Elizabeth M Reese

LION ENCOUNTER

2011-10-12T10:54:00.000+01:00

Whilst I was working at Nemba Safaris, the owner’s daughter and I were sent from camp back to the farm to stock up on supplies. We were designated an old land rover bakkie that had no doors and no roof, which did not worry either of us having done this route on numerous occasions without incident. We even decided to put the wind screen down whilst driving through the park, as we would not be going at any great speed.
We set off from camp after breakfast and being two girls let free from clients, we were in high spirits with the wind whipping through our hair and not a care in the world. We immediately started jabbering away as we trundled down the first stretch of the road which was fairly dense bush, but easy going as you just let the vehicle steer its way down the ruts of thick Kalahari sand.

We were half way down the track of thick sand before hitting the harder calcrete road, when Leanne pointed and shouted “Lion!” I immediately stopped and being the intrepid photographer, grabbed my camera and started taking photos. I wanted to reverse a bit to take some better shots without bush interrupting my vision. I carried on snapping away and Leanne oohed and aahed about what a beautiful specimen he was. When I finally decided that I was happy with the pictures I had got, I put my camera down and decided to take a look around to see if there were any other lions around, only to discover that there was a female lying right next to the road. We had passed her going north, and then reversed passed her and now had to go past her again to carry on our trip! When all this sunk in we became decidedly terrified of having to drive past her again. We sat around for a bit on the baking hot African sun waiting to see if she would move – but as luck would have it she decided she was perfectly happy with the spot she was in. So we held our breaths and put foot down, kept our eyes forward and took off as fast as our little landie would go in the thick sand.

After that, we decided we had better be a little more vigilant about looking out for game, whilst carrying on with our girlie chats.

ELEPHANT BULL

2011-09-02T10:31:00.000+01:00

As the big fiery ball began to make its way to retirement for the day, my body was hot and sweaty, so I ambled on down to the water-hole with my ears flapping to cool my body and keep the buzzers away. An orchestra of birds was warbling a song for me, and a troop of monkeys were hoping around me in the tree tops getting a last bite to eat before nightfall.

A few of my rellies were at the pan and we enjoyed a good long welcoming drink from the clean piped water, before having a much appreciated swim in the pan. Ahh what bliss! When I had finished up with my immersion I mumbled a cheerio to my herd and ambled off feeding and coating my skin with cool Kalahari sand to keep nasties off my skin. When I got to the hard baked road there were two very large colourful machines making their way towards me. I thought, well there is not much else to do so let’s have some fun. I decided to stroll down the road in front of them. Unfortunately, a pang in my stomach soon got the better of my so decided to step off the road and grab a bunch of lush green grass shoots.

While I was enjoying a juicy morsel the two irritating machines tried to creep up closer to me, so I wandered back onto the road to see if they would back off. Damn, that pang is back – gotta sort it out – time for another munch. Amazingly enough every time I had to relieve the hunger the noisy machines would creep up again. Soon another green machine started coming down the road towards me making a loud banging noise. Darn it is the man who is in charge of the park and now he is going to spoil all my entertainment!! Oh well, that was fun while it lasted!!

THE GREAT ESCAPE

2011-08-04T10:36:00.000+01:00

One day for some reason, as all kids do, my sister, Karen and I decided to run away from home at the very mature age of 11 and 14 respectively. There was no forethought to packing a suitcase or taking provisions with us, only our terrier called Winnie.

We snuck off from the house early one morning while Dad was at work and Mum was too busy with house chores to notice our disappearance. We ambled down the dirt road and across the vlei in front of our house towards the airstrip as if we had all the time in the world. We lived in Hwange National Park and the airstrip was only used for Parks planes and small private ones, as it did not have a long enough runway for anything bigger. We decided it was best to go to the east of the airstrip as it was in an alcove of trees and no-one from the front row of houses would see us.

We were feeling quite chuffed with ourselves for getting this far and no-one seeing us and stopping us. We were eager to get behind cover of the trees and sauntered around the corner only to come face to face with a ‘giant’ Saddle-billed stork. It was taller than either of us! Our bravado was short lived and we took off at a sprint around the next clump of trees. Well you can imagine our fear when we saw an elephant bull standing on the other side of the airstrip. By now our hearts were racing and we were so petrified that we took off along the airstrip in the opposite direction at great speed. Finally, we decided that we were far enough away to start walking again, added to the fact that we were quite breathless from both fear and exertion.

By now our adventurous spirit had deserted us completely and hunger was gnawing at our guts so home didn’t seem like such a bad place to be after all. We strolled down the dirt road back towards the houses with Winnie in tow, when suddenly as Yellow-billed kite started dive bombing us over and over again. Once again we ran as fast as our little legs could carry us but not fast enough for that kite. It picked on the smallest body and actually took a hunk of hair out of Winnie’s coat! Well that was just the final straw. With tears streaming down our faces, voices hoarse from screaming we were desperate to get back to the comfort and safety of home.

All thoughts of running away from home totally out of our little minds!

CULLING OF ELEPHANT IN WANKIE NATIONAL PARK

2011-07-21T09:25:00.000+01:00

I am going to write now on the controversial subject of Culling that went on in Wankie. I know a lot of people will have a lot to say on the subject, but it had to be done and has been and gone.

Imagine there were two men and eight women in a house with a freezer and pantry full of food and drink. Now there is no access to the outside world, so no extra sustenance can be obtained. Due to lack of entertainment breeding will take place, so numbers will multiply, and food will diminish – so what is going to happen? Eventually the folk in the house will die off. This is akin to the 1970/71 draught in Kenya’s Tsavo National Park when they decided to let nature take its course and they had 6000 elephants perish due to lack of food or water. What an agonising death!! I saw a sable manage to get within a couple of metres of a pumped waterhole and collapse first onto bent front legs and then let out a heart rendering below as death slowly came over him. Some of you will say this is nature, but man has restricted these animals so they cannot roam as far and wide as they did in David Livingstone’s time, so man must now look after them (elephants and all other animals) and their habitat.
Now put this scenario to herds of elephant that man has now confined to a National Park – they eventually cause destruction to the trees with either pushing them over to get the foliage and pods at the top of the tree or ring barked them, so they don’t have a chance to re-grow but die off, and the grasslands are denuded to just Kalahari sand – what are these animals now going to eat, never mind the rest of the animal population that is in the same National Park.
During drought years in Wankie elephant would rip up the pipes from the pump to the water hole to try and obtain water. They have even knocked down fences to picnic sites and tried to get water from where there was a tap to supply visitors with water. They have pushed over windmills in search of water. A moat had to be built around all windmills and pumps to try and keep the elephants from destroying them. An article in the Rhodesian Chronicle states on the Dett vlei “Courtney Selous hunted on it and spoke of its thriving plant and animal life. Its name derived from ndetima, meaning a marsh or bog, testifies to this. Investigation has shown parts of it were covered by vast forests. Today much of the vlei, running for more than 15km near the main entrance to Wankie National Park, is a dustbowl. Repeated fires and cattle grazing have taken their toll. Little vegetation grows and most animals keep well clear. Rangers have travelled long distances to investigate what they thought was smoke, only to find it was a dust storm on the vlei.” Overgrazing!! I did a trip through Hwange September 2011 and found there was a lot of destruction in the Mopane woodland, and will be interested to see the results in August 2011 when we do another trip through Hwange, as now there is no culling, just poaching from higher officials!
Dad did try and keep as many pumps and windmills in the Park (even in the wilderness areas) operating so that animals would be dispersed to save the vegetation being destroyed around just a few pans. He also used to get the Parks pilots to fly the Park and if any of the pump attendants had a problem with their pump they could wave at the pilot who would then inform ground staff to go out and fix them. Often Dad flew with the pilot.
The men that did the culling operations did not enjoy this job, but were professional about it, with killing a herd in under a minute and darting the younger animals. This is far cry from what Adolf Hitler did – killing 17 million civilians including 6 million Jews targeted in the Holocaust and between 500 000 and 1 500 000 Roma (Adolf Hitler – Wikipedia), and what a lot of other leaders have done to mankind, just read Peter Godwin latest book “The Fear The Last Days of Mugabe”, the genocide going on in Africa. Are these leaders being made to account for their sins? The rest of the world idly sit back, complain but do nothing! One day they will all meet their maker!! All the meat was dried and sold to the local community, the ivory was the property of the Government and the skins sold and the only thing left was the intestines and entrails. The profits of these sales would then go back into National Parks to maintain the roads, pumps and rest camps.

This exert was taken from Dad’s diary:
MONDAY 1 AUGUST 1977
First cull from Linkwasha – 24 including 2 captured one each for Bristow and Schulz. Barrie flew with Mike while I went down with Len Roberts – just beyond Mandundumela.
Average dried meat per elephant 97 kilo last year – 106 kilos this year.
Average hide – weighed after 5 days in salt 137 kilos.
Wild Life Contractors paid 80c per kilo for dried meat while in Salisbury 95c per kilo – hide fluctuates current $2.15 per kilo, but last year 85c.
Usual profit in a year $4000.00 after all expenses, income tax, depreciation and interest.
Len paid $20 per day while on the job – so much per hour for use of his plane on company business – allowed on trip per week to his ranch on the company. Private land rovers so much per mile on company work – amount per hour and mile not stated.

The timber used for drying the meat on had to what was lying around due to elephant destruction. They would take on an average of 25 elephant a day within a 30 mile radius of their camp site if possible.
The young elephants were taken to holding pens at Umtishibi to settle down before being sold off. Now folk might think this is awful to have one’s family shot and now be homeless, but think of a child who is dumped or given up for adoption! How many of you folk reading this can remember your life as a two or three year old – not many of us remember those years of our lives – we are resilient at that age. A lot of these babies are now being used for tourists to interact with them and get to learn all about them in safari camps. I don’t whole heartedly agree with riding them, as they are still a wild animal and should be entitled to their former life. I always wanted a squirrel as a pet in my youth, but Dad would not allow it, as he said they are wild animals and must stay wild.

This is just my point of view, and may not be everyone’s. I grew up in National Parks, so enjoy seeing the animals in their natural environment, and do feel that hunting and culling is a necessary action to keep population from exploding and destroying themselves and the vegetation.

MY MEMORIES OF WANKIE GAME RESERVE – WANKIE NATIONAL PARK – HWANGE NATIONAL PARK

2011-07-08T09:20:00.000+01:00

In the late 1940 early 1950.
Mr and Mrs Davidson (Ted and Connie) were great friends of my family and we were lucky enough to spend time with them in the Wankie Game Reserve. We would stay in one of the little thatched rondavels. Going for game drives, I would sit in the back of Mr Davidson’s vehicle with his sons and we loved going to Dom pan or on to Nyamanhlovu pan.

Nyamandlovu Pan

At both of these pans there were windmills which would pump water into to troughs which would over flow, creating pans. The windmills had to be protected as the elephant would push them over when they were not working looking for the fresh water. This was done by 2 huge trenches dug around the windmill. On the one at Nyamanhlovu a platform was built so one could sit up there on a full moon night and see the animals come down to drink. It was very exciting, but quite frightening.

Leadwood Tree at Dom Pan

We would also go and feed Beadle (a resident crocodile). Beadle got the name from Sir Hugh Bead, who was the Chief Magistrate of Bulawayo. Sir Hugh was given three newly hatched crocodiles to keep in his fish pond in Bulawayo.
They grew well but found the pond too small so Sir Hugh gave them to Ted to put in Nyamanlovu pan.
Being so small they had to be fed and this carried on for many years. I am not sure what happened to 2 of them but it ended up with just the one, known for years as Beadle. Feeding became dangerous as Beadle got bigger, he felt that the person bringing the food was a nicer meal that the piece of meat, and so it eventually had to stop. The research team monitored him regularly, darting him to measure him etc. I am not sure but I think it was in the 1970 that they decided Beadle was a female. I was in the Park in 2010, there was a huge crocodile still at Nyamanhlovu which I felt could still be Lady Beadle which would now make her approx. 70 years old.
The end of 1966 – 1967. Six short months.
Wankie National Park had grown. It was no longer known as a game reserve but had become a National Park. The Game department had amalgamated with National Parks and so was now known as The Department of National Parks and Wildlife Management.
There was now a tourist office combined with the main admin office, a restaurant, a camping/ caravan place and chalets plus 2 lodges, Sable and Impala. The Regional Warden had his own little hut as his office, in front of the single staff accommodation. The Davidson’s house was much bigger than the other houses and more houses had to be built for staff. There was now an air strip made in the vlei in front of the houses. Planes would fly in daily bringing tourist. These would be met by the Tourist officer and taken to their different accommodation. To then be taken later on game drives.

Ted Davidson's House

There were many new roads made for game drives. The windmills were slowly being replaces by diesel pumps so more places in the Park had pans that were being pumped daily, during the dry season. This would entail usually 2 people or else husband and wife teams living at the pans in a hut keeping the diesel pumps going. There was a regular truck taking fuel around to the different places approximately every ten days to two weeks. This same truck would take rations for the people as well as spares parts for the pumps. If they could they would fix the engine themselves but if unsuccessful it would them be reported and the mechanic would then go out himself.
There were 2 drivers (Munwerei, Maneni) who were amazing and would take the 5 ton Bedford through unbelievably thick sand without getting stuck or else over terrible tracks. They knew what they were doing,
Farms had been bought and there was now Robin’s camp at the north end of the Park and Sinamatella was being built. It was the policy of National Parks that camps would be built on the periphery of the park and not in the centre.
The management unit was based at Sharpi in tent this was moved later to pole and dagger huts upon a ridge.
1972 – 1982
The Park kept growing. Two rows of staff house had been built, a new Provincial Wardens house built, plus a big compound with houses for all staff, more lodges were being built and a lovely big restaurant with VIP lounge, The Waterbuck’s Head bar, craft shop and a small super market with basic food , cold drinks and lots of Ice, for sale. The old restaurant did become a library/museum during the war.
The Park was split up into different areas. Wilderness area where 4x4 driven vehicles could go and people were allowed to camp in designated area and do walks, Forrest areas.
Controlled hunting safaris were started up in the north western area along the out skirts of the park.
Southern Sun had been given permission to build a luxury hotel at the top end of the Dete Vlei. A new international airport was completed so no longer planes would land at Main Camp. This accommodated 2 flights daily from Harare, to Vic Falls via Kariba and Wankie, flying back again in the afternoon. (Reversing the flight in the afternoon)
All camps would get electricity. A very big reservoir was built for water for Main Camp, and one at Sinamatella.
Sharpi management camp was moved to Umtishibi with new houses for staff, plus a big work shop, storerooms, holding pens and a small airstrip, for the management team. Big fire guards were cut on the edge of the Park and throughout the Park. This consisted of 2 parallel graded tracks cut and the area in between burnt. These were maintained every year.
Culling operation was carried out, gully and soil erosion done plus other conservation work.
Picnic sites were built where people could alight from their vehicle and rest or have a meal. The children could run around and make a noise. Clean water laid on plus ablutions blocks built. Later one was allowed to spend the night at these different places for a small fee.

The main restaurant and bar.

By Kate Reese

MATOPOS

2011-07-04T16:04:00.001+01:00

We were stationed at Matopas from 1st May 1967 to 31st December 1970, so I was just 4 years old when we started there. Mum started teaching me in 1969 via correspondence, and every morning we would listen to our teacher give a lesson on the radio and then Mum would go through it with us and we would have to send our work in weekly. We used to take lessons in a little stone gazebo that had a bougainvillea growing over it, by the pool. (Our house has since burnt down and has been re-built). The only story I remember of Mum teaching me, was being pulled over the gazebo wall as there was a snake hanging from the bougainvillea. The maid, “Maggie”, thought that Mum was murdering me – as she came running out the house, which was quite a feat, as she was rather large, to investigate what was happening.
Mum used to call Karen and me “rock rabbits”, as we used to love climbing the rocks. Our house was situated up against the rocks and had a view of Pomangwe, a huge granite rock in front of us. We used to love climbing the rocks following the pipeline at 5.00pm to go and meet Dad as he finished work. I believe that Mark Williams and I got stuck in a crevice of rocks and Dad had to get us out by rope. There was a gap in some rocks behind the tourist office which led to the tennis courts. We used brace ourselves to run through to get to the tennis courts and swings, as there was a monitor lizard that lived in the crack and he used to hiss at us, which terrified our little souls. As you can see from the pictures we were wee little girls.

One of our favourite past time – fishing
From where the rest camp and staff houses where, there was a steep hill down to Maleme Dam, and I remember the parks tractor going down the hill and his brakes failed him and he went straight into the dam. I was always scared going down in a vehicle after that. Dad also used to hold my arms and drop me down the side of the dam wall to measure the height of the water.
Dad was the responsible to the building of Fish Eagle and Black Eagle Lodges which has a beautiful view over the spillway, which was a crevice filled with huge granite boulders. Whilst hammering a nail in the roof he hammered his nail, and Mum got him some liquid paraffin and he held his thumb in that for 20 minutes to get rid of the throbbing – it worked!!

Not that I remember too much of Matopas, we did enjoy the freedom of being able to climb the rocks and explore. I know my poor sister had a hard time keeping up, but she made sure she managed!!

DURING THE RHODESIAN WAR

2011-07-01T09:11:00.000+01:00

SATURDAY 29 AUGUST 1977
Second ambush in Park about 200 metres from previous ambush – occurred about 16:10

TUESDAY 27 DECEMBER 1977
Ambush on road to Shumba – somewhere between White Hills and Shapi. Beyond Shapi about 4kms.

It was a scary time for us children being between the ages of 14 and 11. We had huge grenade screens put up outside our bedrooms windows that were filled with granite chips for about ¾’s of the way up. About 1½ metres from the main bedroom window they had built a wall about ¾’s of the way up and then chicken mesh from there to the roof. In front of our entire glass doors on the verandah we had “Trojan horses” (these were wooden boxes on wheels filled with granite chips). The verandah was also enclosed in chicken mesh, and this was an ideal place for me for keep my budgie. During the day we went about our exploring without much thought for the war, but night times was fearful for me. I would be convinced that there would be terrorists sitting in the trees and they could see me from above the granite chips and were going to shoot me. If I was really scared then I would creep into the passage and grab a sleeping bag and go and sleep on the floor at the foot of Mum and Dad’s bed. I felt safe there as Dad had a revolver by his side of the bed.

Some nights though I would jump into my sister’s bed and hug her tightly and talk to her. Our conversation would go something like this:
“Did you hear that noise?” me
“Yes I did.” Karen
“What do you think it was?” me
“I don’t know.” Karen
“Can you repeat the noise?” me
Silence – then I knew that she was talking to me in her sleep and I would just hug her tighter in the hope that sleep would come back to me and the noises would go away!

When I got a little older, I was allowed to have to room at the end of the house, which was normally the guest room. I put all my toys in there and decorated for myself, BUT, I never spent one night in there, I always slept in the middle room with my sister, as I was just too scared.

Mum also decided that the spaces on the ground between the wall and the chicken mesh would be a good place to breed rabbits to sell to the staff in camp, and they would make the most awful noises during the night which would add to the idea that there were definitely terrorists out there in the dead of night.

We had am agric-alert radio in our house and there was one in the house behind us which was linked to all the farmers in the Gwaai area, which was about 35kms away. So when the alarm went off at night it set our hearts racing as you were never sure if it was right behind you or one of the farmers, as we had not learnt everyone’s call signs.

Our trips to and from Bulawayo we were supposed to join in a convoy from the Gwaai Hotel, which had an armed vehicle in the fron, the rear and one in the middle. Unfortunately, our vehicle could not always go the speed that the convoy went at, so we would go it alone, which was not always wise, because if you broke down then no-one from a convoy or individual would stop and help you. I would spend most of the 3 hour journey holding my thumbs.

Thankfully we were left alone at Main Camp, even though there were a lot of ambushes along the Victoria Falls/Bulawayo road and also in the National Park. I think we were quite lucky having the wild animals around us. There were siting’s of suspicious boot prints around Sadina pan which was at one end of the airfield, and they tracked them to the compound, but we never found them. Dad did have an informer, Umfigaroro, who would listen in to conversations of movements etc. and then let Dad know. When we had left Hwange and moved back to the Gwaai area we used to go and visit him at his home kraal and take him oil, mealie meal and sugar. In exchange he would give us baskets, drums or other items that they had made. When we left the young children of the village would love to jump on the back of the bakkie and get a ride to the end of the road.

Our house at Main Camp when we lived there in 1972-1982

The same house in 2011

ANOTHER GAME COUNT

2011-06-24T07:34:00.000+01:00

We decided to do another game count and this time we were situated at the southern end of the park at Wexcau in the ‘Wild Area’ of Hwange where tourists are not allowed in their own private vehicles and covered an area of 6827 sq. km’s. They can only go there with a professional safari operator, so nice and peaceful. We borrowed a friend’s 4x4 bakkie and headed off soon after breakfast to be there in time to set up and be ready to count by 12 noon. We had ‘Aussie’ Cathy with us again.
When we arrived we decided that we would set up on the north side of the pan, even though the only big tree was a lovely Leadwood tree on the south side, it had far too much evidence of elephant rubbings on it and all the elephant paths ran off in that direction!!
We were all set and ready at 12noon in anticipation of some animals coming down to drink. Well we had a very long afternoon with absolutely nothing, so had to contend with counting birds and bugs- exciting for some of us, but not everyone in the party. We also caught up on a lot of whispered chats, reading and sipping tea to while away the hours. Sun downers came and went, and dinner and still no animals. Half the party decided they would go to sleep, so Cathy and I offered to do the first shift. We settle down next to vehicle on a tarpaulin and gazed up at the stars and chatted.

Around about 8pm when all was quiet and a few snores where heard from the bakkie an elephant bull came sauntering out of the bush opposite us for a drink. He also seemed to be enjoying the peace and quiet, as he was in no rush. It was lovely to just sit and enjoy listening to him sucking water up and the excess dropping back into the pan like a dripping tap.
When finally he decided to meander off he started heading off to the right of the pan and us. Cathy was now convinced that he was heading our way. I repeatedly kept telling her not to worry he was far away and not coming in our direction. But she was not convinced. Finally he headed into the bush and we lost sight of in the shadows cast by the moonlight.
About ten minutes later lo and behold he started coming out of the bush behind us, well you can imagine the fright we got. We both rolled under the vehicle (thankfully had high clearance) and waited for him to satisfy his curiosity as to what we were. Cathy was full of glee that she was right, but I am still convinced that she telepathically lured him our way!!

Thankfully after that the rest of the party had woken up with our commotion, so we swopped shifts and we put our heads down for a good sleep before facing a new day.
The next six hours of daylight counting did not produce much either, except for a couple of zebra!! But it was just good to be out in the bush away from phones and noise. Highly recommended to anyone who enjoys the wildlife and nature.

HWANGE NATIONAL PARK

2011-06-21T06:59:00.001+01:00

Here are some facts of Hwange, that some people might find quite interesting.

A recent study (Wetenhall 1991) found that:
1. The number of tourist doubled between 1986 and 1990
2. Tourist revenues attributed to the park have increased from ZW$3.1million in 1987 to ZW$17 million in 1991.
3. The park management budget has declined from ZW$815 thousand to ZW $688 thousand over the same period.

TOTAL NUMBER OF VISITORS PASSING THROUGH EACH OF THE 3 TOURIST CAMPS FROM 1980 – 1987 SINAMATELA

1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 TOTAL
MAIN CAMP 11132 25592 26334 20757 24867 40785 45762 41730 95682
3481 659 5134 3880 3759 9272 8694 6748 10979
ROBINS 818 914 1407 688 1394 1615 1668 1932 10436
TOTAL 15431 27165 32875 25325 30020 51072 56124 50410 117097

TOURIST REVENUE
JANUARY TO DECEMBER 1987
MAIN CAMP 302 829.53
SINAMATELLA 81 002.80
ROBINS 13 929.15

397 761.48
(Bet they can't brag about this figure anymore!!)

HISTORY OF DAM BUILDING
1936 Masuma, Mtoa 1¤ & 2¤
1938 Deteema
1951 Nantwich, Robins, Tshingahobi
1953 Mandavu, Masuma 2¤
1955 Tshompani, Gomo and Limpande
1958 Inyantue (Masuma 2 broke and was never repaired)
1965 Leasha (borehole sunk)
1971 Salt Pans
¤ = collapsed

DRILLING DATES
1969 BAOBAB 1957 LINKWASHA 1963 SECHECHE
1965 BASHA 1957 MANDUNDAMELLA 1936 SHAPI
1963 BEAVER 1970 MAHOBOTI 1936 SHUMBA
1970 BUMBUZI 1957 MAKALOLO 1 1959 SIDINA
1969 BUMBUMUTSA 1963 MAKONA 1973 SINANGA

CULLING FIGURES FOR WANKIE NATIONAL PARK

1971 1304
1972 972
1973 -
1974 698
1975 432
1976 552
1977 650
TOTAL 4608

NUMBERS OF CARNIVORES SHOT 1928 - 1933
YEAR LION LEOPARD CHEETAH HYAENA WILD DOG
1928/9 18 4 15 10
1930 5 5 9 2
1931 13 3 1 11 4
1932 3 1 1 1 14
1933 0 2 17
1934 7
1935 7
1936 2
TOTAL 55 13 2 38 47

(Nothing from 1936 to when we left in 1982!!)

RECORDS OF RHINO INTRODUCED TO WANKIE NATIONAL PARK
BLACK WHITE
1962 8
1963 40
1966/67 35
1980 5
1983 2
1984 21
1985 31
1986 34 5
TOTAL 134 47

Airstrips at : Main Camp, Cement, Robins, Sanyati, Sinamatella, Shapi, Josivanini, Shumba, Tshbema, Dandari, Umtishibi, Njekwa, Libuti.

Sorry this may bore some folk, but for the others who lived or worked in or around Hwange National Park I think they will find it quite interesting. Unfortunately, most of those rhino that were introduced have been poached by now, alot of the boreholes that were put in are not in operation any more and certainly most of the airstrips are no longer usable.

s at

GWAAI RIVER HOTEL

2011-06-10T10:48:00.000+01:00

I feel that I have to mention this unique hotel, as this was where all our socialising would go on with the local farming community, which had wonderful people living in it.
The hotel was owned by Mr and Mrs Broomberg and was situated about ½ ways between Bulawayo and the Victoria Falls and had a reputation for their hospitality and ‘Gwaai pies’. From fishermen, businessmen, holiday makers and foreigners, they all had to stop to refuel, have a drink or one of their famous pies. There were also many a New Year’s Eve, birthday or impromptu party held there. The bar was filled with bank notes from all around the world and has been gazed at by millions. Mr Broomberg would always make a point of popping into the bar and having a chat with anyone who was there. If there was a big party going on, people would offer to buy him a drink and he would turn to the barman and say “I’ll have one of mine”, to which the barman would take a bottle of ‘whisky’ off the shelf and pour him a tot over ice. Not many people knew that that whisky bottle was filled with tea. I was never sure how some of the locals made it home as they had to cross the low level bridge, I am sure they did it VERY slowly with the wheels bouncing off the curb stones, as it was a single lane bridge. In the dining room there was a” Punka Walla” fan, and we used to laugh, as it would slow down, and then suddenly speed up and we would all say that someone must have given the boy a coke. It was a left over from the days when the hotel used to run on generators.

When we lived at Wankie, Mum and Dad regularly went to the hotel for the Lions meeting and had a social afterwards. Once it got to our bedtime we were made to go to sleep in the back of the car which was parked at the rear of the hotel. We hated to leave the fun, but one had to obey their parents!

A Zebra and a mule taking a drink from the pool

The children would have wild times in the swimming pool playing on a blown up tractor tube, or jumping on the trampoline, or occasionally playing a round of put-put while the adults had a Saturday afternoon of tennis.

Overlooking the pool to the bedrooms Trampoline
Most of the walls of the hotel and bedrooms were held together by love and white ants. If you knocked on the walls they sounded very hollow, and you certainly did not go there for a romantic weekend as your neighbours were bound to hear everything!

We even had President Mugabe fly in to visit the ceramic factory next door and have a cup of tea. There was great excitement, as it is not every day that one gets to see their President outside of a television box.
A lot of the farmers and later safari operators would order their supplies, anything from groceries to farm equipment, from Bulawayo and it would be transported up by RMS (Road Motor Transport, and was owned by the Railways), which would arrive on a Friday afternoon at the hotel and folk would collect their goods from there. This of course could easily lead to a social afternoon if people had nothing pressing on their agenda.
I did go back and visit the site in 2010, and remember all the happy memories of the hotel, and thought well that chapter of our lives is over and we are all now in a new one.

2011-06-03T14:20:00.001+01:00

Part Iii of Our 2010 Zimbabwe Trip Slideshow: Elizabeth’s trip to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe was created by TripAdvisor. See another Victoria Falls slideshow. Create a free slideshow with music from your travel photos.

KATE'S VIEW OF OPERATION SLINGSHOT

2011-05-12T06:37:00.000+01:00

Yes I had only been married three weeks and adjusting to living in this out of the way station with
just my husband. I was terrified at having to cook for my husband on a wood stove having been used to electric stoves - never mind having our first two guests coming to stay. But the two people coming were wonderful people and could not have been more hospitable – they ate everything that I
produced, which gave me some courage to carry on with my cooking! I was now trying to make bread for the first time. For some reason I was having to use eggs and milk. Well the bread came
out beautifully but when your nearest shop was miles away and in my day you could not just jump into a vehicle and drive there I was limiting the amount used. The eggs were also to be used for
breakfast and of course the milk for tea so there were not wasted amount available. This upset everyone as a new loaf of bread was Moorish and everyone would have liked to have eaten both
loaves in one sitting. I also did not want to spend my time in the kitchen cooking as I would much rather have been out with the boys seeing how the sling shot went.

Our house on the Lundi was very near the river, and we had an almost 180’ degree view of the river,
with the most beautiful BIG trees. No fence at all, so no flowers as they would have been eaten by the game - so there was just grass right down to the edge of the river which was nicely mowed
by the hippo that came up every night to check there was no long patches. The elephant use to also come around the house and eat the fruit from the Cordila, and see what else was available.

As Mike described excitement of the chase, the heart-pumping, anxiety of the stalk were all VERY
true but it did sort of get me over the fear of elephant and I began to find it great fun and was learning fast about stalking , making no noise, escaping behind a tree trunk and praying you would
not be seen or smelled. Especially on the 14^th when the old bull charged! I just stopped thinking and froze and don’t know what I would have done if Boyd’s voice hadn’t changed the bulls mind and he changed course. When the other 3 elephant turned up and now there were 6, well I died! All I can remember was crouching down nearby in the reeds and just seeing a huge body emerging, then legs going off away from me and hearing a noise behind me and on the side. Then quiet…. which was just as terrifying as you didn’t know what was happening or if the elephant were still there. I had very wobbly legs, and was shaking like a leaf for quite awhile after it all. This was one of the first encounters with elephant and I had had and certainly not the last. I learnt a very healthy
respect for these gently grey giants.

It was sad to say goodbye to our two friends.

OPERATION SLINGSHOT

2011-05-05T10:06:00.000+01:00

Chief Prison Officer Jack Harris and the Author recently embarked on an elephant marking expedition under the aegis of the Department of Wild Life Conservation, having as the main item in their arsenal an experience mental slingshot, manufactured in the prison workshops. For this slingshot the
Department and all those concerned wish to record their most sincere thanks to the technical officers and others who helped in its manufacture.

An uneventful journey of some 400 miles saw us at our destination; the house of Wild Life Conservation Officer Boyd Reese and his charming bride of three weeks. There in extreme confirm and enjoying an excellent cuisine, we girded ourselves for the fray.

On the morning of the 9^thSeptember we sighted our first jumbo; 4 bulls, no further than 1½ miles from the breakfast table. We approached to within 8 yards of them, and had our first attempt with the slingshot. Unfortunately the padding parted at the seating area of the paint filled electric globe, causing this missile to break before leaving the weapon. The brass portion did however fly true, and hit the target.

I must digress for a moment for the benefit of readers not acquainted with our rather novel weapon or the reason for its use. Visualise a powerful catapult mounted on a cross bow stock which hurls a paint filled globe with considerable velocity. This globe, on striking the target, breaks, the consequence being an admirable paint emblazoned animal. An easy identification mark is afforded enabling researchers to study migration and breeding habit and to ascertain whether the herds break and reform into new units or remain as the same herd.

After our first unsuccessful attempt we approached to within 20 yards of some hippopotami and threw by hand a globe which broke on the water a scant 5 yards short of the target.

Returning home we re-glued and re-sewed the padding of the slingshot.

While having afternoon tea on the verandah, 3 bull elephants were seen feeding into the Lundi River. A cry of action stations 1, a further painstaking stalk, and another globe fired from a range of some 10 yards at a bull feeding in some reeds. The glove flew strongly, but missed target by some 6 feet. A little more stalking, followed by another shot at 20 yards. This shot missed by but a few inches. The globe having all the force and speed that could be desired. The jumbo by now being alarmed, they ran off, stopping on the opposite bank near to the house. Again the excitement of the chase, the heart pumping anxiety of the stalk, and then the disappointment of the shot going 6 feet wide. No disturbance the reloading of the slingshot, and the last missile of the day fired. This one was on target, but 2 yards short. Consolation, though, the globe did break with sufficient force to spatter a few small spots on the elephant’s right hind leg.

We decided on the 11^th, to mark and film hippo. Shortly after setting off an African Game Scout brought tidings of a deformed hippo. Previous attempts had been made to despatch this animal, and Mr Boyd Reese was elated to hear that it was now sunning itself in an easily accessible spot on a sand bank.

Proceeding cautiously and noiselessly along the Lundi on our errand of mercy, we overheard Africans
talking in the vernacular. Our command for them to be quiet had surprising results, for it caused the noisy ones to flee wildly. Our suspicions were aroused; we pursued them and after a hectic chase through he reed beds of the river one hapless victim was apprehended; a ‘piccanini’ of about 10 years old. Questioning elicited the information that he was one of a party of three poachers; he showed us the carcass of a freshly killed buck. This youngster was sent off under the escort of a Game Scout to bring in the other members of his party; an uncle and a brother. These three were
eventually sent for trial on a charge of poaching in a game reserve.

Shortly after the original object of our search, the deformed hippo, was sighted, and efficiently despatched by Boyd Reese. While awaiting the arrival of African skinners we had the extreme good fortune to view in it’s entirely a savage and thrilling fight between two massive hippo bulls not more than 15 yards away. Not only to witness it, but also to record this savage battle on film.

While breakfasting on the 14^th, we sighted 3 jumbo bulls in the river bed. Due to the erratic behaviour of the slingshot we decided to revert to the older method of throwing the marking globes by hand.

After a most exciting approach to within 10 yards of a large bull, I took careful aim and threw a globe with considerable force. This struck the bull on the ear, but failed to break. The impact, however, alarmed him considerably, and he wheeled and charged straight at us. Boyd Reese and I, using an old trick, spoke to him, calling him, among other things a ‘silly old fool’. The power of the human voice once again proved effective and jumbo turned and made off. I threw another globe, this time with success, for it broke and marked the elephant low down inside his right leg, giving our first real mark.

The noise caused by these proceedings alarmed the rest of the herd, and we were somewhat disconcerted to see 6 elephants break cover where we had reckoned on only three.

These 6 crossed the river and our merry pursuit was rewarded by us finding them standing quietly but tightly bunched. Another glove was thrown and an effective mark noted. But unfortunately,
on the same animal as that which I had just previously marked.

Some two hours later this young bull was sighted feeding, brilliantly marked with his 2 splashed of paint. Later in the day, at about 4pm we sighted a herd of 12 bull elephant and again set off with hope high in our breasts. Approaching to within 10 yards we threw another globe, this time marking a large bull on his left hip, near the spinal ridge. He ran off a few yards, and our elation was most marked until we turned and saw the rest of the herd stalking us in much the same way as we had stalked our recent target. Amongst this herd was ‘our’ young bull, proudly displaying his two badges of paint. A globe thrown at very close range gave us our third mark, this on a large bull with
tusks of at least 60-70lbs. A while later a herd of 30 odd cows was sighted and 5 globes in all thrown at them. These 5 globes marked successfully 3 cows; perhaps our most encouraging result.

Having to return to our daily chores in Salisbury prison, we regretfully bade our charming hosts farewell, and so turned our backs on a most enjoyable interlude devoted to the furtherance of science and wild life conservation on the banks of the Lundi River.

Written by the Late Mike Van Rooyen who was a friend of the family.

50th ANNIVERSARY OF WANKIE NATIONAL PARK

2011-04-11T08:30:00.000+01:00

Symposium is part of 50^th anniversary
celebrations.

1928 – 1978

Articles from the Rhodesian Financial Gazette 4 August
1978

And Rhodesia Calls.

In June
Pierre van Riel quit the band and was replaced by Paul Nissen (guitar). Four
Jacks and a Jill left for a two-week concert tour of Paraguay and also appeared
on television in Rio de Janeiro. The band, who were very fond of Rhodesia and
involved in conservation efforts there, performed
free of charge to 240 delegates at the 50th anniversary symposium at the Wankie
(now Hwange) National Park in August.
From their website: www.4jacksandajill.co.za

Unfortunatetly, I did not have any more on the anniversary other than a list of delegates that included members of the University of Rhodesia, Wild Life Society, South African Parks Board, Members of Parliament, Director of Rhodesian Parks, Forrestry Commission, Zoologists, television, veterinary research, Ted, Connie and Gerald Davison, National Museums, IUCN/WWF African Elephant Survey, Publicity Associations, Tour Operators, and many more of a list of 240, together with cuttings from newspapers and Rhodesia Calls. If anyone would like to add their memories or comments, please fill in the comments box below, as I would love to hear from you,

WHITE WATER KAYAKING

2011-03-18T06:40:00.000Z

One weekend my friend and I decided we were going to do the white water kayaking above the Victoria Falls. We met our guide at the reception of the Rainbow Hotel. We were then taken
through the National Park, and arrived up river at our campsite at about 5.30pm. We were provided with sun downers around a camp fire while we mingled with the other guests. There were about eight foreigners, my friend and me and the guide. We sat down to a hearty dinner. After a long day of travelling we were happy to unroll our sleeping bags onto the stretchers that they provided for us and under the comfort of a mosquito net we gazed at an inky sky studded with stars.

It was an early start the next morning and after a steaming hot cuppa and some cereal and yoghurt we were given a ‘pep’ talk before venturing out onto the huge expanse of water in our little two man kayaks.

The guide split my friend and I up and we were placed in the front of our kayaj with a chap behind us. The start was fairly smooth sailing with calm waters. Every now and again the guide would tell us that we had to paddle across to the Zambian side as fast as possible to avoid a pod of hippo. The rapids we encountered were mild in comparison to doing the ‘white water’ rafting below the Victoria Falls, but big enough for out little kayaks and we got thoroughly soaked. Which was a pleasing interlude to a very hot day! They were also a thrill and took quite a bit of steering, so as to avoid rocks and tipping into the crocodile infested waters. So with that terrifying thought in mind, keeping upright was our main aim.

At around mid-day we cruised up to an island with a lovely white ‘beach’ and we had a well-earned rest and a bite to eat. We did explore the island a bit and just cooled off in the shallows of the river, with someone on look out to make sure no ‘flat dogs’ (crocodiles) were around. In the afternoon we had a gentle run meandering between islands and down inlets, under overhanding branches filled
with amazing birdlife in close proximity to us. We came around one island and there was an elephant having a lovely swim in the river – we managed to get quite close to him. There was also an abundance of wildlife grazing on the banks and some having a daily drink to quench their thirst.

Our second night was a repeat of the first, but we did have the privilege of a cold bucket shower behind a piece of hessian on one side and gazing at the setting sun over the river on the other side. Such an awesome experience, that no-one complained about the cold water!

Day two on the river was slightly harder as we had to row into the wind, as we got closer to the falls. By midday I put my oars down and told my partner that he could carry on paddling if he wanted to, but I was quite happy drifting along on the current. My shoulders were burning in pain and could not have lifted a feather at that stage.

We finished our safari around mid-afternoon and were transported back to the Victoria Falls campsite. We did hire a tent for the night, but the energy levels were at such that erecting a tent was too much effort, so we laid it on the ground and slept on top of it.

It was all in all an amazing trip and would do it again at the drop of a hat!

FISH DRIVE ON THE SABI/RUNDI JUNCTION 1963

2011-03-09T07:06:00.000Z

Sorry no story yet - this is for ex-National Parks folks who might be interested in seeing these photo's or might have been involved in this exercise.

Ladies where not allowed to be present on these expeditions, but they allowed Mum to be present to take some photographs.

To imagine that this occurred 48 years ago - so I was probably just a bump in the tummy when these were taken!

HOW ROBINS WAS INCORPORATED INTO WANKIE NATIONAL PARK

2011-03-02T06:45:00.000Z

A government gazette issued on 24th February 1928 announced that a 5000 square mile tract of land was to be established as Wankie Game Reserve. (14 600 sq kms)

The area chosen was the result of a poll conducted among the country’s Native Commissioners. Sir Cecil Rodwell, Governor of Southern Rhodesia proclaimed the land.

North of the reserve, a few cattle ranchers occupied the land up to the Deka River. Along the Bulawayo/Wankie railway line (which formed the eastern border) a number of farmers had bought railway blocks of land. In the south east a timber company had a concession for teak and other wood. In the south of the reserve it was bounded by Nature Reserves. In the north was the Tom’s Farm owned by Herbert George Robins.

Herbert George Robins the eldest son of a merchant was born in Margate, Kent on 18th March 1867. He was educated by a tutor at the Collegiate School, Margate. His first employment was as a joiner in 1882. But he had a yearning to go to sea, which his mother was against, so as a compromise he immigrated to Australia in 1886. During his time there he worked in a timber yard and then as a builder and a short stint with the Queensland Police.

In 1892 he arrived in the Cape Colony and made his way to the alluvial diamond diggings in Griqualand. In 1893 he made his way to Matabeleland with some of the first wagons following Major Geeldadam’s column during the Matabeleland war.

He was granted a farm on the pioneer road 30mile from Bulawayo. During the Matabele rebellion was served as Captain in the Bulawayo Field Force. In 1808 he was engaged with the Mashonaland Agency as an Assistant to Harvey to report on the coal in the Wankie area.

In 1902 he was with the Tanganyika Concession to prospect in Congo Free State. During 1911 – 1913 he did an exploratory and prospecting expedition on behalf of the Benguella Railway Company in North East Angola. In 1913 his contract expired and he had accumulated a fair amount of money and retired to his scientific instruments on his farm ‘Little Tom’s Spruit’ named after Saddler in the Wankie district. Geise had been negotiating on his behalf on the purchase of the farm since 1910 and it was not until 1912 that Robins had secured ownership. He found the farm too small to run a cattle ranch so applied for the farm next door, ‘Big Toms Spruit’, which he managed to acquire in 1915. He also acquired another farm and finally had 25 000 acres of land. He put a stop to shooting and took active steps to stop poaching on his land, which had been a hunting ground because of the large variety and number of game. He was also a determined defender of the Wankie Game Reserve against local farmers who urged the Government to exterminate the game and open up the country. As the years passed Robins received increasingly numerous requests from people to view the game on his farm and in 1934 fearing ‘Tom’s Farms’ would be sold on his death to become a shooting box, he offered it to the Southern Rhodesian Government on condition that it be maintained for all time as a game sanctuary. The offer was accepted and the farm today known at the Robin’s Camp Sanctuary, which together with the Wankie Reserve – forms the Hwange National Park.

Robins was a fellow of more than half a dozen societies. His eccentric manner, his large white beard and his somewhat pedantic interest in the expensive scientific instruments which he acquired gave rise to exaggerated reports about him. It was said that he was a recluse who had shut himself off from civilization and company, warding off intruders with this pack of Great Danes. He very much enjoyed his telescope and built a tower in which he could use it and had marked on a square frame all the longitude and latitude markings. On the 27th June 1939 he passed away in Wankie Hospital.

RHINO DE-HORNING – A SAD STORY

2010-11-19T13:23:00.000Z

The helicopter taking off..

It was early one morning when the sky was just turning red with the rising sun. The nocturnal animals were giving their final call for the night and the birds singing in a new day, when the peace was disturbed by the noise of a helicopter coming in to land. The pilot and two vets alighted from the machine and came over to ask if we were interested in witnessing the de-horning of a rhino. We all readily agreed.

Poaching of rhino got to epidemic proportions in the early 1900’s mainly by poachers hacking off the horns and selling them to the Far East for exorbitant prices for several uses including: an alleged remedy against fever, gout, rheumatism, and many other non life threatening ailments, an alleged cure against aggressive cancer, ornamental use, an aphrodisiac (this is denied by the Chinese themselves), and Yambiya handles in Yemen. Amid controversy it was decided that having this valuable horn going around on four legs was not easy for National Parks anti-poaching teams to protect, so was decided that by de-horning the rhino there would be a better chance of the survival of these prehistoric beasts.

We were given a two-way radio so that we could communicate with the pilot, and he could inform us as to where to go. With a whirr of the blades and a cloud of dust the helicopter took off, so we all rushed off and grabbed cameras and hats and piled into the vehicle and headed in the direction that we were given, down one of the two lane tracks, with our hearts hammering not sure what to expect.

The pilot suddenly informed us that they had located a large male rhino and gave us direction, so we then headed off the tracks and ‘bundu bashed’ through thick vegetation until we arrived at the location. By the time that we arrived one of the vets had already darted the rhino from the helicopter and he was lying peacefully on the ground unaware of what was about to happen to his masculinity, they had placed a cloth over his eyes for protection from the sun. The vets were busy measuring the beast, checking his blood and checking his heart rate. All of a sudden the National Parks vet started up the chain saw and started sawing off the sleeping patient’s horn. The smell was horrendous, as it smelt like burnt nails. The team worked exceptionally fast even though to us it seemed to take forever listening to the sawing and smelling the horn. The National Parks Scouts then painted a number on his side and he was tagged in the ear. We all then had to clear out and get to the safety of our vehicles while the vet gave an anti-dote for the rhino to wake up.

Checking the heart

Sawing off the horn

Putting tar on the after the horn taken off

Number the rhino

Measuring the anti-dote

Unfortunately, by de-horning as many rhino as they could it did not really help the population, as the poachers continued slaughtering the rhino and instead of a horn now they hacked off the tagged ear to given to their dealers to prove that the rhino has been de-horned and maybe they would still get some money for their efforts, and also if a de-horned rhino was killed, bit would save time in tracking these hornless mammals. Poachers are prepared to remove any amount of horns, including the small stubs on rhino calves, and therefore dehorning is unlikely to be an adequate deterrent. Dehorning will only reduce the temptation to potential poachers if the re‐growth is cut regularly to ensure that the horn mass remains very low. Zimbabwe reported that their dehorning effort was successful, but only if used in conjunction with traditional anti‐poaching measures such as regular patrols and population monitoring. Where we used to going out and seeing a rhino every day, it got down to you being lucky if we saw one at all!!

The Team

PHOTOGRAPHS OF NATIONAL PARKS STAFF

2010-11-18T08:44:00.000Z

Sorry everyone, this week I am just going to post a whole lot of photographs of staff of National Parks as some folk are interested in them. I know to some it will be a bore, as they have no idea who these people are, but to others who have been in the department, will find them very interesting. Next blog I promise to get back to some stories, I have just been a kinda lazy lately.

2010-11-11T07:30:00.001Z

I have decided today just to share some photo's with you as there was alot of interest on Face Book for some old National Parks people and stories. So sorry to bore the folk that are not interested, but will get back to stories next time.

FOLK TALES

2010-11-02T12:24:00.000Z

Dad had had a complaint from a local village of a man-eating lion that was causing undue stress to their settlement and had already eaten two people. The first was a truck driver that had spent the night on the side of the road and the second was one of the villagers who had been sitting around the fire when someone had thrown a log on the fire causing sparks to fly up into the night sky.

Dad and two game scouts went to the village to try and kill this man-eater. When night fell the two game scouts sat with their back against the wall and they had a bicycle propped up against the hut next to them, while Dad sat in the vehicle. They had heard the lion calling on and off during the night. In the early hours of the morning the one game scout decided to have a cigarette and as he lit his match the lion attacked the bicycle. In the morning they saw the pug marks of the lion and the bicycle was a bit mangled.

So the next night they decided to set up a bait, and they bought a goat and tied it to a very heavy log ( it took both game scouts to carry it). They build a platform in a tree and one of the game scouts sat in wait there while the other joined Dad in the vehicle, so that he could quickly put the windscreen down and put the head lights on, and Dad would then shoot. They sat quietly anticipating every second that ticked by . Finally the game scout put his hand on Dad’s knee and whispered “It’s here!” The game scout put the windscreen down, Dad got his rifle ready and when they switched on the head lights the goat and the log had gone. Hmmmm….. The game scout on the platform heard nothing.

Dad then decided to get some traps and torches from Head Office. He explained to the Chief of his intentions and the Chief said that they would never get the lion as a man from the village had slept with his sister. Dad then enquired about the truck driver and the Chief explained that he was a distant relative, and the other chap was a closer relation and this was a warning that the culprit would be next. The Chief explained that the man had to pay ZW$10 to the Spirits of the Lions before it would end. Dad asked why this had not happened yet. The Chief explained that it was too far for him to go to pay the fine. Dad said that he was going in that direction and he would take the guilty man to the Spirit of the Lion to pay his fine.

When Dad got back to Head Office he was immediately sent off on another errand so a fellow colleague took over. They went back to the village and spent four nights there. They heard the lion nightly, but each night further away until eventually there was nothing and no-one else was eaten.

ANNUAL GAME COUNT

2010-06-08T15:46:00.000+01:00

One year we decided to participate in the annual game count, which means you have to sit at an allocated pan from 12 noon on the Saturday of the full moon till 12 noon on the Sunday, (normally during the months of September or October when the rains have not yet begun in full) and count all the game and bird life that you see. We invited two friends from Australia, Cathy and Tom, to join us on this particular count.

We had been given a pan in the far north of the Park, so we load up the open back bakkie with our entire essentials for a night of camping. Mum, Dad and Cathy were in the cab and Tom and I lay on a mattress on top of all our gear. We left home early to enable us to get to our pan by 12 noon. It was a very uneventful trip until we got to about an hour from our destination, when we came across a pride of about 13 lions being chased off their zebra carcass by a pack of 16 hyenas. We stopped and watched the fracas going on for a while, as it was very interesting. Suddenly Cathy hears a crack on the left of the vehicle and we all notice that the hyenas had chased a lioness up a spindly Mopani tree right next to us. Cathy was now more concerned about the two of us on the back of the vehicle and worried that we were going to be added to the zebra carcass and managed to persuade my father to drive on.

We got to the pan and found a suitable place to set up for our 24 hour game count. The rules were that we had to stay in the vehicle for the duration, but Dad always erected a canvas from the vehicle out, so that we could sit under it to record the game that came down to drink and the back of the vehicle was used for the people that were off duty during the night to catch up on a few hours sleep before their next shift. Of course my father always had to pick an elephant path to camp on as his reasoning was that it was the flattest ground around! By now Cathy had refused to get out of the vehicle, so my father told her that if she did not get out of the vehicle there would be no dinner for her! She reluctantly got out of the cab and joined us under the canvas for some warming stew and coffee.

Once dinner was over, Cathy now figured that it was quite safe to be out of the vehicle and was quite relaxed. We had counted a number of species of game come down to drink, among the lot a herd of elephant cows and calves. One female had obviously just given birth to a baby and so was very protective of her offspring and was not happy with the intrusion at her water-hole. She decided to mock charge us, at which my father calmly puffing on his pipe just tapped the side of the vehicle, which sent her away. But then she decided that we were a real threat to her young and came charging towards us in a serious charge. By now Cathy had grabbed hold of both my mother and I and was trying to get all three of us in the cab of the vehicle at the same time!! While my father carried on casually puffing away and telling the cow to go away that we were no threat. She finally decided to back of once she was within a few metres of us.

Pastel Picture of Elephant by author

All was quite except for the call of a Giant Eagle Owl and some nightjars joining in the melodies to break the night silence. We were having a hard time trying to keep awake during the our watch so we were eating chocolate and doing leg exercises in the hope of keeping awake. Suddenly a bull elephant came wandering down towards the pan to have his evening drink and bath. In the moonlight we could just make out his shape, and hear his splashing and sucking of water which made silver ripples on the muddy water. When he decided he had had enough he started ambling off in our direction. Cathy got a bit worried and started tapping on the car door as Dad had done earlier to let him know wer were there, which he seemed not to hear being an elderly male, or he just had selective hearing. So she started banging on the door frantically, which woke the whole camp and certainly broke the silence of the night. Thankfully with all the clatter he took off at a hasty pace in another direction. Well that woke us up and managed to keep on counting with hammering hearts, eyes wide open and ears listening for any crunch of kalahari sand or leaf breaking.

Lilac Breasted Roller in pastel by author

ANNUAL GAME COUNT

2010-05-26T14:11:00.001+01:00

We had been given a pan in the far north of the Park, so we load up the open back bakkie with our entire essentials for a night of camping. Mum, Dad and Cathy were in the cab and Tom and I lay on a mattress on top of all our gear. We left home early to enable us to get to our pan by 12 noon. It was a very uneventful trip until we got to about an hour from our destination, when we came across a pride of about 13 lions being chased off their zebra carcass by a pack of 16 hyenas. We stopped and watched the fracas going on for a while, as it was very interesting. Suddenly Cathy hears a crack on the left of the vehicle and we all notice that the hyenas had chased a lioness up a spindly Mopani tree right next to us. Cathy was now more concerned about the two of us on the back of the vehicle and worried that we were going to be added to the zebra carcass and managed to persuade my father to drive on.

Once the herd of cows and calves had finished their bathing and drinking and had meandered off, which was about 11pm, Cathy and I decided that it was our turn to do the next few hours shift, while the others caught up on some sleep. We were having a hard time trying to keep away so we were eating chocolate and doing leg exercises in the hope of keeping awake. Suddenly a bull elephant came wandering down to have his evening drink and in the moonlight we could just make out his shape, and hear his splashing and sucking of water. When he decided he had had enough he started ambling off in our direction. Cathy started tapping on the car door, which he seemed not to hear. So she started banging on the door frantically

2010-04-22T10:24:00.000+01:00

Learning to drive in a Land rover station wagon was no easy feat for a short person, never mind in a National Park where there were lots of BIG animals. I had to have a pillow to sit on and another pillow behind my back, or else I would not be able to reach the pedals. Thankfully I had a very calm, relaxed father to teach me, even though inwardly he was probably saying many prayers and keeping his teeth firmly clamped down on his pipe.

On one occasion we came to an ‘S’ in the road and I could see that there was a huge bull elephant ahead standing right beside the road feeding and quite unperturbed about us coming along. Unfortunately, I was absolutely terrified of elephants and whenever we came too close to them I would be on the floor of the vehicle with a pillow over my head and tear flowing down my cheeks. If I could fit in a glove compartment I would.

I slammed on breaks and pleaded with my father to take over until we had passed the massive grey beast. My father’s reply was a casual “If you want to learn to drive, then you have to drive past the elephant!” So after sitting for a while with a hammering heart and trembling, clammy hands I put the vehicle into first gear, closed my eyes and drove. I really have no idea how I managed to stay on the road, but I did get passed the elephant much to my relief.

2010-04-09T06:12:00.000+01:00

SAVING A BABY ELEPHANT

We were travelling back to Main camp from the safari camp at Linkwasha. On arriving at Ngweshala pan we saw from a distance a black lump in the trough (a man made reservoir with fresh water piped into it for the game to drink from, with the overflow running into a pan).

The pump attendant ran up to us and asked if we could assist him in getting a baby elephant out of the trough. On closer inspection we found the terrified baby was only a few months old as he still had pink on his feet, ears and trunk and his mother was hanging around not far off. The pump attendant and Ross jumped into the trough and tried to give it a shove from the rear end and lift it up over the lip of the trough – but with a weight of approximately 100 kilograms at birth this just proved too much effort. Ross stayed in the trough to give it a shove from the rear while the pump attendant got out and pulled it by its trunk.

Once out the poor little fella then thought that Ross was his mother and started to follow him back to the vehicle. We decided that that was not such a good plan, as we did not want the mother to come charging us, so we persuaded Ross to lead it to the pump and rush back to the vehicle.

The frantic screams of the mother were futile as the noise of the engine was drowning out her desperate calls and the calf now refused to leave the pump. We then decided to switch the engine off and make a dash for the car and drive away a little distance so that it would not follow us. Finally the mother came closer to the pump and the baby managed to distinguish who was mother and who was not and they were reunited.

IS THIS MY MUMMY?

REUNITED AT LAST!!!