Day 15 & 16 - Okavango Delta

Small Crocodile on the side of the bank as our mokoro went by.

 Mokoro Island - Xaga Island

“Do you hear that noise?”
“No, Barb.  I don’t”
There is a pause.  Then after a longer silence, Barb speaks again.
“Well, do you hear that?”  Her voice is excited, even nervous.  Due to my “greater than a standard deviation hearing loss”,  I still hear nothing unusual.

We are camped on a very small island in a tropical African marsh.  The normal inhabitants of this small piece of earth have left evidence of their presence all around us .  Not 15 steps behind us, the bush and papyrus are compressed where some very large animals like to bed down for the night.  All over our little island (once called by the San people Xaga) are bowling ball, even basketball, sized excrement left by the same very large animals.  Many of the trees in our campsite are scraped by Bull Elephants in order to mark their territory.  Elephants and Hippos live here.  This is their turf.  We are the intruders.

Elephant dung all over our camp site.  It's huge!!!

“Now. Did you hear that?”  I heard a little something that time.  “Maybe it’s Chuck and he’s already asleep”, I tell Barb.  She looks at me as if she is not sure how to deal with her dim-witted husband.  Then she looks worried, as now there is an obvious, loud sound from just outside the tent.  With that sound, even I have to admit that it could be a hippo.  And it’s not the hippo’s deep and slow grunting that can pass for a man snoring that is causing her apprehension.  It’s the crashing-through-the-papyrus-just-outside-the-tent sound that makes her so concerned.  Suddenly I can hear all of the sounds.  Now the elephant’s trumpeting, and the hippo bellows and grunts, and the water and papyrus crashing sounds soon have my blood pressure and pulse completely off the charts.  Fight or flight is supposed to be the danger response.  But flight is not possible when you are on a small island in a large swamp.  Fight is not an option with the huge animals that live here, so I choose Fright as my option. 

We have been assured by our guides that we will be safe in our tents.  Tents are seen as objects, like rocks, by the animals and will be avoided is the story we are told.  It’s not a theory I really want to test.  Nervously, I step outside our tent to check with the guide.  Some might say I was looking for reassurance.  Of course adult males, particularly retired pilots, do not do such things.  However, Brett is a trained naturalist and researcher, and I thought I might graciously give him an opportunity to show off a little.  He is a younger man with much to learn, but does have some knowledge in these areas.  In response to my question about the noises, he affirmed that it was hippos and elephants that we were hearing.  After all, this was their normal habitat and the hippos are nocturnal creatures.  As he stirs our comforting campfire, he states “They won’t come on the island so long as we keep the fire going,”.  I am reassured and now confidently turn back to our tent to tell Barb that all will be okay.  But then Brett continues, “ Of course, once the fire goes out, they’ll probably come onto the island and maybe even through the campsite.”  I think now that it’s going to be a very long night, as I resolve that I will not leave our tent until sunrise, no matter how much I may need to relieve myself. 

Today had been a very long one for us.  It began back at Guma Lodge on the edge of the Okavango delta.  Shortly after breakfast, we loaded our gear onto one large flat bottomed skiff,  and ourselves onto another.  We were seated on bench seats that are not even attached to the floor of our small boat.  The boat is necessarily shallow draft for the marshes, about 10 ft wide by 25 ft long, shiny aluminum, and is powered by a very large Mercury outboard motor.  Although the open water of Guma lagoon seems large, it is not long after leaving the dock that we are entering a large channel bordered mostly by papyrus reeds. Our course seems to be generally south.  We are told that the trip in the boat will take approximately 40 minutes to get to an island known as Mokoro Island.  Mokoro is the name of the dugout canoes that were used by the native inhabitants of this marshland.  And Mokoro Island is where we will stop to change from our simple, modern craft, to the dugout canoes that can still be found in use deep in the marsh.  Descendants of the Bahei(?) people that once lived in these swamps will be our polers (pronounced pol-luhrs).  These people have moved out of the delta and into villages ashore in order to escape the Tsetse fly.

Leon and our 'poler' Masta in the Okavango Delta.

The channel continues to narrow.  Now it is also bordered on one side by occasional cane and trees that indicate the presence of the small islands characteristic of this delta.  At one point, our driver completely stops in the channel, and then turns off the engine.  He sits there for a moment, restarts his motor and turns sharply into a very small channel that is only wide enough for one boat.  He had stopped to listen for the sound of other boats that might be in the channel.  The water that we see is surprisingly clear.  We are told that the reeds are a natural filter for the flowing river water.  This narrow, twisting channel leads us to an inlet on Mokoro Island.  Our supply boat is already beached and partially unloaded.  Our polers are all young black men, their builds varying only slightly.  They are from 5’8” to about 6’.  Most are very slim with lean yet muscular builds.  Our poler, Masta, is one of the shorter ones, but with unusually broad shoulders when compared to his friends.  He speaks very little English, and seems younger than the others.  But later, farther into the marsh, we will see the lead guide Simon referring to Masta for advice.

Leon & Masta in our mokoro with the rest of the group following.

The canoes set out into a channel even narrower than before.  The water is much shallower in most places, and the reeds and water lilies leave very little room for passage.  Oddly though, when compared to the marshes and bayous of my native Louisiana, there is a strong current moving through this clear water.  Soon, we are not even in defined channels or paths.  The boats are being pushed over thick reeds from one clear area to another.  Sometimes, we must retreat and try to find a different path. 

Our polers use these mokoro’s expertly.  Pointed at both ends like a canoe or pirogue, they are generally flat bottomed.  The sides are hard chined, with some inward sloping tumblehome at the very top.  The pole is used as an oar, a tiller and a push pole.  The poler will deliberately tilt the boat left or right just as a kayaker does to aid in the turns.  They sometimes deliberately run the boat up onto some reeds, and as the boat slides off to one side, they will pivot it into a tight turn.  The other advantage of poling is that by standing they can see where the channels might be.  When the chosen channel proves impassable, they can see where they need to go to find a better one.

Our mokoros, dugout canoes used to travel in the Delta's marsh land.

There is suddenly some chatter between our polers.  Simon asks us to be quieter.  It is unclear why he wants silence until we also begin to hear the faint, but not distant, sounds of large animals moving through the marsh.  Soon there is the sound of an elephant’s trumpeting.  It is very close.  We can see the tops of some trees moving.  But our polers, after talking among themselves, begin to lead us away from the sound.  Perhaps it is too dangerous to approach these elephants.  In our ignorance, we are worried that we have missed a chance to see the elephant in the wild - unconstrained by fences - where they are rarely bothered by humans.

This guy is as big as a house!!!

What is soon clear to us is that our guides are circling around this island to approach it from another angle.  The new approach will place us downwind from the elephants, so that they will not be alarmed by our scents.  Dan and Chuck are in the lead boat with Simon.  Barb and I are in boat number two, and Jeff and Meghan are in number three.   There are three other boats following us, but our position in this line of boats will soon prove critical and fortuitous. 

There is an island not a 100 yards distant, with trees and brush.  Between us and that island stands only the constant and thick growth of papyrus which greatly reduces vision when seated in the low boats.  The guides are now homing on the sounds.  The lead two boats come to a break in the reeds.  Suddenly, there is a clear sighting of this massive elephant.  He seems to be impossibly tall, towering over the lower trees that are at least fifteen foot high.  And his movements are not those slow, languid movements of the desert elephant, but quick and powerful in a way that fills me with awe and some fear.  At first, he is oblivious to us.  Our shutterbugs were ready and are firing away.  Dan is the chief shutterbug on our trip, sharing his excitement and expertise with all.  Barb and Chuck are two shutterbug wannabees whose enthusiasm is fun to watch.  All of us are amazed at what we are witnessing.  A wild elephant in his natural element, where we are the intruders.  The bull suddenly seems aware of our presence.  He turns and looks straight across the water and through the reeds to our small craft.  Pausing, he is obviously considering how to deal with us, the intruders into his realm.  For me, it is a incredible moment as this other highly intelligent creature decides if he should bother ridding his home of the human pests.  Fortunately, he decides we are not worth the trouble, then slowly turns, and walks proudly away from us.  It is one of those lifetime moments that Barb and I will remember forever.  Only the lead three boats were able to share this opportunity.  Due to the reeds, the others did not have a clear enough sighting.  But what great good fortune for those few of us who did.

From this island, our polers begin to take us more directly to Xaga (pronounced Aha) Island.  It will be our base for the night.  When we arrive, we unload, make camp in the sweltering heat and humidity, and try to  relax some from our excitement.  Chuck is soon seen walking to the dugout canoes, and pushing one into the water.  This is okay with our polers even though they need these craft to make their living.  My guess is that they believe they will get a good laugh out of watching us try to do those things that they make look easy.  Well, they will be disappointed then by Chuck.  He seems to be a natural at maneuvering these small, clumsy boats.  Just like the polers, he makes it look easy.  Well, if it is that easy, then Leon has to try.  Surprise.  It’s not as easy as it looks.  Although I do manage to keep from falling into the water, I am sure I provided plenty of laughs for our polers.

Leon and Chuck trying to pole a mokoro in the Okavango Delta.

 After our rest, we head back to the canoes for a late afternoon trip.  I am not sure of the purpose.  But the morning’s pattern almost exactly repeats itself.  We pole into narrow and shallow channels around innumerable small islands.  Our polers hear sounds before we do.  They approach from one direction, identify the sounds as hippopotamus, and begin to pole away.  Hippos, although herbivores, can be very dangerous.  The polers circle around to enter from another direction.  This time, it is a pool of open water where the hippos are bathing.  We slip quietly into the border of reeds around the pool.  Our boats are now aligned side by side, allowing everyone to view the pool that has five hippos playing and moving around.  Time passes too quickly and the sun is beginning to get low in the sky.  Even our most ardent shutterbugs are now rationing the megabytes on their flash drives.  Two of the hippos have left the pool, including the big bull, when one of the smaller ones surfaces, faces our boats, and gives that huge, full, impossibly open mouth that they are famous for.  It is the shot that many of our shutterbugs had been hoping for, but only Barb and a few others managed to capture it.  I believe that all of us there - possibly even our polers and guides - captured that feeling of a special moment in our lives.  A moment where we sat quietly in a swamp in southern Africa, watching hippos playing in their pool.

A pod of Hippos. 

Day 16 - Okavango Delta (Xaga Island) & return to Guma Lagoon

The noises of the morning on our little island are different than the night.  The sounds of elephant and hippo are gone.  The sounds of the morning are now primarily the bird sounds that we have heard for the last two mornings in the delta region.  There is a second softer sound that at first is not noticed.  It is difficult to identify.  To me, it seems to be the sound of millions of insects that often infest other marshy areas I have experienced.  Too often, those hordes like to dine on human flesh and blood.  I am quite worried about going outside, and do not want to encounter such a multitude of bloodthirsty creatures.  But other campers are up and about, and no one is cursing the bugs.  I must be wrong.  Once outside the tent, there are no bugs or mosquitoes to be seen.  I will always believe that the sound we heard is the hum of life from the vibrant multitudes found in the swamp.

We are soon re-packed, and poling away.  Our destination is another island for a nature walk.   We are told that after the walk, we will go to the swimming pool.  The pool sounds good to me.  Having listened to the sounds of nature for most of the night, I am not that interested in another “nature walk”.  However, when you travel with a group, you consent to the group activities.  The dugout canoe trip through the swamp is the same as before, dodging bushes and reeds as our polers move us through very small channels. When we get to the destination island, we can all hear the elephants.  The nature walk is cancelled.  When the elephant is there, it’s his territory.  But we land on this island anyway, and move closer to see him.  For all of us, he is now in full view standing in front of a few trees of about 50 ft in height.  He moves slowly around to the back of the trees.  Now out of our sight, I suddenly see the largest of the trees being shaken and moved as if it were a small bush being shaken by a large strong man.  The power of that elephant to move that tree is incredible.  We are told that he could just pull or push it down to the ground if he wished.  Instead he is shaking it for some other purpose.

It was an amazing site to see elephants our on a walk in the bush.

Leon & Dan swimming in the Delta.

Soon after, we are in the canoes heading towards the “swimming pool”.  It turns out to be a small area in the delta, where the water is very clear, the bottom is sand and the trees are shady.  The size and depth are just right for a quick dip in this clear, cool, refreshing pool of water.  Our guides / polers strip to their shorts and jump in.  Soon they are playfully diving and somersaulting into the water.  That quickly develops into somewhat of a contest between them.  One of our party swims to the other side and perches in the limb of a tree.  All of us who will swim and play in this pool enjoy its refreshingly pleasant waters.

The polers having fun at the 'swimming pool'.

The brave ones who decided to cool off in the Delta.

 The rest of this wonderful day is similar to the first one.  We meet the powered skiffs, and return to the lodge for dinner, drinks, and good company.  Tomorrow, we will travel to the town of Maun, before completing the long transit to Chobe National Park, still in Botswana, but just south of the Caprivi Strip.  Two days will be spent at Chobe.

Our trip to the Okavango Delta; our long night on Xaga Island; the intimate sightings of the elephants, hippos, crocodiles and more; are one of the highlights of our trip.  That first encounter with the Bull Elephant in his element is a lifetime event.

Leon & Barb in the Okavango Delta, Botswana.

The following tale was told to us by Simon, our lead Makoro guide.  Standing on an island deep in the Okavango Delta lands, he spoke in his soft, rhythmic, voice.

A Hippo showing that he has no fishes in his belly, or yawning.

In the early days of the world, when the earth and all its creatures were new, the hippopotamus was a land animal and an omnivore that ate anything it could find.  But it was large and hairy and lived in a hot and tropical place.  One day, it found that the pools of water where it went to drink were very cool.  So, the hippos began to spend the days in the waters.  When the creator saw what his hippos were doing, he called them aside to talk to them.  You are a land animal, he said, and you must not live in the waters.  But the chief hippo told the creator that they were very hot on the land and needed to be in the water.  The creator told them that he was the lord of all the creatures and that the hippos would eat the fishes that He had made to live in the waters.  So, the hippos were forced to live only on the land.  They went about the land during the night.  But even in the shade of the trees, they could not stay cool during the day.  The chief of the hippos went to the Creator once again and pleaded to live in the waters to stay cool.  He promised the creator that they would not eat his fishes, but would eat only the plants.  He said that the hippos would all open their mouths very wide so that the lord could see that they had not eaten his fishes.  But the lord replied that his hippo was very large and could hide those fishes in his body.  The chief hippo went away again.  Soon he was back to talk to his Creator.  He told Him that from now on, he and all other hippos would spray their dung on the bushes and trees where the lord could see it.  And if he looked, he would be able to see that all they had eaten were plants and grasses.  The Creator agreed with this.  Thereafter, all of the hippos have been able to stay cool in the water during the day, and they have never since eaten any of the lord’s other creatures.

Happy Feet on Guma Lagoon.