I had an interesting introduction to Matabele ants. These are fierce little things about the size of a grape (I know grapes vary in size – so do Matabele ants). Their diet consists entirely of termites, and they pour through the bush in densely packed columns to termite mounds, entering in every hole, stinging the little termites and taking them to the top of the mound where they collect them, paralysed, and then carry them home to feast on them alive. Gruesome.
On one of our walks through the bush the instructor, this time Jaco, asked for a volunteer – ‘Evan volunteers, Evan volunteers!’ Ellen chirped in gleefully – and so after being instructed to pick up one of the soldier ants, said soldier ant buried its little head into my finger and gave me an extraordinarily strong bite for such a little chap. My finger throbbed for about an hour, and I could still feel where it bit me three days later. Married life is bliss!
Another example of interactive learning was being in the tracker seat of the Landy, and being slowly driven further into the branches of a tree until you correctly identified it – a good way of learning tree types quickly (especially if it has thorns).
Learning the 30 trees we had to be able to identify for the exam, and their various uses and traditional beliefs was in fact one of the toughest parts of the course – I never imagined I would spend 50 hours of my life learning to identify various types of acacia, but it was strangely rewarding when you find you can pick out a Buffalo Thorn, and give a little lecture on its uses and the beliefs associated with it. Did you know, for example, that it’s called a Buffalo Thorn because buffalos are supposed to back into them for protection when attacked by lions? Or that, when you put the spikes on the seat so they prick Ellen she won’t talk to you for two days? Or did you know that the Flaky Bark Thorn tree can also be used to stitch up a wound? Or further, that if you put the spikes of a Flaky Bark Thorn tree on a seat two days later, so they prick Ellen again, then she won’t talk to you for another three days? Interesting, hey?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Sleep Out - by Evan
This was another highlight – a night spent sleeping under the stars, with nothing between us and the lions except for two students on duty armed with torches.
After a lecture on bush camping, ending with the advice ‘Never, ever camp in a dry river bed’ – off we trundled with our packs to the nearest dried river bed to set up camp. I would point out that this was an exception as it was controlled by a man-made dam – but we were given an illustration of how quickly these fill up when the volley-ball court (in a previously dried river bed) by the camp disappeared in a matter of minutes after the heavy rains a few days later. My job when we arrived at the site was to dig the toilet – I actually volunteered on the grounds that I needed the exercise. After an hour spent digging a hole to crap in, I have to say that I was left with an unaccustomed feeling of great achievement. This is perhaps best put in context by mentioning (to those that don’t know) that I spent the last four years working for an investment bank, so to actually achieve something practical with a tangible result was, for me, awesome! I would also point out that Lucy helped greatly, when my weak little arms tired.
Who knew that digging toilets could bring such inner peace. Perhaps I should start an executive training company, taking high-flying corporate types on team building days, toilet digging in the countryside. They’d love it. I could sell it to them by using the tagline: “Learn how to bury your crap so others can’t find it!” Shame Enron went bust, they’d have been the first to sign up.
After a lecture on bush camping, ending with the advice ‘Never, ever camp in a dry river bed’ – off we trundled with our packs to the nearest dried river bed to set up camp. I would point out that this was an exception as it was controlled by a man-made dam – but we were given an illustration of how quickly these fill up when the volley-ball court (in a previously dried river bed) by the camp disappeared in a matter of minutes after the heavy rains a few days later. My job when we arrived at the site was to dig the toilet – I actually volunteered on the grounds that I needed the exercise. After an hour spent digging a hole to crap in, I have to say that I was left with an unaccustomed feeling of great achievement. This is perhaps best put in context by mentioning (to those that don’t know) that I spent the last four years working for an investment bank, so to actually achieve something practical with a tangible result was, for me, awesome! I would also point out that Lucy helped greatly, when my weak little arms tired.
Who knew that digging toilets could bring such inner peace. Perhaps I should start an executive training company, taking high-flying corporate types on team building days, toilet digging in the countryside. They’d love it. I could sell it to them by using the tagline: “Learn how to bury your crap so others can’t find it!” Shame Enron went bust, they’d have been the first to sign up.
A new husband gets to know the bush - by Evan
Let me start by saying that the whole experience of living in the bush at Karongwe was simply fantastic, and a better month I have never had. Learning about wildlife, botany, astronomy, ecology and all sorts of ologies in such a natural environment was wonderful: and after initially being indifferent about the whole ‘qualifying as a FGASA Guide thing’, by the end I was desperate to pass and relieved – elated even - when I finally achieved a comfortable pass in the final theory exam – 75.06% for an exam with a pass mark of 75%.
Slightly tragically it has even got me interested in birds, for which I am being continually ribbed by my new wife. Still, she’s probably just upset that I saw an uber-rare Taita Falcon, and she didn’t....
But I digress.
One of the highlights nature-wise for me (apart from the, ahem, disputed Taita Falcon) was on one of my practice drives, when I crashed elegantly round a corner in the Land Rover - sorry, ‘Landy’ - to be confronted by a lovely little baby elephant in the middle of the road, looking at me sheepishly (or more correctly, elephantish-ly). I brought the Landy stylishly to a halt with only the minimum of screeching by E and the brakes, and we all settled in to observe the little fella. After only a few seconds however, mummy elephant appeared, and looked slightly annoyed at our presence, and trumpeted to her other half – who then appeared right behind us. I switched quickly with Jaco as he knew what to do in these situations – drive asap away from the area! Before he could however, a further friend of the ellie appeared out of the bush just to our right, and then in an instant about a dozen other elephants materialised – it is oft remarked upon, but still extraordinary, how such enormous and loud animals, that leave such a trail of destruction, can move almost completely silently when they want to. We were left totally surrounded by these magnificent beasts, and there was nothing to do but sit quietly and let them move on – despite Jaco’s instructions to absolutely, on no occasion, to EVER get this close! Especially as one of the males was clearly in musth (or ‘wanting for some sexy time’ as one guide put it) and thus not a happy camper - and prone to charging at any moment. But move on they finally did after a lot of munching and mooching around us, leaving me with a firmly imprinted impression of their power, having watched them, from a very close distance, uproot very hefty trees with the effort of a child swatting the top off a dandelion with a stick.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Wildlife in the Camp - by Ellen
The camp was unfenced, so the animals were free to wonder through as they pleased. Some visitors, such as the hyenas, were on an almost nightly schedule. Their first visit came at 2am on the second night. The door to the kitchen had been accidentally left open, and the hyenas were not about to let such an opportunity pass them by. They crashed happily through the boxes and bins, giggling and whooping as they did so. In the morning the duty team came face to face with the chaos that had once been a kitchen. “Oh. Hyenas I guess” was not a phrase anyone had expected to utter so nonchalantly.
The hyenas’ visits were not just confined to the darkness. Whilst doing the early morning pre-drive check in the first week, the guys on duty were snuck up on by one of the larger females. Sadly no-one was there to witness them (heroically) leaping a good few feet from the ground over the back of the Land Rover to stand on the seat. It was our turn a couple of weeks later, but thankfully by this point we were as used to them as they were to us. Their boldness was staggering; they’d creep silently past where we were sitting chatting and grab the bin that was less than 5 meters away from us. The lucky duty team would then have to add ‘bin recovery and rubbish clear up’ to this list of early morning tasks - judging by the number of bite marks in the bin this was a common event.
The elephants crashed past camp one night; though we were all too deeply asleep to notice! The next day we went down to the river bed and followed the trail of destruction that they’d left behind them. Bushes had been stripped and trampled and huge branches had been ripped off the trees.
Savannah Baboons and Vervet Monkeys were frequent – and noisy – visitors to the area. The piercing screams of a youngster being disciplined by an alpha male are unnervingly human. A couple of snakes slithered through, including a Mozambican Spitting Cobra - certainly not one you’d want to mess with.
And then there was the night of the lions.
A few days earlier the lions had settled in the river bank near camp - only a couple of hundred meters from the volleyball court in fact, so the game needed to be played with a rifle to hand, just in case... That night we were coming back from an assessment drive and the spot light picked out the outline of three lions on the track leading to camp. Back at camp we were told to stay together and not go back to the tents: only three of the six lions had been accounted for. Throughout the night we heard them calling as they headed northwards, leaving behind a wonderfully clear set of spoor for us to follow the next day.
The hyenas’ visits were not just confined to the darkness. Whilst doing the early morning pre-drive check in the first week, the guys on duty were snuck up on by one of the larger females. Sadly no-one was there to witness them (heroically) leaping a good few feet from the ground over the back of the Land Rover to stand on the seat. It was our turn a couple of weeks later, but thankfully by this point we were as used to them as they were to us. Their boldness was staggering; they’d creep silently past where we were sitting chatting and grab the bin that was less than 5 meters away from us. The lucky duty team would then have to add ‘bin recovery and rubbish clear up’ to this list of early morning tasks - judging by the number of bite marks in the bin this was a common event.
The elephants crashed past camp one night; though we were all too deeply asleep to notice! The next day we went down to the river bed and followed the trail of destruction that they’d left behind them. Bushes had been stripped and trampled and huge branches had been ripped off the trees.
Savannah Baboons and Vervet Monkeys were frequent – and noisy – visitors to the area. The piercing screams of a youngster being disciplined by an alpha male are unnervingly human. A couple of snakes slithered through, including a Mozambican Spitting Cobra - certainly not one you’d want to mess with.
And then there was the night of the lions.
A few days earlier the lions had settled in the river bank near camp - only a couple of hundred meters from the volleyball court in fact, so the game needed to be played with a rifle to hand, just in case... That night we were coming back from an assessment drive and the spot light picked out the outline of three lions on the track leading to camp. Back at camp we were told to stay together and not go back to the tents: only three of the six lions had been accounted for. Throughout the night we heard them calling as they headed northwards, leaving behind a wonderfully clear set of spoor for us to follow the next day.
Daily Routine at Karongwe - by Ellen
Jaco drawing on the 'bush blackboard'
‘Duty days’ rotated by tent, and those on duty were up at 4.30 to put the kettles on, lay out tea, coffee and biscuits, and carry out the pre-drive checks on the Land Rover. At 5am they would wake the rest of the camp – some of them with interesting cover versions of “Morning Has Broken”. Thanks guys. By 5.30 we’d be ready for our first activity of the day; one group would walk and the other would drive. Even just a couple of hours after rising, the heat of the sun would be unbelievably strong, and our thoughts would often turn to a typical February morning at 6.30am as we’d have been walking to Brighton station in the cold and the dark and the rain.
We’d be back in camp by 9.30, ready to get the table set up for the enormous breakfast. 11am was lecture time, covering topics such as geology, climatology, habitat management, amphibians, astronomy, arachnids and mammals. There would then be a few hours that would be filled with studying, volleyball, table tennis or chilling before lunch at 3.30. By 4pm we’d be ready to head back out into the bush; the worst of heat was just about beginning to subside by the time. The group that had walked in the morning would drive in the afternoon, and vice versa. Walkers would head back to camp a little earlier than the drivers, so as to avoid being out on foot in the dark. The drivers would do the last half an hour or in the dark, sweeping the spot light from side to side to pick out any nocturnal creatures. Then it was time for yet another delicious meal (any fears of being hungry or losing weight in the bush were very quickly forgotten) and a couple of beers round the camp fire discussing the day’s sightings before bed.
Our syllabus was extensive, by the end of the course we needed to be able to identify 30 trees (as well as give their uses and any associated traditional beliefs), 15 grasses, all the animals we’d encountered in the reserve and the majority of the bird species – by sound and sight. On top of this we’d needed to be able to identify the rocks, explain how they were formed and how they determined landscape, soil, vegetation and animal population. We needed to understand lunar phases and eclipses, as well as learn the major star constellations in the Southern Hemisphere. We had to explain how to navigate using the Southern Cross which, incidentally sometimes doesn’t rise until 3am so be prepared for a long wait (and hope there aren’t too many hungry lions around) if you’re ever lost in the bush.
The learning curve was steep, and at times it seemed near impossible that we’ve ever get to grips with everything. Every week or so we’d have an exam, each one bigger and tougher than the last. We also had to give two presentations – on a topic of our choice - to the rest of the group. All this was for the ‘in house’ Eco Training course, it was only towards the end of the course that some of us would sit the official FGASA (Field Guides’ Association of Southern Africa) exam, those who passed this then had to do a 3-4 hour assessment drive in order to qualify – but more on that later.
Arriving at Camp (13th Jan) - by Ellen
The next morning we headed to Hoedspruit (which, by the way Evan, is pronounced hoodsprayt, not hooedsprooitt), where our transfer to was waiting, ready to whisk us off into the wilds of the African Lowveld.
We waited by the Spectre Gate (which, was just a few kilometres up the road from the turn off to London) in the baking heat. Peering inside looking for any sign of wildlife, but in the midday heat nothing was stirring. We’d met our first course mate on the transfer; Lucy was an English gap year student, adventuring her time away before starting Uni. The other bus load of people arrived from Jo’burg, the gate was opened...and we were all locked inside.
We waited by the Spectre Gate (which, was just a few kilometres up the road from the turn off to London) in the baking heat. Peering inside looking for any sign of wildlife, but in the midday heat nothing was stirring. We’d met our first course mate on the transfer; Lucy was an English gap year student, adventuring her time away before starting Uni. The other bus load of people arrived from Jo’burg, the gate was opened...and we were all locked inside.
There were 12 of us in total, plus our lead instructor Rob, his wife Karen and our other instructor Jaco. We students were a mixed bunch; with the 5 SA residents (Berno, Raymert, Roelien, Kathleen and Heman) being slightly outnumbered by the international crowd of the English (Lucy, Rob, Evan and myself), Dutch (Rob), French/Australian (Julia) and Argentinian (Antonella).
We were shown round the camp, allocated to tents in pairs and pointed in the direction of the indoor – and outdoor – bathrooms. The big canvas tents were pitched in the shade of the wooded area by the riverbed, along a path that, in the darkness of the night, seemed much longer than during the day. The main area of the camp comprised of four raised wooden decks with thatched roofs, two were sleeping decks (one above the kitchen), one was the meal and lecture deck and the other was Jaco’s house.
Introductions over, we broke the ice with an extensive game of volleyball in the dry, sandy riverbed near camp. Exhausted but excited, we settled down in our tents not long after dinner, falling asleep to the strange sounds of the night.
Last Days in Civilisation - by Ellen
Taking off from Cape Town
We flew from Cape Town to Jo’burg, collected our enormous Toyota Hilux truck (complete with bullet proof glass) and set off for Lydenburg. On the way we received a call from Evan’s cousin Collin. He’d just heard that there had been a fatal shark attack at the Fish Hoek beach where Evan had been swimming just a couple of days before! Perhaps Evan’s fear of being eaten by a shark isn’t so unfounded after all...
It took a few attempts to park the juggernaut neatly in the car park at the Purple Gecko guest house where we spent our last night in a room with solid walls, electricity and air con.
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