False sense of security

Elephants have long since been my favourite animal to view in the bush but the past three months have been a great test of my admiration towards them.  Living in the bush is an honour but wherever people and animals coexist, there will always be conflict.  Thanks to a very dry winter, water has become the most valuable commodity on Karongwe.  It is an essential requirement for almost every organism on this planet, and when under water stress, their will to survive is strong.  When the animal in question weighs over 6 tonnes, the outcome is inevitable…

For month after month, the local herd of elephants’ massive water requirements have reeked havoc on our bush oasis.  Elephants are fussy when it comes to water, and when faced with a stagnant pool of water versus the clean water in our tanks, there will only ever going to be one winner.  I soon learned that trying to stop or outsmart them was futile and it pains me to say but I had given up trying.  It had become routine to stockpile water in the evenings and then fix the pipes the next day.  We all had no choice but to accept it.

Finally last week however, the rains came.  Thunder and lightning ravaged the skies and the first downpour of the season was relished by all.  With water no longer in such short supply, the elephants relinquished their relentless raids on our tanks and seemed more content now that natural order had been restored.  We were lucky enough to bump into them the day after and they seemed filled with the joys of spring as they frolicked in one of the dams close by.  Despite my love for these gentle giants being tested to the full over the last few months, nothing could contain my grin as we had a perfect view of the herd splashing about, one even deciding that the occasion was worth a swim!  I am supposed to teach guides to interpret behaviour, but sometimes it needs no interpretation.  Joy is a powerful emotion and it positively oozed from these most emotive of animals.

The elephants moved north, back to the area they tend to spend the summer, and we let our guard down.  For days we enjoyed running water.  Showers seemed sweeter than ever and the simple pleasure of water on demand become common-place once more.  We may have lost the battle but we had won the war.  Battered and bruised yes, but we had weathered the elephantine storm!  The bush however is not without its sense of irony, and whilst I secretly celebrated the end of a long and arduous campaign against an unstoppable enemy, I was in for a rude awakening.  

I slept well that night under the soothing shroud of a false sense of security.  As the morning light filtered through my tent I went to help myself to a refreshing cup of water but when I turned the tap, I was met by nothing but the sound of rushing air (although I swear there was a subtle hint of elephant mockery mixed in with it!).  They had returned.  Like silent assassins in the night they had travelled the length of the reserve and reminded me who indeed was the biggest fish in this newly stocked pond.   Normal service had been resumed I was left with no question as to who had the upper hand in this long-running war!

Hopefully the summer has begun and the pressure on the animals will recede as more rains fall.  Either way, despite their destructive tendencies, they still remain my favourite animals.  Coexistence with nature is whole point and it is up to us to adapt and learn to live together in harmony.   One thing is for sure, whether they are causing mayhem at camp or delighting us with their aquatic antics at a more natural venue, the honour of living in the midst of giants is a true privilege.  

Blog post and photos by Ben Coley

Role Models - The wonderful people of De-Riet, Namibia

As the population of the earth continues to rise, human/animal conflict is a huge problem.  As we approach the 7 billion people mark, the space afforded to those that struggle to defend themselves is getting critically small.  Take lions for an example: in the 1940’s close to 400,000 of these iconic beasts roamed the African continent.  Today, there are probably less than 30,000.  That is a 92.5% loss of the entire species in 75 years!  Many attribute this devastation to the hunting industry, and whilst mankind’s bloodlust is no doubt a factor, the simple fact is that we are expanding at such a damaging rate that we have inhabited 90% of their land.  If one looks at the amount of ‘protected’ land dedicated to them, the numbers are about right.

Namibia however is an exception to the rule. In a country spanning 825,000 square kilometers, a mere 2 million people reside.  If you take Great Britain as an example, it is more than three times smaller and London alone houses in excess of 6 million people!  The result is simple: more land, less conflict.  This is not to say that humans and animals do not come in to contact, merely that there exists a mutual respect for each other’s needs.  The people of the rural areas of Namibia have learned to live amongst the indigenous wildlife instead of persecuting it. 

During the recent EcoTrainingcourse in Damaraland I was fortunate enough to visit a local village that did exactly this.  In the middle of the epitome of nowhere, De-Riet is a small community of ex-South Africans who were forced to move out of their land by the increasing pressures of the Apartheid regime.  A small group of people finally settled next to the Huab River in an attempt to make a new life for themselves.  Such was their happiness in this desolate paradise then when Nelson Mandela took office in 1994, he invited them to return but the people of De-Riet politely refused his offer in favour of their new home.  Basic accommodation and harsh conditions have done nothing to dampen the resident’s hospitality however and as we drove past one morning we were waved in for a refreshing cup of tea!

For the next hour some of the village elders regaled us with the moving and emotional story of how their former life was destroyed by Man’s petty squabbles and their journey to perhaps one of THE most raw, dramatic and beautiful corners’ of the planet.  Many of the residents had taken to working with the local wildlife and were involved in conservation whilst other chose to fullfil more traditional employment at larger population centers.  All however shared one common ethos – that of living in harmony with nature. The people of De-Riet share their oasis with unhabituated desert elephants and a whole host of less intimidating game.  Elephants are daily visitors to the village to make use of a water point but there is no discord.  Perhaps because their settling here was so recent in the scheme of things, the locals embrace their neighbours with respect and indifference.  Each keeps to their own business and unsurprisingly, conflict is all but absent.

In the 6 weeks I spent in this remarkable country I was privy to experiences from extraordinary topography to exquisite wildlife but my morning at De-Riet is one of my biggest highlights.  It was so refreshing, in a world where mankind is at constant war with its fellow inhabitants it was delight to spend time with people living in harmony with their surroundings instead of trying to destroy it.  Not only that, but with the future of our planet in the hands of the younger generation, it was wonderful to see young children growing up with this mentality ingrained in their psyche.  I am not naïve enough to suggest that there is an easy solution to the problems that face the future of the natural world due to our expansion but it was inspiring to meet real people in a real situation who embrace what makes our planet so special.  They are role models for us all.

Blogpost and photos by Ben Coley

Let sleeping elephants lie

Camp visitors from animals are not uncommon put perhaps none bring more joy and wonderment than visit from the local elephant herd.  During last week’s EcoQuest course, our impressive pachyderms returned.  As we sat by the fireplace in the early afternoon, digesting another hearty lunch prepared by our chef Loraine, the reeds in front of us started to rustle.  Emerging from tangles came 1, then 2 and ultimately 20 something elephants.  This time they chose to avoid the camp itself and instead busied themselves with some bush clearing on the banks of the Karongwe River.  Their departure was as silent as their arrival as the soft sand absorbed their massive footsteps as they drifted past like a mirage in the desert. 

We managed to find them a little later that afternoon, still feeding on the reeds and plethora of arboreal delights found in the river bed.  As we returned to camp 3 hours later however, we were met by a panicked Loraine telling us to be careful as the 2 bulls that had caused so much chaos a month ago had returned to the scene of their carnage.  1 bull stood meters from the viewing deck, systematically dismantling a large sandpaper raison, and the other found something of interest behind the kitchen.  The students watched in delight as they relaxed nature allowed us to view them by lantern-light a mere 10 meters away as we scuttled around camp preparing the evening’s feast.  At no point did they show any aggression towards us and their massive shadows melted in and out of view for the next hour or so. 

 Thankfully they did not cause much damage this time round and the only evidence of their visit were a scattering of broken branches, tell-tale giant impressions in the sand and their characteristic bowling ball sized calling cards!  Why these 2 individuals make a point of swinging past us each time they are in the area remains a mystery but their passive nature makes me think that they genuinely enjoy passing through.  Almost like catching up with old friends.  They obviously feel comfortable here and perhaps they recognise kindred spirits in the staff and students alike?!  Whatever the reason for their visits, I hope they know that they are always welcome and we look forward to their return.

The next morning we bumped in to them again, this time in a most unusual way.  The participants of the current EcoQuest course are seasoned travellers, having been born and raised in Zimbabwe, and with a wealth of bush experience in multiple African countries.  What greeted us when we rounded the corner was something that they had not seen before. In a clearing under a large tree, a few of the older animals stood close by swaying gently, as a tree limb would in a light breeze, as they dozed in an upright position.  Beneath their feet the rest of the herd lay prostrate on the ground.  It was a comical scene as the air was filed with the sound of gentle snores and the occasional ripple of escaping gas as they succumbed to their relaxation!  They had found the perfect way to spend the late morning as the Sun increased it intensity and the whole scene had a very calming and relaxing effect, almost like the hypnotic appeal of a lava lamp!

After a few minutes, one of the older females began to systematically nudge the youngsters with her trunk and emitted a low rumble.  Nap-time, it seemed, was over.  The teenagers grumbled and groaned as their slumber was disturbed but dutifully struggled to their feet as the matriarch slowly led her family onward to fuel their never-ending search for food.  They marched up the road for a few hundred meters, before disappearing from view by the shroud of the dense riverine vegetation. 

It was a wonderful sighting that showed the gentle side of these impressive beasts.  So often they are portrayed in a destructive manner but they are some of the most emotive and tender of the species that inhabit the continent of Africa.  To see them strewn across the ground was rare, but the way in which the adults raised the youngsters will stay with me and the students forever.   To see an animal with such destructive capabilities being so tender was an eye-opener. We as humans have a tendency to judge a book by its cover but we must learn to look deeper.  In that one moment, I almost felt embarrassed that we pigeon-hole these great architects of the land as lumbering giants when actually, if one stares into the depths of those dark, honey-coloured eyes, there is so much that we do not understand or appreciate.  Nature’s diversity in colour, form, sound and behaviour goes beyond the understanding of even the greatest minds of our species, and it is only by submerging ourselves in their lives that we can gain an inkling of understanding about their complexities.  No textbook truly knows the answer and it is up to us, as individuals, to formulate our own opinions of this magnificent gentle giant of the African savanna. 
Photos and blog by Ben Coley