Number 178 - Okavango Delta, Bostwana - Part 1

This entry is a two part as I did one at the edge of the Delta (178) and one at Abu's Camp in the Delta (179).



View from the Island Safari Lodge deck

 ......It was dark by the time we got back to our base, the Island Safari Lodge Maun on the Thamalakane river which is feb by the Okavango River, after an exhausting 16 hours seeing a mine site outside of Maun, Botswana.



The half moon had settled its luminenscence over the inky green waters bathing it in a swathe of grey and blues, highlighted by the pads of the water lillies, their perfumed flowers on 7 foot stems now closed for the night. African Jacana's, also known as Jesus birds, bounced nimbly on the pads, their name an apt shoice as from a distance they did appear to be walking on the water. Underneath, their fat bodies swallowed by the might of the highest Delta waters seen in a decade for this time of the year, bullfrogs competed for attention, their loud chorus echoing through the still night, interrupted only by the occassional fish plopping out of the water. Deeper still in the tranquil flooded plains lurked crocodiles searching for food- but I had yet to sight these- or indeed the 3 tonne bull hippo which had slipped into camp during fence repair work and was content not hitting the river bank and swimming to someone else's problem upstream.

It was hardly of comfort, as I had checked in during the night time when these beasts are grazing on the banks that im overlooking, that I hadnt known about him at the time and was only alerted after walking 400 metres down a barely lit path to my lodge to find a note from management on my bed warning me of his existance. Handy hints such as "do not scream or wave your arms about or make a noise" seemed extremely belated. Known to kill more people in Africa than any other animal I couldnt have vouched I would have acted like the instructions advised if Id rounded a corner with my suitcase and came face to face with that!

Anyhow the next day at least progressed without incident. Nursing the slight vestiges of a hangover which had only been marginally tempered with a late night swim in the pool, I clambered aboard a boat for a 4 hour excursion to the edge of the delta. Too tired for much else I figured Id save the main attraction of going deep in the Delta for the following day.

I am here in February where the levels are slowly rising but in 3 months time they will be in full flood. This year is expected to be very high-  on average the Angolan highlands receive an annual rainfall of 1.2 to 2 metres a year....yet this year in the panhandle where it is already coming through, the water levels have already risen three metres. Such levels havent been seen in 25 years and there was much nervousness by local home owners as to the loss of livelihood that would occur this year, especially after the massive floods they had in 2009. The greatest surge of water recorded to date was in 1984- some 1100 cubic metres per second entered the panhandle.

The Delta, which is actually Africa's largest oasis, can swell to some 25 000km² when flooded and at the driest time of the year, will shrink to about 6 000km². As a result, it has one of Africa's largest concentration of wildlife with great herds of antelopes, zebra, buffalo and elephants as well as the carnivores- lions, leopards and cheetahs, all dependent on the size of the floodwaters.
    

Aerial views of the Delta


Even though the floods were still a month or so away, the expanse of wetlands was something to behold. Tall trees and thick grass taller than a man lined the banks of the fast flowing river, bending as the swirls and eddies rushed by with little fish gamely trying to swim against the currrents. Everywhere water lillies rose up, their strongly perfumed white petals a refreshing balm against the heat and dampness permeating the air.

In a country which is 80% arid, the waters arriving in the Okavango Delta in Botswana is critical to the survival of one of the largest concentrations of wildlife in Africa. Two seasons exist- summer rains and the winter floods. Rising in the Angolan Highlands, the wet season starts in November and from around early March onwards the Okavango River- which is about 1000 km long- finally enters the Delta in the so called 'pan-handle,'as a wide, fairly swift, flowing river. Due to the overwhelmingly flat landscape as it meanders south it splits into three main channels, each one carrying water in a different direction and creating different ecosystems before flattening out and then completely disappearing, soaked up by the parched land until the following year.

But I was only at Maun- gateway to the Delta- and so while the  river I was travelling down was in full flow, it was none the less only about 5 metres wide. Occassionally as we rounded a bend a lone fisherman would be squatting on the banks with a single line cast out to catch a fish. Heavily laden down boats putted by in the opposite direction carrying 8 foot long bundles of freshly chopped reed to sell. Donkeys brayed across the banks as they mournfully sought friends, the odd one or two yoked to primitive carts carrying fresh water from the banks. Lithe black bodies of semi naked children stopped their frolocking in the shallow banks as we went by to wave and smile at us, a few enthusiastically trying to swim to the boat, secure that they could spot the crocodiles coming given the crystal clear waters. Nearby a cluster of skinny goats in their charge ate steadily, their heads not even lifting as we passed by as they concentrated on the more important task of survival. The contrast between us and the children was sadly staggering- Botswana has one of the youngest populations in Africa with the highest number in the sub 15 years old range- and despite the number of tourists flooding to the Delta each year, this is a country that has prided itself on high cost, low volume eco lodges. I wondered how all these people would get employment when they grew up.

The landscape was dotted with huge trees- some more than 60 metres high. A number of these were dead from the devastating 2009 floods when the waters rose above the height of them for months on end, before they finally succumbed to a watery grave. But out of everything comes something else and these once waterlogged tree trunks, now dry, form the supply of wood to make mokoros, the wooden canoes handcarved out of a fallen tree that provided the means by which the Batswanan people traversed up and down the river systems.

I decided to jump off the boat and hire one. A 9 foot pole was provided to me as the sole means of movement. Hard work trying to steer these unsteady canoes along the banks, I spent the best part of half an hour poling a left , then a right path, wobbling my way in a very jaggged line until I mastered the hang of it and smoothly went a few further kilometres upstream. However it was wonderful to hear the sounds of the bush rather than the noise of a diesel engine, broken intermittently by a few choice words of mine as I hit the rushes on the side banks uncontrollably. 

Rounding a bend I realised that I had hit the edge of the delta and was no longer in a tributory river. The contrast was dramatic with the landscape widening out and a large water pan as far as the eye could see. The vegetation also shifted dramatically with green grass now dominating the landscape and smaller shrubs. Not having purchased the requisite permits to go into the Delta itself I sadly turned around and poled back to the paddlers base to return the mokoro.

When the sun had lost its grip on the earth and was slowly sinking down i embarked on a 2 hour horse ride through the bush. My guide hadnt been out in a few days so was keen to put the horses- and my thighs- for a hard workout. Serves me right for saying I was an experienced rider as we dodged the thorn bushes (and one wasp nest) on a mad gallop to see if we could reach the edge of the delta. After 20 minutes and a rather laboured horse I wheeled it into a canter and advised that just hitting a river would be fine. So imagine my surprise when we went rounded a bend a short while later and there was the river. Well I can hear you saying now "whats the surprise...?" Well that came in the form of 2 ears, 2 nostrils and 2 very beady and somewhat alarmed eyes. Theres always that moment when the brain shuts down its processing power, floods the limbs with go-go juice, and then starts working again to decide if the adrenalin really is needed. And so it ticked into action.....

Have i seen this before? Yes............ but never so close.
Is it a threat? Holey $%^* its the bloody hippo.

And so I saw the beast. First in line for the thundering affront and its 40cm molars as well. Now they might look like an overfed grey piggish squat legged cow but give them a minute and they can run along at 20-30 km/hour on the ground- guess that is why their name means river horse rather than river cow. Thankfully of course my lodge had provided me the night before with instructions of what not to do! So i didnt belt out Hi ho Silver and feverishly point at the water to my guide while rearing the horse in front of the great beast to make myself look larger and more threatening. No, I calmly brought the horse to an abrupt stop, narrowly avoiding being turfed over its neck right in front of the hippo and just stood still. Good news on my side was that it was 5 metres away and in the water.

After that the brain went into normal hippo thinking mode- am I on one its paths? ( thats why they attack).....hard to say. Can I see a baby? (~F%$£ed if that was the case....no). Will my adventure travel insurance policy cover this? (couldnt remember seeing "being eaten by wildlife" in the clause). So suffice to say my horse, Fox, who I could feel was shaking, was calmly turned around and that was my brief sojour at the river. After the event of course I can say it was a beautiful moment and a highlight of my time at this lodge. After! Still needed a river shot on the back of Fox though......got that slightly later on the way back!

The next day I threw caution to the wind, and a significant amount of dosh and chartered an entire plane for myself for a flight over the Delta to my next point of call- the sister Seba and Abu Camps, on the western edge of the Delta, the latter which is featured in the book 1000 places to see before you die. Sounds rather glamorous doesnt it- a whole plane for myself. The truth is the concierge service didnt give me the right times to be at the airport and so I missed the charter flight carrying everyone to the lodge. As a result they had to send it back just to pick up little ole wee me. Oh...and the $700US that that mistake cost me. I was one extremely grumpy bunny that morning but needed to change my mood before i got in one of those ghastly single prop engines that, after years of dealing with African bush pilots, I just so hate. Time to put my hippo training behind me and start thinking about how to survive in one of Africa's most animal populated areas should the plane go down. Im going for climbing up a tree and gently dropping on the back of an elephant so Im out of range of the carnivores....but not sure that method will work.

And so...on to the next place that I will see before I die.