraffe flesh wafting up from my hands.
Further on we found two mature buffalo bulls that I drove up on fast, something I like to do once in a while to demonstrate their bulk and strength as the speed away. When you have seen a good sized buffalo run off at fifteen yards you will never look at them with that dazed and disinterested expression again.
I was also pleased to see that the reedbuck, who had dispersed for the rains last season where back bunched all along the river as they are a graceful sight bounding off as we walk the river, which we did the following morning. We found paw prints of one of the huge male lion that live along the river but unfortunately were unable to track him down. We did catch a fleeting glance of an enormous tom leopard as it glided fluidly over the ground with incredible speed and disappeared into a dry riverbed. On the third day we walked along another hill, and stalked a herd of impala getting to within ten yards. Again we were looking for lion but saw buffalo, giraffe, hartebeest, cheetah and more.
All in all, an eventful safari, with good company. The highlight was a good look at an alert but curious and shifty leopardess. She was just as interested in us as we were in her.
The drive back, the thrill I get from the incredible isolation and freedom, alone on the plains in immense space of huge rolling vistas bordered by the Ngorongoro blue highlands was further romanticised by Sebelius and others. The wet season and migration are back.
I was concerned about the lack of rain and thought it may be a difficult safari if the Wildlife Explorer concession was still as dry as the rest of the country. The short rains have not really arrived, however parts of Loliondo have had isolated thunder showers and while we were there it threatened to rain every day. Huge tropical thunderstorms rolled across the western horizon, a flashing night light show. I should not have worried, as it turned out there was plenty of game to keep us entertained.
We woke before dawn and met around the fire for a light breakfast and steaming coffee. Our first walk was up and along the ridge on the Serengeti National Park boundary. Although dry the view is spectacular and the cool breeze was refreshing and welcome. Game was abundant as far as the eye could see. I don’t think I have ever seen so many hartebeest, many of which were accompanied by small calves. On the hill we only got a fleeting look at a mountain reedbuck but walked into herds of impala, zebra and eland.
That afternoon I decided to drive down to the river and see what we could find. About half way along the river there is an open area where the cattle herders have dug out some of the less saline springs to water their cattle. The area is beautiful, green and open. As we drove on the track we found the carcass of a fully-grown bull Giraffe. I stopped to look around for clues as to what had happened. A puzzling contradictory set of clues emerged at first but I settled on a very large lion having done the dead as the large spaced teeth puncture wounds on the neck just bellow the bottom jaw indicated. However the back skin had been neatly cut away with a knife and the back strap filet cleanly removed. Also the tendon from the front leg had been removed. This is the preferred gut used on local bows as it is strong pliable and dose not stretch. Some one had then hacked into the shinbone with a panga looking for the marrow that is eaten raw on the spot.
I was just starting to become concerned at the lack of vultures, indicating the presence of a large predator to scare them away, when Cory (client) looked into the stomach cavity and remarked that there was a bird in there.
On closer inspection we discovered that there was indeed a white backed vulture in the chest cavity. It had forced its head greedily between the ribs of the Giraffe to reach some morsel and then promptly become stuck. At first I thought it had left this planet but when I lifted a flap of thick dried skin to reveal the ugly head I notices it appeared to be breathing very shallowly. I realized here was a chance to play the part of true bush hero and release this scavenger from its putrid tomb. I slid my razor sharp hunting knife from its sheath and with John (my Maasai assistant) peering in from bellow to make sure I did not decapitate the intended helpless object of my compassion I cut away some of the incredibly thick tough hide. This was so that I could grab the horrible wrinkled head and force it through the widest gap between the offending ribs. The vulture hissed and was not very pleased with this, but once free collapsed where it was. This was no fun and I needed to see the results of my daring do first hand to confirm my status as protector of the beneficiary of others doom. I lent in to the chest cavity and grabbed a wing and then another, which I immediately led go, as the dazed bird turned and snapped gratefully at my hand with its razor beak. Now it had no choice but freedom and bounced of down the hill attempting to launch but only swooping down the slope barely avoiding a whistling thorn on the way. The last we saw of it, it was sitting in a dazed state being eyed by an obviously desperate jackal.
Vultures have evolved the long neck to enable them to reach between the skin and bone of a carcass, as they are not powerful enough to tear open the skin. I have also heard tell of a hyena that perished as it was trapped in the same way in an elephant carcass.
I spent the rest of the day pretending not to notice the stench of rotting Giraffe flesh wafting up from my hands.
Further on we found two mature buffalo bulls that I drove up on fast, something I like to do once in a while to demonstrate their bulk and strength as the speed away. When you have seen a good sized buffalo run off at fifteen yards you will never look at them with that dazed and disinterested expression again.
I was also pleased to see that the reedbuck, who had dispersed for the rains last season where back bunched all along the river as they are a graceful sight bounding off as we walk the river, which we did the following morning. We found paw prints of one of the huge male lion that live along the river but unfortunately were unable to track him down. We did catch a fleeting glance of an enormous tom leopard as it glided fluidly over the ground with incredible speed and disappeared into a dry riverbed. On the third day we walked along another hill, and stalked a herd of impala getting to within ten yards. Again we were looking for lion but saw buffalo, giraffe, hartebeest, cheetah and more.
All in all, an eventful safari, with good company. The highlight was a good look at an alert but curious and shifty leopardess. She was just as interested in us as we were in her.
The drive back, the thrill I get from the incredible isolation and freedom, alone on the plains in immense space of huge rolling vistas bordered by the Ngorongoro blue highlands was further romanticised by Sebelius and others. The wet season and migration are back.
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