A Different Safari Experience

Clicking my fingers to get everyone’s attention, I cupped my hand to my ear and pointed in front of us. My finger went to my lips. 

“Can you hear the ox-peckers?” I whispered.

I looked at the group I was with, reading their faces for acknowledgement. Everyone huddled in. 

“That’s important, you need to pay attention?” 

“Ox-peckers could mean one of many things, right? It could be impala, giraffe or it could be something more serious. Maybe buffalo.” 

We paused to listen. An impala snorted. Our tension dissipated. 

Cradling my rifle in my elbow- I asked:

“Where’s the wind coming from? Who’s got the ash bag?” 

We all watched the wind blow a dusting of ash. We were on a game path leading to the river. By now we’d spent time differentiating lion and hyena spoor, found fairly fresh elephant tracks, and had an idea of the direction and speed the elephants had been moving in some thick brush. We’d established that it was too dangerous to try to follow the elephants into the thick bush by the river, but if we could get to the riverbank we might see them coming down to drink. We needed to be quiet, keep our eyes and ears open, and pay attention to the wind. 

“Pay attention to our safe ground. Let’s continue.” 

An elephant rumbled. 

“It’s o.k., that’s a content elephant sound. The wind is good, we’re being quiet, we’re good, but let’s get into position”.

The wind had was steady, and I knew once we got to the edge of the river, we would have big fallen trees as well as the bank to keep concealed and safe. We were already walking slowly, everyone on high alert. We crept around the branches of a fallen Acacia, a small group of elephant bulls stood in the sand, oblivious to our presence. I looked over my shoulder to make sure that everyone was there and then gestured for everyone to move forward and sit. We were close enough that a mistake would definitely spook the beautiful bull. Close enough that I could feel everyone holding their breath.

It was a typical training walk, similar to the ones that I conduct for various companies in Tanzania. But this one was slightly different. It wasn’t guides employed by any one company who were being trained, but a mix of interested individuals from various backgrounds. Sitting around the fire in June, Moli & Noelle from Kichaka and I had decided to run a course based on walking safaris, complete with rifle safety and handling. Covid had robbed us of our tourist seasons and all we wanted to do was be in the bush. We could offer a course that wouldn’t be limited to guides. Tanzania is such a biodiverse rich country and its National Parks are fairly easily accessible, yet high-quality guided experiences are generally inaccessible, not to mention a general lack of nature-based learning opportunities. For some independent guides, opportunities to practice skills and refresh were far and few between, not to mention opportunities for anyone wanting to learn guiding skills.  

Moli and a group of participants (two guides from northern Tanzania) watching a herd of elephants drinking in the river. Photo credit @ Hannah Strand. 

The diversity of backgrounds and interest meant that Moli and I needed to adapt our training. For some, skill proficiency was less important than the all-encompassing wilderness experience. For others, mastering the skills was necessary for their careers. Mornings became intense training sessions that lasted until lunch, then afternoons were spent at a different pace; doing yoga in the sand, game drives ending with sundowners, or fly-fishing in the river. Pretty soon, the murmurings around the campfire in the evening were revolving around how being there was so therapeutic. The big caliber rifles were intimidating, but everyone was succeeding at their own pace, overcoming their own fears and challenges. I had never expected shooting to be so transformative. 

Sunsets in the wilderness. Photo credit @ Hannah Strand. 

Over the second week of the course, our goal wasn’t explicitly to push people out of their comfort zones, but for the bush to become more familiar. If you want to get close to wildlife, if you want to get great photos of animals, if you want to observe cat behaviour, then you need to be in a vehicle. Wildlife will let you drive right up to it in a car, but walking is a different story. As soon as you venture out as the bipedal, apex predator, wildlife behaviour changes. Like us, animals have a fight or flight instinct and keeping safe on a walk means avoiding those situations. It means heightening your senses and gaining a deeper understanding of what is going on around you. Something as simple as being aware of where the wind is coming from becomes significant. 

Crossing one of the Ruaha's tributaries. Photo credit @ Hannah Strand.

As the course drew to an end, it was apparent that it had been a success. We had touched a hunger for a glimpse into the deeper workings of wildlife behaviour and ecology, the opportunity to spend an extended period of time in one place, and learning skills that would further open up an appreciation of the natural world. 

Hannah Strand leading a restorative yoga session on a sandbank.

(At the end of October I successfully organized a similar course in Tarangire. We focused on the naturalist and interpretive side of guiding- birding, tracking, and botany. A couple captioned images of that course here and here. If this experience interests you, we are running an Serengeti special in February.  E-mail me for the itinerary and details.)

A Private Guided Safari in Covid Times

Alone at the picnic site in Ngorongoro Crater. 

As the uncertainty around travel had forced many people to cancel or postpone their safaris, I had nearly rubbed everything off of my safari calendar. “If anyone is going to pull it off, it’s going to be you” said Moli as we sat by a campfire staring at the Milky Way. I kept my fingers crossed. The logistics were getting more and more complicated as the once reliable local airlines began shutting down their operations. We were the only booking on the charts for some of the remote camps, and international flight cancellations and policy changes were making us anxious. Everything needed a plan B and a plan C. Not only were we climbing Kilimanjaro, but we were flying across Tanzania to visit the Mahale Mountains to see chimps. What about covid and the chimps? Was I being irresponsible? With a solid plan in place and the support of every player in the itinerary, I held my breath. The lengthy discussions on mask protocols, hygiene, dining, what-ifs repeated themselves.

One of the incredible views of Kilimanjaro on the Lemosho route. 

The last time I climbed Kilimanjaro was in 2000, my senior year of high school. I loved outdoor pursuits and teachers often took my name off the sign-up lists for mountain trips to give others a chance. Yet, as a guide, I had not been up the iconic mountain. One route I had never done on Kilimanjaro was the west approach across the Shira plateau. Known as the Lemosho route, this is the longer approach. At 8 or 9 days, it offers the highest success rates because it gives you the most acclimatization time. To call it the most scenic would do injustice to the beauty of the whole mountain, but it does offer some magnificent angles. Having a high-success rate doesn’t make it an easier route but under the brilliant leadership of Summits Africa guide we all summited. 

The snow capped peak and dwindling glaciers from Uhuru peak. 

Our next destination was northern Serengeti where we hoped to find some wildebeest but also experience the incredible resident wildlife. Northern Serengeti is fast becoming known for exceptional leopard viewing and we were rewarded by a leopardess with two adult cubs who allowed us to follow her for a few hours one morning. Watch a snippet here. In addition to some of the Serengeti’s best wildlife viewing, it is just a beautiful area and I love it any time of year. I chose to stay at Nomad’s Lamai camp. Nestled into a rocky outcrop known as Wogakuria it looks out on the rolling hills towards the Mara river and onto the Lamai plains on the north. With so few people in camp (us and a film crew), the staff were eager to not only show off their masks and covid protocols but also set up an amazing bush lunch for us. 

 

After a full morning of game viewing we pulled up for lunch in this beautiful setting. A massive herd of wildebeest made its way down towards the river, scattered by a herd of thirty elephant making their way from the river. 

From Serengeti we flew across to the shores of Lake Tanganyika. Lake Tanganyika is a long, deep rift valley lake. In fact, it is the longest lake in the world, and second to only Lake Baikal in depth. It contains almost one sixth of the Earth’s fresh water, but we hadn’t come for the beach. The forests along its shores are home to Tanzania’s population of chimpanzees and Nomad was opening Greystoke for us. The guides had difficulty containing their excitement too. Greystoke has an incredible team of guides who were all part of the chimpanzee research team. They know the chimpanzee the way we know the people in our communities, and they hadn’t seen them in months. In the few months preceding the Covid closing, Primus, the alpha male was being challenged with by a serious rivalry and they were keen to see who had taken over.

Humans and chimps are so close genetically that we were obviously concerned that we were taking a risk,  however, chimp viewing rules in Mahale had for nearly the last decade made people wear masks. Since the masks had been introduced, no chimp (that we know of) had gotten a cold from a human so we were pretty confident that if we took extra precautions with hand washing and hand sanitizing we didn't pose a risk. Most importantly we would also not push the distance recommendations and comply with the guides. As a side note- "social distancing" from chimps is 10 meters (30ft) not 2m, which seems to be the current CDC recommendation. 

Michio, one of the adult males who was a potential contender for alpha male. The guides are happy that it appears that Teddy has taken the reigns. Teddy is a gentle male, and they expect great chimp viewing while he is at the top. 

Rounding off the itinerary we departed Mahale for Ruaha National Park to wrap things up with a walking safari and ultimately a night of fly camping. I have spent enough time in Ruaha that it has not only had a formative influence on my guiding, but has also influenced my perceptions of what a great wilderness is. A sentence with Ruaha in it rarely doesn’t include walking safaris and so we set off for a remote corner that Moli & Noelle have carved out an exclusive operation. Perched atop a bluff overlooking the Ruaha River is the main camp and we arrived in time to settle in and grab a drink by the campfire to watch the sun go down. 

A typical, dry season, Ruaha sunset.