Trip Report: Etosha, Okavango, Kwando and Kafue - August '08 by Safaridude
Sep 14th, 2008, 10:33 AM
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Trip Report: Etosha, Okavango, Kwando and Kafue - August '08 by Safaridude
What to do when Africa is in your blood? Pass it on to the next generation, of course. So began my planning nearly two years ago for a family safari. It would be the first safari for our two boys, and seven other friends would join us. This was the big one. Seamlessly executed by Uncharted Outposts in Santa Fe, we would visit some of the most spectacular spots on earth -- Etosha, Namibia, the Okavango Delta and Kwando/Linyanti complex in Botswana, and Kafue in Zambia. It turned out to be the most action-packed safari yet.
Itinerary:
Ongava Tented Camp, Ongava Game Reserve/Etosha National Park, Namibia – 3 nights
Little Vumbura, Vumbura Concession, Okavango Delta, Botswana – 3 nights
Kwando Lebala Camp, Kwando Concession, Botswana – 3 nights
Lufupa Tented Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – 3 nights
Busanga Bush Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – 3 nights
Ongava Tented Camp, Ongava Game Reserve/Etosha National Park, Namibia – Bringing It Back to the Wild
“All the menageries in the world turned loose would not compare to the sight I saw that day.” - Gerald McKiernan, an American hunter-explorer commenting on Etosha in 1876
That is how I too felt in 1993 on my first visit to Etosha National Park. The very first morning on the eastern side of the park, I watched in awe as eleven mammal species drank together at a water hole. In previous visits, I had explored the entire southern side of Etosha Pan, staying at various camps within the park. This time, we chose to stay outside the park in the adjacent Ongava Game Reserve. It was a perfect way to enjoy both the park and the geographically contrasting Ongava.
Etosha National Park, as large as it is at 22,000 square kilometers, was once about four times larger extending all the way to the western coast of Namibia. In reducing the size of Etosha in 1963, the wildlife officials drilled artificial waterholes in the park to supplement existing natural springs in order to “compensate” the wildlife. Ongava was once wild, then became a private cattle ranch, and then became a 30,000-acre wildlife conservancy in the early ‘90s. In order to bring Ongava back to the wild, the reserve is actively managed – principally with artificial waterholes and bush clearing (overgrazing by cattle had created encroachment of bush onto grasslands). All of this adds an element of artificiality to Etosha/Ongava, but this slight “un-wildness” is, ironically, what makes Etosha/Ongava unique. During the dry season, animals must come to water in this semi-desert environment. Sitting by a waterhole, one is able to make most intimate observations of the animals.
Each day, we followed the routine of visiting Etosha in the morning and exploring Ongava in the afternoon. Since it hadn’t rained since April, the prevailing colors of Etosha’s plains were dull grey and drab yellow. But there were signs of easier days. Remarkably, Acacia Nebrownii shrubs sprout fragrant, bright yellow flowers during the height of the dry season, providing much needed fodder for the browsers. On the northern horizon, Etosha Pan glimmers in the heat. This dried-up ancient lakebed is clearly visible from space, but from the ground, it appears as a distant mirage. Game viewing at Etosha in August is all about going from waterhole to waterhole; we repeatedly visited Ombika, Olifantsbad, Aus, Gemsbokvlakte, Nebrownii and the famous Okaukuejo. From mid-morning on, the procession of animals to water begins… zebra (with distinct shadow stripes here), springbok, wildebeest, oryx (or gemsbok), greater kudu, black-faced impala, red hartebeest, giraffe, warthog, etc. A lone male lion was spotted on an open plain. Okondeka, a natural spring 30 minutes from Okaukuejo is well worth the long drive as it gives you an excellent view of the Pan. Animals seem to shimmer in the heat haze on the Pan. Salt particles from the pan are delivered by dust devils and make your hair feel as if you have gone swimming in the ocean.
Okaukuejo is the administrative headquarters of Etosha, provides inexpensive accommodations for self-drive travelers, and has a large waterhole bearing its name. It is here that we made our last stop each day before heading back to Ongava, and Okaukuejo provided the best elephant viewing opportunity, as several breeding herds came down to drink, bathe, and play. Etosha’s elephants are reputed to be the tallest elephants in the world. They also wear the silvery soil of Etosha, giving them a ghostly appearance. It is here at Okaukuejo that an infamous incident occurred in 1993. A tourist foolishly decided to spend the night outside his bungalow and got taken by an old female lion. I happened to be at Etosha at the time at the other end of the park. Two days later in the middle of the park, we ran into Daryl Balfour, the famous wildlife photographer, who happened to see the lion feeding on the human carcass the morning after. Daryl, sickened by the scene, could not get himself to press the shutter button on his camera.
Ongava Game Reserve itself is a gem. As soon as you leave Etosha and enter the bordering Ongava Game Reserve, the flatness of Etosha is broken up by Ongava’s dolomite hills. Just before arrival at Ongava Tented Camp, an improbably golden plain, interspersed with russet mopane shrubs, is grazed by zebras, oryxes and red hartebeests. The main mess area of the camp is merely a few yards from an eye-level waterhole. It is a source of constant action. Greater kudus, oryxes, zebras, waterbucks, giraffes and baboons, along with two endangered species, Hartmann’s mountain zebra and the black-faced impala, are regular visitors to the waterhole. Some inevitable carcasses are strewn around the waterhole, and many ungulates display osteophagia – chewing of the bones for phosphorous. Lions often come through camp, and one night a male roared through the night nearby, disturbing everyone’s sleep and delighting some.
While Ongava is fenced in, its borders are porous. Most animals except elephants find their way to come in and out of Etosha. Currently, Ongava is enjoying a proliferation of lions, many who are from Etosha. We were able to observe two different prides up close. “Ongava” means “rhino” in Herero language. Both white and black rhinos have been reintroduced there, and we caught two separate glimpses of the white rhino.
The camp is expertly managed by Hein, who should have been born a couple of hundred years ago as a great white hunter, and Gregory, a friendly young man who is eager to please. The highlight of each evening is when Jaces recites the dinner menu in his native Damara Nama dialect. The clicking sounds in Damara Nama are much more pronounced than the various bushman dialects; we are entertained and baffled.
Speaking of the bushmen… a few years ago, the game department of Botswana asked Hein to participate in a game count in a remote part of the Kalahari. Hein, along with a handful of men, were to find a place called Gha Pan, which theoretically exists on a map, with no roads leading there and no GPS. So, they decided to recruit some local San bushmen to accompany them in search of Gha Pan. Only one of the four recruits understood a few English words and acted as if he somewhat understood what Hein was up to. This bushman was given a long wooden stick and stationed on the back of the vehicle. With Hein driving, the bushman would tap the left window if he wanted Hein to turn left and tap the right window if he wanted Hein to turn right. After days of this through the featureless Kalahari sand dunes, Hein was beginning to have serious doubts about finding Gha Pan -- or for that matter their survival. Just then, the bushman led Hein’s vehicle up a large Kalahari sand dune, and as the vehicle reached the top of the dune, there it was: Gha Pan. If you think about it, getting lost in the Kalahari is fatal. Through instinct and learned behavior, the bushmen had developed a keener sense of direction. Hein theorized that this bushman probably once walked to Gha Pan and back from his home base, a journey that must have taken days, and that is how he knew how to get to Gha Pan. On such journeys, bushmen often sleep out in the open on nothing but goat skin mats. How they, unlike ordinary tourists, avoid getting taken by lions is a mystery.
Little Vumbura, Vumbura Concession, Okavango Delta, Botswana – The Sable Calf Rises
The moment we got off the plane at the airstrip in Vumbura, our guide Lazarus, after quickly introducing himself, asked if we would like to go see a cheetah he had spotted nearby. Within minutes we were following a big male cheetah stalking red lechwes and tsessebes. About a mile from reaching our camp, we could see in the distance three male lions feeding on a buffalo carcass. It is easy to get so spoiled in the Okavango Delta.
The Vumbura concession, sandwiched between Duba and Kwara, lies on the northeastern part of the Delta near the panhandle. The concession must be one of the most diverse in terms of vegetation. Near the airstrip, dry leadwood/knobthorn woodlands dominate. South of the airstrip is a combination of inundated green floodplains and drier plains dotted with large termite mounds and attractive, orderly jackalberry trees. Then, in order to reach Little Vumbura, one must take a blood pressure-lowering, five-minute boat ride on one of Okavango’s permanent channels. If you had just one day to experience all that the Delta has to offer, Vumbura would be a fine choice. Wildebeest, zebra, buffalo, impala, greater kudu, waterbuck, red lechwe, tsessebe, southern reedbuck, and sable are on the menu for Vumbura’s predators, and a large number of elephants come into the main game viewing areas during the dry season.
Built on one of Okavango’s many permanent islands, Little Vumbura must be one of the most tranquil places in the world. The camp exudes luxury without “going over the top”. Guests are embarrassingly pampered by the staff led by Uno, Max and Brian, and wildlife can and do move about through camp. Both Thurston Howell and Gilligan would feel right at home on this island.
The regal sable antelope is a specialty at Vumbura. While inconspicuous elsewhere, they are often encountered at Vumbura. On several occasions, we were able to observe a herd of 16, easily identifiable by the dominant bull with a missing tale and a tawny-colored two-week old calf. One morning near the sable herd, Lazarus spotted a male leopard in the thick bush. As the grazing sable herd drifted toward him, the leopard, the consummate opportunist, climbed up a tree to assess the situation with singular intent. The two-week old calf, weighing perhaps 30-40 pounds, if somehow became separated from the rest of the herd, would be an easy kill. Despite this exquisite setup, we had to return to camp to meet the rest of our party, who went on mokoro rides, for lunch. An Australian couple, who patiently stayed through the heat of the day, later captured on video an unsuccessful kill attempt by the leopard. The sable calf was indeed somewhat separated from the rest of the herd, and the leopard stalked it from right behind a large termite mound. However, at the last moment as he began his charge, the leopard saw a slightly bigger juvenile sable and turned his attention away from the calf. This last second indecision led to the leopard’s hapless lunging at the bigger juvenile, who along with the calf, got away. He had tried to “bite off more than he could chew”.
That afternoon, the local lion pride was largely ignored by the guests of Little Vumbura and its sister camp, Vumbura Plains. We were all hell bent on finding the beautiful male leopard again. The search party found the leopard not too far from the sable herd of 15. Yes, 15, not 16. The little sable calf was missing. Lazarus speculated that the leopard had probably taken the calf at some point in the afternoon and cached the carcass on a tree. Before they are allowed to join the herd, sable calves are hidden in the thick bush for about two weeks by their mothers. The calf we had seen probably just joined the heard, and thus, is about as young a sable as one can expect to see. We had nicknamed him Bambi. A certain sense of sadness came over us.
Near the airstrip one afternoon, what appeared to be smoke was seen in the distance. Bush fire was my guess, but Lazarus declared, “buffalo”. A herd of perhaps 300 buffalos was on the move, enveloping the plain with dust. Robert Ruark once said buffalos look at you like you owe them money. So true for solitary old bulls, but in a herd they appear almost gentle. The enormity of the herd conjures up images of what the Great Plains of North America must have been like with great herds of bison.
The last morning at Vumbura we decided to take a nature walk led by Brian and his rifle. Our transfer flight was much later in the day, so after the walk, we begged Lazarus for one last short game drive. Within minutes, we encountered the same sable herd. The majestic, jet-black bull was thrashing the bushes around him with his scimitar-shaped horns in classic dominance display. Then, behind one of those bushes appeared the tawny body. The sable calf was alive! Apparently, the calf had been hidden somewhere all this time. It was certainly an uplifting moment and a fitting end for our stay at Vumbura. The fact that our guide’s name was Lazarus had nothing to do with the reemergence of the sable calf, did it?
Itinerary:
Ongava Tented Camp, Ongava Game Reserve/Etosha National Park, Namibia – 3 nights
Little Vumbura, Vumbura Concession, Okavango Delta, Botswana – 3 nights
Kwando Lebala Camp, Kwando Concession, Botswana – 3 nights
Lufupa Tented Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – 3 nights
Busanga Bush Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – 3 nights
Ongava Tented Camp, Ongava Game Reserve/Etosha National Park, Namibia – Bringing It Back to the Wild
“All the menageries in the world turned loose would not compare to the sight I saw that day.” - Gerald McKiernan, an American hunter-explorer commenting on Etosha in 1876
That is how I too felt in 1993 on my first visit to Etosha National Park. The very first morning on the eastern side of the park, I watched in awe as eleven mammal species drank together at a water hole. In previous visits, I had explored the entire southern side of Etosha Pan, staying at various camps within the park. This time, we chose to stay outside the park in the adjacent Ongava Game Reserve. It was a perfect way to enjoy both the park and the geographically contrasting Ongava.
Etosha National Park, as large as it is at 22,000 square kilometers, was once about four times larger extending all the way to the western coast of Namibia. In reducing the size of Etosha in 1963, the wildlife officials drilled artificial waterholes in the park to supplement existing natural springs in order to “compensate” the wildlife. Ongava was once wild, then became a private cattle ranch, and then became a 30,000-acre wildlife conservancy in the early ‘90s. In order to bring Ongava back to the wild, the reserve is actively managed – principally with artificial waterholes and bush clearing (overgrazing by cattle had created encroachment of bush onto grasslands). All of this adds an element of artificiality to Etosha/Ongava, but this slight “un-wildness” is, ironically, what makes Etosha/Ongava unique. During the dry season, animals must come to water in this semi-desert environment. Sitting by a waterhole, one is able to make most intimate observations of the animals.
Each day, we followed the routine of visiting Etosha in the morning and exploring Ongava in the afternoon. Since it hadn’t rained since April, the prevailing colors of Etosha’s plains were dull grey and drab yellow. But there were signs of easier days. Remarkably, Acacia Nebrownii shrubs sprout fragrant, bright yellow flowers during the height of the dry season, providing much needed fodder for the browsers. On the northern horizon, Etosha Pan glimmers in the heat. This dried-up ancient lakebed is clearly visible from space, but from the ground, it appears as a distant mirage. Game viewing at Etosha in August is all about going from waterhole to waterhole; we repeatedly visited Ombika, Olifantsbad, Aus, Gemsbokvlakte, Nebrownii and the famous Okaukuejo. From mid-morning on, the procession of animals to water begins… zebra (with distinct shadow stripes here), springbok, wildebeest, oryx (or gemsbok), greater kudu, black-faced impala, red hartebeest, giraffe, warthog, etc. A lone male lion was spotted on an open plain. Okondeka, a natural spring 30 minutes from Okaukuejo is well worth the long drive as it gives you an excellent view of the Pan. Animals seem to shimmer in the heat haze on the Pan. Salt particles from the pan are delivered by dust devils and make your hair feel as if you have gone swimming in the ocean.
Okaukuejo is the administrative headquarters of Etosha, provides inexpensive accommodations for self-drive travelers, and has a large waterhole bearing its name. It is here that we made our last stop each day before heading back to Ongava, and Okaukuejo provided the best elephant viewing opportunity, as several breeding herds came down to drink, bathe, and play. Etosha’s elephants are reputed to be the tallest elephants in the world. They also wear the silvery soil of Etosha, giving them a ghostly appearance. It is here at Okaukuejo that an infamous incident occurred in 1993. A tourist foolishly decided to spend the night outside his bungalow and got taken by an old female lion. I happened to be at Etosha at the time at the other end of the park. Two days later in the middle of the park, we ran into Daryl Balfour, the famous wildlife photographer, who happened to see the lion feeding on the human carcass the morning after. Daryl, sickened by the scene, could not get himself to press the shutter button on his camera.
Ongava Game Reserve itself is a gem. As soon as you leave Etosha and enter the bordering Ongava Game Reserve, the flatness of Etosha is broken up by Ongava’s dolomite hills. Just before arrival at Ongava Tented Camp, an improbably golden plain, interspersed with russet mopane shrubs, is grazed by zebras, oryxes and red hartebeests. The main mess area of the camp is merely a few yards from an eye-level waterhole. It is a source of constant action. Greater kudus, oryxes, zebras, waterbucks, giraffes and baboons, along with two endangered species, Hartmann’s mountain zebra and the black-faced impala, are regular visitors to the waterhole. Some inevitable carcasses are strewn around the waterhole, and many ungulates display osteophagia – chewing of the bones for phosphorous. Lions often come through camp, and one night a male roared through the night nearby, disturbing everyone’s sleep and delighting some.
While Ongava is fenced in, its borders are porous. Most animals except elephants find their way to come in and out of Etosha. Currently, Ongava is enjoying a proliferation of lions, many who are from Etosha. We were able to observe two different prides up close. “Ongava” means “rhino” in Herero language. Both white and black rhinos have been reintroduced there, and we caught two separate glimpses of the white rhino.
The camp is expertly managed by Hein, who should have been born a couple of hundred years ago as a great white hunter, and Gregory, a friendly young man who is eager to please. The highlight of each evening is when Jaces recites the dinner menu in his native Damara Nama dialect. The clicking sounds in Damara Nama are much more pronounced than the various bushman dialects; we are entertained and baffled.
Speaking of the bushmen… a few years ago, the game department of Botswana asked Hein to participate in a game count in a remote part of the Kalahari. Hein, along with a handful of men, were to find a place called Gha Pan, which theoretically exists on a map, with no roads leading there and no GPS. So, they decided to recruit some local San bushmen to accompany them in search of Gha Pan. Only one of the four recruits understood a few English words and acted as if he somewhat understood what Hein was up to. This bushman was given a long wooden stick and stationed on the back of the vehicle. With Hein driving, the bushman would tap the left window if he wanted Hein to turn left and tap the right window if he wanted Hein to turn right. After days of this through the featureless Kalahari sand dunes, Hein was beginning to have serious doubts about finding Gha Pan -- or for that matter their survival. Just then, the bushman led Hein’s vehicle up a large Kalahari sand dune, and as the vehicle reached the top of the dune, there it was: Gha Pan. If you think about it, getting lost in the Kalahari is fatal. Through instinct and learned behavior, the bushmen had developed a keener sense of direction. Hein theorized that this bushman probably once walked to Gha Pan and back from his home base, a journey that must have taken days, and that is how he knew how to get to Gha Pan. On such journeys, bushmen often sleep out in the open on nothing but goat skin mats. How they, unlike ordinary tourists, avoid getting taken by lions is a mystery.
Little Vumbura, Vumbura Concession, Okavango Delta, Botswana – The Sable Calf Rises
The moment we got off the plane at the airstrip in Vumbura, our guide Lazarus, after quickly introducing himself, asked if we would like to go see a cheetah he had spotted nearby. Within minutes we were following a big male cheetah stalking red lechwes and tsessebes. About a mile from reaching our camp, we could see in the distance three male lions feeding on a buffalo carcass. It is easy to get so spoiled in the Okavango Delta.
The Vumbura concession, sandwiched between Duba and Kwara, lies on the northeastern part of the Delta near the panhandle. The concession must be one of the most diverse in terms of vegetation. Near the airstrip, dry leadwood/knobthorn woodlands dominate. South of the airstrip is a combination of inundated green floodplains and drier plains dotted with large termite mounds and attractive, orderly jackalberry trees. Then, in order to reach Little Vumbura, one must take a blood pressure-lowering, five-minute boat ride on one of Okavango’s permanent channels. If you had just one day to experience all that the Delta has to offer, Vumbura would be a fine choice. Wildebeest, zebra, buffalo, impala, greater kudu, waterbuck, red lechwe, tsessebe, southern reedbuck, and sable are on the menu for Vumbura’s predators, and a large number of elephants come into the main game viewing areas during the dry season.
Built on one of Okavango’s many permanent islands, Little Vumbura must be one of the most tranquil places in the world. The camp exudes luxury without “going over the top”. Guests are embarrassingly pampered by the staff led by Uno, Max and Brian, and wildlife can and do move about through camp. Both Thurston Howell and Gilligan would feel right at home on this island.
The regal sable antelope is a specialty at Vumbura. While inconspicuous elsewhere, they are often encountered at Vumbura. On several occasions, we were able to observe a herd of 16, easily identifiable by the dominant bull with a missing tale and a tawny-colored two-week old calf. One morning near the sable herd, Lazarus spotted a male leopard in the thick bush. As the grazing sable herd drifted toward him, the leopard, the consummate opportunist, climbed up a tree to assess the situation with singular intent. The two-week old calf, weighing perhaps 30-40 pounds, if somehow became separated from the rest of the herd, would be an easy kill. Despite this exquisite setup, we had to return to camp to meet the rest of our party, who went on mokoro rides, for lunch. An Australian couple, who patiently stayed through the heat of the day, later captured on video an unsuccessful kill attempt by the leopard. The sable calf was indeed somewhat separated from the rest of the herd, and the leopard stalked it from right behind a large termite mound. However, at the last moment as he began his charge, the leopard saw a slightly bigger juvenile sable and turned his attention away from the calf. This last second indecision led to the leopard’s hapless lunging at the bigger juvenile, who along with the calf, got away. He had tried to “bite off more than he could chew”.
That afternoon, the local lion pride was largely ignored by the guests of Little Vumbura and its sister camp, Vumbura Plains. We were all hell bent on finding the beautiful male leopard again. The search party found the leopard not too far from the sable herd of 15. Yes, 15, not 16. The little sable calf was missing. Lazarus speculated that the leopard had probably taken the calf at some point in the afternoon and cached the carcass on a tree. Before they are allowed to join the herd, sable calves are hidden in the thick bush for about two weeks by their mothers. The calf we had seen probably just joined the heard, and thus, is about as young a sable as one can expect to see. We had nicknamed him Bambi. A certain sense of sadness came over us.
Near the airstrip one afternoon, what appeared to be smoke was seen in the distance. Bush fire was my guess, but Lazarus declared, “buffalo”. A herd of perhaps 300 buffalos was on the move, enveloping the plain with dust. Robert Ruark once said buffalos look at you like you owe them money. So true for solitary old bulls, but in a herd they appear almost gentle. The enormity of the herd conjures up images of what the Great Plains of North America must have been like with great herds of bison.
The last morning at Vumbura we decided to take a nature walk led by Brian and his rifle. Our transfer flight was much later in the day, so after the walk, we begged Lazarus for one last short game drive. Within minutes, we encountered the same sable herd. The majestic, jet-black bull was thrashing the bushes around him with his scimitar-shaped horns in classic dominance display. Then, behind one of those bushes appeared the tawny body. The sable calf was alive! Apparently, the calf had been hidden somewhere all this time. It was certainly an uplifting moment and a fitting end for our stay at Vumbura. The fact that our guide’s name was Lazarus had nothing to do with the reemergence of the sable calf, did it?
Sep 14th, 2008, 06:54 PM
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I am enjoying your trip report. What a terrible dilemma for Daryl Balfour, it makes me feel sick just thinking about it. Sadly, these days people would probably be paid big money for film of something dreadful like that so that it could be put on youtube.
I am glad you found the baby sable.
I am glad you found the baby sable.
Sep 15th, 2008, 01:30 AM
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Kwando Lebala Camp, Kwando Concession, Botswana – The Cult of Kwando
A couple of weeks before our departure from the U.S., we were told that the Lebala airstrip in the Kwando concession was flooded and thus unusable. We, therefore, would have to fly into the neighboring Selinda concession and be driven to Lebala Camp (a two-hour drive). For me, it sounded like a two-for-one deal. I would get to see both Selinda and Kwando. What a pain it must be for the guides though, I thought.
When we landed at Selinda, Spencer and his tracker Julius, and Thabo and his tracker P.D., were waiting for us in their two vehicles. Spencer and Thabo asked whether we wanted to drive straight to camp or make the trip into a three or four-hour game drive. We asked for the latter, and to our surprise, they both seemed genuinely pleased. As we would find out for the next three days, Spencer and Thabo, along with their trackers Julius and P.D., would rather go on game drives than do anything else in life.
The Kwando concession has a reputation for predators, and we weren’t disappointed. We saw the local pride of seven lions everyday, and we were lucky to follow a coalition of three young male cheetahs one morning. Wild dogs are always a difficult proposition. While Kwando Lebala used to be “the place” to see them in northern Botswana, the ebb and flow of game being what it is, Lebala probably relinquished the throne in the last few years to the neighboring Kwando Lagoon Camp and the Selinda Reserve.
On our second day, however, Spencer and Thabo were on a mission to find wild dogs, and we were welcome to come along. A pack of seven, dubbed the Lebala pack, was roaming the huge Kwando concession, but the dogs hadn’t been seen the previous three days. One of the females was heavily pregnant, and the pack was likely preparing to den somewhere. If they denned deep in the mopane forest, it may be difficult to see them for quite some time. Spencer and Thabo had to find these dogs and find them now. So, we set off northwest toward Lagoon Camp, where they were last seen. I was in Thabo’s vehicle with P.D. as the tracker. I had more fun watching those two honing in on their prey than anything else: heads constantly turning and checking the road for tracks every few seconds. After about an hour, Thabo found their tracks, but the dogs remained elusive. Spencer and Julius, in the other vehicle, were nearby and constantly in touch with Thabo and P.D. on the radio. Now it was almost mid-day, it was getting hot, and our stomachs were growling. However, no one dared to call off the search. Their enthusiasm was infectious. We, the clients, did not want to disappoint them!
After another 30 minutes, Spencer finally found the pack of seven resting under a tree. I wasn’t in his vehicle, but apparently Spencer and Julius were giddy when they found the dogs. Unfortunately, the dogs were fairly inactive for the time we observed them, but we remembered that it is a true privilege to be in the company of these animals, active or not. The following days produced some other rare sightings: a shy herd of roan antelope emerging from the mopane forest and a honey badger out in the open. Each evening, Hitchcockian flocks of red-billed queleas moved across the horizon, momentarily dimming the sky.
Without any question, game viewing is the “be all and end all” at Kwando Lebala. All else is secondary. Not that they don’t have wonderful tents and food and everything else. But there is a certain culture here… if you see something move, it must be tracked…if there is a pride of lions nearby, dinner must wait. Spencer and Thabo – you get the feeling that if the camp had no guests, these guys would go out on game drives on their own anyhow. They tracked game with the intensity of bloodhounds. They worked us hard. They flat out wore me out (I mean that in a good way). And they were seriously educated and wickedly funny (example: Spencer, having spent six weeks at Lebala and due shortly for an extended leave said, “when I get home, I’ll be like a bull elephant in musth”. Thabo, whenever we didn’t see Spencer’s vehicle for awhile, would remark without batting an eyelash, “oh, Spencer is lost again”.). Their days never ended. They hosted all meals and served as waiters.
Speaking of meals, I must digress here. On our second night we were served banoffee pie, the best safari dessert for my money. The key to a good banoffee pie is making dulce de leche, which is made by caramelizing condensed milk by heating the milk can itself in boiling water. If the can is exposed to air, it can explode, causing serious injury to the chef. I guess it’s a bit like fugu (puff fish), but unlike fugu, the chef, not the customer, bears the risk with banoffee pie. It is certainly a dessert befitting the culture of Kwando.
Our last evening at Kwando Lebala was unforgettable. We located the seven lions resting near a large termite mound. One by one, they rose from their afternoon siestas and ventured out on the floodplain to begin hunting. About ten minutes away from being pitch dark, we could barely make out the figures in the grass getting in formation for the hunt, with red lechwes in the distance. Out of nowhere a young bull elephant appeared on the plain, and a couple of young lions gave the bull a playful chase. The elephant trumpeted angrily several times while running away. Just then, the older females in the pride began to roar as if to warn the young ones, “come back here – that’s too big and dangerous”. With the sounds of the jumbo trumpet and primal roars reverberating across the plain in near darkness, it was a quintessential African moment. I told Andrew, one of the kids in our party who is going off to college this fall, that after what we just witnessed, college would be a big letdown. Andrew agreed wholeheartedly.
A couple of weeks before our departure from the U.S., we were told that the Lebala airstrip in the Kwando concession was flooded and thus unusable. We, therefore, would have to fly into the neighboring Selinda concession and be driven to Lebala Camp (a two-hour drive). For me, it sounded like a two-for-one deal. I would get to see both Selinda and Kwando. What a pain it must be for the guides though, I thought.
When we landed at Selinda, Spencer and his tracker Julius, and Thabo and his tracker P.D., were waiting for us in their two vehicles. Spencer and Thabo asked whether we wanted to drive straight to camp or make the trip into a three or four-hour game drive. We asked for the latter, and to our surprise, they both seemed genuinely pleased. As we would find out for the next three days, Spencer and Thabo, along with their trackers Julius and P.D., would rather go on game drives than do anything else in life.
The Kwando concession has a reputation for predators, and we weren’t disappointed. We saw the local pride of seven lions everyday, and we were lucky to follow a coalition of three young male cheetahs one morning. Wild dogs are always a difficult proposition. While Kwando Lebala used to be “the place” to see them in northern Botswana, the ebb and flow of game being what it is, Lebala probably relinquished the throne in the last few years to the neighboring Kwando Lagoon Camp and the Selinda Reserve.
On our second day, however, Spencer and Thabo were on a mission to find wild dogs, and we were welcome to come along. A pack of seven, dubbed the Lebala pack, was roaming the huge Kwando concession, but the dogs hadn’t been seen the previous three days. One of the females was heavily pregnant, and the pack was likely preparing to den somewhere. If they denned deep in the mopane forest, it may be difficult to see them for quite some time. Spencer and Thabo had to find these dogs and find them now. So, we set off northwest toward Lagoon Camp, where they were last seen. I was in Thabo’s vehicle with P.D. as the tracker. I had more fun watching those two honing in on their prey than anything else: heads constantly turning and checking the road for tracks every few seconds. After about an hour, Thabo found their tracks, but the dogs remained elusive. Spencer and Julius, in the other vehicle, were nearby and constantly in touch with Thabo and P.D. on the radio. Now it was almost mid-day, it was getting hot, and our stomachs were growling. However, no one dared to call off the search. Their enthusiasm was infectious. We, the clients, did not want to disappoint them!
After another 30 minutes, Spencer finally found the pack of seven resting under a tree. I wasn’t in his vehicle, but apparently Spencer and Julius were giddy when they found the dogs. Unfortunately, the dogs were fairly inactive for the time we observed them, but we remembered that it is a true privilege to be in the company of these animals, active or not. The following days produced some other rare sightings: a shy herd of roan antelope emerging from the mopane forest and a honey badger out in the open. Each evening, Hitchcockian flocks of red-billed queleas moved across the horizon, momentarily dimming the sky.
Without any question, game viewing is the “be all and end all” at Kwando Lebala. All else is secondary. Not that they don’t have wonderful tents and food and everything else. But there is a certain culture here… if you see something move, it must be tracked…if there is a pride of lions nearby, dinner must wait. Spencer and Thabo – you get the feeling that if the camp had no guests, these guys would go out on game drives on their own anyhow. They tracked game with the intensity of bloodhounds. They worked us hard. They flat out wore me out (I mean that in a good way). And they were seriously educated and wickedly funny (example: Spencer, having spent six weeks at Lebala and due shortly for an extended leave said, “when I get home, I’ll be like a bull elephant in musth”. Thabo, whenever we didn’t see Spencer’s vehicle for awhile, would remark without batting an eyelash, “oh, Spencer is lost again”.). Their days never ended. They hosted all meals and served as waiters.
Speaking of meals, I must digress here. On our second night we were served banoffee pie, the best safari dessert for my money. The key to a good banoffee pie is making dulce de leche, which is made by caramelizing condensed milk by heating the milk can itself in boiling water. If the can is exposed to air, it can explode, causing serious injury to the chef. I guess it’s a bit like fugu (puff fish), but unlike fugu, the chef, not the customer, bears the risk with banoffee pie. It is certainly a dessert befitting the culture of Kwando.
Our last evening at Kwando Lebala was unforgettable. We located the seven lions resting near a large termite mound. One by one, they rose from their afternoon siestas and ventured out on the floodplain to begin hunting. About ten minutes away from being pitch dark, we could barely make out the figures in the grass getting in formation for the hunt, with red lechwes in the distance. Out of nowhere a young bull elephant appeared on the plain, and a couple of young lions gave the bull a playful chase. The elephant trumpeted angrily several times while running away. Just then, the older females in the pride began to roar as if to warn the young ones, “come back here – that’s too big and dangerous”. With the sounds of the jumbo trumpet and primal roars reverberating across the plain in near darkness, it was a quintessential African moment. I told Andrew, one of the kids in our party who is going off to college this fall, that after what we just witnessed, college would be a big letdown. Andrew agreed wholeheartedly.
Sep 15th, 2008, 06:15 AM
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Safaridude,
What a well written report!!! It's a delight to read your report. No surprises here - you were in good hands with Spencer and Julius and CO. If there are animals to see and find - that's what you will be doing. Finally, a report that talks about the reasons of being out on safari aka the gameviewing.
Quick question - pride of 7 lions. Did Spencer refer to them as the Selinda pride? or do you think they are a different pride?
Oh! and I'm hoping the dogs picked a den by now close by. You also had good luck with the new cheetah coalition.
Rgds
Hari
What a well written report!!! It's a delight to read your report. No surprises here - you were in good hands with Spencer and Julius and CO. If there are animals to see and find - that's what you will be doing. Finally, a report that talks about the reasons of being out on safari aka the gameviewing.
Quick question - pride of 7 lions. Did Spencer refer to them as the Selinda pride? or do you think they are a different pride?
Oh! and I'm hoping the dogs picked a den by now close by. You also had good luck with the new cheetah coalition.
Rgds
Hari
Sep 15th, 2008, 06:19 AM
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Great report, looking forward to Kafue (where I have not visited). I have been to the Okavango and Ongava, and I didn't realize that Ongava had waterbuck, which I didn't think were native to Namibia (but I stand corrected).
Michael
Michael
Sep 15th, 2008, 05:07 PM
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Hari, Thabo thought the seven lions were a new group from the mopane woodlands (south from Lebala). They were very tame, so obviously they have had encounters with vehicles from somewhere.
Michael, the waterbucks were imported into Ongava. They are doing well, but they don't belong there. As you may know, black-faced impalas were also introduced there (they were never in Etosha either... they were introduced therel). Hartmann's mountain zebras used to roam Ongava. They were RE-introduced.
Michael, the waterbucks were imported into Ongava. They are doing well, but they don't belong there. As you may know, black-faced impalas were also introduced there (they were never in Etosha either... they were introduced therel). Hartmann's mountain zebras used to roam Ongava. They were RE-introduced.
Sep 15th, 2008, 05:11 PM
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Lufupa Tented Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – Into “Heart of Darkness” with Barry, the River Man
I had been wishing to visit Kafue National Park for 10-15 years. I love the miombo woodlands -- the mosaic of vegetation zones and the attendant spectacular antelopes and birds. Unfortunately, Kafue had been nearly poached out and hence never considered as a great safari destination. The situation changed dramatically a few years ago when Kafue received significant financial assistance from international donors. Wilderness Safaris, one of the premier ground operators in Africa, moved into Kafue shortly thereafter, making it much easier for one to visit Kafue.
This was my first time in Zambia, and I loved it. I loved the people the most. Zambians, for the most part, are not tribal. Aside from the urbanites in Lusaka, Livingstone and some mining towns, they are generally rural farmers. Could Zambians be the sweetest people in Africa? They are so sweet that if you gave them an award for being the sweetest, they would probably try to give the award away to someone else. When we landed in Livingstone, we learned of the death a few days before of Levy Mwanawasa, Zambia’s president. He was dearly loved by his people for his kindness, leadership and his unrelenting stance against corruption. Livingstone was somber.
Lufupa Tented Camp is a Wilderness Safaris property and marketed mostly for their “Exploration” trips. It is much more low-key than their typically luxurious camps, and it’s just the way I like it. The camp sits right on the edge of the banks of Lufupa River. The surrounding area consists of thick miombo forests, combretum woodlands, and dambos (low-lying drainage areas that are open, often with hundreds of small termite mounds). J.D. and Laura are enthusiastic hosts.
Pukus and impalas are the dominant herbivores around the dambos. We also spotted greater kudu, waterbuck, bushbuck, Lichtenstein’s hartebeest, and Sharpe’s grysbok. Because of the preponderance of pukus and impalas and the low density of lions and hyenas, the Lufupa area is an excellent habitat for leopards. Our night drives did not disappoint. We saw two leopards within seconds of each other. Our guide Robert surmised that they might have been a mating pair. Other rare night drive sightings included porcupine, white-tailed mongoose, genet, civet and honey badger.
One of the unique features of Lufupa Tented Camp is the ability to offer boat cruises on the Lufupa River. This is not to be missed. About ten minutes before tea in the afternoon, a faint sound of a motor disrupts the tranquility of the main mess area. Within moments, Barry, the captain, can be seen smiling and waiving from a double-decker boat. Having been cruising the Lufupa for 20+ years, Barry speaks excellent English, has a keen sense of humor, and knows every nook and cranny of the Lufupa.
This is probably a sacrilege, but the Lufupa boat cruise feels a bit like the Jungle Cruise at Disneyworld. Of course, one is about eleven billion times better. Big pods of real hippos and giant crocodiles, along with an array of birdlife including the African darter, fish eagle, crowned crane, hamerkop, heron, egret, and white-fronted bee-eater, were seen. Lufupa River is magic. Unlike most other African rivers that are bordered by floodplains, the Lufupa is canopied on both sides by thick riverine vegetation. There is humidity in the air and the occasional tsetse fly – all contributing to a sense of eeriness. A bewitching scene such as this is what must have inspired Joseph Conrad’s novel.
“Heart of Darkness” would correctly describe the breeding herd of elephants we encountered following the boat ride. Although poaching has been reduced to nothing in the past few years in Kafue, they say elephants never forget, and Kafue’s elephants remain notoriously “cheeky”. Knowledge has probably passed on for generations amongst them that vehicles equal poachers. One afternoon when we approached too close, the breeding herd formed a phalanx and charged our vehicle. I had seen mock-charging elephants on numerous occasions elsewhere in Africa, but his one seemed real. “Personal space” for Kafue’s elephants, it seems, remains vast.
Aside from the elephants, I was pleasantly surprised at how tame the general game was in Kafue. No doubt the anti-poaching efforts were paying off. It is now a perfect combination of the wild and the tame. With many safari operators looking to expand into Kafue, the future of Kafue is now. These are Kafue’s halcyon days.
Busanga Bush Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – Africa Wins Again
That safaris are conducted at all on the Busanga plain is a wonder in itself. From November to April, this most northerly section of Kafue is inundated with water – waste-high in some places. Most of the camp infrastructure has to be rebuilt every year at the start of the season in April/May. It is difficult to come up with another safari destination that is more exacting on camp operators. Of course, this does nothing other than to add to Busanga’s mystique and boost the will of the operators. Wilderness Safaris is just insane enough to run four out of the five camps on the plain.
Even in late August, there are numerous water channels on the Busanga, making road travel difficult. Guests staying at the Wilderness camps initially fly into the Busanga airstrip on the edge of the plain, and then they are helicoptered to the front door of the camp. From the chopper, you can feel the immensity of the plain. Papyrus reeds dominate the northern section. The southern section is composed of open expanses dotted with large termite mounds. In the distance, you can see the “tree line” where the plain ends and the miombo forest begins.
Busanga Bush Camp is situated on a large termite island, which happens to be the heart of the territory of the lion pride aptly named the Busanga pride. We saw the pride every day. There are two other known prides on the plain. Red lechwes and pukus abound, and they are the principal food source for the Busanga pride. Despite the lack of cover, these lions have made lechwe and puku hunting into an art form. Often, male lions will stand out in the open roaring, prompting lechwes and pukus to focus their attention on the conspicuous males while female lions stalk from behind. Whether intentional or not, the local guides believe these males are used as decoys.
Further south from camp, closer to the southern “tree line”, zebras (the local Boehm’s race with narrow stripes), wildebeests, Lichtenstein’s hartebeests and buffalos are more easily seen. The roan antelope, rare and shy elsewhere, are plentiful and inexplicably tame. One solitary bull was so relaxed that he urinated in front of our vehicle while looking at us for what must what seemed like an eternity (“u-roan-ation?”). Along the southern tree line, we were lucky to spot a leopard with a puku kill on a tree one morning.
Between Lufupa and Busanga, northern Kafue has to be the best birding destination I have ever been to. Aside from the usual African birds, uncommon wetland birds such as crowned cranes, wattled cranes, open-billed storks, saddle-billed storks are found in large numbers in both areas. Then there are endemic specialties such as the coppery-tailed coucal and Schallow’s turaco.
Busanga Bush Camp is a throwback. It is indeed very “bush”. The showers and toilets are open-air, only surrounded by eight-foot thatched walls. The dining boma is also “old-school” except for a spectacular bush chandelier, created every night by hanging lanterns on a wrought iron candleholder, which is in turn hung on a tree limb. The Busanga pride often comes right through camp. Every staffer has an interesting lion encounter to tell. Gary and Ellen hosted us for two nights as relief managers. On our last night, Phil and Sara returned from their leave. Along with Benson, the guide trainee, the entire staff delivered luxury along with “bush”.
While I had a good viewing of sable antelopes in Botswana, I still had a yearning to see the Zambian sable. Zambian sables are morphologically different from other races of the common sable. They have distinct facial markings resembling those of the giant sable (a totally separate species) in Angola, and they possess the largest horns among the common sable races – prompting some to incorrectly hypothesize that they may actually be related to the giant sable. What began as a wish turned into an obsession as each morning we scanned the tree lines for sable. Unfortunately, tree lines are where tsetse flies are encountered. And as the flies are more active during the heat of the day, we would turn back to the plain as the day warmed. It turned out that the Zambian sable was the one thing on the wish list that eluded me on this trip.
By the campfire on our last night, as he kept his head on a swivel watching out for lions, Phil told us of a professional photographer who spent several days at Busanga earlier in the year and was keen on photographing something “extraordinary”. One afternoon, Phil located a pride of ten lions and asked if the photographer wanted to go see them. For whatever reason, the photographer declined to come along. What ensued was truly “extraordinary”. The ten lions surrounded a termite island where a leopard had a puku kill. As the lions moved in to steal the kill, the lone leopard took on all ten of them in the thick bush. After much growling and tussling, the lone leopard escaped up a tree, only to venture down later for more combat as if he had a death wish. Just when Phil was convinced that he would soon see a dead leopard, the leopard climbed up the tree again unscathed, only to come down again later for more battle. After a few rounds of this, one by one the lions walked out of the termite island with heads held low. Each lion bore bloody scars on its face, but not a single blemish was seen on the spotted victor. The leopard’s supreme athleticism had won out. The lions and the photographer lost.
On our last day, we were helicoptered to the Busanga airstrip for our charter flight. While waiting for the plane, we were ushered a hundred yard or so to a mess tent designed for waiting passengers. Chris was the mess tent attendant, and I asked him if game ever came around the airstrip area. He said in that perfectly glorious African accent, “yes, we get seh-bul, rone, and ele-faant”. I jumped immediately, “sable”? Chris replied, “yes, we get them in de mo-ning and at sixteen hahn-dred a-wahs.” Well, I chuckled to myself, because Africa had won again. But as every devoted Africaphile knows, Africa does this on purpose. It gives you almost everything but holds something back… to ensure that you come back yearning for more.
I had been wishing to visit Kafue National Park for 10-15 years. I love the miombo woodlands -- the mosaic of vegetation zones and the attendant spectacular antelopes and birds. Unfortunately, Kafue had been nearly poached out and hence never considered as a great safari destination. The situation changed dramatically a few years ago when Kafue received significant financial assistance from international donors. Wilderness Safaris, one of the premier ground operators in Africa, moved into Kafue shortly thereafter, making it much easier for one to visit Kafue.
This was my first time in Zambia, and I loved it. I loved the people the most. Zambians, for the most part, are not tribal. Aside from the urbanites in Lusaka, Livingstone and some mining towns, they are generally rural farmers. Could Zambians be the sweetest people in Africa? They are so sweet that if you gave them an award for being the sweetest, they would probably try to give the award away to someone else. When we landed in Livingstone, we learned of the death a few days before of Levy Mwanawasa, Zambia’s president. He was dearly loved by his people for his kindness, leadership and his unrelenting stance against corruption. Livingstone was somber.
Lufupa Tented Camp is a Wilderness Safaris property and marketed mostly for their “Exploration” trips. It is much more low-key than their typically luxurious camps, and it’s just the way I like it. The camp sits right on the edge of the banks of Lufupa River. The surrounding area consists of thick miombo forests, combretum woodlands, and dambos (low-lying drainage areas that are open, often with hundreds of small termite mounds). J.D. and Laura are enthusiastic hosts.
Pukus and impalas are the dominant herbivores around the dambos. We also spotted greater kudu, waterbuck, bushbuck, Lichtenstein’s hartebeest, and Sharpe’s grysbok. Because of the preponderance of pukus and impalas and the low density of lions and hyenas, the Lufupa area is an excellent habitat for leopards. Our night drives did not disappoint. We saw two leopards within seconds of each other. Our guide Robert surmised that they might have been a mating pair. Other rare night drive sightings included porcupine, white-tailed mongoose, genet, civet and honey badger.
One of the unique features of Lufupa Tented Camp is the ability to offer boat cruises on the Lufupa River. This is not to be missed. About ten minutes before tea in the afternoon, a faint sound of a motor disrupts the tranquility of the main mess area. Within moments, Barry, the captain, can be seen smiling and waiving from a double-decker boat. Having been cruising the Lufupa for 20+ years, Barry speaks excellent English, has a keen sense of humor, and knows every nook and cranny of the Lufupa.
This is probably a sacrilege, but the Lufupa boat cruise feels a bit like the Jungle Cruise at Disneyworld. Of course, one is about eleven billion times better. Big pods of real hippos and giant crocodiles, along with an array of birdlife including the African darter, fish eagle, crowned crane, hamerkop, heron, egret, and white-fronted bee-eater, were seen. Lufupa River is magic. Unlike most other African rivers that are bordered by floodplains, the Lufupa is canopied on both sides by thick riverine vegetation. There is humidity in the air and the occasional tsetse fly – all contributing to a sense of eeriness. A bewitching scene such as this is what must have inspired Joseph Conrad’s novel.
“Heart of Darkness” would correctly describe the breeding herd of elephants we encountered following the boat ride. Although poaching has been reduced to nothing in the past few years in Kafue, they say elephants never forget, and Kafue’s elephants remain notoriously “cheeky”. Knowledge has probably passed on for generations amongst them that vehicles equal poachers. One afternoon when we approached too close, the breeding herd formed a phalanx and charged our vehicle. I had seen mock-charging elephants on numerous occasions elsewhere in Africa, but his one seemed real. “Personal space” for Kafue’s elephants, it seems, remains vast.
Aside from the elephants, I was pleasantly surprised at how tame the general game was in Kafue. No doubt the anti-poaching efforts were paying off. It is now a perfect combination of the wild and the tame. With many safari operators looking to expand into Kafue, the future of Kafue is now. These are Kafue’s halcyon days.
Busanga Bush Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia – Africa Wins Again
That safaris are conducted at all on the Busanga plain is a wonder in itself. From November to April, this most northerly section of Kafue is inundated with water – waste-high in some places. Most of the camp infrastructure has to be rebuilt every year at the start of the season in April/May. It is difficult to come up with another safari destination that is more exacting on camp operators. Of course, this does nothing other than to add to Busanga’s mystique and boost the will of the operators. Wilderness Safaris is just insane enough to run four out of the five camps on the plain.
Even in late August, there are numerous water channels on the Busanga, making road travel difficult. Guests staying at the Wilderness camps initially fly into the Busanga airstrip on the edge of the plain, and then they are helicoptered to the front door of the camp. From the chopper, you can feel the immensity of the plain. Papyrus reeds dominate the northern section. The southern section is composed of open expanses dotted with large termite mounds. In the distance, you can see the “tree line” where the plain ends and the miombo forest begins.
Busanga Bush Camp is situated on a large termite island, which happens to be the heart of the territory of the lion pride aptly named the Busanga pride. We saw the pride every day. There are two other known prides on the plain. Red lechwes and pukus abound, and they are the principal food source for the Busanga pride. Despite the lack of cover, these lions have made lechwe and puku hunting into an art form. Often, male lions will stand out in the open roaring, prompting lechwes and pukus to focus their attention on the conspicuous males while female lions stalk from behind. Whether intentional or not, the local guides believe these males are used as decoys.
Further south from camp, closer to the southern “tree line”, zebras (the local Boehm’s race with narrow stripes), wildebeests, Lichtenstein’s hartebeests and buffalos are more easily seen. The roan antelope, rare and shy elsewhere, are plentiful and inexplicably tame. One solitary bull was so relaxed that he urinated in front of our vehicle while looking at us for what must what seemed like an eternity (“u-roan-ation?”). Along the southern tree line, we were lucky to spot a leopard with a puku kill on a tree one morning.
Between Lufupa and Busanga, northern Kafue has to be the best birding destination I have ever been to. Aside from the usual African birds, uncommon wetland birds such as crowned cranes, wattled cranes, open-billed storks, saddle-billed storks are found in large numbers in both areas. Then there are endemic specialties such as the coppery-tailed coucal and Schallow’s turaco.
Busanga Bush Camp is a throwback. It is indeed very “bush”. The showers and toilets are open-air, only surrounded by eight-foot thatched walls. The dining boma is also “old-school” except for a spectacular bush chandelier, created every night by hanging lanterns on a wrought iron candleholder, which is in turn hung on a tree limb. The Busanga pride often comes right through camp. Every staffer has an interesting lion encounter to tell. Gary and Ellen hosted us for two nights as relief managers. On our last night, Phil and Sara returned from their leave. Along with Benson, the guide trainee, the entire staff delivered luxury along with “bush”.
While I had a good viewing of sable antelopes in Botswana, I still had a yearning to see the Zambian sable. Zambian sables are morphologically different from other races of the common sable. They have distinct facial markings resembling those of the giant sable (a totally separate species) in Angola, and they possess the largest horns among the common sable races – prompting some to incorrectly hypothesize that they may actually be related to the giant sable. What began as a wish turned into an obsession as each morning we scanned the tree lines for sable. Unfortunately, tree lines are where tsetse flies are encountered. And as the flies are more active during the heat of the day, we would turn back to the plain as the day warmed. It turned out that the Zambian sable was the one thing on the wish list that eluded me on this trip.
By the campfire on our last night, as he kept his head on a swivel watching out for lions, Phil told us of a professional photographer who spent several days at Busanga earlier in the year and was keen on photographing something “extraordinary”. One afternoon, Phil located a pride of ten lions and asked if the photographer wanted to go see them. For whatever reason, the photographer declined to come along. What ensued was truly “extraordinary”. The ten lions surrounded a termite island where a leopard had a puku kill. As the lions moved in to steal the kill, the lone leopard took on all ten of them in the thick bush. After much growling and tussling, the lone leopard escaped up a tree, only to venture down later for more combat as if he had a death wish. Just when Phil was convinced that he would soon see a dead leopard, the leopard climbed up the tree again unscathed, only to come down again later for more battle. After a few rounds of this, one by one the lions walked out of the termite island with heads held low. Each lion bore bloody scars on its face, but not a single blemish was seen on the spotted victor. The leopard’s supreme athleticism had won out. The lions and the photographer lost.
On our last day, we were helicoptered to the Busanga airstrip for our charter flight. While waiting for the plane, we were ushered a hundred yard or so to a mess tent designed for waiting passengers. Chris was the mess tent attendant, and I asked him if game ever came around the airstrip area. He said in that perfectly glorious African accent, “yes, we get seh-bul, rone, and ele-faant”. I jumped immediately, “sable”? Chris replied, “yes, we get them in de mo-ning and at sixteen hahn-dred a-wahs.” Well, I chuckled to myself, because Africa had won again. But as every devoted Africaphile knows, Africa does this on purpose. It gives you almost everything but holds something back… to ensure that you come back yearning for more.
Sep 16th, 2008, 05:14 AM
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Thanks, I had thought black-faced impala were endemic to Etosha, at least according to the guides that I read (I'll do some more research on that -- the park, or at least guides and websites about the park, certainly advertises the black-faced impala as an Etosha special).
That's unfortunate news about the waterbuck being brought into Ongava -- its not like they are an endangered species that warrant special protection, such as introducing them into a foreign area.
That's unfortunate news about the waterbuck being brought into Ongava -- its not like they are an endangered species that warrant special protection, such as introducing them into a foreign area.
Sep 16th, 2008, 05:26 AM
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That was a great report, thanks.
Last year we went to Namibia and Ongava was top on our list, but we planned too late (in May for an August holiday) and it was imposible to get a room there, so we settled for Epacha Game Lodge wich was good but not nearly as wonderful as your description of Ongava.
I also thought the black-faced impala was endemic in Etosha, that's how I recall it was explained to us.
Last year we went to Namibia and Ongava was top on our list, but we planned too late (in May for an August holiday) and it was imposible to get a room there, so we settled for Epacha Game Lodge wich was good but not nearly as wonderful as your description of Ongava.
I also thought the black-faced impala was endemic in Etosha, that's how I recall it was explained to us.
