Western Tanzania

We had a very weird spell of weather in October and early November – tremendous rains, unusually early and heavy.  It was very patchy, so while everything at home was green and flourishing, and there was heavy flooding in parts of Serengeti, large swathes of Maasailand remained brown and parched.

So, November came around and with it a group of old friends from our days in Turkey.  We were headed out west, for a week in Katavi and Mahale.  Katavi will be at it’s best at this time, won’t it?  The long months of hot and dry mean that large numbers of game will be congregated near the few springs, so game viewing will be a cinch.  Except for that early rain (see above).  The whole park was freshly painted in luxuriant greens, the Katuma River was flowing and the air felt vibrant with life. 

Many of the hippos had moved out of the springs at Ikuu, their dry season refuge, and back into the newly formed pools on the Katuma.  The crocs were slowly coming back to life, although many were still more or less somnolent in their riverbank holes.

The downside to all this, of course, was that much of the game, released from the tyranny of the dry season, had scattered to the four winds.

It was gorgeous and we did find just about everything we wanted to see, but we had to work pretty hard to do so!

We found a lovely pride of lion with cubs (the Chada Pride), and followed them for a couple of hours through the bush as they made their way to the river, presumably changing hunting grounds.  They were lean and hungry looking, but with a healthy glow.  We stayed with them for some time, hoping for a hunt (they were clearly ready for action), but nothing came of it.

It was the same story with elephant – when we finally caught up with a herd, we had a long visit with them, following slowly as they fed through the bush.  There was a tiny calf with them, but we only got brief glimpses as Mama kept her close by her side.

It was strange to see so few elephant, but the mystery was solved when some of our group spotted a large herd, several hundred they reckoned, waaaay out on Katisunga Plain.  Too far to go and see them, sadly, but nice to know they’re there.  And always nice to solve the puzzle!

This happens frequently: elephant clans are forced to break up into small family groups during the dry season, because of the lack of resources, but when the rains start and food and water are plentiful, they gather once more into large groups.

Not long after we left, a herd of several hundred was seen just in front of Chada Camp – very likely the same clan.

One of our Chada highlights was this scorpion, found by one of the camp waiters.  Scorpions have this weird undead glow under ultraviolet light – perfect material for nightmares!

All too soon, our time was up and we upped sticks and moved on to Mahale Mountains. 

Again, the recent rain meant that the forest was bursting with new life.  Gorgeous butterflies flitting through the clearings and fresh new leaf everywhere.  The miombo woodland on the mountain slopes was resplendent in shades of copper, crimson and brilliant fresh greens.

We had high expectations of our time with the chimps: as you probably know, the Alpha male of Mahale’s ‘M’ community was killed by his own kind back in July (??).  Pimu was a thug who ruled by brute force and terror, and in the end, his subjects rose up against him.  If only Gaddafi had taken heed of this sorry tale…

Anyway, we were intrigued to find out how the succession struggle was working out.  There are 2 contenders: Alofu, the former alpha, deposed by Pimu; and Primus, a young buck with his eye on the top spot. In the event, we had unexpectedly mellow viewing, consisting of peaceable group grooming sessions and youngsters endlessly at play. Endlessly watchable.

We are still waiting to hear who will take on Pimu’s mantle, but we can expect a great deal of manoeuvring and wheeling & dealing before the dust finally settles on this saga.

Breakfast in Katavi; Nights in Paradise; Days with the Relatives.

Before the sun was too high in the sky, we stopped for breakfast on the banks of the Katuma, in Katavi National Park, with hippo and crocs scattered decoratively along the shoreline. As we munched our bacon & egg sandwiches, a monitor lizard came along on the far side and started to dig in the sand. It took him a while, as he had to keep stopping to scan for danger - hungry eagles on high, angry female crocodiles below and even more perils courtesy of his immagination - but finally, he came up with a whitish crocodile egg in his mouth. He proceeded to manipulate it carefully, puncturing the shell. (Reptile eggs are not hard like a bird's, more a papery consistency). He then gently squeezed out the contents into his mouth so as not to waste a drop of the valuable protein fix, then finished up by swallowing the shell as well for a well-rounded meal. After that had gurgled down, he came back for more........and more.....and more - 6 times in fact!

We estimated that each egg was about the size of 2 to 3 hen's eggs, so he ate the equivalent of about 18 eggs, shells and all... Not a bad meal for a 4-foot reptile weighing about 20 pounds! And we had just one fried egg and a couple of rashers of bacon in our sandwhiches.

That evening we watched a fight between 2 male hippos, a real clash of the titans. The result was never really in doubt, as one animal was clearly bigger and heavier, with longer tusks, but it was nevertheless an awe-inspiring sight. A short way on, we came across a bull that had lost such a fight, with a deep, slashing wound across his rear thigh; the skin and muscle yawning open. Hippo sweat contains an antibiotic - a useful adaptation or wounds like this would often prove fatal.

Early next morning, we set off for Paradise, for a night’s fly camping. Absolutely incredible, the best I have ever had, I think. We had a pod of hippos right by us - honking, splashing, yawning, dozing - and there was game dotted all over the plain, including a herd of buffalo a thousand strong. On our evening walk, we stood stock still as a herd of waterbuck passed by us, oblivious to our presence as long as there was no movement or sound. They finally picked up our scent us as they pass downwind, whipping round to stare at us before taking flight.

My night’s sleep was punctuated, at regular intervals, by the roars of fighting hippo bulls and distant lion. Honestly, who do I sue?

Mahale was amazing, as ever. The chimps were making almost daily visits to camp to gorge on False Waterberry fruits on a tree by the kitchen. Talk about lazy chimping... In the forest, we got to see babies playing, endlessly climbing vines and branches, trying to dislodge each other. I’m King of the… what? Swing? A female with an infant approached one of the big males, grinning and calling in fear and submission. He reached out a lordly hand to reassure her and they settled down to a long grooming session. All around us in the forest, chimps were calling back and forth (I’m here, where are you? OI! STOP BULLYING MY BABY!! Nice figs these – here, try one..).

We had fabulous kayaking on the smooth, crystal-clear lake this morning, in the golden light of dawn, with hippos honking way off. Can it get any better than this? Well, just maybe - but not often.