Ingwavuma Buffalo

The last couple of weekends have brought us very close encounters with two of Africa’s biggest animals.

A number of the local safari parks run animal projects. Sometimes these focus on the observation or reintroduction of an endangered species. For example, Tembe Elephant Park has just released a number of African Wild Dogs into their park. These have been eradicated from most of the parks in SA. And hence conservationists are trying to intervene. Success will depend on their ability to coexist with the lions in the park. This will require them to learn, very quickly, to stay clear of the king.*

Another local park is looking after two injured elephants – one male and one female. Both elephants narrowly escaped a culling programme in Zimbabwe. Their rescue as youngsters familiarised them with humans. They now live a nearly wild existence. They roam free with other seven tonne wonders happily grazing, sleeping, fighting and mating. But, each morning they come to a specific location in anticipation of some treats. Last weekend, we were able to go to the park and feed them.

On arrival, we were greeted by the sight of the two elephants waiting for food. And they had a surprise for us. For between them was a new addition. A nine month old baby. Their baby.

So began an hour of elephant indulgence. Holding food in our hands we watched as two of the elephants used superb trunk control to transfer large quantities of oats to their mouths. After a while of this, the elephants were commanded to stick out their tongues. Being very obedient, they did as asked. And so we put hundreds more pellets straight into their mouths. Jubulani, the calf, was less adept at using his trunk or at showing his tongue. He spilled much and consumed little. But fortunately he has a much smaller belly. And he still receives gallons of milk from mum. So his messy eating will not hinder his growth.

Almost exactly on the hour mark, having been given water, the elephants disappeared back into the bush.

This weekend we headed to a very secluded part of the coast for a weekend at a place called Thonga Lodge (only look it up if you want to feel extremely depressed). Used to trying to stay at places far out of our budget, Mosvold Doctors have become great hustlers. And so we were able to spend a night in luxury. Situated by a pristine beach, the Lodge is 100 metres from the ridiculously warm Indian Ocean (only truly appreciated if you began swimming on holidays in North Wales). A couple of miles away lies the biggest freshwater lake – Lake Sibiya in Southern Africa. Full of hippos, crocs and birdlife.

On Saturday evening, we drove to the shores of LS to enjoy sundowners (drinks consumed when watching the sun go down; isn’t South African English complicated.) Driving around, our guide looked for the perfect location. This took time. First we had to stop to watch an immature Fish Eagle eating the remains of its supper. Eventually we found a spot 15 metres from the water edge. The perfect location to watch hippos playing in the water.

There we sat enjoying the sunset. And the scene must have looked idyllic. For after not very long, we heard splashing in the water. And out came a hippo, keen to mow the grass in front of us.

Now ten metres from a hippo is less than the recommended safety distance. For, as everyone knows, the hippo is the mammal that kills most humans in Africa each year. And for this reason we were right to feel scared. But we were not in great danger. Firstly our vehicle was close-by to us. Secondly, we were not between the hippo and the water – an extremely dangerous predicament. Lastly, the hippo was completely oblivious to us. For though they have excellent hearing and smell, they can see less well than Mary (who, without contacts, struggles to see me lying beside her in bed; she, too, relies on hearing and smell).

For two or three minutes our hippo merrily chomped the grass. And then suddenly it heard a noise. In blind terror of meeting an animal larger than itself (something that can’t happen often for hippos) it turned and bounded into the water. Leaving all of us very touched by its great sensitivity.

Having previously walked with rhinos and lion cubs, we now have one last close encounter to engineer. The buffalo. But neither of us is overly keen. We think we might settle instead for the dopey Ingwavuman cow. We’ve passed them many times. And on a cloudy day they look vaguely buffaloesque. Time to fabricate a photo.