Giant Sable Conservation in Angola

Written by Pedro Vaz Pinto 

 

This past year finally allowed us to move forward with routine activities and reach a quasi-normality state after two years of facing all sorts of constraints derived from Covid-19 related restrictions. And on the ground, the year of 2022 did also feel different from the kick-off, if nothing else because in the two previous years, we faced a severe drought in the giant sable areas. But the seasonal rains which started in the last quarter of 2021 intensified significantly throughout the first quarter of 2022 and extended well into May. 

 

It’s a pity that we don’t have a functional weather station, but I felt that this was probably one of the wettest rainy seasons for the giant sable areas in the last two decades. And this sort of change was much needed to fill all the water holes, replenish the water tables and promote vegetation growth. 

 

Because of our movement restrictions during the previous couple of years, we were still unsure of how much the drought could have affected breeding and recruitment in sable herds, but at least now and, dependent on the climate, recovery was on the cards.

 

The major activity scheduled for 2022 was, without a doubt, an aerial survey and collaring exercise in Luando Reserve. The need to conduct a survey and obtain updated numbers had gained importance and urgency as we had recently lost some grip on the Luando population and were unsure of what was going on. There had been confounding factors at play. 

 

On one hand, the Covid years had caused much economic turmoil which was felt locally and led to a noticeable increase in poaching pressure. This fact, added to two consecutive and severe droughts, was a major reason for concern and could potentially be causing a significant decrease in sable numbers. 

 

On the other hand, we seemed to be having some success in tackling poaching, at least apparent from the number of poachers detained or weapons apprehended. 

 

Also, the fact that we had been experiencing a modest but consistent annual demographic increase of sable for the past 10 years, gave us reason for some optimism, guessing that the trend would not be easily reversed. Maybe the population had remained at least stable but there was a lot of uncertainty, and just when the Covid-related restrictions were being lifted, the heavy rains didn’t allow us to intensify movements on the ground, so we had to wait for proper surveys. 

We faced quite a few limitations when choosing the dates for the aerial campaign in Luando. Ideally, we would prefer to do the aerial surveys during the second half of July and into early August. Based on previous experiences, this seems to be the time when a larger percentage of the local miombo trees have temporarily lost leaf cover and most of the grass has burned. In other words, when the vegetation cover is less and the visibility is maximized. 

 

This is a general rule but the climatic factors of previous months are going to affect the conditions and timings. A lot of rain in the wet season will promote a lot of grass growth, which may lead to very intense fires in the dry season, but only after the grass has fully dried out. Also, a rainy season that ends early will anticipate the burnings in the dry season, while one that extends for longer than usual has the opposite effect. With this in mind, August would probably be the best time to conduct an aerial survey in Luando in 2022. 

 

However, we were forced to schedule the operation for a narrow window in early July, as Angola was having general elections in August and it

would be complicated and unadvisable to schedule such a complex exercise around those dates. In conclusion, we would be doing the survey several weeks too early, which we feared could make it harder to spot, count, and dart the animals, but of course, it would be much worse to cancel or postpone the work.

The team

For the 2022 aerial operation, we counted once again on Charlotte Meioux to carry out most of the veterinary work, under the supervision of Pete Morkel, who, apart from his legendary knowledge and experience, has also been a friend, playing a critical role in supporting our conservation efforts over the past 15 years.

 

The other critical component was the helicopter and, as the machines used in previous exercises were not available, we had to find an alternative, and a collaboration with the African Wildlife Conservation Trust facilitated the use of a Eurocopter squirrel B3 chopper operated by the very experienced Namibian pilot Carl-Heinz Moeller. The core team was set! 

 

As for the ground team, this year it was larger than in previous exercises and included young Angolan professionals and researchers, such as Timóteo Júlio from Kissama Foundation, Juliano from INBC, and Marcus Frazão, who is now enrolled on a PhD project in Biology focused on the feeding ecology of giant sable. Among other participants, we had the exceptional sculptor artist Murray Grant, who was working on and will kindly donate a giant sable bronze piece to the project; Carlos Sousa, representing the donor NGO Viridia; plus several other good and very special friends like Filippo Nardin and Genl Hanga. 

 

The very important logistics were secured by our good friends from Quessua, Ruth and David Schaad, and Marco. As always, the operation was done in close coordination with government authorities and we received crucial logistic support from the Angolan Air Force.

 

Objectives

The 2022 July operation had two main objectives. The first, as already discussed, was obtaining a massively important updated census, and the other was darting around 20 animals and deploying 18 GPS Iridium collars. As we assumed the existence of five giant sable herds in Luando, based on previous results, we decided as our goal to deploy at least two collars on females in each herd, plus five collars on bulls. The remaining three collars would give us margin to use on unexpected animals or we could try them on roan antelopes as it would be interesting and useful to understand how the two species segregate in the reserve.

 

The preparations for this operation took quite a long time to arrange and fine-tune and were not devoid of stress. But over the years, we have learned how to proceed and benefit from collaborative efforts with various government institutions, the Angolan military, and private companies operating in Angola.

 

We were a bit concerned about using a new helicopter, which had the advantage of being more powerful than other models we used in the past, but with the drawback of consuming a lot more fuel and being less maneuverable, and adding to the unfavorable conditions this year – low visibility with long grass and thick canopy cover. We feared that the sables could be hard to locate, difficult to count, and problematic to chase and dart from the chopper. 

 

Smooth sailing

Nevertheless, the operation went very well and with good rhythm, and we were able to achieve most objectives sooner than expected. Fortunately, in each of the five herds, there was at least one active collar transmitting a VHF signal, which, adding to our solid knowledge of how the various herds use the landscape based on many years of remote tracking, made it relatively easy to locate every group. 

 

The darting component also turned out to be surprisingly smooth and for a reason we had not anticipated: the long dry grass, especially on the extensive anharas, exerted a lot of friction and drag on the running antelopes, forcing them to slow down the pace and leaving them less prone to sudden change of direction when being chased at full speed. As result, the use of a more powerful chopper, even if a less agile machine, turned out really well, and overall this was surely the most efficient darting operation we conducted in Luando to date. 

 

Following our initial plans, we collared two females on each of the five giant sable herds of estimated ages spamming from 3 to 14 years old, including one recapture (Vian, replacing the GPS collar which had been deployed in 2019). We collared five solitary, mature but relatively young bulls, of 6 to 9 years of age, the older, Mario, also being a collar replacement. 

We then proceeded to collar two cows and one bull roan antelope. Three other animals were darted and marked but not collared, one roan cow and one sable bull for being too old, and one roan bull because it was injured.

 

If finding the groups and darting sables proved to be quite straightforward, we did struggle to obtain an updated census of the population. Probably because it was too early in the season. The herds were often dispersed and they weren’t forming as large and compact groups as they tend to be later as the dry season progresses. 

 

On top of this, the long dry grass made it very difficult to photograph the groups and count the animals, especially calves and young sables. Interestingly, we also struggled to find solitary giant sable bulls, possibly because dominant bulls are very confident and can hold their ground arrogantly when the helicopter approaches and become hardly visible if they are in the woodland under the canopy. This situation will change later in the season when most of the grass burns and the trees lose their leaves, making the bulls stand out in the barren landscape. 

 

At the end of the aerial surveys, we lacked enough data to assess the trends and certainly could not provide updated numbers. Some herds seemed to be doing ok while others appeared to be in bad condition, but most groups were scattered and this update was inconclusive. Maybe there were some missing subunits, and a good number of females isolated for calving etc. In order to count them, we would need to return later and try to drone the herds.

Evidence of poaching

 

As always, we are sad to report on evidence of poaching picked up during the campaign. Three of the darted animals, all bulls, had been victims of snares. 

 

The worst case was our recaptured sable bull, nine-year-old Mario, who had barely survived a recent encounter with a snare trap. His left foreleg was in shocking condition, with the snare cable now embedded into the hand tissue and having exposed flesh replacing the hooves. We darted Mario and treated his injury and replaced his GPS collar. We expect Mario’s wounds to heal and he should make a relatively good recovery, but it is doubtful if he may ever be dominant. Most likely he will never stand a chance to compete with other bulls and breed. 

 

Then, and much to our surprise, during this operation, we also came across evidence of neck snares. One darted roan bull was injured and carried a wire cable around his neck. As result, he had an infected wound on his upper neck near the back of the skull. But it was recent and we were able to treat it, so we expect the poor animal to make a full recovery soon. We also darted another sable bull, with an obvious scar around his neck, indicating that he had survived a neck snare after a long-suffering period. These types of snares are designed to catch large animals with the snare fitting around the neck rather than catching them on the feet. Head snares are commonly used in southern Angola but are only seldom recorded in the giant sable areas, and it was the first time we came across them in Luando. 

In addition, we also came across various lines of foot snares surrounding recently burnt patches of grass. Worryingly, we realized that some of the new traps were more sophisticated, integrating simple but ingenious mechanisms and combining different materials to tackle very large animals and minimize the chances of them getting away. It seems clear that local poachers are stepping up their techniques and methodologies, almost surely getting more efficient, and specifically targeting the larger antelopes in the area, which are roan and giant sable. This was a most worrying find, likely another indirect result of the previous two chaotic years, and suggesting the possibility that some of the poachers might be newcomers from other regions.

Send out the drones

 

Having failed to complete a good aerial census early in the dry season, we planned a different approach for later in the year. 

 

At end of September and into early October, timed to coincide with the mating season, we used the daily tracking data retrieved from the collars to approach all the herds and film them from above with drones. The various herds are located in remote areas with poor ground access and the seasonal rains also started earlier than expected, so we had to overcome several logistical challenges. 

 

For this 10-day long exercise, we took the two battered Land Cruisers, a couple of quad bikes (one broke down along the way and had to be towed back on return), and a couple bikes, and camped along the way. We kept satellite communications with the office, who provided updated coordinates for the location of a collared female. 

 

Typically, we would progress in convoy cross-country until getting reasonably close to the geo-location transmitted by satellite, making the first stop somewhere between two to ten kilometers away, depending on the terrain. From there we proceeded with bikes, preferably upwind, started to triangulate the radio-telemetry as we got closer, and updated often with satellite data. Then, at 1.2 to 1.5 km we would park the bikes and continue on foot. Finally, we would make the last stop at some 600 to 900 meters before the herd, and launch the drone. 

 

Finding the herds by drone can often be quite difficult, especially through the miombo canopy. It took us a couple days and several trials and errors, but eventually, we fine-tuned the methodology, defining the optimum flight height and camera angle. We had to return to a couple herds twice, but eventually, we were able to film all but one collared female and obtained some really spectacular footage. More importantly, we obtained the much-needed population demographic data. 

 

Population count

We found that three of the five herds had split into two subgroups, and for two of them, we failed to record the second unit. It’s still early days to determine if these subgroups will re-join or indicate the genesis of new herds. Even though we did not necessarily film all the sable, based on complementary data obtained in July and previous years, we can infer total numbers with some confidence.

 

Overall, the population numbers obtained are disappointing and quite concerning, pointing to around 155 sables in Luando, and therefore suggesting an estimated decrease of around 10% over three years, from the 170 estimated in 2019. Such a result is alarming and inverted a positive trend that lasted for over a decade, but I believe the causes can be easily dissected. 

 

Two years of global madness have severely disrupted our monitoring activities and made law enforcement much harder too, while at the same time, leading to an economic crisis, local unemployment, and the unavoidable increased poaching pressure. And coinciding with this, we faced two consecutive years of drought which must have affected sable breeding and calf survival. I guess this creates a perfect storm. 

 

Even though we lost about 10% of the population over three years, the loss was not homogenous, and not all herds performed badly. It turns out that the herd located closest to the ranger post actually increased by about 50% over this period, while two other herds located within about 20km of the ranger post managed to remain approximately stable. The bigger losses were suffered by the more distantly-located herds, losing between 25% and 45% of their numbers. 

 

The fact that the distance to the ranger post seems to be such a good predictor of herd performance clearly shows that poaching is the main factor driving sable demography, and also strongly suggests that the rangers have been quite efficient within a relatively short distance from the post, but their influence dropped significantly further away. The poachers are likely aware of these shortcomings, and it seems clear that we need to address this in the near future. A good place to start might be building a second ranger post in another remote and strategic area, and this will be a priority task that we will try to accomplish in 2023.

Unfortunately, we had major issues with GPS collars, with a good number failing within the first six months. For reasons which are not entirely clear yet, the collars deployed in bulls seem to be more prone to catastrophic failure. By December 2022 we had lost half of the six such collars (two on sable bulls and one on the roan bull) and a fourth collar is only just lingering and very occasionally communicating. 

 

So, we’re now down to two perfectly operating bull collars – the ones deployed on bulls that had been victims of snares. It appears collars last longer on physically handicapped males which could be something to do with their behavior and/or collar fitting. 

 

This issue is something we are looking into and discussing among the team and the collar manufacturers, and hopefully, we will sort it out for future campaigns. We also lost three female collars due to malfunction (a fourth collar was lost for entirely different reasons which will be explained further down), but at least we still keep track of the five herds, including one still split into two subgroups.

 

Skilled poachers strike Luando

As mentioned earlier, we also lost a fourth female collar, but this one under the most nefarious circumstances. Julia, until then a young and healthy seven-year-old female was the victim of poaching. By interpreting the remote data retrieved from the satellite collars, we were able to almost see the drama unfolding early in September. 

 

Julia moved into the Luando floodplain with the rest of her herd to drink, and soon after the other collared female returned to the woodland while Julia remained stationary. The following day the collar was not transmitting. The pattern was highly suspicious and we immediately tried to send the alarm to the rangers. 

 

Unfortunately, we faced a few communication issues and, due to the remoteness of the area, it took another 48 hours for the ranger team to arrive on the site to check. By then it was already too late! Julia had been killed and the poachers had already left the scene. 

 

When poachers kill a large antelope such as a sable, they face two immediate problems:

 1) They know they have killed a highly valuable and protected species, so they need to be extra careful; and 

2) to be able to process such a large animal they have two options. Either they move away from the reserve quickly while taking whole fresh carcass – which is quite risky as they can be seen by villagers so this is only possible if they are relatively close to the border; or they smoke the meat on a nearby camp, an activity that may take them at least a few days during which they will also be vulnerable. In the past, we have often come across the “smoking” camps, and if this was the case with Julia, we would have arrived in time to intercept the poachers.

 

Unfortunately, Julia had been poached right next to the Luando river, making it relatively easy for the poachers to get away by crossing the river into safety within a few hours. These poachers were actually quite efficient and made an almost clean job at hiding all the evidence of what had happened – we would never have figured it out if it wasn’t for the remote tracking. 

 

The first thing they did was destroy the collar, which was enough for us to realize that something bad had happened, but limited our understanding of the scene and suggests that the poachers knew, or suspected, that the collar could be compromising for them. Then, they tried very hard to clean up the scene, covering all signs of traps and removing any evidence that could suggest a sable had died there. 

 

When the ranger team first arrived at the crime scene, they found nothing suspicious and had to double re-check the GPS data and conducted a more thorough investigation only upon our insistence. Eventually, they did find the half-hidden holes where eight gin traps had been strategically placed around the water hole. 

 

Furthermore, the rangers were curious to note that more bees were swarming on a certain nearby patch of dry grass rather than at the water, and under that grass, they found a pool of blood, a sable horn tip, and some tiny bone fragments. 

 

This was the final piece of evidence and revealed the likely spot where the poor female went while struggling, breaking the horn tip, and the bone fragments must have been splinters from a fractured leg. Nothing else was found, and the collar is still missing, it must have been destroyed and either thrown into the river or buried. 

 

The incident is still under investigation, but realistically we may never find the culprits. This, of course, illustrates what the most direct threat to the survival of giant sable is. We collared 10 females and lost a young one to poachers within six months. It’s not a good sign. Throughout the year, the rangers also detained several poachers and confiscated a good number of snares and weapons. Let’s hope 2023 will unfold more in our favor in Luando.

 

Cangandala National Park

Contrasting to the situation in Luando Reserve, the giant sable numbers have kept increasing steadily in Cangandala National Park. 

 

The giant sable herd in the sanctuary in Cangandala is doing very well, with the animals habituated to our presence, and based on our routine monitoring, we estimate the numbers to be around 115 sables. These numbers suggest that Cangandala is likely maintaining an annual increase of around 10 to 12%. 

 

Overall, the growth in Cangandala compensates for the loss recorded in Luando, although not by much. But at least we can state the global giant sable population is still increasing, even though Cangangala currently accounts for about 42% of the total, which is clearly unbalanced if one considers that in this park they were virtually extinct 15 years ago and that Luando is 15 times larger in land surface area. 

 

Breeding and calving seem to be progressing exceptionally well in Cangandala, but the social dynamics are now quite complex and difficult to keep track of. The older bull, good old Mercury, the first calf to be born in the sanctuary in 2010, was spotted and photographed a couple of times this year. Mercury was healthy and relaxed, but his collar is no longer active and he seems to have chosen a life of solitude and is apparently avoiding or ignoring the female herds and all the bull frenzy that comes with it. It’s the same with other older bulls, such as the exceptional Eolo, which I encountered only once by chance. 

 

On the other hand, quite a lot of younger bulls now seem to evolve around the herds, and it was quite interesting to observe their behavior during the breeding season, in September and October, when at certain times, more than 20 bulls would surround the females. Hierarchies were set and occasionally challenged, but nothing serious, and it is quite amazing to see how so many testosterone-pumped bulls orbit around several receptive females without fighting. 

 

Despite the consistent growth in Cangandala, remarkably we still have some poaching incidents happening inside the sanctuary, as several sables show snare injuries. This is shocking and a major concern, which we are trying to tackle at the moment.

 

All considered, 2022 was another rollercoaster year; we had some good wins and some frustrating losses, but overall I feel we are making progress and I expect 2023 will be a better one! 

Campfire Thoughts & Reminiscences Part 11

ritten by Neil Harmse

 

Chapter 12. Wilderness Trails

 

My life in the bush had its moments of excitement when dealing with problem animals and I have mentioned incidents on hunts and while guiding clients on safaris. However, when I think back, one of the most rewarding periods was when I was appointed Field Director to head up the (then) Transvaal branch of the Wilderness Leadership School, which at that time was conducting environmental educational trails and courses for young people in the Timbavati game reserve bordering the Kruger National Park, as well as in the wilderness area of the Pilanesberg Reserve in the (then) Northern Province. 

 

An early-morning wake-up with steaming pot of coffee.

The Wilderness Leadership School trails was a concept introduced by Dr Ian Player, who realised the need to increase knowledge and understanding of wildlife and conservation among the youth and future leaders of South Africa. These trails were initially conducted in (then) Natal reserves such as Umfolozi and Hluhluwe, where Dr Player was based. The Transvaal branch was initiated and mainly run by an enthusiastic group of volunteers who gave up their spare time and weekends to introduce this wilderness concept. Men and women such as Laurie Wright, Arnie Warburton, Sally Kernick and other volunteers enthusiastically and energetically did everything they could to set up trail

 

programmes for the branch under the direction of experienced guides such as Tim Braybrook and Bruce Dell. Being a largely volunteer operation, it was rather loosely run, and my appointment as Senior Guide and Field Director was to try to control operations and also do fundraising to support the youth trails.

One of my first challenges was when I realised that these volunteer guides, enthusiastic as they were, lacked certain bush knowledge, firearm training and discipline. The guides were issued with rifles in .458 and .375 calibres belonging to the school, but had never fired them and, in one instance, the guide carried an unloaded rifle because he was afraid of the recoil.

 

I immediately cancelled all trails in dangerous game areas and drew up two volumes of training manuals and courses which the guides had to study and be proficient in before they were permitted to wear the epaulettes of a WLS guide. They were then considered safe and knowledgeable enough to conduct trails in big-game areas. These training manuals and courses became the basis for training for what was later to become the Field Guide Association of SA (FGASA).

 

With the help and collaboration of other similar associations such as the Wildlife Society of SA under Director Fred Roux and the Endangered Wildlife Trust under Director Clive Walker, a workshop was held at the Lapalala Wilderness Reserve and together with conservationists such as Mike Landman (National Parks Board), Drummond Densham (Natal Parks), Andy Dott (Drifters) and many other experts, this was the foundation of the FGASA and a constitution was drawn up to cover guides and guiding in South Africa. With that introduction covered, I was able to use funds raised from various corporations and businesses to support underprivileged youth groups who were selected to be introduced to the trails and conservation concepts. These were strange to many of them, as they came from urban environments and had never experienced the bush. These young people would hopefully be the leaders and torch-bearers in future conservation concepts and policies. These trails were extremely rewarding and it was interesting to see the interaction between the young people from different race groups who had never mixed closely and socially before.

Anticipating comfortable rondavel accommodation and camp amenities where we could relax, we were shocked at the state of the camp. All the buildings had been virtually destroyed and featured bullet holes, roofs burned off and mortar damage from past conflicts. We decided to set up camp away from this sad sight and found an area with shady trees about 200m from the camp. Here we made ourselves comfortable and as it was getting late, we soon had a fire going and food on the grill. Being rather tired from the long drive, everyone felt we could do without showers or baths until the next morning. The ranger, Armando, mentioned that we could take an early-morning walk to the banks of the Save, where we could wash up and perform ablutions.

Planning the next walk.

The trails were extremely basic, with no tents, lamps or luxuries. The idea was to live close to nature and learn the value of natural resources such as water, wood and food. We would backpack into the area carrying all we needed to the campsite, which had no facilities. Some of the trailists were horrified to realise that they would be living in such a primitive area and conditions for the next few days. Many had never been away from their homes before. A perimeter of stones would be put in a circle for the campfire and everyone would collect dry wood from the surrounding bush. A lecture on the value of wood as a resource served to remind them that fires must be kept small, just enough to cook on and give light at night. No big bonfires were allowed. I would explain that some animals such as lion and rhino were attracted by the flames and, out of curiosity, would come closer to find out what was happening in their territory. A night-watch roster was arranged and it was up to the trailist to establish what the next person would like to have to drink when woken up – tea, coffee or hot chocolate. The one going to bed would need to hand the drink to the next person going on watch and chat for a few minutes. This not only established a bond between them, but also ensured that the one on watch was fully alert and not likely to be half-asleep. If anyone heard strange noises or was afraid, they could wake me for reassurance. Sleeping arrangements were on high-density camp mattresses in a circle around the campfire. I noted with interest that there was restlessness the first night, but on the second or third night, after daily walks and activities, everyone slept soundly. The night watch brought some amusing moments, especially when big-game animals approached the camp area. On one trail, I was lying listening to some lion in the far distance when I became aware they were approaching the camp. I could hear their muffled grunts as they approached, then silence for a while. Suddenly one of the lions let out a roar, which woke everyone. One of the young lads started screaming and shot headfirst into his sleeping bag. With his head at the bottom of it, his muffled screams continued, which I think so frightened the lions that they disappeared in a hurry. It took me quite a while to assure the poor youngster that there was no danger and persuade him to come out of the sleeping bag. No-one wanted to go to sleep and for the rest of the night, I sat up with the group telling them bush stories. Elephant, rhino and, naturally, hyena were all visitors at various times, adding excitement to the experience.

Hiking along a dry riverbed in Timbavati.

Introduction to the bush.

Most days started at dawn and after coffee or tea and rusks, we would set off through the bush, silently in single file, stopping every now and then to discuss points of interest, often about the value of various plants, trees and shrubs for medicinal, cultural or other purposes. Within about three days, many in the group would recognise the plants and talk about what they learnt. Middens and droppings of various animals were also points of interest. Spoors and tracks were studied and soon the trailists could identify and track directions. On some trails where I felt they were wasting water, I would walk the group out of camp with full water bottles. After about half an hour, we would stop and have a discussion on water as a natural resource and its importance to both humans and animals for survival. I would then have them pour the water out of their bottles and continue walking with empty bottles. Just the idea of an empty bottle would have a psychological effect, making them want a drink. We would stop under a tree and again discuss the importance of water, and they would each have an apple or orange while we rested. Once we started walking, I would head in the direction I knew was a river line and after about an hour or so, we would again stop for a rest and I would point out a green tree line in the distance and tell them there was a river where we could get water. As we approached the tree line, I would notice their pace picking up in their hurry to get to water. As we reached the riverbed, I could see their disbelief and frowns as we stood in the dry, sandy riverbed, and they would ask where the water was. I would lead them to a spot where the elephant had excavated a hole in the sand to reach water and then explain that the water was underground. To reach it, we had to dig as the elephants did. I showed them how to dig, keeping the sides in a funnel shape to prevent the hole from collapsing, and eventually heard excited voices as they found moist soil and then water seeping up into the hole. They learnt to let the water settle and clear before slowly filling their bottles. This was one of the best lessons on awareness and conservation of water.

 

Some of the trails had a few interesting characters. I remember one youngster called Brett who was fascinated by snakes and scorpions. He was always scratching under rocks and logs to see what was hiding there. At one stage, he gave a happy shout and came running up holding a young puff adder by the tail. I was horrified, but he was quite at ease and everyone wanted to take a photo. I eventually had him release the reptile. We then had a discussion about the role of snakes in nature. A good lesson for all. Brett was knowledgeable because he collected snakes and scorpions as a hobby, so he was in his element.

One day, a group of young trailists and I walked out for a few hours to set up a fly camp at a distant water hole. This was the second-last day of our trail and we were on ‘dry rations’: biscuits, tinned veggies and bully beef. On arrival at the water hole, we spotted a group of four lions that had pulled down an impala ram, which was lying half in the water. We watched for a while and then I said: ‘We’re incredibly lucky, because tonight we can have fresh impala steaks for dinner.’ I moved towards the lions, which grumbled and growled, but moved away from the kill. I approached the impala and, using my knife, removed two fillets from the carcass and slowly walked away, letting the

Discussing the day’s adventures.

lions return to their kill. We watched the lions as they devoured the impala and then moved off to find a shady spot in which to rest. We then set up our camp area under some trees on the opposite side of the water hole. One or two of the youngsters were horrified at the idea of eating these impala steaks: the only meat they had ever tasted came from their butcher or supermarket, wrapped in a nice plastic package. However, at dinner time, with the pangs of hunger and aroma of fresh meat on the braai, everyone tucked into the meal with enthusiasm. Another important lesson from the wilderness.

 

One of the interesting and rewarding aspects of these youth trails was on the final day, when I would space the young people about 20m apart along a stream bed, out of sight of each other. Each had a note pad and pen, and I would ask them to sit quietly for a while and then write down their thoughts, anything they felt they had learnt or had piqued their interest during the experiences they had shared. I was amazed by some of the notes compiled by the youngsters. Brett, the collector of snakes and scorpions, wrote that he had learnt that the secret of successful communication was to put aside all bias and misconceptions and talk openly and freely. He also wrote that he felt there was harmony between animals because they were all reliant on nature, food chains and their respective roles in the ecosystem for survival. Harmony among mankind had never existed since the fall of Adam and Eve. Racial bias was an important factor in disunity among people and Brett felt that by spending a week in the neutral environment of the bush, he had learnt respect for his new black friends, from whom he had gained greater insights into cultural and political problems. He wrote that the most striking lesson for him had been the colour-blindness of those few days spent in the bush, and he would carry that experience with him into his life ahead. By working together and co-operating for a common goal, he felt that there was a future for racial co-operation in our country. He finished off by writing that he had learnt to appreciate home comforts and the value of water and natural resources. His closing words were: ‘I will now work on inter-racial interaction, knowing that there is hope in sight, even though it is a small light at the end of the tunnel. I am a better person having had this experience.’ Wise words and a good summary of lessons learnt by a teenager over 30 years ago. Many other notes were written in a similar vein. I often think of these youngsters and wonder how their future has been shaped from lessons learnt on those wilderness experiences. For me, it was a very worthwhile and rewarding experience helping to share the wilderness and gain an insight into the changes that it made to their lives.

To order Campfire Thoughts & Reminiscences – the complete book with illustrations (US $15 excluding S&H), contact Andrew Meyer at andrewisikhova@icloud.com

Classic and Contemporary African Hunting Literature

Strange Tales from the African Bush

Hannes Wessels (Safari Press, 2009, 234 pages.)

Reviewed by Ken Bailey

 

As is suggested by its title, Hannes Wessels’ Strange Tales from the African Bush is not your typical book that describing someone’s African hunting exploits. But then, Wessels is not your typical author. He grew up in Zimbabwe along the Mozambique border, where his interests in hunting and the outdoor lifestyle blossomed. As did many young men in the day, Wessels served in the Rhodesian War, but soon after returned to school and earned a law degree. Deciding the law wasn’t the profession for him, he turned to the bush, and spent 20 years hunting professionally, and recreationally, in Mozambique, Zambia, Zimbabwe and Tanzania. This well-written and highly-entertaining book is part autobiographical, including the horrifying tale of Wessels nearly losing his life in 1994 when he was gored by a buffalo in Masailand. Much of it, however, consists of Wessels relating the strange but true stories of people and places he’s known over the years.

 

One story of note tells the tale of the young PH who wanted to impress the beautiful young daughter of his client on a hunt along Zambia’s famed Luangwa River valley. Without giving away too many of the details, the PH ended up with the barrel of his .416 Rigby unintentionally inserted in his posterior with such precision and force that he required surgery to have it removed. As might be expected, he didn’t make the impression he’d intended on the young lady.

 

Two separate tails describe incidences where game wardens and guides ended up in hollowed-out baobab trees with uninvited guests – in one case a leopard, in the other a black mamba. In another tale, Wessels relates the misfortune of two young PHs send to explore an uncharted river for potential safari camps who ultimately end up walking for more than a week with little more than a knife and their wits as they struggle to make it back to civilization, all the while dodging hippos, crocodiles, leopards and a wide assortment of other challenges.

 

Wessels clearly has a passion for the African bush way of life that shines through in his varied stories of PHs, clients, trackers, poachers and assorted other characters; his tales are at times funny, sad or frightening, and always entertaining, but never are they mean-spirited or derisive. If you pick this book up, I guarantee you’ll read it cover to cover, enjoying the ride.

A Little Namibian Adventure

Written by Alan Tuck

 

In September 2022, I hunted at Okarumuti Game Lodge, 70km outside Windhoek, Namibia.

 

The Italian-owned and -run lodge, located almost exactly in the center of the country, has a working cattle ranch that sells hunts.

 

On my trip, I killed a steenbok, a springbok, an impala, and an oryx. The ranch also has a very large herd of giraffe.

 

My cabin was one of five. It was very nice. The family-style meals were excellent. I would recommend it to a family, a first-time hunter, or an older hunter.

 

Campfire Thoughts & Reminiscences Part 10

Written by Neil Harmse

 

Chapter 11. An Expedition into Mozambique

 

 

The 1980s were a busy time for conducting walking trails and I also got involved with game control operations. By way of something different, I was asked by my good friend Loot Schulz, the owner and Director of Pungwe Safari Camp in the Manyeleti Game Reserve, to accompany him on a trip to Mozambique to evaluate a game park called Zinave for possible restocking with game animals and to restore it as a tourist venture as part of the planned trans-frontier park project.

 

Loot and I had been involved in several conservation and tourism ventures, including the Manyeleti Game Reserve land claim, planning the Ivory Route and the Maluleke community project, to name a few. Loot had been approached by the new Mozambican government on the recommendation of Dave Law, the owner of Barra Lodge in Mozambique, to put an expedition together for this venture. The party would comprise six people, all with a background in tourism and conservation. We would be the first group of South Africans to enter Mozambique since the end of hostilities of the civil war. The plan was for Loot and I to travel in his Land Rover, while Pierre Sutherland and Gustav Wipplinger followed in Pierre’s Land Cruiser. We would meet up at the SAPS border control at Pafuri in the far north of the Kruger Park and, from there, enter Mozambique. Dave Law and Loot’s wife, Cilla, would travel from Barra Lodge on the Mozambique coast and meet us at a small town on the road to Zinave Park.

 

Loot had tried to obtain visas from the Mozambican embassy in Johannesburg, but by the time of our planned departure, these were not ready. We were told that documents could be obtained at the border control post.

 

Formalities on the South African side went off smoothly and, being late and tired after our long journey, we were kindly offered accommodation at the SA military base by the colonel in command. Early the following morning, we set off on the next stage of our journey to arrange the entry into Mozambique, then cross the Limpopo River and continue to Mapai, a small town which had been a flash point during the war with Rhodesian forces and Mozambique soldiers.

 

Our approach to the Mozambique border control was met with military personnel in assorted and varied camouflage dress, with a variety of firearms (mostly AK-47s and a few shotguns) all being pointed or waved in our direction. This was quite daunting and not a welcome sight. We were directed into a rather dilapidated house and shown to sit on what appeared to be a wooden school bench. After about half an hour, one of the men who had been standing in a group talking approached us. We explained that we required documentation to travel to the Zinave reserve. This provoked another unintelligible discussion and our passports were scrutinised. These were then thrown into a desk drawer and a letter was scribbled on a page from a notebook, which was then torn out and given to us. All the conversation was in what seemed to be a mixture of Portuguese and Shangaan or Tsonga, which we could not understand. However, we eventually made out that we had to travel with this piece of paper and would be able to retrieve our passports upon our return to the border control. We could not make out what was written on the paper, except for the word ‘Gaza’, which was the province we had entered. We had to travel out of Gaza into Inhambane province to reach Zinave.

With some trepidation, we started our journey to the Limpopo crossing and Mapai. Travelling along the road, we noticed a few homesteads which at one time must have been the stately residences of Portuguese families who had fled, been expelled (or worse) during the war. The houses all showed signs of conflict, such as bullet holes and fire damage. Initially, the road was in a reasonable condition and we hoped it would remain that way throughout the trip.

 

The Limpopo River was fairly low, since this was the dry season, and we crossed with no problems. Loot decided to stop in the water to wash the dust and grime off the Land Rover. We then took a short drive into the town of Mapai, where we wanted to stock up with fresh fruit and vegetables, but we had no luck: there was hardly anything worth buying. So on we went again, through to the road heading past the Banhine National Park en route to Inhambane province and the Zinave reserve.

 

The road to Banhine showed signs of roadworks, with some really bad humps and dips which we had to traverse slowly. Once past Banhine, however, the roads gradually became worse until they were mainly potholes and dongas. Loot hit one unseen donga with a force that rattled the vehicle, causing two jerry cans of fuel to fly off the back. One of them was damaged and half the fuel in it lost. We went past many small villages where people appeared to be poverty-stricken and starving. Pot-bellied children ran alongside our vehicle, begging for food. In some villages, they waved reed- or stick-woven baskets containing rats which they were trying to sell. The only animals we saw were a few mangy dogs, scrawny goats and the odd donkey. It was very sad to see the effects and aftermath of the long, drawn-out war. Almost all the villages had enormous grain baskets standing on stilted platforms to keep them off the ground, but the majority of them were empty. The harvest had been poor.

 

It had been a long, hard drive and we finally found a campsite in the bush where we could put up a few canvas flysheets to keep the dew off. Soon we had a comforting fire going, with steaks and sausages on the coals. A few beers were opened to slake our thirst and end the day.

 

Early the next morning, we turned north-east towards Zinave and the road seemed to deteriorate with every kilometre, although the vegetation improved. There were groves of beautiful fever trees in swampy areas, massive baobab trees which had to be hundreds of years old and forests of ironwood trees. At one place we came across a logging operation, with many logs of Chamfuti or mahogany trees which had been felled for export timber. This was the work of a Chinese consortium which was stripping the land of these magnificent trees.

Rusted Russian tank, a relic from the war.

Limpopo crossing with the Jeep.

To our surprise, on the roadside we came across a shot-up and derelict Russian tank – a relic of the past conflict. It gave us a chance to stretch our legs and take photos of us sitting aboard the shell.

 

A few hours later, we had reached the small town where we were to meet up with Dave and Cilla, who were driving from Barra Lodge on the coast. Here we had also arranged to meet the ranger or manager of Zinave, who would guide us into the reserve.

 

Dave and Cilla duly arrived and about an hour later, the ranger made his appearance. It was decided that I would travel with him in the lead vehicle and Cilla and Dave would drive with Loot, while Pierre and Gustav would bring up the rear. I was a bit concerned about the Toyota Hilux that the ranger was driving: the exhaust was broken and making a terrible racket, the radiator cap was missing and the radiator stuffed closed with a rag, while the same solution had been applied to the missing petrol cap. Conversation was rather limited because of the noise coming not only from the exhaust, but also from assorted rattles and squeals in various parts of the vehicle which seemed to be held together with wire, tape and diverse fastenings not designed by the factory. We had to stop every few kilometres to replenish the water in the radiator. There were about four 20-litre cans of water in the back, but I soon wondered whether these would be enough!

From our limited conversation, I learnt that the wildlife in Zinave was almost non-existent. There were rumoured to be about 10 or 12 buffalo ‘somewhere’ in the 40 000km² reserve, but Armando, the ranger, had only found tracks and had not seen the animals. During the war, the reserve had served as the military headquarters of the Renamo military faction and had been a point of conflict for years. Renamo soldiers would shoot any animal they came across, mainly for food. When they were away from the reserve or driven out, the Frelimo forces would occupy and shoot indiscriminately. In this way, all wildlife had been decimated almost to extinction. In addition, there were about 4 000 people living within the reserve boundaries, which also took a heavy toll on the wildlife and resources. Not an encouraging situation.

 

About two hours’ drive brought us to the boundary of Zinave and as we drove in, we were impressed by the number of enormous baobab trees and thickets of fever trees. What immediately came to our attention was the shortage or absence of animals and birds. It was quite eerie to be in an area with no signs of life. Driving through the reserve, we saw only a few scrawny yellow-billed hornbills, a couple of vervet monkeys and one lonely impala running for its life. The day was now drawing to an end and the ranger suggested we drive to an old tourist camp on the banks of the Save River. Here we could make camp and overnight.

Anticipating comfortable rondavel accommodation and camp amenities where we could relax, we were shocked at the state of the camp. All the buildings had been virtually destroyed and featured bullet holes, roofs burned off and mortar damage from past conflicts. We decided to set up camp away from this sad sight and found an area with shady trees about 200m from the camp. Here we made ourselves comfortable and as it was getting late, we soon had a fire going and food on the grill. Being rather tired from the long drive, everyone felt we could do without showers or baths until the next morning. The ranger, Armando, mentioned that we could take an early-morning walk to the banks of the Save, where we could wash up and perform ablutions.

A baobab tree dwarfing the jeep.

Photos of Bvekenya (‘he swaggers when he walks’) Cecil Barnard (Shangaan name) – Ivory Trail.

At dawn, we were up and made our way to the river. It was reputed to have many large crocodiles and pods of hippo, according to stories told by early hunters in the old days. It had been one of the hunting grounds of Cecil ‘Bvekenya’ (‘the one who swaggers’) Barnard, of Tom Bulpin’s Ivory Trail adventures. The river was fairly low, but flowing slowly; the wide, sandy banks were clean and again devoid of animal and bird tracks, with no sign of a crocodile track or tail drag marks anywhere. Carefully, we stepped into the clear water, looking out for any movement in it. Eventually we were brave enough to lie down in the cool water and have a wash, a shampoo and generally enjoy our ablutions. Armando told 62 us that even the crocodiles had been targets of the bloodthirsty soldiers. We made our way back to camp and a hearty breakfast before setting off again to explore the reserve.

 

Hours of driving brought nothing new, very little bird life and no game animals other than a few mongooses. We did

come across a few groups of people hunting with spears, accompanied by dogs and carrying snares, looking for whatever they could find. It was quite soul-destroying to think that a paradise like this could be wiped out in a few years by the greed and bloodlust of mankind. As a group, we decided to head back to camp to discuss what we had observed and pool our thoughts about the potential and future prospects of Zinave as a game reserve. When we arrived there, we enjoyed a late, light lunch of salad and leftover wors and chops which Cilla managed to turn into a delicious meal with some home- (camp-) baked roosterkoek (griddle cakes).

Cutting down of Chamfuti trees.

A relic of the war.

Another abandoned and war-damaged property.

I took a walk to the old camp to satisfy my curiosity. In one of the passages between the buildings, I was rather shocked to come across a human skull lying in the leaves and debris. It had what appeared to be a bullet hole above the right eye socket. Who this poor soul was and how he had come to die here is a story that will probably never be told. Just another casualty of a senseless war. After this, I decided I had had enough of exploring the deserted camp and made my way back to the group for some live company and a discussion about the way forward.

 

Each one of the groups had years of experience and qualifications in the conservation and tourism industry, so the input would be interesting. Generally, everyone had seen enough and decided it was not worth driving around, as it was just time wasted. To make a success of developing the reserve, the 4 000 people living within its boundaries would have to be relocated and even the villages on the borders would have to move in order to prevent large-scale poaching activities. This would be very difficult to implement and there would be resistance from both the communities and the Mozambican development agencies. SANPARKS and the Kruger National Park had offered to translocate game animals, including elephant, as a donation to the trans-frontier parks initiative, but we felt that this would be like opening a ‘free-lunch’ operation. Unless restrictions and control measures could be implemented, it simply would not work. So, sitting in the bush around the campfire with thoughts fresh in our heads, we drew up our draft report to be sent off to the principals involved.

 

The next morning, we started the long journey back to South Africa still mulling over the past week’s experiences. Fortunately, the trip back was mostly uneventful and, much to our relief, our passports were indeed still waiting for us at the border control. It was a great relief to be back on home soil again, with memories of shared experiences that would remain with us for years to come.

Camp on the Save River.

To order Campfire Thoughts & Reminiscences – the complete book with illustrations (US $15 excluding S&H), contact Andrew Meyer at andrewisikhova@icloud.com

Elephants and Mega Wildlife

Written by Richard Lendrum

It was just over 20 years since I last sat down and had dinner with Johan after his life-altering buffalo attack.

 

Much has changed in Johan Calitz’s life since then; and what a treat to catch up and spend five whole days with this extremely impressive, but unassuming member of the hunting and tourism industry. “I owe everything to the elephants,” is something Johan said in our time together. Even the logo of the luxury photographic camp, Qorokwe, was what he specifically wanted incorporated, subtly paying tribute to these African wonders of nature.

 

Johan started hunting because of his father who was, and remained, a passionate hunter. Johan shot his first elephant at 14, and then by 19 he had taken the Big Five. Whether that is something the average teenager can even comprehend, let alone absorb and appreciate, is debatable. What is not up for debate, is how that laid the foundation for his future career. Johan has gone on to respect and revere these creatures more and more, eventually running Africa’s greatest elephant hunting operation along the way. This kind of success could understandably go to one’s head – over 120 bulls in one season when at its peak. Hunting Africa’s greatest animal, the ultimate in big game, certainly in age and size, was something Johan took in his stride, while remaining the humble person he always was.

 

And then it stopped.

An area Johan had had since 1999 was, fortuitously, ideal for photographic safaris. And as the industry has grown and evolved so, too, was the timing right for change – in particular, given the then President’s stance on hunting. The opening of Qorokwe in 2019 was something of what dreams are made. A truly magnificent camp that is simply impossible to describe in the limited space – but this link will give you an idea of what I am talking about.

 

This, ladies and gentlemen, is heaven on earth.

Johan’s son, Cobus has hung up his rifle after 20 years with his father and is now spearheading the growth and expansion of Qorokwe. And to cater to different opinions (those of hunters and of photographic / eco- / non-consumptive tourists) – father and son are not mixing businesses, and so Johan is focusing on where it all started for him – the hunting aspect.

 

What Johan is most excited about is that of the community upliftment in his Mababe Depression area. Few people even knew of the area he hunts, let alone realized its potential. Sometimes a person has a vision of what could be, and only afterwards others see in hindsight it all come together. This was Johan’s talent. And this year, this Calitz Safaris hit the Holy Grail of elephant hunting, not once, but twice. However, we saw the challenges faced announcing such achievements.

It is a pity that we cannot explain exactly what this means for fear of repercussions, such is the sensitivity around this matter. Rival photographic companies in Botswana do their best to malign and publicly crucify this gent. They use expressions like “iconic elephant being hunted” yet both tusks of these animals were broken despite their weight! And it was in an area no tourists go. Furthermore, a photo tourist in the back of a Land Cruiser would not even know what is or isn’t “iconic”; they expect to see beautiful, long well-matched tusks. These tourists cannot estimate the weight of an elephant tusk, especially when broken. Come to think of it, many professional hunters struggle to judge accurately. The majority of people are unaware that elephants will die of starvation after their sixth set of molars have worn down.  And in a land of more than 150 000 elephants and with rural communities on the starvation line – it is a complicated situation.

 

However, the photographic wonderland of the Delta is still there intact! We saw it all. The Mababe Depression, along with the positive benefit of a tectonic shift a few years ago, is now an absolute Eden, with water where little to no water 

had flowed till then. Horizon-to-horizon waterfowl; buffalo and elephant by the thousand, literally everywhere. We passed one herd of around 800 buffalo – it spanned about a solid kilometer. Lion, elephant, eland – and the eland are enormous there. It was simply an absolute abundance of everything.

Deeply spiritual, and a humble man is Johan. Whether it has been the sixty-plus years of life and what that’s thrown at him – nearly being crushed to death by a buffalo; seeing his business go from being the greatest on the continent for African elephant, only to have some laws passed to force a change, either way, his slightly stiff, somewhat beat-up body – courtesy of that buffalo – is his reminder of how fortunate he is to be alive to appreciate each day. Having supported the community for so long, it is obvious everyone loves him. He is employing second-generation staff, transporting stranded pedestrians like one old lady who needed to get to Maun… you get a sense of what this man believes in.

 

His photos do the talking. His record and experience speak volumes. The results, while no guarantee of what could happen when you book with him, certainly give one a sense of extreme comfort. They set this man and his operation completely in a league of its own.

 

To use a cliché – for me, it truly was a once in a lifetime experience.

Calitz Safaris is an African Dawn member, and you can contact Johan directly johan@calitzsafari.com

 

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