Ndutu in the green...

It's been very wet, with trucks getting stuck and the gulleys full of water. But the sun has been blazing for the last 5 days, a strong easterly wind has been blowing and the plains are drying fast.  There is a haze of dust in the air, the sky bleached to the palest blue. Long lines of wildebeest are trudging across the plain, heading west in search of water. But it won't be long now before the rains break, the grass greens up again and the plains will be dotted once more with animals as far as the eye can see.

We're in the woodland, photographing a Woodland Kingfisher, gorgeous in aquamarine and black and a long red bill. In the crotch of an umbrella acacia, a smear of russet. In my binoculars, the image resolves itself - a leopard sprawled on a branch, paws dangling languidly. It is a large male, but shy. As we try to approach, he fixes pale green eyes on us and then comes down from his perch in one fluid motion. 

In a gulley lie three lionesses, flat on their backs, paws in the air, utterly oblivious to us a few metres away.  A herd of wildebeest and zebra approaches, feeding in the dense grass along the valley bottom. The lions aren't hungry - sleek bellies show they've fed recently - but one of them gets into position, a perfect ambush. One by one the zebra move past at a safe distance, unaware of the danger lurking nearby. A wildebeest wanders closer, head down and munching. There is a bush obscuring his vision and the lioness uses the chance to move, closing the gap to about 12 metres. She crouches, then charges forward, a tawny blur. The wildebeest swings around and runs - straight at her. This isn't in the script and she turns tail and flees. The moment is gone, her chance blown. She wanders back to her friends and settles down once more to sleep

Out on the plains, the cheetah are doing well. We find 2 mothers, one with 5 tiny cubs, less than 2 months old, the other with 3 well-grown youngsters in tow.

These young cats are very playful and are intrigued by the car. They try chewing on various bits of it, then one jumps up on the bonnet and peers at us, amber eyed, through the windscreen.

We watch a fascinating interaction when another cheetah moves purposefully towards them. Is he interested in the mother, or possibly a threat to the cubs? It turns out to be a young male, maybe a litter mate that got separated from them, or possibly one recently  turned out by his mother and is feeling confused and lonely. There are some tense moments when they all meet, with growling and flattened ears, but no violence, and eventually the family continues with the hunt, leaving the newcomer alone once more.

It's our last morning. We make our way slowly along shore of lake Ndutu. There are hundreds of baby wildebeest carcasses on the waterline - a herd has crossed the lake, and the babies, some no more than a week or 2 old, became exhausted struggling in the mud. A disreputable looking marabou stork  picks at a carcass in a bored way.

At the end of the lake, a crossing! But not your standard crossing, with hundreds of wildebeest flailing through the mud - instead, a family of banded mongoose runs to the water's edge. They are nervous, some of them standing up on their hind legs to scout for danger. Eventually, one trots into the water and they all follow, bounding through the shallows like tiny otters. Is this the first recorded mongoose crossing?

Ngorongoro Crater and Serengeti

Ngorongoro Crater, a cold, cloudy morning. A male ostrich displays to his consort, an elegant, balletic performance.  She indicates her approval, and they mate.

A lioness lies by the road, hidden from a nearby wildebeest herd by the slope of a drainage ditch.  She focuses on 3 animals that are drifting closer to her as they feed.

Their path changes subtly; decision time. If she waits, they may walk out of range, but if she charges, she risks missing them as they are still a good distance away.  In the end, hunger drives her to make the attempt, and the startled gnus run panic-stricken from her.

Her presence is now known to all, so she decides to move on, try pastures new.  She walks surprisingly fast.  It is warm, approaching mid-day, an indication of how hungry she is.  She spots a lone zebra out in the plain - single animals are easier to approach than herds, which have the benefit of lots of eyes all looking out for threats; alone, the zebra must rely on its own senses to survive. 

She starts her stalk along a small gulley.  The zebra, unaware of the danger, moves onto more open ground.  Suddenly he spots her approach and stares at her, snorting. She realises the game is up and moves off once more.

From a small rise, she spots a line of wildebeest on the move.  She moves fast to intercept them, getting into position in a grassy thicket close to their line of march.  The herd keeps coming – it seems that they must walk right over her.  There is a sudden tawny blur, wildebeest scattering in all directions.  When the dust settles, she is left standing there.  She has missed again.  Frustrated, she lies down in the grass and begins to groom.  It’s not as easy as it looks being King (Queen?) of the Jungle.

Kogakuria Kopje, north Serengeti.  A dead spider lying on the path.  A wasp, shiny blue-black, emerges from a small hole, looks at the spider then continues excavating once more, showering earth particles backwards, like a dog digging.  After a few minutes of energetic excavation, the wasp returns and drags the spider into the hole, which looks far too small.  Somehow the wasp manages.

The spider isn’t dead at all.  The wasp has paralysed it’s prey with a carefully placed sting; it will now lay a single egg on the spider – the grub will be provisioned with plenty of fresh food when it hatches, a neat solution to the problem of food storage.  Not a great outcome for the spider though…

 Mara River.  Thousands of wildebeest are pouring across the river, a great honking, bleating, mooing horde, driven by some ancient urge, the-grass-grows-greener...

Some young animals, having already crossed once, decide to cross back again.  It's the wrong move for one unfortunate - a large, scaly head slices through the water, easily overtaking him.  There is a brief swirl and the water closes over his head.
Video - Mara crossing

On the side of a road,  a magnificent Martial Eagle, feeding on an Egyptian Goose.  He has plucked his prey and eaten most of it - there's not much left but the webbed pink feet.  The eagle pants hard, from the heat and overeating.

Midday, north Serengeti.  It’s hot.  In a thick tangle of branches atop a nearby rock, we can just make out a patch of patterned fur, a resting leopard.  We wait. There is a rustle in the bush and a lithe shape emerges onto the rock nearby, followed by another.  With a mix of flirtatiousness and much snarling and apparent ill will, they mate in the typically perfunctory manner of large cats.
Video - Leopards mating

Within minutes, they mate again – and then again.  But the level of hostility doesn’t abate one jot.

  

Kogakuria, early morning.  We heard lions roaring as we set off, so we are trying to track them down.  We try one set of rocks, where we estimate the sound came from but no joy. Then Jairo spots them, distant specks.  They appear to be on the move.  Hunting?  But all have full bellies.  There is a fresh kill nearby and one small lioness has blood on her neck.

One by one, the ladies move off, until we are left with two adult males and the small lioness.  Suddenly, mayhem – the males attack the female, who defends herself ferociously, lashing out at them.  They circle her, looking of ran opening, as she crouches, ears laid back against her skull, snarling and spitting.  They move in again and she launches herself at them, a blur of whirling claws and teeth.

The males roar at the morning sky, then move off, leaving her to lick her wounds.
Video - Lion fight

Firesticks - the movie

Here is a link to my vimeo account where I hope to post clips on a regular basis. This was shot at Kakesio, on the escarpment overlooking Lake Eyasi.

What to do when you have left the matches behind....

Click on the title of this post and it should take you there!

The moon in June and other safari moments

Photos by Tynan Daniels

Gaunt granite outcrops amongst the grey-tawny bush near the shores of Lake Eyasi.  Every bush and tree here, it seems, has thorns that reach out and cling at your skin and clothing.

We are visiting a small band of Hadzabe, the Bushmen of Tanzania.  Only a few hundred remain, living their traditional hunter-gatherer lifestyle.  In common with aboriginal peoples on other continents, they are increasingly marginalised. Once, they roamed freely over this whole vast landscape, but these days they are restricted to a relatively small area, as land-hungry immigrants from other tribes move into what appears to them to be unutilised land.

We catch up with the hunting group at their small encampment in the hills, a collection of small grass huts.  ‘Huts’ is putting it a bit strongly, as these are very basic shelters, easily assembled from local materials: grass, a few branches and twine made from bark.  This makes perfect sense for a nomadic people who need to be light on their feet, able to pack up and go quickly in response to changing ecological factors such as trees coming into fruit at a distant location.

The men are busy making new arrows, checking the straightness with the utmost care and shaving off small sections where necessary.  They are sitting on skins of Lesser Kudu, a beautiful spiral-horned antelope found in these parts.  The women are nearby, cooking and playing with healthy looking children.

Later, we set out on a hunt with the men.  It is rare nowadays for Hadzabe hunters to find big game – the pressure on the land is too great with all the newcomers.  In any case, having a bunch of flat-footed wazungu (whiteys) trying to keep up, would cramp their style.  Not to worry - I am fairly certain that they would forget all about us, in the excitement, if a decent-sized animal were spotted and they would tear off, leaving us floundering.  Quite right too.

They move through the bush, quiet but intent.  When a hyrax is spotted there is a flurry of activity and the scrawny hunting dogs scramble under the boulders, trying to flush the prey.  One man cocks an arrow and takes careful aim.  The unfortunate hyrax is hauled unceremoniously from his hiding place.

***

It is a few days later and we are in Serengeti.  By the road, lions have killed a buffalo.  They are pretty full but every so often one wanders over to the carcass – maybe just a little bit more, maybe a tiny space still left to be filled.  In the melee, we can make out five small cubs, maybe 2-3 months old.

***

The Western corridor is alive with the honking of wildebeest, like a chorus of demented bullfrogs. Hidden in dense bush by the Grumeti River, we watch as they make their nervous way down to water.  There is tension in the air: as animals of the open plains, they are fully aware of the dangers inherent in the prosaic act of drinking: large predators lie in ambush and the placid water might erupt at any moment, as a crocodile attempts to catch breakfast.  The Grumeti crocs are particularly large and probably only get to have a decent meal when the migration comes through for these few short weeks once a year. The rest of the time, pickings may be skimpy.

Today, fear wins out over thirst: something spooks the herd and they whirl away, out of the forest and onto the plains once more.

***

A herd of ellies finds a lovely muddy pool. An ecstatic youngster churns up the mud for better wallowing.  The babies lie flat, kicking their legs up in the air, while the adults, more sedate, squirt mud behind ears and under bellies.  A good mud bath is a wonderful way of cooling off, as well as for removing pesky parasites.

***

Later on, we sip our wine as the sun sinks to the horizon in a blaze of red and gold (all that smoke from the Park Managements early burning program has got to be good for something!).  It’s time to head back to camp.  A lioness… she wasn’t there a moment ago.  There is probably a whole mob of them in the tangled thicket of sickle bush from which she has emerged.  After a few minutes, we leave her scanning the plain, looking for dinner while we head back for ours.

•••

After a long flight, we are on the shores of Lake Tanganyika.  We know it’s a lake, but it feels oceanic: the mountains of the Congo side, 25 miles away, are shrouded in dry season haze and the water merges with sky at the washed-out horizon.  We head out for a walk in the forest – there are Red-tailed Monkeys in the trees overhead, but they are difficult to spot.  Moving stealthily and peering up for a glimpse, we are probably behaving just like a party of hunting chimps and they whirl away with bird-like chirrups of alarm.

•••

June is often tough for chimp tracking.  Many of the fruiting trees they favour are way up high and it is hard work for Homo sapiens, particularly an unfit specimen such as myself, to get to.  Today the news is good: last night, they nested low down and the trackers have set off to locate them early to give us the best chance of catching up with them.  We head south by boat to the trailhead and start into the forest.  Here the guides stop us: the chimps are on the move and they want to be sure of their direction before deciding which trail to take.  The trackers radio down: they’re off toward the river.  The trail hasn’t been cleared yet, as it’s still early in the season, so the guides have to hack a way through with their pangas (machetes).  Soon, there is no trail at all: we branch off along the river, and have to cross several times, teetering mid-stream on precarious boulders.  If the chimps cross before we get there, they will disappear up the densely forested mountain slope, where we have little hope of following.  All of a sudden, there they are: 2 males, Darwin and Carter, grooming each other in the classic Mahale Handshake style, clasping each others hands overhead while they search for parasites and flakes of skin.

More appear from the forest, making their way to the water’s edge to drink, before crossing, taking care not to get their feet wet.  This they achieve much more elegantly than our party of their closest cousins.

It is a perfect situation for photography, which is ironic, as my camera has chosen this moment to go on strike…

Six of them settle down to a group grooming session, crowded around the thuggish alpha male, Pimu.  One female, Omo, has a small infant cradled on her lap.  He is only 6 months old, and has a pink, wizened old man’s face.  We are totally rapt.  All of a sudden, a single chimp pant-hoots from above.  The group immediately leap to their feet, replying in wild crescendo, ending with a series of high screams.  Then they disappear into the wall of forest.  It is perfect – the curtain has come down on the scene and we, the privileged audience, walk slowly back down the hill.

Next day, we don’t find them at all.  The trackers only hear a single distant call – how incredibly lucky we have been.

***

It’s our last night.  Everyone has gone to bed, Steve, Kiri and I are sitting around the camp fire before heading off to bed.  I glance over my shoulder – why has the moon gone red?  Wow, IT’S AN ECLIPSE!  I race off to rouse my guests and we stand and watch in awe.  It is a relatively rare event as this time as the moon passes right through the centre of the earth’s shadow, so it is a total eclipse – the moon gets very dark.

The fates are clearly smiling on us…

A Hadza lady in her boma

Silale Swamp, Tarangire and the Northern Serengeti

Silale has been providing great elephant viewing of late. It's gorgeous - a vivid, emerald swathe in the monochrome world of the dry, sepia season. In the heat of the midday sun, herds of elephant head to the water to drink and cool off. If you time it right, you can get amazingly close views.

We managed it perfectly a couple of weeks ago, waiting patiently as a herd moved down. They stopped, indecisive when they saw us but then moved on, reassured - a swirl of huge, grey bodies around the car, almost touching us, enfolding our small group in their herd. A cathedral moment for all of us.

Yesterday, we were in the same situation but with a totally different outcome. As soon as the herd spotted us, the elephants milled around in agitation, heads and tails up and ears held out. The matriarch ran at us for a few paces, shook her great head and trumpeted her displeasure. Obviously, this herd has had bad experiences with people and cars. What a terrific display though!

Lots of action on the Mara River in the northern Serengeti as well, with many crossings going both ways. (Why some pundits still think of the Migration as a geographically precise, circular motion, only crossing into Kenya between Aug and Sept and crossing back in October and November, I do not know).

We watched with sick fascination as a large croc cruised up to the swimming animals, nuzzled a couple speculatively before grabbing one. It held tight for 20 minutes or so, until the struggling stopped.....and then just opened its fearsome jaws and let it go. The carcass drifted slowly down with the current - what a waste! I imagine the croc was full after weeks of fresh wildebeest served up on a watery platter at each crossing but could not resist the sight of all that easy meat. Someone will have reaped the benefits of this windfall further downstream.

Controversy over the new road across the Serengeti

By Jules Knocker


Economic livelihood or conservation - which should win out or can both co-exist in relative harmony? Right now, the impassioned debate is focussed around a new, proposed road that crosses the north of the Serengeti National Park and which has received the go-ahead from the government, despite strong protests from environmentalists and reported opposition from TANAPA.

First, what is at stake?

The initial moves to establishing a quick commercial connection between Arusha and Lake Victoria were included in the election manifesto but the issue only really came to public notice two or three years ago. The plan is a road which will run from Mto wa Mbu, via Lake Natron, up to Wasso and west to Klein’s Gate on the park border. From there, it will cross the narrowest part of the Serengeti to Tabora B Gate and onto Mugumu and the Lake region.

The road would increase trade and services to an area of North Tanzania that has seen minimal benefits from the general development and infrastructure improvements happening in other parts of the country. It will provide a quick link between Lake Victoria and Arusha, enabling both regions to benefit. The road would bring improved access to hospitals and schools; enable small business to set up, and already established ones to flourish, by reducing the cost of operating and transporting goods; offer employment opportunities where there were few before. It will, no doubt, eventually bring the advantages of the national grid and access to reliable and cheap internet down the line. The quality of the daily life of many of the inhabitants of the region would improve. Regions of Tanzania that have been somewhat isolated, in one way or another, from the more prosperous eastern side of the country will be more accessible. The appeal of the project is clear, especially in an election year.

The current access to the Lake is a murram road, caught in a continual degrading cycle of erosion and repair, that goes between Karatu, around the Ngorongoro Crater rim, down to Naabi at the boundary of the Serengeti, Seronera, Ikoma and off to the Lake. The route is longer, crosses two major wildlife sanctuaries and is more expensive for the transit traveller than the proposed route.

On the conservation side, either road is a devastating and nett loss to the ecosystems and the effective husbanding of world- renowned natural resources. I suspect the extent of the impact of the new road is not easily predictable in advance and many of the changes or losses may not become apparent for several years, when the damage is done and it is too late to reverse. Let us not also forget the threat to tourism revenues, which play such a crucial role in government income and the health of the economy as a whole. A degrading of the tourism experience will lead to a drop in visitor numbers, as they look for other still-pristine environments.

On the current road, tourists, game, rickety buses and overloaded trucks fight it out along the dusty, bumpy length to the detriment of all. Accidents are quite common, as are road kills and the visitors’ experience of driving along such a busy highway is seriously poor. The road is not designed to cope with such heavy traffic and its very existence is anathema to a quality tourism product.

The new route goes through the fragile eco-system of the volcanic plains west of Mtu wa Mbu, the green season pastures of the Tarangire/Manyara migration route and Lake Natron, a crucial nesting place for flamingos and subject of a recent battle over a proposed soda factory by TATA, supported by the government, which was opposed successfully by environmentalists. It then comes up onto the Loliondo plains, currently a Game Controlled Area and hunting block and into the Serengeti. Here, it crosses one of the lesser developed but very rich areas of the National Park: an area which is host to the spectacular draw of the wildebeest migration driving across the Mara River in the dry season and sustains the herds when the rich grass of the southern Serengeti plains have been exhausted with the end of the rains. The lyrical scenery hosts a multitude of wildlife all year round, not least rhino and oribi. It is a quiet and relatively undisturbed paradise, both for animals and for tourists. The new road will put all this at risk.

The concerns are numerous: the increased human development that will come along the length of the road in the areas outside the National Park, which are currently lightly populated, allowing a large number of game to live relatively freely will slowly push out the game; the disturbance to the wildlife patterns which many fear will have a negative impact on wildlife numbers in genreal throughout the eco-systems. (The Tarangire/Manyara/Gelai Migration route is already under serious threat from agricultural development and the restriction of wildlife corridors around the Tarangire and Manyara National Parks). How will the flamingos react at their nesting sites on Lake Natron? Will the Migration be placed under damaging stress and will it reduce their numbers and reduce their ability to find adequate pasture and water that takes them thousands of kilometers each year? The increased pollution; the increasingly easy access for poachers; the degrading of the tourism experience, which will put the current attraction of the Serengeti as a must-see destination under question; the road kills (as everyone appreciates it is unrealistic to either build effective wildlife tunnels or put the road on raised pylons). And perhaps something that is often overlooked – it is unlikely that all transit, commercial traffic will be forcibly diverted to the new road as for some, the trip will be much longer. We will then end up with not one, but two, busy, commercial and destructive highways crossing the Serengeti at different points.

The government has deemed the negative impact on the environment to be outweighed by the economic benefits, but there is a concern that the decision makers have a greater understanding of, and interest in, the commercial sector than they do in the environment. Perhaps they believe that the tourism revenue will continue to flow, regardless of the quality of the experience and the impact of the road. Perhaps they are less interested in the potential knock-on effects of putting several ecosystems at risk as these cannot be clearly quantified in advance. TANAPA have stated that the decision is no longer in their hands. Frankfurt Zoological Society opposes the plan, as does the Africa Wildlife Foundation (follow this link for the AWF position - http://www.awf.org/documents/Serengeti_Road_Position_Statement.pdf). Environmentalists are up in arms and have taken their fight global. Articles have appeared in the New York Times, The Sunday Times, The East African as well as the local papers.

So, people or wildlife? Who gets to make the choice and who gets to live with the consequences?

Or is there another alternative?

For many years, the proposed route for a commercial link to The Lake was very different from the current one.

South.

Skirting Ngorongoro and Maswa Game Reserve to the south of the Serengeti, through Shinyanga and joining up to the lake. It is longer, and therefore more expensive to build, but it does not cross protected areas, it does not put eco-systems at risk, it does not threaten unique wildlife events and it does cross miles and miles of deprived areas where the local populations have long missed out on the benefits given to others. Same economic arguments but just a different group of people and greater numbers of people that would benefit. They are in the same situation as those in the north but perhaps they have even fewer opportunities available to them. At least there are noticeable rewards to be had from tourism already operating in the northern Serengeti and Natron area for some of the local residents. Looks like a win-win situation to me.

Why has this alternative been ignored? Why are the voices so insistent on a compromised and compromising plan that puts much at risk?