Gomo Gomo to Kruger National Park

A stop at PicknPay in Hoedspruit

After renting our eight-seater Hyundai (a very comfortable vehicle!) in Hoedspruit, our first stop was at the Standard Bank to convert US dollars into Rand.  Then we made the first of many visits to the PicknPay to buy travel essentials:  biscuits (cookies) and snack food, water (although we could drink tap water), a Coke Light and naartjies (tangerines).  It was interesting to mix with the African people and note the differences in customs and cultures.  For instance, check-out clerks sit down as they scan groceries and there is a charge for the plastic bags to carry the purchases. We found many examples of recycling and conservation conscious policies during our trip.

We drove north from Hoedspruit on the highway to the Phalaborwa Gate and the entrance to Kruger National Park (KNP).  

One of the first animals we saw in KNP - a baboon

The Kruger National Park is one of the largest game reserves in Africa. It covers 19,485 square kilometres (7,523 sq miles) and extends 360 kilometres (220 mi) from north to south and 65 kilometres (40 mi) from east to west, not including the Private Reserves which adjoin it on the west side. To the west and south of the Kruger National Park are the two South African provinces of Limpopo and Mpumalanga. In the north is Zimbabwe, and to the east is Mozambique. It is now part of the Great Limpopo Transfrontier Park, a peace park that links Kruger National Park with the Gonarezhou National Park in Zimbabwe, and with the Limpopo National Park in Mozambique. Gomo Gomo, where we had spent four wonderful days is in the Klaserie Private Reserve which is now part of the Greater Kruger Park Wildlife Management area.  The objective in spending three nights in the Kruger Park was to be able to see what a unique conservation area it is and to experience its wildlife while self-driving.

A Ground Hornbill

One of the oldest in the world, Kruger National Park (KNP) was first designated a Government Wildlife Park in 1898 before being expanded and named the Sabi Game Reserve.  It officially became the Kruger National Park in 1926. It receives over a million visitors a year now and is a favorite vacation destination for most South Africans, offering a wide range of affordable accommodation from basic camping, to RV’s, cottages and luxury lodges. It is important to plan any visit to Kruger Park outside of school holidays!

On our drive through KNP to Letaba Rest Camp we again saw wildlife; ground hornbills, giraffe, rhino, buffalo, elephants and a baboon sitting high on a rock.  We didn’t stop too long for photographs as we had to reach camp before the gates closed at sunset.

We had a bungalow with two bedrooms and two baths for two nights.  Each bedroom had three single beds.  KNP thatched camps are set up for self-catering and each unit has a fully furnished kitchen, dining table and sitting area as well as a covered porch.  There is also a filling station, restaurant, gift shop/grocery store, camping area, ablutions, and washer/dryers.  Guests are cautioned that monkeys, baboons and honey badgers are problematic in the camp so food should be securely stored and doors to bungalows should be kept closed at all times.  Resident bushbucks were wandering around the camp.  We walked along the river path to the restaurant for some dinner and bats flew overhead.   The air was filled with the smell of outdoor cooking from the many self-catering residents and campers.  The seating was outdoors and the night air was quite chilly; our bungalow wasn’t much warmer.  The service was slow—something we noticed everywhere on this trip—and the menu limited.

We rose at 6:00 a.m. Sunday, July 22, and went for a short game drive to the bridge over the Letaba River.  It was cold and we were grateful to be in an enclosed vehicle.  We returned to camp and had breakfast at the restaurant and although we ate indoors, we were still very cold.  Most foreign visitors would not think of Africa being a cold place but if we visit again in July we would bring more suitable, warmer, clothing instead of trying to wear multiple layers to ward off the chill. We decided to buy some bread, peanut butter, jam, cheese and other provisions at the store and we needed to stock up on biscuits before returning to the bungalow.

Carol, Kevin, Jan and Joe once again left camp for a game drive.  Michelle and Avery stayed behind to relax and have a swim.  The day warmed up nicely once the sun came up.  Kevin took the wheel and he too turned on the windshield wipers when he meant to signal a turn and we all laughed. 

Hippo in the Olifants River

We drove the dusty back-roads to Olifants Camp and stopped often to photograph giraffe, elephant, and baboons. Olifants is one of the most picturesque camps in the Kruger National Park.  Joe had visited here in 1958 and, although the camp had been enlarged and modernized somewhat, the spectacular panoramic views over the Olifants River had not changed at all.  CJ became the crocodile and hippo spotter with the aid of binoculars.  They blend in so well with the landscape they are difficult to see with the naked eye.  We stopped for lunch on the veranda at Olifants and enjoyed the beautiful view of the river while we patiently waited for our Greek salads.  On the return to Letaba we spotted a fish eagle and a jacana (lily trotter) as well as many other birds and antelope—yes, more impala.

Little Bee-eater

The bird-life in Kruger Park is quite remarkable and we extended the checks on our list almost hourly.  Some of the bird photos are shown with this narrative.

Pearl Spotted Owl at Satara Camp

Joe and Jan had made plans to meet old friends at Letaba.  They had visited their lovely home in Tzaneen (a two hour drive west of the Park) on a previous trip and they came to KNP to spend a night so they could see us.  We enjoyed a short visit and Joe and Mike toured the elephant museum at Letaba in the afternoon.  The four of us met later for very enjoyable dinner and the hake was delicious.  The family stayed in and had sandwiches and Michelle made a trip to the laundromat.

Everyone packed up early Monday as we left Letaba for Satara Rest Camp.  We stopped again at Olifants Camp for breakfast and enjoyed the game drive along the way.  Again we saw ground hornbills, which are endangered, ho-hums, hippo and crocs, thanks to CJ.  There were a large number of cars parked on and beside the road at one point which indicated something worth seeing.  We followed the lenses and finger pointing and saw a fresh impala kill in a tree in the distance, which meant a leopard was in the area.  We wove our way through the maze of cars and drove on.  We checked into Satara and had to wait for our bungalow which gave us time to explore the gift shop and have a bite of lunch.  A sign pointed out the “most photographed Scops Owl in Africa” sitting in a bush.  The photographers kept up the tradition but then a Pearl Spotted Owl was spotted in a tree near the shop.  A monitor lizard peeked over the roof of the lodge as he slept in the sunshine.

Once we were in our bungalow, similar to the one at Letaba, we went different directions.  CJ, Kevin and Joe went on a game drive, Jan read while she did the laundry and Michelle and Avery visited the swimming pool.  A large herd of waterbuck was seen, a new antelope to check off the list, as well as zebra, impala, elephant, and giraffe.  Kevin was keeping track of game and birds spotted.

We ate in our room for dinner and breakfast the next day.  We had purchased staples and were already a bit tired of “eating out” and spending an hour or more waiting for a meal.  Fruit, PBJ, pasta with butter for Avery, cereal (Wheatbix) and toast filled our tummies.

After breakfast Tuesday we loaded the car and did our final game drive on our way out of KNP through Orpen Gate.  Someone mentioned we hadn’t seen buffalo as we neared the exit and, wouldn't you know, there was a herd just off of the road just a few yards from the gate.  More photos.  We stopped again at the gate shop for a leg stretch and a cup of coffee as we had a long drive ahead.

Gomo Gomo Days 2 & 3

Thursday - we were awake when HJ knocked on our door at 5:30 a.m.  We dressed in our chilly room and enjoyed coffee at the main lodge before leaving on the game drive.  The sun was just brightening the sky each day as we climbed in the Land Rover and as the sun rose the sky was flame colored.  We saw a variety of game this morning:  kudu, wildebeest, giraffe, zebra, rhino and saw vultures circling the lion kill.  But the lions were still there and the carcass odor was becoming more noticeable.
 

We had more delicious meals before the afternoon game drive and welcomed Neil and Lisa Vigars, honeymooners from the UK, to our vehicle.   Our first stop was a visit to the lion kill where the lions were still working on the diminished carcass.  We encountered a herd of elephants, saw hyena, a civet, giant eagle owl, and the ever present impala.  That night we heard lions roar and hyena laugh—the hyena were getting impatient for their turn at the kill.

Friday – In the early morning, while we were having coffee before the game drive we noticed something across the water hole in the dim light.  HJ told us it was the mother of the white lion cub.  She had a drink and then walked along the dam past Avery and Carol’s chalet.  We got in our Land Rover and followed her through the bush.  The second land rover was also following so we went a different direction so we wouldn’t spook her.  We saw a jackal, hyena and a tawny eagle.  We parked at the dam and watched a herd of elephants come down the bank to drink.  It was quite a large herd and we watched them until they turned around and left.  The lions were still at the kill and had dragged the remaining carcass, which was quite fragrant, around the tree where the vultures still waited.  A couple of jackals were prancing back and forth in the distance.

The white lion cub (center and its sibling (left)

Ewan radioed HJ that they had followed the mother lion to the den and had seen the white lion cub.  We raced to the sandy river bed and we too saw the tiny white lion and the tawny sibling staggering around the well hidden den.  Joe was only able to two two unfocused photos.  White lions are very rare in the wild and only occur naturally in this area of the Timbavati and Klaserie Reserves.  They are not albino but have blue eyes.  Joe and Jan saw a lion in 2001 that carried the recessive white lion gene and had read on the Gomo Gomo website that the cub had been born about four weeks ago.  HJ discovered it but the mother had moved the cubs and they hadn’t been seen again until that morning.  (Since then there were regular updates and pictures of the cubs on the Gomo Gomo website http://www.gomogomo.co.za.)

The monkey and steenbok and impala seemed so ordinary after that.  We were all chattering about the amazing white cub sighting sight when we returned to camp.  Michelle had decided to sleep in that morning so she missed seeing it. 

Michelle and Kevin went on the bush walk that morning.  Avery would have liked to go along but the minimum age for the walk was 12.  She had no trouble entertaining herself in camp with a book or swim or just watching the wildlife come to the water hole.  She took many photos with her camera every day.

On the afternoon drive we stopped first at the den in hopes of seeing the white lion cub again.  The mother was sleeping in the sandy river bed but the cubs must have been in the den as we did not see them.  We commented how fortunate we were to have seen it that morning.  Jeffrey left his seat on the fender and walked into the bush to track leopard again and somehow he found it, so we had another sighting.

We had seen four of the “big five,” lion, leopard, rhino, elephant, but so far had not encountered buffalo.  HJ and Jeffrey were on a mission to complete the list.  We drove through the bush and spotted a hyena, but we only paused for a few clicks of the shutter because HJ said he had a better sighting for us to see.  He told us to hold on and sped through the bush.  We bounced on the seats and ducked and swayed to avoid thorny trees and bushes.  We watched as another vehicle navigated a deep narrow ravine and then we followed.  The reward was a big herd of Cape Buffalo (estimated 400 +) coming to a water hole.  They stirred up the dust as they rushed to drink, bellowing and pushing the leaders further and further into the water.  In the fading light the animals continued to come out of the bush and bats flew overhead.

It was near dusk when we parked for “moon-uppers,” rather than sundowners.  The sky glowed with shades of pinks and purples as we chatted around the table and enjoyed cold drinks and snacks.  We stopped once again at the lion kill on the return to camp.  The lions had moved on and jackals and hyena were sharing the remains of the giraffe.  Hyenas have very strong jaws and feast on the bones.

All too soon our final day at Gomo Gomo arrived.  Once again we left camp early Saturday for our last game drive.  We went to the white lion den but there was no sign of the mother or the cubs so HJ said she must have moved them.  But we saw rhino, a herd of about 20 kudu, monkeys, steenbok, impala, a squirrel and even a nocturnal bush baby in the daylight.  Jeffrey spotted a leopard in a distant tree, but it jumped down before we all saw it—a disappointment for Jan who has never seen a leopard in a tree.  We stopped for a long while to watch four hyena casually walking by.  HJ said they were leaving the giraffe kill, dinner over. 

After another hearty breakfast, we shared our Colorado Places photo book with our servers.  They were so curious about the snow and a red barn and asked, “Is that your house?”  Michelle passed out Colorado t-shirts to everyone who had served and cooked for us and Carol had gifts for them as well.  We finished packing and were once again transferred back to Hoedspruit by Barney Smith.  He took us to pick up our rental vehicle, an eight-seater Hyundai van.  The luggage snugly fitted into the cargo space but we each had a window.  Joe took the wheel and managed to drive on the left side of the road, although he switched on the windshield wipers when he meant to use the turn signals.  It took a while to adjust.  

Now we were looking forward to spending three days in the Kruger National Park.  The entire Gomo Gomo experience was fantastic.  Jan and I have been to southern Africa numerous times over the years but the game-viewing experience on this trip was about the best we have had. 

Back to Gomo Gomo - Day One

This is the first in a series of stories and recollections from our 25 day tour of South Africa starting in July 2012.

Since our visit to Gomo Gomo in March 2006 the lodge has changed locations from the Timbavati to the adjacent Klaserie Private Game Reserve.  The newly constructed lodge overlooks a good-size dam and the brick and thatched chalets spread out on either side of the main lodge giving visitors nice views of the game that visits constantly.

The main lodge at Gomo Gomo

We flew from Dulles International Airport in Washington DC on a South Africa Airways (SAA) flight to Johannesburg that took 17 hours, including a one-hour stop to refuel in Dakar, Senegal. Total distance, as the crow flies, is 13,200 kilometers (or 8,184 miles) Dakar is almost exactly halfway. This is a long time to be sitting on a plane but we had many movies and other video programs to keep us entertained. Our group of six checked in to the Holiday Inn Garden Court Hotel adjacent to the O.R. Tambo International Airport (formerly Jan Smuts) after a 5:30 p.m. arrival for a good night’s sleep. After a hearty breakfast we returned to the airport to board an SAA Express plane for the 45 minute flight to Hoedspruit’s Eastgate Airport. Eastgate is the arrival point for most of the Game Lodges in the Timbavati, Klaserie, area, adjoining the Kruger National Park.

Arriving in the “lowveld” is always a special feeling. You are surrounded by the African “bush” and the temperature is warmer at about 1,000 feet above sea level. The seasonally dry acacia and grassy vegetation has a smell and feel that is unique. Stepping off of the plane you find yourself in a different world. We were picked up by Barney Smith of Fun Time Tours (www.funtimetours.co.za) and set out on the 45 minute drive to the lodge. Barney regularly provides this shuttle service for Gomo Gomo and other lodges in the area. Although the road was paved for most of the way the speed limit was 50km/hr (30mph) and it is easy to see why as we began to see wildlife immediately, with impala, giraffe, wildebeest, warthog etc. along the roadside. Turning on to a dirt road we reached the lodge after another ten minutes.  As we pulled up, the staff directed us through the main building onto the expansive deck overlooking the dam.  There to greet us was a small herd of elephant drinking. What a way to start our four day visit to Gomo Gomo!

Elephants welcome us to the lodge

Arriving at about noon, we were greeted by Linda and Ewan, and shown to our respective chalets.  A delicious lunch soon followed (the meals were consistently excellent!) and we had a few hours to explore our surroundings before setting out on an afternoon game-drive at 4:30 p.m. We met H.J. (short for Hendrik Johannes Esterhuizen) who was to be our ranger for the week and Jeffrey, the most excellent tracker, who we had met six years ago. Both of these gentlemen are highly trained wildlife professionals and we would learn a lot from them. They were also experts in finding game for us to observe and photograph. In fact, we came away with the certainty that they are passionate about wildlife and dedicated to providing the best possible “bush experience” for their guests.

The main bedroom in our chalet.

Our chalet was a brick and thatch structure overlooking the dam with really first class facilities.  Full length sliding glass doors opened onto a spacious verandah. There were two bedrooms, one with a queen size bed and the other with twin beds.

The open Land Rover seats up to ten passengers.

We assembled for the afternoon game drive at 4:15 p.m. The six of us, Jan, me, Carol, Kevin, Michelle and Avery (11), had a Land Rover to ourselves.  Ranger HJ drove, while tracker Jeffrey sat on the little seat over the front left headlight. We had been cautioned to dress warmly because; even though the days were warm the nights would be chilly, especially seating in the open vehicle with a breeze in our faces much of the time. Within about ten minutes we were parked beside the carcass of a full grown male giraffe that had been killed the day before. Nine lions were either feeding or resting next to the kill. We were to return to this site each day and watch the carcass shrink and other scavengers arrive to take their turns to feed. As the lions are accustomed to the vehicles, we were able to get very close without disturbing them.  As long as we remained seated, we would not be considered a threat or as a potential meal!

Lions feed on a giraffe kill

Jeffrey gets close to the wildlife

After spending half an hour watching the lion activities we drove on to search for other game and soon came across several elephant, the ever-present impala and the tiny steenbok antelope. As night fell we watched one of the lionesses from the kill come down to a water hole to drink. After refreshments we returned to the giraffe kill to watch the lions snarl and growl over their meal before eventually making our way back to the lodge at about 7:30 p.m.

A welcomed fire and dinner in the boma ends the day

Our first day in the bush would end with an enjoyable dinner served around a huge fire in the adjoining “boma,” an open air area enclosed by hand-cut wood poles lashed together to form a circular fence. We met and chatted with other guests about our day’s experiences.

Retiring for the night we thought it couldn’t get any better than this. Until day two.

Kariba

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.

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.

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.

Approaching Bumi Hills from the air - August 1971.

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.

Elephant Charges

I remember a very old joke from the 1960s rash of silly “elephant” jokes.  Question: What do you do when an elephant charges you? Answer: Put it on your American Express card. Or “what did Tarzan say to Jane when he saw the elephants coming?” “Here come the elephants.”

I have been asked many times whether I have ever been charged by an elephant.  The answer is yes, three times. All three episodes took place in the Gona-re-Zhou Game Reserve in southeastern Zimbabwe during the seven months I spent there in 1968.

The first time wasn’t especially exciting.  I was in my Land Rover, driving on a two-rut road across a very flat and open area when I come up with three bull elephants off to my right.  They weren’t too close but were walking parallel to the road about 100 yards away.  Suddenly, and without any provocation one of the bulls turned and began to run toward me.  I waited until he was about 50 yards away and was ready to accelerate away, when he raised his trunk and skidded to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust. It was a “mock charge.” The bull trumpeted a few times, flapped his ears, kicked up some more dust, then lost interest, and turned to follow his two buddies. I was to learn later that a real serious charge could be recognized by an ears back, head down, full speed sprint towards the “threat,” which, in this instance, was me.  This fellow was just showing off.

The second charge was the scariest. As I have written before, the project I was working on involved rising very early and leaving camp by daylight.  We would carry out our 8 mile traverses and generally be done by the time it got really hot and return to camp by noon.  After a break for lunch, usually around 2:00 p.m., I would head out with my camp assistant Malvern Shumba to an area of the Mozambique countryside that we had not yet explored. I was using an old set of aerial photographs and some very outdated Mozambique maps to try and pinpoint target areas where the tsetse fly population would tend to be high. I was particularly looking for waterholes where elephant would always congregate. Because of the less than ideal conditions when the aerial photos had been taken, much of this area had been under cloud; so many waterholes had been obscured. During the many months I spent in this region of the country I was also compiling a record of the elephant I was seeing, mapping their locations, direction of movement and size and composition of their herds.

Malvern was a tall, lean young African man with a friendly demeanor and an urge to learn. He had a bright set of perfect, white, teeth when he smiled.  17 Years old when I met him, he had a 10^th grade education at a government school near the village where he had been born, close to the tiny rail siding and border post named Malvernia -  for which he had been given his Christian name.  He was particularly proud of his family name “shumba,” which means “lion.”  Malvern’s English was excellent and because he had been born near the Mozambique border he was very helpful in translating the local dialect. Malvern impressed me with his fluency in both written and spoken English.  When I would leave at the end of the month to return to Salisbury (now Harare) for five days, he would present me with a list of four or five books that he always “hoped” I could bring him. Many were school text books. Apart from being good company, he also was very skilled in finding his way back to the Land Rover when the day was cloudy and the sun wasn’t where it should have been in the sky.  On several occasions I know that, without Malvern Shumba along with me, I would still be wandering aimlessly through the Mozambique countryside while the sky overhead would be filled with vultures.

On one overcast and very windy afternoon we came across fresh elephant tracks (spoor) crossing the road.  We pulled off and began to follow them.  It seemed to be a small herd of 10 – 15 elephant, moving slowly through a stand of mopani trees and shrubs.  The thick, dark green, foliage made it hard to see more than a short distance of maybe 20 to 30 yards ahead of us. To make things worse, the brisk wind rustling the leaves made it difficult to detect any sounds of the big animals’ movements. As was my habit I carried a .375 magnum rifle strapped to my shoulder.  Up until now I had never had to use it in self defense. 

An elephant in thick Mopani shrub, Mozambique

After we had covered perhaps two miles Malvern saw the back of one of the elephants through the trees, so we were pretty close. The wind was in our faces and the ground was soft sand, so I rashly thought that the elephant had neither caught our scent nor heard us. Very unexpectedly we heard a crashing of branches and saw the top of an elephant coming at high speed directly towards us.  I forgot to mention that Malvern Shumba could really run.  I began to sprint after him as I caught a glimpse of the elephant’s head bobbing up and down as she charged.  As I ran I swung the rifle off of my shoulder and began to hope for an open space where I might have one clean shot at our pursuer or at least fire a shot into the air to scare her off.  Not too many seconds later (time really flies when you’re having fun) I slowed and turned to face her but she had stopped.  I can only think that she must have had a calf, as mother elephants will rarely distance themselves from their calves.  Her work done, she must have returned to her family group feeling somewhat proud of herself. Two very relieved but winded tsetse control employees returned to their vehicle with their tails between their legs.

The third incident was probably the most dangerous but also the most amusing, if you can look back on a scary situation and joke about it.  The top man in the Tsetse Control division had come to our border camp to have a look at progress and see the area first hand.  Desmond Lovemore was an exceptionally talented biologist and administrator and had earned his reputation through a dozen years of hard work and achievement.  He had arrived in his Land Rover station wagon to spend a few days “in the field.”  On his way through Chipinda Pools, the local Tsetse Control field headquarters, he had picked up the local man-in-charge, Jim Pasqual. Mr. Lovemore wanted to take a drive through an area to the south of our camp that we had not visited. On the map there were three rivers indicated, named respectively Number 1, Number 2 and Number 3 Rivers.  After breakfast five of us got into the Land Rover. Along for the ride was one of the South Africans working with us, Alex Kritzinger, me, my immediate boss, Alec Robertson, Jim Pasqual, and Desmond Lovemore. Thinking back now, it is amazing that I have recalled each of the names but I suspect it is partly a result of the unusual incident that we all shared for several minutes 53 years ago.

Road along the Rhodesia-Mozambique border, May 1968

We followed the border fence (Rhodesia/Mozambique) southwest from our camp for about 20 miles until we came to Number 1 River.  It was a river on the map but in reality it was a dry river course that would only hold water after heavy rains.  I was sitting in the back seat on the right side behind the driver.  Next to me was Alex Kritzinger and behind him in a little side seat right at the back was Jim Pasqual, the smallest of the group.  He was also the most easily prone to hysteria. (My personal assessment.)  We were driving slowly over smooth sandy ground following very faint vehicle tracks.  To our left we could see a sparse tree line, where the river would undoubtedly flow if, or when, it might rain. The trees were dry and leafless, as this was during August, mid way through the winter dry season. 

We were talking among ourselves and not paying too much attention to what seemed a pretty unexceptional and featureless landscape.  Quite suddenly we saw an elephant cow coming out of the trees to our left and heading directly toward us. It was all the more unexpected because it was the first elephant we had seen that day and usually females do not leave their herd groups. She was a fairly young cow, probably eight to ten years old.  She was running at full speed with her ears flattened against her sides and her head down. Mr. Lovemore accelerated and the cow tried to adjust to our movement as she came to a slight rise coming up out of the river bed.  The change in direction and the slight rise caused her to stumble and she went down to her knees in a cloud of dust directly behind us.  We all let out a collective sigh of relief, thinking that was the end of it.  But to our amazement, she clambered to her feet and came after us again. Before we fully realized it she was pulling up right behind the vehicle continuing her hot pursuit.  I looked back as she came to within a few feet of the back window of the station wagon, her head bobbing up and down at a furious rate. By now we must have reached at least 30 miles per hour and she seemed to be keeping up!

I turned quickly to look ahead and felt a sinking feeling when I saw a large dead tree had fallen across the track. From a distance the faint tracks in the sand seemed to go right under the tree.  I turned back to see the cow’s progress begin to slow, as she lost ground.  At the last minute, the tracks led us off to the right of the tree and we were able to cruise around the obstruction without losing speed.  All this time, Jim Pasqual, from his little seat in the back of the vehicle was repeating, hysterically, “he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming.”  As quickly as it had begun, the threat was gone.  For a long time afterwards we tried to speculate why a lone female elephant would have charged a moving vehicle, for such a great distance, and with such incredible persistence.  It may have been that she had been wounded by a poacher or that the sound of a car engine was associated with some traumatic event in her life.

All of the people that I was with that day were far more experienced in animal behavior, particularly elephant behavior, than I was at the time. I was fortunate that this wasn’t something that had happened to me on one of those frequent occasions when I was alone.   It would have been a tough story for anyone to believe. This episode reinforced the adage that animals in the wild can be, at times, completely unpredictable and that elephants really can move at speeds up to 25 mph (40km/hour)!

Animal Encounters - The Buffalo

As I mentioned in an earlier blog I have never been a trophy hunter.  While spending time in the bush however I would occasionally shoot something for the “pot.” Often while in a camp with a lot of laborers the demand for meat was high. Returning to camp after a five day “R&R” at the end of the month my provisions would include a few cans of corned beef (bully beef in the local jargon), but it was pointless to try and take fresh meat.  We rarely had access to refrigeration.

In early October of 1967 I was sent to the Matetsi Safari Area, west of the town of Wankie (now Hwange) and directly north of the Hwange Game Reserve. I had to test a new portable shortwave radio antenna and update several maps showing the locations and conditions of game fences and access roads in the area.  The Matetsi Safari Area was then, and still is today, heavily populated with big and small game including elephant, Cape buffalo and black rhino.

After a long overland drive from Salisbury (now Harare) I called in to meet up with the regional Veterinary Officer, in Wankie, Chris Steyn.  He had assembled his regular team of workers who were going into the Matetsi area to repair game fences and roads. They would be showing me the way.  The area is very remote and for the most part covered with dense vegetation, acacia and Mopani trees and shrubs. Rivers and streams here are dry in the winter months (May through August) up until the rains would begin in late October. The standard 7 ft. high game fences (with 8 strands of high tension wire and 10 – 12 inch thick Mopani posts spaced at 10 meter intervals) had been erected across this region in past decades to restrict the large scale migration of elephant and buffalo into rural areas of human occupation.  Small animals, such as impala and warthog could pass through the fences easily.  Some of the larger antelope species such as kudu and sable might be momentarily impeded but would pass through the fence or jump over the 7 ft. high top wire.

Chris Steyn, as a senior Veterinary Field Officer, had the authority to shoot buffalo and elephant within 200 meters of the game fences.  This policy was intended to drive them away and be a deterrent for the animals to reduce damage to fences; something that elephant in particular could do, and often did. Buffalo, would at times get their heavy horns caught in the wire and with a sharp twisting action, would snap it.  Fence maintenance and repair was an ongoing, labor intensive and expensive job. Before setting out on the drive through the hills and over the narrow bush roads of Matetsi, Chris told me that if I should see a buffalo within sight of a game fence, I should take the opportunity to shoot it.  His laborers would welcome a supply of fresh meat. As I would come to realize later, he had also told his foreman to try and locate some buffalo for me to shoot.

We had been on site in what is called the Matetsi Game Corridor for a couple of days. One morning I was following the tractor and trailer with four or five men with me in my Land Rover. They were clearing an old road and fence line when we heard the sound of a buffalo herd running in the distance. The foreman sent a man in that direction to see if he could see any of the herd. A while later the man came running back to us and signaled to me to follow him and bring my rifle. I had a .375 magnum with me, fitted with a telescopic sight.  I didn’t especially like a telescope for these conditions, preferring an open sight instead. The sharp recoil of the .375 would jar the scope out of alignment at times. There was no time to even consider changing at that moment however.

Two men walked ahead of me for about a quarter of a mile and pointed in the direction of an open grassy “vlei.” An old, and very large, Cape buffalo bull was grazing toward us with his head down.  I began to quietly make my way toward the buffalo through waist high Mopani shrub which offered the only cover.  My two companions had fallen back and, I assumed, were taking their seats for whatever was to happen in the next few minutes.  Eventually I came to within about 50 yards of the bull, surprised that he had not heard, seen, nor smelled me and was apparently unaware of my presence.  I sat down quietly and took careful aim, with the idea of taking just one, fatal shot to the spine in his exposed neck.  What I didn’t know until later, was that my telescope had been jarred out of alignment and was shooting about 4 inches to the right at 100 yards. 

The old bull - loaded on the trailer

Within an instant of pulling the trigger, I knew the shot would not be fatal because the huge animal bucked like a rodeo bull and instantly began to run directly towards me (or should I say – us).  I snapped another round into the breach and with a clear shot at his heart, because his head was now raised as he ran, I fired again.  My second shot only had the effect of turning him sharply to his left and he lumbered across my field of sight about 20 yards away.  Operating on instinct, I fired into his lower chest just behind his shoulder, hoping to hit his heart, and instantly I saw bright red blood spew from his nostrils. I had pierced his lungs.  He continued to run at a gallop without slowing, quickly disappearing into the mopani shrub.  I remember standing there watching and having the terrible thought that “oh shit - now, I have a wounded buffalo on my hands.”

In the middle of this most intense moment of my life I turned around to see where my two guides were and saw them both about ten feet up, clinging to a tall, very thin mopani tree, and looking at me with wide eyed expressions from about 50 feet away.  I laughed out loud at the comedic sight. To their credit, they too laughed – probably with relief.

Now we still had to go after the buffalo which most hunters will tell you is the most dangerous animal to hunt when wounded.  I took a few moments to reload my rifle and we picked up the spoor. The bright red blood on the ground confirmed his wounds were mortal.  We stopped every few minutes until we heard a thumping sound. Then we saw his dark shape through the shrub bush.  One of his legs was moving up and down and a hoof was hitting the ground in what was a final reflexive movement.  It was with relief that I walked up and put a final round into the back of his neck.

There were a lot of happy men soon surrounding the carcass which had to be cut into sections to load onto the trailer for the return to camp.  Before cutting the meat into strips for salting and drying, it was weighed, piece by piece,  at over 1,500 lbs. (In his prime this old boy probably weighed 1,700 pounds or so.) We were able to find two of the bullets I had fired. During the post mortem I found that my first shot had missed the spine, but had penetrated the neck, touched the heart and lodged inside the pelvic bones. I still have this slug in a small box. The second shot had also touched the heart and lodged in the pelvic bones. The third shot which had pierced the lungs as he ran across my field of vision had passed through his body.  This was an old animal, and his worn teeth told us why he was somewhat thinner than he should have been.  He may have lost some hearing as well.  These old bulls will eventually wander farther away from their herds and fall prey to predators in the area.

The horns were big (see photo above) and I kept them in a garage or storage room for years, until eventually selling them to a merchant for a few dollars before leaving Zimbabwe 12 years later. I heard that the ground-up powder from these horns is used in traditional African medicinal remedies.

Over the 44 years since my buffalo encounter I have rarely spoken of it.  It was one of only a few occasions in my life when I found myself in a situation where I would rely on instinct, with no chance to think about my actions.  To a degree the incident reassured me of my capabilities and I gained confidence.  Under pressure I did not panic but stood my ground.  No one can predict how they will react in situations like this and I am glad I responded appropriately.

Buffalo meat, salted, cut into strips and drying.

Two bullets removed from the carcass.