Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Day 4 - Evening
Flying southwest over Krueger, we saw paved roads and some small communities, then quite large communities surrounded by cultivated fields and a wet river that seemed to flow from southwest to northeast. The landscape became greener and wetter, but not so much that there are any "lawns." It seems that water is reserved for crop land.
There was one interesting area, a large granite ridge along our route. To the north of the ridge, the land was broken out into large green cultivated fields with few houses. Just on the other side of the ridge the plots were smaller, and brown and each one had a house on the corner. My initial thought was that the river ran on one side and not the other, but then the ridge tapered away and ended and the green fields took over. It would be interesting to know what that was all about, but suddenly the farmland ends and we are flying over the bush again, but greener this time.
Phinda, our next "Camp" has a much nicer air strip. Not only was it paved, there are even a few buildings with restrooms, just in case that was a good idea after the two hour flight. (Karylinn will have to tell the story of her froggy friend; I dare not steal her thunder.)
On the way to the Phinda Mountain Lodge (There are seven lodges on the Phinda property) we met our first Nyala. This is an antelope that is a bit larger than an impala. Here at Phinda they are as ubiquitous as the impala are at Ngala. This pair is a male and female. At birth, both are the lighter brown color. As they come to adulthood, the males get darker and they get horns. We also saw crocs in the watering hole, warthogs and a cape buffalo; all before we got to unpack!
The accomodations at Phinda are even more plush than Ngala. On arriving at the lodge, we were greeted at the edge of the driveway with cool wet towels (warm in the cool evening) and a cocktail or juice. The lodge is another open air affair, with a courtyard surrounded by dining room, gift shop and lounge. Out the far side of the lounge, multiple decks and stairs down to the sinuous path that leads to the individual cabins.
The cabins are large thatch roofed buildings, nicely appointed inside. This is ours, and yes that ceiling is the underside of the thatch, waterproofing, insulation and decoration all in one.
I keep calling them "cabins" and perhaps someone can suggest a better word. But these are really for couples or at least very good friends. The shower is glassed in, there is a glass wall to the private deck from the bath, an outdoor shower and plunge pool also on the deck. The area is fenced so each unit has privacy, but as we found out later, this does not keep the animals away.
We had met our ranger Sibu on the way from the airstrip. I asked whether we chose him or he chose us. It turns out the answer was "yes." At the airstrip, Amanda had listened to the rangers chatting and thought that Sibu sounded like a smart, experienced guy. So she chose our ride to the lodge. On the way, all our family was acting out like our usual selves. (Those who know any of us, start imagining combinations and permutations and you'll be about right) At any rate, Sibu must have thought we'd be entertaining and asked if we'd like him to be our guide for the rest of the week. I think it worked out quite well.
After we had a chance to freshen up, and afternoon tea of course, Sibu and our tracker Joel (pronounced Jo-el) took us in search of lions. There is a full grown giraffe that had died, (they think of natural causes) a few days ago. There had been a male lion feeding on it, so we went to check it out. (I'll spare you the photo of the carcase. It was not really gory, but I can tell you it stunk to high heaven. Apparently, since it is somewhat under cover and Phinda does not seem to have a large hyena population, it has not attracted much attention from scavengers.)
When we arrived, there was no sign of the male, but there was a lioness laying in the grass near the carcase. We sat for quite a while just watching her. Sibu let others know and another Land Rover or two showed up, watched a while and left. Still we waited. After a bit, she got up and was on the move. Again, I was surprised that she seemed unperturbed by our presence. Here, she turned and looked at us, but she didn't run away, just stuck to her mission.
She was able to take a fairly direct route. We were forced to detour around some fairly dense thickets, but eventually we found her near four cubs. She arrived, plopped herself down, and one of the cubs walked over and barfed right in front of her. "Hey look mom, I ate too much." A bit later and they all lay down for this family portrait.
It turned out that there was another kill just behind them in the bushes. We could never see it, but one of the other vehicles said it was a warthog. We sat and watched for quite a while. Mom mostly lay still, but the cubs were back and forth, playing, rolling around, being kids. Eventually we needed to leave. Phinda has a strict rule that there can be only three vehicles at a sighting and we needed to give others their turn. (I presume this is mostly for the animals benefit, but I think it benefits us too. Some of the great feeling of such a place comes from being alone, not 5th in a line of cars.)
After we left, Sibu took us up to the top of "Pride Rock." Ok, that's not what he called it, it has another name that I can't remember that is something like "place of the chiefs" in the Zulu language. But look at this place! Giant granite outcrop, commanding view of the area, there have been lions or leopards spotted there. I think "Pride Rock" is a great name. (Unless you have not seen the Disney movie or the Broadway show, then you have no idea what I am talking about.)
Never the less, the view was spectacular, the sunset gorgeous and even those of our group with a fear of heights just had to go and take a look.
After sunset, we took the usual night drive back towards the lodge. As we travel, Sibu suddently stops in the road. Joel has seen a glint of eyes up a side road. Carefully backing up, Sibu turns right, down a short slope through what looks like a small dry creek bed and through an archway of brush. Truly this is the "road less traveled" and we are all alert for more shining eyes in the darkness. Alas, there are none. The narrow track opens into a small clearing, and Sibu turns around. There is not enough room to turn in one go, so he backs and fills but a hiss and a rumble tells us we have a flat tire. Well, we have a spare . . . right? Uhhh, no. They had a flat earlier in the day, and Phinda is large and the repair shops are far away. We've gone out without a spare.
Ok, it's dark, not twilight, full dark, no spare and . . . what was that part about staying in the vehicle so we don't look like prey? Sibu gets on the radio and tells someone or other that "we are on Blahdeblah north of MBleh and could they please . . .." Hold on, you mean this crummy little dirt track has a name?!? "Oh Sure. You can drop me down anywhere in this place, I'll know immediately where I am." Sure enough, within about 10 minutes another Land Rover showed up, some of us held the lights while the tire was changed and we were on our way.
Dinner in the boma and I am determined that I will record the day's experience and write to the blog. After all, I have a private deck, some lovely Amarula in the minibar (Ngala had a complementary decanter of sherry, at Phinda it's whatever you want) and . . . and . . . gosh! sorry. It's 9:30 and I'm crawling under the duvet, barely able to keep my eyes open. Fortunately, the wake up call is not until 6:00 here. WooHoo! an extra half hour!
There was one interesting area, a large granite ridge along our route. To the north of the ridge, the land was broken out into large green cultivated fields with few houses. Just on the other side of the ridge the plots were smaller, and brown and each one had a house on the corner. My initial thought was that the river ran on one side and not the other, but then the ridge tapered away and ended and the green fields took over. It would be interesting to know what that was all about, but suddenly the farmland ends and we are flying over the bush again, but greener this time.
Phinda, our next "Camp" has a much nicer air strip. Not only was it paved, there are even a few buildings with restrooms, just in case that was a good idea after the two hour flight. (Karylinn will have to tell the story of her froggy friend; I dare not steal her thunder.)
On the way to the Phinda Mountain Lodge (There are seven lodges on the Phinda property) we met our first Nyala. This is an antelope that is a bit larger than an impala. Here at Phinda they are as ubiquitous as the impala are at Ngala. This pair is a male and female. At birth, both are the lighter brown color. As they come to adulthood, the males get darker and they get horns. We also saw crocs in the watering hole, warthogs and a cape buffalo; all before we got to unpack!The accomodations at Phinda are even more plush than Ngala. On arriving at the lodge, we were greeted at the edge of the driveway with cool wet towels (warm in the cool evening) and a cocktail or juice. The lodge is another open air affair, with a courtyard surrounded by dining room, gift shop and lounge. Out the far side of the lounge, multiple decks and stairs down to the sinuous path that leads to the individual cabins.
The cabins are large thatch roofed buildings, nicely appointed inside. This is ours, and yes that ceiling is the underside of the thatch, waterproofing, insulation and decoration all in one.
I keep calling them "cabins" and perhaps someone can suggest a better word. But these are really for couples or at least very good friends. The shower is glassed in, there is a glass wall to the private deck from the bath, an outdoor shower and plunge pool also on the deck. The area is fenced so each unit has privacy, but as we found out later, this does not keep the animals away. We had met our ranger Sibu on the way from the airstrip. I asked whether we chose him or he chose us. It turns out the answer was "yes." At the airstrip, Amanda had listened to the rangers chatting and thought that Sibu sounded like a smart, experienced guy. So she chose our ride to the lodge. On the way, all our family was acting out like our usual selves. (Those who know any of us, start imagining combinations and permutations and you'll be about right) At any rate, Sibu must have thought we'd be entertaining and asked if we'd like him to be our guide for the rest of the week. I think it worked out quite well.
After we had a chance to freshen up, and afternoon tea of course, Sibu and our tracker Joel (pronounced Jo-el) took us in search of lions. There is a full grown giraffe that had died, (they think of natural causes) a few days ago. There had been a male lion feeding on it, so we went to check it out. (I'll spare you the photo of the carcase. It was not really gory, but I can tell you it stunk to high heaven. Apparently, since it is somewhat under cover and Phinda does not seem to have a large hyena population, it has not attracted much attention from scavengers.)When we arrived, there was no sign of the male, but there was a lioness laying in the grass near the carcase. We sat for quite a while just watching her. Sibu let others know and another Land Rover or two showed up, watched a while and left. Still we waited. After a bit, she got up and was on the move. Again, I was surprised that she seemed unperturbed by our presence. Here, she turned and looked at us, but she didn't run away, just stuck to her mission.
She was able to take a fairly direct route. We were forced to detour around some fairly dense thickets, but eventually we found her near four cubs. She arrived, plopped herself down, and one of the cubs walked over and barfed right in front of her. "Hey look mom, I ate too much." A bit later and they all lay down for this family portrait.
It turned out that there was another kill just behind them in the bushes. We could never see it, but one of the other vehicles said it was a warthog. We sat and watched for quite a while. Mom mostly lay still, but the cubs were back and forth, playing, rolling around, being kids. Eventually we needed to leave. Phinda has a strict rule that there can be only three vehicles at a sighting and we needed to give others their turn. (I presume this is mostly for the animals benefit, but I think it benefits us too. Some of the great feeling of such a place comes from being alone, not 5th in a line of cars.)
After we left, Sibu took us up to the top of "Pride Rock." Ok, that's not what he called it, it has another name that I can't remember that is something like "place of the chiefs" in the Zulu language. But look at this place! Giant granite outcrop, commanding view of the area, there have been lions or leopards spotted there. I think "Pride Rock" is a great name. (Unless you have not seen the Disney movie or the Broadway show, then you have no idea what I am talking about.)
Never the less, the view was spectacular, the sunset gorgeous and even those of our group with a fear of heights just had to go and take a look.After sunset, we took the usual night drive back towards the lodge. As we travel, Sibu suddently stops in the road. Joel has seen a glint of eyes up a side road. Carefully backing up, Sibu turns right, down a short slope through what looks like a small dry creek bed and through an archway of brush. Truly this is the "road less traveled" and we are all alert for more shining eyes in the darkness. Alas, there are none. The narrow track opens into a small clearing, and Sibu turns around. There is not enough room to turn in one go, so he backs and fills but a hiss and a rumble tells us we have a flat tire. Well, we have a spare . . . right? Uhhh, no. They had a flat earlier in the day, and Phinda is large and the repair shops are far away. We've gone out without a spare.
Ok, it's dark, not twilight, full dark, no spare and . . . what was that part about staying in the vehicle so we don't look like prey? Sibu gets on the radio and tells someone or other that "we are on Blahdeblah north of MBleh and could they please . . .." Hold on, you mean this crummy little dirt track has a name?!? "Oh Sure. You can drop me down anywhere in this place, I'll know immediately where I am." Sure enough, within about 10 minutes another Land Rover showed up, some of us held the lights while the tire was changed and we were on our way.
Dinner in the boma and I am determined that I will record the day's experience and write to the blog. After all, I have a private deck, some lovely Amarula in the minibar (Ngala had a complementary decanter of sherry, at Phinda it's whatever you want) and . . . and . . . gosh! sorry. It's 9:30 and I'm crawling under the duvet, barely able to keep my eyes open. Fortunately, the wake up call is not until 6:00 here. WooHoo! an extra half hour!
Day 4 - Morning
Hey Patton! These posts are out of order! Yup, see the A Note on Method below.
The morning of the 4th, Mark said, "you guys haven't seen our river yet." So off we went, not so much to see the river (Nothing more than a dry channel with sand in the bottom. It probably gets water when the rains come).
Once there, we met this female elephant, the first of our trip. Mark says that she is very old. As elephants age, there temple glands tend to recede. Take a look at her and you can see that she has dents above the eyes. Elephants usually travel in family groups. This one being alone is another consequence of her age.
Elephants have six sets of molars. When they feed, they will eat both the woody parts of trees as well as the leaves. Their molars need to be able to grind it all up. When one set of molars is worn down, the next set is pressed into service. Since a set of molars lasts about 10 years, elephants have a life expectancy of about 60 years. Once all the molars are worn away, they can no longer eat enough.
Apparently this old girl is out of teeth and just doing the best she can. What you can't tell from this picture, but was apparent once pointed out to us, was that she was just stripping the leaves from the branches and not eating the branches themselves. She was not moving fast, and Mark said she seemed tired, not hungry and didn't really seem interested in her food, she was just feeding from habit. In his estimation, she only had weeks or a month to live and would have separated herself from the family group because they needed to cover more ground and find more food than she needed. Every now and then, though, she would stop and cock her head ever so slightly as if listening. Apparently elephants communicate in two frequencies. At close range, they "talk" in low but audible grunts and grumbles. Over longer distances, they communicate at a frequency that is inaudible to human hearing, but that caries over long distance. Mark assumed that even though separate, she would be talking with her family.
So, do elephant's cry? Some of the literature I have read says that it only looks that way. Elephants don't have tear ducts, so their tears run down their faces. But sitting there, watching her feed and listen, looking into that sensitive face, it is hard to believe that she does not miss her sisters and daughters; that she is not aware of her fate.
The rest of the herd, Mark says, will know where she is, will know when she falls silent and know that she has died. They will go to her, surround her, and one at a time each one, from youngest to oldest, will touch her with their trunks, paying their respects or perhaps convincing themselves that she had really died. Then they will mourn, and though they will not stand guard over her, they may cover her with brush to keep the predators away.
After leaving her, we found the family. They would not let us get too close, the adults were keeping their little one behind them and away from us. They tolerated us for a while, but eventually they disappeared down an impossibly steep bank into the dry river, hardly making a sound.
Since it was our last day at Ngala, we had heard that the rangers had been instructed to deliver us back to camp at a particular time. After the elephants left us, we made our way back in that direction, looking for nothing in particular - - when Solly spotted a male lion on the move. When tracking a lion, the tracker gets off of the jumpseat and into the benches so that the vehicle will have the correct profile. Then it was off the road and into the brush again.
The lion was completely unconcerned with us, though he did glare at us from time to time. But not enough that he would divert from his mission. In fact he did not even stop to consider the large kudu female not 50 yards away.
She, however was quite aware of him, barking alarm calls and looking all around. At first I wondered why, if she could smell the lion but not see it, she didn't just run away. Of course, if you don't know where it is, you could just as easily run into it as away. Once she spotted him, she kept her eyes to him and calmed down noticeably. Apparently the predator you see is not to be feared, especially if you are fast!
We learned that this male is one of a dominant coalition of brothers. The three will split up at night and patrol the boundaries of their territory. This morning he was moving to rejoin his two brothers. Mark and Solly could hear him calling, though I could not, and followed him through the dense brush to see if we could see them all.
(I made the mistake if trying to ward off a knob thorn branch with my arm. This particular shrub has thick cruel thorns the curl back into the center of the bush. Once hooked, an attempt to pull away just digs them in deeper. I was jabbed pretty well in the palm of my hand and the moving truck did the pulling. My jacket also got snagged in half a with half a dozen thorns and, unlike my hand, there's not a mark on it. I really must write to REI and let them know!)
In spite of the brush, we were able to get pretty close to the big guy. How close you ask? Well a
gain a picture is worth . . . This is one I took from the back seat of our truck with fellow passengers in front. The other vehicle is some of our compatriots who joined in the chase. Notice how the vehicles are set up with strong doors, windows and cages to keep the animals away? It's good to have faith that they care more about other things than trying to eat an entire Land Rover. Eventually our friend crossed the road into Krueger where we could not follow, it was time to head for our normal morning coffee break and then back to breakfast.
This was a day of surprises though. Remember how "Day 1" was the first of July? We thought nothing of it since we were half a world away from the U.S. of A. We hadn't counted on the ingenuity of Paul and Christine. Somehow, in their luggage allotment, they brought all the trinkets and trappings of a July 4 celebration and then enlisted the camp staff to put on a bush breakfast. As we entered the clearing, there was the camp staff, tooting noise-makers and waving flags.
We were greeted with a place to wash up and mimosa's for breakfast, along with just about everything else you could possibly have wanted. Naturally someone lead us in patriotic songs, God Bless America and the National Anthem. I explained to Mark that the it is almost tradition to sing the latter poorly since the tune is so hard. His rejoinder, "yes, but at least yours is not in the country's 12 official languages!"
Mark and Solly rode back to camp wearing the red white and blue headgear to much amusement, well, Mark's amusement anyway. Solly had to be talked into it, but between the kids and Mark they prevailed on him and he seemed to have a bit of fun with it in the end.
Here's the Fourth of July toast of the day:
"He who goes forth on the fourth with a fifth, may have trouble coming forth on the fifth."
(We had to explain that one to the folks who measure their liquor in liters.)
By the time we got back to camp, our bags had been picked up and delivered to the airstrip. All we needed to do was settle accounts and head out for the next adventure.
The morning of the 4th, Mark said, "you guys haven't seen our river yet." So off we went, not so much to see the river (Nothing more than a dry channel with sand in the bottom. It probably gets water when the rains come).
Once there, we met this female elephant, the first of our trip. Mark says that she is very old. As elephants age, there temple glands tend to recede. Take a look at her and you can see that she has dents above the eyes. Elephants usually travel in family groups. This one being alone is another consequence of her age.Elephants have six sets of molars. When they feed, they will eat both the woody parts of trees as well as the leaves. Their molars need to be able to grind it all up. When one set of molars is worn down, the next set is pressed into service. Since a set of molars lasts about 10 years, elephants have a life expectancy of about 60 years. Once all the molars are worn away, they can no longer eat enough.
Apparently this old girl is out of teeth and just doing the best she can. What you can't tell from this picture, but was apparent once pointed out to us, was that she was just stripping the leaves from the branches and not eating the branches themselves. She was not moving fast, and Mark said she seemed tired, not hungry and didn't really seem interested in her food, she was just feeding from habit. In his estimation, she only had weeks or a month to live and would have separated herself from the family group because they needed to cover more ground and find more food than she needed. Every now and then, though, she would stop and cock her head ever so slightly as if listening. Apparently elephants communicate in two frequencies. At close range, they "talk" in low but audible grunts and grumbles. Over longer distances, they communicate at a frequency that is inaudible to human hearing, but that caries over long distance. Mark assumed that even though separate, she would be talking with her family.
So, do elephant's cry? Some of the literature I have read says that it only looks that way. Elephants don't have tear ducts, so their tears run down their faces. But sitting there, watching her feed and listen, looking into that sensitive face, it is hard to believe that she does not miss her sisters and daughters; that she is not aware of her fate.The rest of the herd, Mark says, will know where she is, will know when she falls silent and know that she has died. They will go to her, surround her, and one at a time each one, from youngest to oldest, will touch her with their trunks, paying their respects or perhaps convincing themselves that she had really died. Then they will mourn, and though they will not stand guard over her, they may cover her with brush to keep the predators away.
After leaving her, we found the family. They would not let us get too close, the adults were keeping their little one behind them and away from us. They tolerated us for a while, but eventually they disappeared down an impossibly steep bank into the dry river, hardly making a sound.Since it was our last day at Ngala, we had heard that the rangers had been instructed to deliver us back to camp at a particular time. After the elephants left us, we made our way back in that direction, looking for nothing in particular - - when Solly spotted a male lion on the move. When tracking a lion, the tracker gets off of the jumpseat and into the benches so that the vehicle will have the correct profile. Then it was off the road and into the brush again.
The lion was completely unconcerned with us, though he did glare at us from time to time. But not enough that he would divert from his mission. In fact he did not even stop to consider the large kudu female not 50 yards away.
She, however was quite aware of him, barking alarm calls and looking all around. At first I wondered why, if she could smell the lion but not see it, she didn't just run away. Of course, if you don't know where it is, you could just as easily run into it as away. Once she spotted him, she kept her eyes to him and calmed down noticeably. Apparently the predator you see is not to be feared, especially if you are fast!
We learned that this male is one of a dominant coalition of brothers. The three will split up at night and patrol the boundaries of their territory. This morning he was moving to rejoin his two brothers. Mark and Solly could hear him calling, though I could not, and followed him through the dense brush to see if we could see them all.
(I made the mistake if trying to ward off a knob thorn branch with my arm. This particular shrub has thick cruel thorns the curl back into the center of the bush. Once hooked, an attempt to pull away just digs them in deeper. I was jabbed pretty well in the palm of my hand and the moving truck did the pulling. My jacket also got snagged in half a with half a dozen thorns and, unlike my hand, there's not a mark on it. I really must write to REI and let them know!)
In spite of the brush, we were able to get pretty close to the big guy. How close you ask? Well a
gain a picture is worth . . . This is one I took from the back seat of our truck with fellow passengers in front. The other vehicle is some of our compatriots who joined in the chase. Notice how the vehicles are set up with strong doors, windows and cages to keep the animals away? It's good to have faith that they care more about other things than trying to eat an entire Land Rover. Eventually our friend crossed the road into Krueger where we could not follow, it was time to head for our normal morning coffee break and then back to breakfast.This was a day of surprises though. Remember how "Day 1" was the first of July? We thought nothing of it since we were half a world away from the U.S. of A. We hadn't counted on the ingenuity of Paul and Christine. Somehow, in their luggage allotment, they brought all the trinkets and trappings of a July 4 celebration and then enlisted the camp staff to put on a bush breakfast. As we entered the clearing, there was the camp staff, tooting noise-makers and waving flags.
We were greeted with a place to wash up and mimosa's for breakfast, along with just about everything else you could possibly have wanted. Naturally someone lead us in patriotic songs, God Bless America and the National Anthem. I explained to Mark that the it is almost tradition to sing the latter poorly since the tune is so hard. His rejoinder, "yes, but at least yours is not in the country's 12 official languages!"
Mark and Solly rode back to camp wearing the red white and blue headgear to much amusement, well, Mark's amusement anyway. Solly had to be talked into it, but between the kids and Mark they prevailed on him and he seemed to have a bit of fun with it in the end.
Here's the Fourth of July toast of the day:
"He who goes forth on the fourth with a fifth, may have trouble coming forth on the fifth."
(We had to explain that one to the folks who measure their liquor in liters.)
By the time we got back to camp, our bags had been picked up and delivered to the airstrip. All we needed to do was settle accounts and head out for the next adventure.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Day 3
5:30 am again. Those who know me well probably can't believe I could be up at this hour. But the jetlag and the baboon barking outside meant I had slept fitfully since about 3:30 anyway.
A word or two about the camp. Saying "Camp" really does not do it justice. The main buildings are open walled, thatched roof, and the guest cottages are of similar design, but closed to the "night life."
I'm told that a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are three thousand or so.
This is the main dining area. It is even larger than it looks. The inside view below is from the left corner you see here but at lunch time.
Finally, here is the cottage that Karylinn and I are in. Somewhere I have a picture of the inside of this one too.
On the day's activities:
First thing in the morning, Solly spots lion tracks in the road. These tracks are on top of wheel tracks they knew were only 20 minutes old, so time to start tracking. But no dropping off Solly without a gun. Lion are taken a bit more seriously. We crisscrossed several roads looking for where the lion must have gone. Then off road, following tracks. Every now and then, Mark and Solly would both get out and follow the tracks, taking the gun of course. "Don't worry, you'll be fine, just stay in the vehicle . . ." It sure is quiet out here, except for the nervous giggles!
Down toward the dam, following the watercourse from the upstream side, the trail turns, well not cold, but into the path of a herd of cape buffalo.
We get to see them come to water, but they will obliterate the tracks of the lion.
Once we were no longer in front of the giant buffalo, this truly became one of those "National Geographic" moments!
Wow! That's quite a lot before breakfast! (Uh, yeah, there's more day, but it will be in the next post)
A word or two about the camp. Saying "Camp" really does not do it justice. The main buildings are open walled, thatched roof, and the guest cottages are of similar design, but closed to the "night life."
I'm told that a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are three thousand or so.
This is the main dining area. It is even larger than it looks. The inside view below is from the left corner you see here but at lunch time.
Finally, here is the cottage that Karylinn and I are in. Somewhere I have a picture of the inside of this one too.
On the day's activities:
First thing in the morning, Solly spots lion tracks in the road. These tracks are on top of wheel tracks they knew were only 20 minutes old, so time to start tracking. But no dropping off Solly without a gun. Lion are taken a bit more seriously. We crisscrossed several roads looking for where the lion must have gone. Then off road, following tracks. Every now and then, Mark and Solly would both get out and follow the tracks, taking the gun of course. "Don't worry, you'll be fine, just stay in the vehicle . . ." It sure is quiet out here, except for the nervous giggles!
Down toward the dam, following the watercourse from the upstream side, the trail turns, well not cold, but into the path of a herd of cape buffalo.
We get to see them come to water, but they will obliterate the tracks of the lion.
Once we were no longer in front of the giant buffalo, this truly became one of those "National Geographic" moments!
Wow! That's quite a lot before breakfast! (Uh, yeah, there's more day, but it will be in the next post)
Day 3 Noon
Was it Kipling who said "Only mad dogs and Englishmen venture out in the noon day sun"? Beats me. The usual routine has been morning drive, breakfast, spend some down time, then evening tea and evening drive. But today, I decided to go on the 11:00 nature walk. For a day that started out so cold, it is surprising how warm it is. (Like the central Oregon desert in summer).
Our guide is another of the rangers, Lyson, who's goal is not to make a hike of it, rather to show us some of the small things that are missed while we are rumbling around in the land rovers. So here are a few things I learned:
Now you see the picture, and I know what you're thinking, that's not Patton standing by Lyson holding the smoldering poo. He must have been too smart to fall for that one, right? Naah, you just can't see the smoke in that picture.
Our guide is another of the rangers, Lyson, who's goal is not to make a hike of it, rather to show us some of the small things that are missed while we are rumbling around in the land rovers. So here are a few things I learned:
- The bark of a thorn tree can be made into a very good rope.
- The twig of the "magic bush" makes a good tooth brush because of all the tannins in the wood and also is used by water dowsers.
- Burrowing spiders can live up to 20 years, but teasing them out of their holes with a stick can be deadly for them. Apparently they make one hole, but if it gets broken, they forget how to make another.
- Termite mounds are the exhaust vents for the entire termite colony - the inlet vents have no mounds - and are used to carefully maintain temperature. The termites don't dig for wood, they haul that stuff down underground, defecate on it, it rots and grows a particular fungus, and THAT is what the termites eat. Basically they are farmers.
- Aardvarks dig holes to get to termites, but they don't live in them, warthogs do live in them when the aardvark leaves - until the hole gets filled with warthog parasites, then the [oops forgot to write it down] that likes the paracites moves in, followed by badgers, bats, snakes. Basically the aardvarks are construction contractors for everyone else.
- The Marula tree (the classic "leopard tree") has many uses, the leaves can be made into a poltice for bee stings; the bark makes a tea that will stop the itch of chicken pox; the root can have the sap blown out and if put into the eyes, will wash out cobra venom and prevent blindness; and the fruit us used to make a liqueur called "Amarula" which looks like Baileys, tastes different and is great in coffee.
- Elephants like the Marula fruit too and will eat it when they can. Their digestive systems are so poor, that they cannot digest the seed, which they then distribute, ensuring the continuing populations of marula trees.
- And, as if that were not enough, elephants when they eat things other than Marula fruit, only digest about 30%. The rest is excreted and the dung looks mostly like a chunk of twigs; guess what, it gives the termites a head start. And, if the termites "bug" you, then a "smudge pot" of elephant dung will drive them away along with other bugs.
Now you see the picture, and I know what you're thinking, that's not Patton standing by Lyson holding the smoldering poo. He must have been too smart to fall for that one, right? Naah, you just can't see the smoke in that picture.
Day 3 Afternoon
For the end of day 3, just some more thousands of words compressed into images.
Very little if any narrative at all
This guy is a little blurry, but fast!
No, no, not the truck. See who's sleeping in the foreground?
I'm really glad this is a yawn and not something else!
Our last night in Ngala . . . But still more to come!
Very little if any narrative at all
This guy is a little blurry, but fast!
No, no, not the truck. See who's sleeping in the foreground?
I'm really glad this is a yawn and not something else!
Our last night in Ngala . . . But still more to come!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Far South
<far-south.jpg>
It's our last day here, and we're waiting to check out and our shuttle to the airport. Unfortunately, I am starting to come down with a cold. More unfortunately, Karylinn already has it. She skipped yesterday's trip to the Cape and dinner last night due to fever. 24 + hours in transit will not really be much fun I don't think.
In the mean time, here is one picture - As far away on the planet . . . Anyone remember me saying that? Bill? (No, not you Bill, the other Bill) Well I made it.
Patton
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
We spent last night in the Radisson on Table bay in Cape Town. Today's event was to the South African wine country. We visited the Ernie Els winery in Stellenbosch. (Yes, Ernie Els the golfer.) The wines were very nice and the views awesome. Along the way we learned about "Cape Dutch" architechture, the new stadium being built in Cape Town for the soccer world cup in 2010, and the housing problem for the tribal africans migrating to the city.
In Stellenbosch, after lunch, there was time for a little shopping. Karylinn bought a couple of scarves from "African Silk". This was the name of the store and also describes the silk. It is from a different worm than asian silk and is not as heavily processed. This makes for a thicker soft (very soft) yarn.
The weavers are all black women living in the area. Many have no husbands, some are abused or have disabilities. Working to produce the silk products provides their income.
Stellenbosch
We spent last night in the Radisson on Table bay in Cape Town. Today's event was to the South African wine country. We visited the Ernie Els winery in Stellenbosch. (Yes, Ernie Els the golfer.) The wines were very nice and the views awesome. Along the way we learned about "Cape Dutch" architechture, the new stadium being built in Cape Town for the soccer world cup in 2010, and the housing problem for the tribal africans migrating to the city.
In Stellenbosch, after lunch, there was time for a little shopping. Karylinn bought a couple of scarves from "African Silk". This was the name of the store and also describes the silk. It is from a different worm than asian silk and is not as heavily processed. This makes for a thicker soft (very soft) yarn.
The weavers are all black women living in the area. Many have no husbands, some are abused or have disabilities. Working to produce the silk products provides their income.
Karylinn's two scarves were made by Norita who was there in the shop, working at her loom. For the two scarves, Karylinn paid R632 each. I spoke with Norita and she said that each one takes about 5 days to make. So here is an exercize for the reader: R7.55 = $1.00; The price includes VAT (Value added tax) of about 14%; percentage supporting the shop = ?; materials cost something, so - Norita's hourly rate?
Tomorrow our tour takes us to one of the townships where we learn more.
File(s) Attached
<We spent.txt>
In Stellenbosch, after lunch, there was time for a little shopping. Karylinn bought a couple of scarves from "African Silk". This was the name of the store and also describes the silk. It is from a different worm than asian silk and is not as heavily processed. This makes for a thicker soft (very soft) yarn.
The weavers are all black women living in the area. Many have no husbands, some are abused or have disabilities. Working to produce the silk products provides their income.
Stellenbosch
We spent last night in the Radisson on Table bay in Cape Town. Today's event was to the South African wine country. We visited the Ernie Els winery in Stellenbosch. (Yes, Ernie Els the golfer.) The wines were very nice and the views awesome. Along the way we learned about "Cape Dutch" architechture, the new stadium being built in Cape Town for the soccer world cup in 2010, and the housing problem for the tribal africans migrating to the city.
In Stellenbosch, after lunch, there was time for a little shopping. Karylinn bought a couple of scarves from "African Silk". This was the name of the store and also describes the silk. It is from a different worm than asian silk and is not as heavily processed. This makes for a thicker soft (very soft) yarn.
The weavers are all black women living in the area. Many have no husbands, some are abused or have disabilities. Working to produce the silk products provides their income.
Karylinn's two scarves were made by Norita who was there in the shop, working at her loom. For the two scarves, Karylinn paid R632 each. I spoke with Norita and she said that each one takes about 5 days to make. So here is an exercize for the reader: R7.55 = $1.00; The price includes VAT (Value added tax) of about 14%; percentage supporting the shop = ?; materials cost something, so - Norita's hourly rate?
Tomorrow our tour takes us to one of the townships where we learn more.
File(s) Attached
<We spent.txt>
Monday, July 7, 2008
Life and Death on the Savanna
The sun rises on the dew drenched grass and an nyala jumps the road , celebrating having survived another night. We round the corner and climb the hill to where the cheetah and her cubs have been sighted.
The morning brightens and dries, the cats have finished grooming and streaching and are on the move, working their way down toward the valley bottom. Sibu spots a kudu on the far side, and thinks the four may be interested in her. The kudu is usually quite large for a cheetah, but this one is suckeling a young one.
We follow as the cheetah move, their eyes sharp and clearly with a goal in mind. Once they enter the trees we cannot follow directly, so we pass them and go down to the nearly dry dam where we can see them emerge from the brush. Once there we see another likely target, a small herd of impala.
We waited, seeing nothing for several minutes. We could hear animals alerting in the brush, though. Sibu explained that monkeys or other antelope would alert even if they were in no danger - all the potential prey species watching each others backs.
Soon the nervous impala were looking down into the dry creek bed, I looked where they did and saw cheetah emerging from the trees. At that moment I remembered Mark's comment at Ngala - if the prey sights the predator before the pounce, the hunt is over. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, Sibu cried out "The Kill, the Kill she is making the kill, I turned in time to see a fleeing impala try to make a reverse down hill turn, the mother cheetah turning inside and bounding after then impala and cheetah were down in the tall grass.
As Sibu took us closer, the impala gained it's feet once, only to be hauled down again. Finally we reached a vantage where we could see golden spotted fur in golden grass. Every now and then the cheetah would sit up for a moment or two, then reach down and grab at the impala - - when it kicked and moved, she would resume choking it to death. Finally satisfied that the kill was complete, the mother called to her cubs a sharp chirping cry. When they arrived, they immediately began to feed, the mother, still winded nearly fifteen minutes later, lay down to recover before she ate another fifteen later.
*****
Long later, we are the last to go and see the large male lion found by other trackers during the day. (So as not to interfere too much with the animals, no more than 3 vehicles can be at a sighting) It is well after sunset, and the sighting is illuminated only by red lensed lights that do the least harm to night vision.
The male was there, and so were the lioness and her cubs we had seen before. All were feeding on something obscured by the brush about 10 yards to our right Unlike the cheetah, lion are not quiet when they eat. (There is a ripping sound interspersed with loud cracking.) They have little fear of something trying to steal their kill. There was a stench in the air that smelled like a horse barn. Sibu told us that the lions had spilled the stomach contents, I suppose that all herbivores have similar smelling waste.
We were near a dam and Sam, sitting next to me, said, I think I hear hippos coming. An entirely reasonable thought since the hippos had been booming their evening routine. (A thunderous "GROUGH" followed by and equally thunderous "How how how how" Though completely inhuman, it sounds for all the world like laughter.) Then the big male is away from the kill and moving our way. Sibu removes the red filter and points it toward the quiet crunching coming from the left that Sam had heard. This was no hippo, but a large croc, attracted by the smell of the stomach, looking for a free meal.
Sibu and another ranger agreed to back up and see if the lion and croc would fight. We move from nearly bumper to bumper to about 15 yards space. The lights are extinguished and Sibu's hushed voice explains that, some weeks ago, lions had killed a large croc. But that had taken hours and the efforts of an entire pride, about a dozen adults.
Illuminated now by only stars and the sliver of a crescent moon, we hear the lion rumbling it's warning. (It is tempting to compare the sound to the purring of a house kitty, but that sound you can only feel if you are holding the cat) The rumble moves towards where we had seen the croc, gets louder, then accompanied with a loud hiss, and the stap of the croc's jaws snapping shut. Red lights flare and the male glares at the croc, hidden in the grass, then turns toward us. Some flash pictures are taken from the other vehicle, and my camera is at the ready, but we are implored to just be still. He approaches Amanda, seated to the left in front of me, then looks directly at Sam on my left, steps forward to less than a body length away, turns toward the rear of the vehicle - around the back and down my side. At the moment, I thought I could touch him had I reached out my hand. In truth, I would have had to lean out a bit. Even though he was only two feet from the vehicle, I was seated higher than his head.
After determining that we were no threat, he moved ahead and between the vehicles, guarding the passage between the croc and the kill. We backed up a bit and saw the lioness dragging the carcase of a male nyala up the hill. Then heard her come back and scrape dirt and brush over the spilled entrails. The stench abated somewnat, the male followed back into the brush and we decided that it was time to leave them to finish the meal.
The morning brightens and dries, the cats have finished grooming and streaching and are on the move, working their way down toward the valley bottom. Sibu spots a kudu on the far side, and thinks the four may be interested in her. The kudu is usually quite large for a cheetah, but this one is suckeling a young one.
We follow as the cheetah move, their eyes sharp and clearly with a goal in mind. Once they enter the trees we cannot follow directly, so we pass them and go down to the nearly dry dam where we can see them emerge from the brush. Once there we see another likely target, a small herd of impala.
We waited, seeing nothing for several minutes. We could hear animals alerting in the brush, though. Sibu explained that monkeys or other antelope would alert even if they were in no danger - all the potential prey species watching each others backs.
Soon the nervous impala were looking down into the dry creek bed, I looked where they did and saw cheetah emerging from the trees. At that moment I remembered Mark's comment at Ngala - if the prey sights the predator before the pounce, the hunt is over. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, Sibu cried out "The Kill, the Kill she is making the kill, I turned in time to see a fleeing impala try to make a reverse down hill turn, the mother cheetah turning inside and bounding after then impala and cheetah were down in the tall grass.
As Sibu took us closer, the impala gained it's feet once, only to be hauled down again. Finally we reached a vantage where we could see golden spotted fur in golden grass. Every now and then the cheetah would sit up for a moment or two, then reach down and grab at the impala - - when it kicked and moved, she would resume choking it to death. Finally satisfied that the kill was complete, the mother called to her cubs a sharp chirping cry. When they arrived, they immediately began to feed, the mother, still winded nearly fifteen minutes later, lay down to recover before she ate another fifteen later.*****
Long later, we are the last to go and see the large male lion found by other trackers during the day. (So as not to interfere too much with the animals, no more than 3 vehicles can be at a sighting) It is well after sunset, and the sighting is illuminated only by red lensed lights that do the least harm to night vision.
The male was there, and so were the lioness and her cubs we had seen before. All were feeding on something obscured by the brush about 10 yards to our right Unlike the cheetah, lion are not quiet when they eat. (There is a ripping sound interspersed with loud cracking.) They have little fear of something trying to steal their kill. There was a stench in the air that smelled like a horse barn. Sibu told us that the lions had spilled the stomach contents, I suppose that all herbivores have similar smelling waste.
We were near a dam and Sam, sitting next to me, said, I think I hear hippos coming. An entirely reasonable thought since the hippos had been booming their evening routine. (A thunderous "GROUGH" followed by and equally thunderous "How how how how" Though completely inhuman, it sounds for all the world like laughter.) Then the big male is away from the kill and moving our way. Sibu removes the red filter and points it toward the quiet crunching coming from the left that Sam had heard. This was no hippo, but a large croc, attracted by the smell of the stomach, looking for a free meal.
Sibu and another ranger agreed to back up and see if the lion and croc would fight. We move from nearly bumper to bumper to about 15 yards space. The lights are extinguished and Sibu's hushed voice explains that, some weeks ago, lions had killed a large croc. But that had taken hours and the efforts of an entire pride, about a dozen adults.
Illuminated now by only stars and the sliver of a crescent moon, we hear the lion rumbling it's warning. (It is tempting to compare the sound to the purring of a house kitty, but that sound you can only feel if you are holding the cat) The rumble moves towards where we had seen the croc, gets louder, then accompanied with a loud hiss, and the stap of the croc's jaws snapping shut. Red lights flare and the male glares at the croc, hidden in the grass, then turns toward us. Some flash pictures are taken from the other vehicle, and my camera is at the ready, but we are implored to just be still. He approaches Amanda, seated to the left in front of me, then looks directly at Sam on my left, steps forward to less than a body length away, turns toward the rear of the vehicle - around the back and down my side. At the moment, I thought I could touch him had I reached out my hand. In truth, I would have had to lean out a bit. Even though he was only two feet from the vehicle, I was seated higher than his head.
After determining that we were no threat, he moved ahead and between the vehicles, guarding the passage between the croc and the kill. We backed up a bit and saw the lioness dragging the carcase of a male nyala up the hill. Then heard her come back and scrape dirt and brush over the spilled entrails. The stench abated somewnat, the male followed back into the brush and we decided that it was time to leave them to finish the meal.
A Note on Method
The "Day 1, Day 2 . . ." methodology works well for me keeping notes, but there are things I want to say right away. Given the limits on time - (well, I have the time - but I'm also filling it up!). Also, the internet connection at Phinda (S 27° 51.8' - E 32° 18.4') is slightly more reliable than at Ngala, but no faster. So I've made an addition to the methodology. Things that are captioned other than "Day x", are out of order and happened just about when posted.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Day 2
A day at Ngala.
5:30 am, The guest safety staff come by to wake you up. Don't bother to shower, no one else will either. Just thow on some clothes.
6:00 Morning tea at the lodge. If you are ready before 6, call guest safety, otherwise at 6 it is light enough to walk to the lodge on your own.As soon as your group is assembled, you can go for the morning drive. (You want fleece and wind breaker in the morning. Mark says it's "fresh" I'd guess about 45 F. and in a moving vehicle)- Drinks and snacks toward the end of the morning, Breakfast upon return. For us that was 9:45 to 10, but luch is a drawn out affair, ending around 11 or so.
1:00 - 1:45 Lunch, if you have room. After that you have time for a shower, nap, catch up on blogging or what not.
3:00 Afternoon tea, and afternoon Drive.- Drinks and snacks at the end of the evening drive
Dinner on return, about 7:30 or so. (It's dark and quite cold by then.)I'd say if you don't get enough to eat around here, there is something wrong with you.
On the morning drive we found more impala, our first giraffe. This one was more shy than most. That whole camoflage scheme is quite effective. This giraffe just dissappeared in to the trees. Also a dazzle of zebra, a solitary wildebeast (gnu) bull, a black backed jackle, but no leopard. Solly tracked with one of the other trackers and they were able to locate a kill, fresh impala lodged in the crook of the tree. Mark was sure we would be able to simply go back in the evening and the leopard would be there.
Alas, the best laid plans of rangers and leopards. When afternoon rolled around, the impala was gone. Report was that the hyenas had it. since hyena don't climb, Mark suggested that the leopard must have shifted it and dropped it. Once that happened, hyenas are perfectly able to grab the meat for their own use. Solly was dropped off to try and find the track again while we headed again toward a watering hole. There we found a journey of giraffe and saw hippos sunning themselves.
While driving, we saw a large number of vultures in trees, Mark thought they might be waiting their turn at a kill. The leopard perhaps? So into the brush we went. It turns out there is a very good reason for the brush guards on those trucks, where there was no place to drive, Mark simply ran something over. Mostly small (3" dia. or so) trees. The acacia will pretty much bounce right back. The knobthorn, however are truly dangerous.There was no kill, but we did see a rhino mama and her baby, they obviously didn't mind the thorn bushes and we never really got a good look at them. Mark was determined to get closer, until Solly called on the radio, he had found the leopard!
We had barely enough light for a few pictures, then the leopard climed down
from his tree into the gathering gloom. Mark says he saw an impala, and showed it to us, we were in the open and both the impala and leopard in the edge of the brush. We watched the stalk in the twilight, the leopard, still a juvenile, ignoring it's mother's calls to come join her. Suddenly, the impala barked it's warning call, looked right at the leopard and started moving away. Mark immediatly declared the hunt over.
from his tree into the gathering gloom. Mark says he saw an impala, and showed it to us, we were in the open and both the impala and leopard in the edge of the brush. We watched the stalk in the twilight, the leopard, still a juvenile, ignoring it's mother's calls to come join her. Suddenly, the impala barked it's warning call, looked right at the leopard and started moving away. Mark immediatly declared the hunt over.Back to camp and Dinner.
Day 1
Day 1I have not been a reliable diarist. I've been keeping handwritten notes to then post here. But so much going on, I've not kept them up at all. I've caught them up now but my typing is way behind. I'll try to stay chronological in my posts though. As luck would have it, "Day 1" Coinsides with July 1, etc. By the way, if my "en route" did not include it, the GPS is S. 24d 22.9'; E. 31 d 19.3'.
On arrival at Ngala we checked in at reception. It id not a large place. I think there are a total of 21 double occupancy cabins. So reception is an informal affair, a desk in an open arch with a small office behind. Then a safety briefing. During the day when you leave your cabin, please latch the door (there are no key locks, as the people are all staff and need to be able to get in anyway. It's the baboons. They have worked out how to use the door handles, so don't forget the dead bolt! If you are inside, use the hook and eye bolt, the baboons will come in while you are there.
During daylight, it is ok to walk around the grounds, but stay no closer to the water hole than the path. (Any closer would be in some animal's discomfort zone and you may not see them.) At night only go escorted by staff. The camp is not fenced and in addition to baboon - who will trash your room but are not dangerous - there can be leopard, lion, elephant or rhino moving through the camp.
After lunch, a break to get settled, the tea at 3:00 followed by our first drive. The vehicles are Landrover trucks with the driver bench and three more benches behind. In addition there is a fold down jumpseat for the tracker. It looks for all the world like the cars on the "Temple of Doom" ride at Disney Land - Uh, no, scratch that; reverse it.
We are told that it is important to stay in the vehicle and don't stand. The animals are familiar with the silhouette of the vehicles and they are not perceived as threatening. If a giraffe perceives a threat, it will run away, if a lion perceives a threat it will attack.
Our guides are Mark, a white South African and Solly, a member of the local tribe. Mark also grew up in the area on a "farm" (read private game reserve) and is very experienced in the area.
All roads lead past the airstrip, and there we saw a herd of Impala. Mark says that
the black markings on their backsides warms the fur and attracts ticks, which they then sweep off with their tails. (Another guide later asks us what letter the markings look like. "Uhh well an "M" right?" -- Yes, that's right like McDonalds, because everyone eats there!) The goal is to find some leopard that Mark and Solly have been tracking for several days. We see sign of lots of other things, elephant tracks, termite mounds everywhere, then Cameron (my nephew) says from the back seat: "cheetah . . . Guys, Cheetah! . . . YO! CHEETAH 2 O'CLOCK!!" There was a cheetah lying in the grass that allowed us to drive right up to it. It is absolutely amazing to be so close to this amazing creature and her so completely non-plussed.
After seeing the Cheetah, we went further into the brush and dropped off Solly to track the leopard. So here we are in a big vehicle, with a rifle, and solly takes off on foot, armed with a two way radio. Mark says it is because they will be tracking and covering a lot of ground and a gun would just be extra dead weight.
We did not see other big game this first evening, Mark scouted covering lots of ground with the vehicle, and kept in radio contact with Solly, once we went where they were and Solly and another tracker steered us where they thought the leopard would be seen, but nothing. Eventually we stopped for drinks, Solly caught up to us, and we started the dusk / dark drive back to the lodge.
In the dark, Solly was back in his tracker chair with a spotlight that he flickered over the surrounding terrain and trees impossibly fast, occasionally pointing out nocternal creatures in the brush. How he could see them is a mystery, but he did. Even more amazing is that he could see the impala, steinbuck and other diurnal animals before spotlighting them, and avoiding them with the light. The nocternal creatures night vision returns very quickly. Not so for the diurnal. So to spotlight them would put them at a disadvantage for some time after we had gone.
Finally, back to the lodge and dinner, After an amazing day, bed by about 9:30.
On arrival at Ngala we checked in at reception. It id not a large place. I think there are a total of 21 double occupancy cabins. So reception is an informal affair, a desk in an open arch with a small office behind. Then a safety briefing. During the day when you leave your cabin, please latch the door (there are no key locks, as the people are all staff and need to be able to get in anyway. It's the baboons. They have worked out how to use the door handles, so don't forget the dead bolt! If you are inside, use the hook and eye bolt, the baboons will come in while you are there.
During daylight, it is ok to walk around the grounds, but stay no closer to the water hole than the path. (Any closer would be in some animal's discomfort zone and you may not see them.) At night only go escorted by staff. The camp is not fenced and in addition to baboon - who will trash your room but are not dangerous - there can be leopard, lion, elephant or rhino moving through the camp.
After lunch, a break to get settled, the tea at 3:00 followed by our first drive. The vehicles are Landrover trucks with the driver bench and three more benches behind. In addition there is a fold down jumpseat for the tracker. It looks for all the world like the cars on the "Temple of Doom" ride at Disney Land - Uh, no, scratch that; reverse it.
We are told that it is important to stay in the vehicle and don't stand. The animals are familiar with the silhouette of the vehicles and they are not perceived as threatening. If a giraffe perceives a threat, it will run away, if a lion perceives a threat it will attack.
Our guides are Mark, a white South African and Solly, a member of the local tribe. Mark also grew up in the area on a "farm" (read private game reserve) and is very experienced in the area.
All roads lead past the airstrip, and there we saw a herd of Impala. Mark says that
the black markings on their backsides warms the fur and attracts ticks, which they then sweep off with their tails. (Another guide later asks us what letter the markings look like. "Uhh well an "M" right?" -- Yes, that's right like McDonalds, because everyone eats there!) The goal is to find some leopard that Mark and Solly have been tracking for several days. We see sign of lots of other things, elephant tracks, termite mounds everywhere, then Cameron (my nephew) says from the back seat: "cheetah . . . Guys, Cheetah! . . . YO! CHEETAH 2 O'CLOCK!!" There was a cheetah lying in the grass that allowed us to drive right up to it. It is absolutely amazing to be so close to this amazing creature and her so completely non-plussed.After seeing the Cheetah, we went further into the brush and dropped off Solly to track the leopard. So here we are in a big vehicle, with a rifle, and solly takes off on foot, armed with a two way radio. Mark says it is because they will be tracking and covering a lot of ground and a gun would just be extra dead weight.
We did not see other big game this first evening, Mark scouted covering lots of ground with the vehicle, and kept in radio contact with Solly, once we went where they were and Solly and another tracker steered us where they thought the leopard would be seen, but nothing. Eventually we stopped for drinks, Solly caught up to us, and we started the dusk / dark drive back to the lodge.
In the dark, Solly was back in his tracker chair with a spotlight that he flickered over the surrounding terrain and trees impossibly fast, occasionally pointing out nocternal creatures in the brush. How he could see them is a mystery, but he did. Even more amazing is that he could see the impala, steinbuck and other diurnal animals before spotlighting them, and avoiding them with the light. The nocternal creatures night vision returns very quickly. Not so for the diurnal. So to spotlight them would put them at a disadvantage for some time after we had gone.
Finally, back to the lodge and dinner, After an amazing day, bed by about 9:30.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
To Ngala
Morning, July 1. We're not entirely rested, but a very good night's sleep anyway. Up at 8:00 and down for a lovely breakfast buffet where we played "guess the fruit." (I got the right answer on the passion fruit.)
Off to Federal Air, for the charter to Ngala. A small single engine for 10 passengers and a crew of 2. Karylinn Amanda and I got the first row right behind the pilots. Darvy, our captain looked like a late "twenty something". The co-pilot's name I can't remember, but I only saw the back of her head.
Leaving Jo-berg, most all of the landscape was farms with ponds and some large houses. But not all of it. At one point, I asked amanda to take a picture of one of the shanty towns out the other side of the plane. Darvy noticed and said, "why would you want a picture of that discusting area, you'll see much better things later on." Not having a thoughtful answer, I said nothing. Unusual for me, I know. He was right, though. Much better things were ahead.
Getting away from the smallish farms, we got to an area of open space, with trees only in the bottom of watercourses. Some of the farms appeared to be tree farms, some areas that were unmistakably pivot irrigated fields. About 2/3 way along we came to a farm with the buildings up high on a granite outcrop, brown dry fields all around, and then a granite edge, and an astonishing drop off covered with brush. At the bottom a sizeable town. Most of the streets appear to be red dirt, and the main drags paved. (For the google earth folks: S 24d 37.2' E 31d 12')
From the air out here, the land looks like eastern oregon; brown and dry with scrub brush in between. On reflection though, I think that the "scrub" is actually acacia trees, and probably elephant high!
At long last, our pilots turned throught a great deal of turbulance (is that a stall alarm that beeps periodically?) and pointed at a dirt strip. On arrival, our pilot announced our arrival at Skukuza. (Huh?!?) "We'll just be dropping off seven passengers, and then the rest of the way to Ngala" Oh, Ok, we didn't get on the wrong plane, that really was just a bit of my unnececssary paranoia. [Picture to follow when the internet connection is better]
The strip at Ngala was much less exciting. It is actually paved. When we landed our pilots didn't shut down then engines and warned us about the exhaust while getting out. "We've been having a bit of trouble with the starter . . ." (Ok, and yet you shut it down on that other strip??.) For heavens sake.
Once down, our luggage was collected and we hopped into the large landrover truck driven by Lyson, one of the rangers. He got the truck started toward the lodge, then while tooling along the rutted dirt road, turned to face us, spread both arms in a welcoming fashion and said "Welcome to Ngala!" Obviously he knew the road, because he turned around when he needed to steer.
We signed in, had a bit of lunch on the portico, and then gathered our things for the first game drive. More on that to come.
Off to Federal Air, for the charter to Ngala. A small single engine for 10 passengers and a crew of 2. Karylinn Amanda and I got the first row right behind the pilots. Darvy, our captain looked like a late "twenty something". The co-pilot's name I can't remember, but I only saw the back of her head.
Leaving Jo-berg, most all of the landscape was farms with ponds and some large houses. But not all of it. At one point, I asked amanda to take a picture of one of the shanty towns out the other side of the plane. Darvy noticed and said, "why would you want a picture of that discusting area, you'll see much better things later on." Not having a thoughtful answer, I said nothing. Unusual for me, I know. He was right, though. Much better things were ahead.
Getting away from the smallish farms, we got to an area of open space, with trees only in the bottom of watercourses. Some of the farms appeared to be tree farms, some areas that were unmistakably pivot irrigated fields. About 2/3 way along we came to a farm with the buildings up high on a granite outcrop, brown dry fields all around, and then a granite edge, and an astonishing drop off covered with brush. At the bottom a sizeable town. Most of the streets appear to be red dirt, and the main drags paved. (For the google earth folks: S 24d 37.2' E 31d 12')
From the air out here, the land looks like eastern oregon; brown and dry with scrub brush in between. On reflection though, I think that the "scrub" is actually acacia trees, and probably elephant high!
At long last, our pilots turned throught a great deal of turbulance (is that a stall alarm that beeps periodically?) and pointed at a dirt strip. On arrival, our pilot announced our arrival at Skukuza. (Huh?!?) "We'll just be dropping off seven passengers, and then the rest of the way to Ngala" Oh, Ok, we didn't get on the wrong plane, that really was just a bit of my unnececssary paranoia. [Picture to follow when the internet connection is better]The strip at Ngala was much less exciting. It is actually paved. When we landed our pilots didn't shut down then engines and warned us about the exhaust while getting out. "We've been having a bit of trouble with the starter . . ." (Ok, and yet you shut it down on that other strip??.) For heavens sake.
Once down, our luggage was collected and we hopped into the large landrover truck driven by Lyson, one of the rangers. He got the truck started toward the lodge, then while tooling along the rutted dirt road, turned to face us, spread both arms in a welcoming fashion and said "Welcome to Ngala!" Obviously he knew the road, because he turned around when he needed to steer.
We signed in, had a bit of lunch on the portico, and then gathered our things for the first game drive. More on that to come.
En Route - 6/29 +++
Well, we were us again. Ready to go about midnight before the flight, which is a problem if the ride to the airport is to show up at 4:00.
First hop was to Atlanta. It was a pretty normal flight there. The only thing of note was that we needed to start our anti-malarial drugs, which we are scheduled to take at lunch each day. (Easier on the stomach that way.) The only problem is that "lunch" in africa was at 3:00 am when we left. No one told me there was going to be math to do on this trip.
Atlanta to Dakar was also fairly normal travel, just really long at 9 1/2 hours. We arrived at 4:30 am. (Dakar is PDT+7) At this point things started to get a bit odd.
It truly is 3rd world there. We got off of the plane on the tarmack, not near the terminal in a quaint tropical way, but out where they thought it was a good idea to park, with busses waiting. But no one seemed to know which bus to get on. The one for those staying in Dakar? or the one for transfers to other flights within Senegal. Finally a young man from the staff took charge of us and took us to the terminal.
Once there, we had to produce our immigration forms. WHich form? The one they gave us on the plane, but thought we didn't need. The flight attendants said it was for passengers terminating in Senegal. Fortunately we are the cautious type. So we had the forms, which were dutifully checked and our passports were stamped with entry stamps. Entry stamps?? Are you sure this is the right line? Oops, karylinn's passport didn't get stamped, and so was passed back. The officer didn't even look up, just stamped it.
Then around the corner to a randomly placed x-ray machine. Our bags went through, but no one was looking at the screen. Then around a bit further still to another check point where we were asked to fill out a form. "Uh, sir, we gave that form to the other officer." The response was to do it again. So we filled out the same form again. Once done, we earned out exit stamps.
Ok, exit stamps done, then another x-ray and another metal detector. The officer was, again, not looking at the machine. When I beeped going through the metal detector, I didn't get a glance, simply a dismissive wave to go back and do it again.
There were more layers of security, but mostly more of the same. What is ironic about it all, is that the security seemed designed for those who respond to security. There were any number of places where one could simply go outside and walk around the building, avoiding it all. Even when we got to our "gate" we waited in that area, then out through a door -- to a bus -- where people wandered in and out, as though they just walked around the building.
Two last interesting things about Dakar. First, after getting on the plane, seated, doors closed, etc. the flight attendants walked each aisle spraying but spray in the air. Apparently so not to take Senegalese bugs to South Africa.
Second, Senegal is an odd country. There is another country "the Gambia" that follows the river 2/3 of the way up river, cutting off the southern part of the country. Flying over it, I can guess why. The Gambia river ends in a massive delta system of interlinking channels with swamp in between. If someone said "this is our land" I can well imagine the answer being "really? Ok, welcome to it!" All kidding aside, it was an amazing thing to see.
Finally arrived in Jo-berg at about 5:00 pm, made our way to the hotel, and cleaned up a bit. Then back to the airport to gather up Amanda who came in with the rest of the family from Amsterdam. By the time we had retreived her, we had been in transit for 34 hours, with about 5 hours of naps on the way. Even the casino with indoor rollercoaster held no charms compared to a good night's sleep. Fortunately we don't have to go to the game camp until tomorrow.
First hop was to Atlanta. It was a pretty normal flight there. The only thing of note was that we needed to start our anti-malarial drugs, which we are scheduled to take at lunch each day. (Easier on the stomach that way.) The only problem is that "lunch" in africa was at 3:00 am when we left. No one told me there was going to be math to do on this trip.
Atlanta to Dakar was also fairly normal travel, just really long at 9 1/2 hours. We arrived at 4:30 am. (Dakar is PDT+7) At this point things started to get a bit odd.
It truly is 3rd world there. We got off of the plane on the tarmack, not near the terminal in a quaint tropical way, but out where they thought it was a good idea to park, with busses waiting. But no one seemed to know which bus to get on. The one for those staying in Dakar? or the one for transfers to other flights within Senegal. Finally a young man from the staff took charge of us and took us to the terminal.
Once there, we had to produce our immigration forms. WHich form? The one they gave us on the plane, but thought we didn't need. The flight attendants said it was for passengers terminating in Senegal. Fortunately we are the cautious type. So we had the forms, which were dutifully checked and our passports were stamped with entry stamps. Entry stamps?? Are you sure this is the right line? Oops, karylinn's passport didn't get stamped, and so was passed back. The officer didn't even look up, just stamped it.
Then around the corner to a randomly placed x-ray machine. Our bags went through, but no one was looking at the screen. Then around a bit further still to another check point where we were asked to fill out a form. "Uh, sir, we gave that form to the other officer." The response was to do it again. So we filled out the same form again. Once done, we earned out exit stamps.
Ok, exit stamps done, then another x-ray and another metal detector. The officer was, again, not looking at the machine. When I beeped going through the metal detector, I didn't get a glance, simply a dismissive wave to go back and do it again.
There were more layers of security, but mostly more of the same. What is ironic about it all, is that the security seemed designed for those who respond to security. There were any number of places where one could simply go outside and walk around the building, avoiding it all. Even when we got to our "gate" we waited in that area, then out through a door -- to a bus -- where people wandered in and out, as though they just walked around the building.
Two last interesting things about Dakar. First, after getting on the plane, seated, doors closed, etc. the flight attendants walked each aisle spraying but spray in the air. Apparently so not to take Senegalese bugs to South Africa.
Second, Senegal is an odd country. There is another country "the Gambia" that follows the river 2/3 of the way up river, cutting off the southern part of the country. Flying over it, I can guess why. The Gambia river ends in a massive delta system of interlinking channels with swamp in between. If someone said "this is our land" I can well imagine the answer being "really? Ok, welcome to it!" All kidding aside, it was an amazing thing to see.
Finally arrived in Jo-berg at about 5:00 pm, made our way to the hotel, and cleaned up a bit. Then back to the airport to gather up Amanda who came in with the rest of the family from Amsterdam. By the time we had retreived her, we had been in transit for 34 hours, with about 5 hours of naps on the way. Even the casino with indoor rollercoaster held no charms compared to a good night's sleep. Fortunately we don't have to go to the game camp until tomorrow.
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