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.)