Most people who have never been to southern Africa are not aware that there is a very big lake on the Zambezi River called Lake Kariba. “Kariba” as the locals call it was, at the completion of its construction in 1960, the largest man-made lake in the world. It is four times the size of the notable Three Gorges Dam in China. From the small town built on the hills overlooking the dam wall, the lake stretches 140 miles (290km) to the southeast and is about 20 miles (32km) wide on average.
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| Map shows Lake Kariba - Zambia to the north, Zimbabwe to the south |
The massive project was undertaken to provide hydroelectric power for the growing industries of Zimbabwe and Zambia. Two power stations, one on the Zambian bank and the other on the Zimbabwean side are in full operation. Covering an area of 5,580 square kilometers (2,150 sq mi), its storage capacity is an immense 185 cubic kilometers (44.4 cu mi). The lake began to fill in 1958 and would become a year-round source of water for an abundance of animal and bird life, and a sunny playground for both local and foreign tourists. In places the lake is over 300 feet (90M) deep. A large commercial fishing industry developed here providing tons of sardine-like “kapenta” which provides a significant source of protein for a predominantly African clientele. There are huge populations of hippo and Nile crocodile in residence here and on the shorelines and major Game Reserves on the southern shore have incredible populations of wildlife.
The history of the construction of this engineering marvel, the story of the taming of the “River God” Nyaminyami, and the story of one of the most impressive wildlife rescue operations (Operation Noah) ever carried out in Africa, make for interesting reading. As the waters rose to flood the valley, over 5,000 animals were rescued, including 35 different mammal species and 44 black rhino. Frightened creatures ranging from elephant to snakes were captured for release into areas that now form Matusadona National Park and Chete Safari Area.
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| February 1970, two flood gates open |
My first visit to Kariba was between Christmas 1966 and the New Year. I was on a trip to “Rhodesia” from my home, at the time, in Grahamstown, South Africa where I was working at Rhodes University. My friend Andrew Campbell-Watt who had been a fellow student at Rhodes, was living in Salisbury at the time. He and I undertook a tour in my red Volkswagen Beetle and our first destination was Lake Kariba. It was love at first sight for me and after I moved to Rhodesia the following July, it would be the scene of a number of memorable experiences.
One of the most striking things about the lake is its huge size. There are times when you are in a small boat that you lose sight of the shore completely and have to navigate by compass (or GPS today!). A ferry boat service runs from one end of the lake to the other and it is usually an overnight journey of 12 hours. To put its size in perspective, traveling from one end to the other would be a similar distance as driving from Colorado Springs to Cheyenne, Wyoming.
December is the middle of the hottest season of the year, and the Zambezi River Valley can be extremely hot and uncomfortable. Cooling lake breezes offer relief from the heat. Viewing wildlife, particularly elephant from a boat, allows you to drift up close and the animals seem less threatened than when observed from the land. In August 1971, when our infant son was just four months old, Joan and I flew with my brother John in a Cessna for a weekend visit to Bumi Hills Lodge in the Matusadona National Park on the south shore of the lake. With us was my younger brother David who was 16 years old and visiting from South Africa during a school break. Bumi Hills was later re-built as a much more modern (and expensive) hotel but at the time it was fairly rustic. The only way to reach the hotel was by boat or by aircraft. Flying across the remote African bush from Salisbury (now Harare) and then being able to fly over the dam and above the massive dam wall in the gorge was pretty breathtaking. A few photos from that visit are shown here.
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| Approaching Bumi Hills from the air - August 1971. |
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| The old Bumi Hills in 1971 |
A later visit to Lake Kariba came in July 1986. Joan had passed away in December 1985 and I took Alan (then 15), Graham (13) and Carol (12) back to Zimbabwe for a five week visit. We stayed with their grandfather in Harare but old friends took us with them to the lake for a one week camping trip. Jim and Jacquie Weller and their two sons, Nigel (then 16) and Phillip (14) had a motorboat which we packed with provisions and supplies. We launched the boat from Andora Harbour at Kariba and made the 20 mile crossing to the Matusadona National Park twice to get everyone and all the supplies to the camping area at Tashinga. Typical of Zimbabwe National Parks, this camp ground, despite its remoteness, had very nice showers and ablutions. We pitched our tents and cooked over wood fires on grills that were set up for that purpose.
This was a memorable adventure for our family. Our camp was about 200 yards from the lake shore across a gently sloping area of open grass. During the days we would go out fishing and game viewing, usually returning in the late afternoon. Elephant and hippo could be seen most of the time and buffalo would graze across the open area near our tents. One evening I remember we had asked the four boys to bring everything back from the boat when the sun had already set. After a while we heard this young voice calling, “Dad, there’s a buffalo standing on the path! We can’t get back to camp.”
We answered with some sage advice, suggesting they be patient and wait until the buffalo moved on. Ten or fifteen minutes later the boys got back safely.
Late one night I heard a noise next to my tent (a pup tent for me) and picking up my torch (flashlight) I lifted the flap of the tent and came face to face with a huge Cape buffalo bull eating grass about ten feet away. He looked even more “huge” of course because I was lying on the ground and looking up at him. Eventually he wandered away and peace was restored.
On a few occasions I had to take a commercial airline flight from Harare to Kariba and on one trip the pilot had to buzz the airfield to chase a herd of elephant away, before he could land safely. This was, evidently, a common occurrence.
One of my most memorable visits to Lake Kariba was in September 1978. A friend, Rudi Cassette, and I flew to Kariba on the afternoon of September 2nd. We spent much of the following day meeting with clients who were planning to construct a fish-canning plant near the town of Kariba. Rudi was our company Research & Development representative and we met with Lauris Zuchinni of Liebigs Foods. Our discussions went well and ended after a lengthy tour of the proposed factory site and a light lunch at one of the local hotels. Lauris had planned to fly back to Salisbury later that afternoon on a regularly scheduled Air Rhodesia Vickers Viscount. Rudi and I had scheduled to fly back to the city the next morning because that flight had been fully booked.
That evening we booked a “sunset cruise” and went out on the lake with a dozen other guests, sipped some wine and watched the orange sun sink into the lake. It was cool and calm and enjoyable and the surface of the lake was like glass. We were able to sail up close to several commercial fishing rigs and watched as they hauled up large nets full of glistening kapenta. We returned to our hotel at Caribbea Bay, and retired for the night.
The next morning we met at breakfast and became aware of much intense discussion at other tables. A phone call came for me from my boss in Harare. He asked, “Have you heard what happened?” I, of course, had no idea what they were talking about.
My boss told me that the Air Rhodesia Flight 825, which had departed from Kariba the previous afternoon had been shot down by terrorists (called “guerillas” by the politically correct crowd) using a Strela 2 ground-to-air missile. This was a civilian flight and although some passengers survived, our friend and customer Lauris Zuchinni had been killed. He was a friend and an extraordinarily talented engineer. The incident had been on the news the previous night but because we had gone out on the lake and then straight to bed when we returned, neither of us had heard anything about it.
We of course, quickly changed our plans and were able to rent a car and made the six hour drive back to the city in a convoy, escorted by armed vehicles manned by Police Reservists. I had originally scheduled our return to town on Flight 825 but waited too late to make the reservation. You can read about the shooting down of Flight RH825 on Wikipedia and in other news accounts on Google. Five months later, on February 12, 1979, another civilian aircraft (RH827) was struck by a similar missile en-route from Kariba to Salisbury, killing all 59 passengers.
Twenty-eight years after our 1971 flying visit to Bumi Hills, in August 1999, Jan and I returned to Zimbabwe and, together with old friends Barry and Hilary Blair and Jacquie Weller we shared the rental of a large boat (The Stormvogel) on the lake, spending five days exploring the shoreline and watching the huge numbers of game animals and birds that populate this magical place. While anchored in an inlet in the Matusadona area, we took two small dinghies across the bay and walked up the hill to the new Bumi Hills Lodge to have lunch. Along the way we had to stand quietly and wait for a mother elephant and her calf to stroll across the road in front of us. Then we watched a warthog digging for bulbs and roots in the manicured lawn of the hotel.
At nearby Tashinga, a National Parks Wildlife station and camping area, we enjoyed walking with a group of young black rhinos. These orphans had been saved from poachers and were being taking out each day to feed, attended by a game ranger. One morning, while we were having breakfast on the deck of the yacht we watched a huge crocodile glide slowly across the water below us. The previous night we had heard lions roaring in the distance. Listening to the short-wave radio the next morning we learned that an 18 year-old British intern at a safari camp had been attacked and killed by a lame, and very hungry, lioness. He was dragged from his tent shortly after turning in. This kind of tragic event is rare in African Safari camps, but it illustrates how wild and remote the wilderness areas around Kariba are.
So, Kariba holds a special place in over six decades of my memories. Africa is not generally associated with tales of adventures on water. But Kariba is a unique area and anyone who may ever have an opportunity to visit it should not pass it up.
