Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Track to Lake Katavi

We drove out in the morning, chilled and fleeced up, sans windscreen, windows, walls, but warmed by the knowledge that later on we’d be baking in the heat.  That’s what crystal clear skies do to Katavi...they let the heat rise and drift away into the star-riddled sky, but by mid-day the plains are once again shimmering with warmth.


We drove through a dry sand riverbed, noticing fresh leopard prints there.  We turned left at the giant tree and headed west across the northern edge of the plains, woodland to our right, yellow savannah to our left stretching as far as we could see.  Sometimes in places this enormous, as on the sea, it seems like we can see the curve of the earth.
We drove for hours, passing through a tunnel of long grass that hung over the track like a mile-long archway.  Emerging onto a dry, seasonal floodplain, we knew we were nearing the river, which we would have to cross, somehow.  First we had to traverse the plain, riddled with the now dry footprints of thousands of buffalo, hippo and elephant, making it a kilometre-wide ride so bouncy we were all laughing but relieved to get to the other side.
We found a gap in the steep river bank, worn down by ages of big game passage, just wide enough to squeeze the landrover into, down, check for crocs, hippos, jump out, wade in, solid sand bottom, thumbs up to the driver, “Landrova inaweza!” (The landrover can do it) shouted by the driver, gun the engine to climb the far bank, and out onto more endless plains.

Wow.  So rare was a vehicle to that side of Katavi that animals should have paid park fees, the way they stared at us as if we were the days top entertainment.  Topi herds, zebra herds, buffalo herds, giraffe, elephant, hippo on the savannah like antelope, thumbing their noses at the belief that they can’t handle the sun’s mid-day rays.  Warthogs cruising along with tails at full mast, impala flying through the air, hornbills laughing away...
We had set out at seven a.m.  We came back to our wooded Chada hideaway at 7 p.m.  We were covered in dust.  We were physically spent, mentally high and spiritually sated.  We ate like hogs and slept like logs. 

There had been stretches of time that day when we saw no game for an hour, then hundreds all at once.  We had found a pride of lions we did not know, who stared at us and hunched down into the grass as if they had never seen a car before.  We had lost our way three times, but the distant mountains and the sun never lie so we knew what direction we had to go to refind the track. 
 
That day we talked about many things, and sometimes we didn’t talk at all, relishing the silence. 
 
That night at the fire, back at Chada, someone said...

“I never would have believed it possible to be on a track that was so old, so hard to see, so un-driven upon, while still seeing so much game.”  We awarded them with the quote of the day. 

We had not seen another vehicle, all day long.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Bateleur

The Bateleur Eagle, a real beauty.
The nictitating membrane, an extra protective eyelid for birds.


T minus 3...2...1...


We have Liftoff.

Sit back, relax...
Enjoy your flight.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Junior and Sylvia, Reunited

In the June 14th blog, Junior was featured lying on his back staring at the camera.  Three weeks ago, Junior was evicted from the pride.  He's just getting to that age where the pride males don't trust him around the ladies any longer.  
When it happened, Sylvia his mother watched and then stayed with the pride, and we thought maybe we wouldn't see Junior much anymore, if at all.
This morning we saw two lions in front of camp, and upon closer inspection we found Sylvia and Junior, together again.  They've always been very close.  Fortunately, Junior is a good hunter so he should be fine when he has to make the final break and head out alone.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Look Out!

When hippos get upset, it doesn't matter who is in the way.  Even the smallest and cutest of the bunch have to beware when the big boys go at it. 

This little one has already experienced its first scars from older hippos.  Life in the pod is a little scary sometimes.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Our Buffalo Herds

Part of a herd one thousand strong, with another herd in the far distance. Click it for a bigger view.
They are so numerous, the highlight of watching the herds is often the sounds they make, as a million blades of grass whisper against the passing mass of bodies.  Their ceaseless grunts, moos, bellows and moans echo for miles.  Oddly, buffalo aren't loud animals on their own, but when thousands congregate, their collective voices and hoof drops form a city of sounds.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Python and the Mongoose

Yesterday coming back from a short game drive we ran into this fantastic scene.
A troop of banded mongooses all alert and then we drove around the corner and found out why.
A beautiful African Rock Python was approaching.  




Monday, July 4, 2011

Boomslangs are Green

Most often, if you are very very lucky and catch a glimpse of a Boomslang, it is green, or green with black markings, or beige.  Sometimes boomslangs are even grey or blackish.  But once in a blue moon, you might even find a red one.
If you don't agree that finding any snake, ever, should be considered lucky, you should reconsider.  Sighting a boomslang is more rare than seeing a leopard or a pangolin.  The boomslang is a graceful, stealthy hunter of the heights, climbing trees in search of chameleons and birds. 
Though poisonous, boomslangs are shy and non-aggressive (some chameleons and birds might beg to differ).  The mosquito is statistically more dangerous than this lovely creature, so take your Malarone and keep your eyes open for a boomslang, and if you're lucky, very very lucky, you might catch a glimpse.