Namibia chapter nineteen
On the trail of desert-adapted giraffe and elephants.
It’s my birthday. Bons and I will be spending the morning tracking desert-adapted elephants. Last night’s sighting will hopefully be but a preview of what we’ll see today, but there are no guarantees.
I try to spend my birthday exploring an experience unique to me. In New York, I'd seek out smaller museums, exhibits, or parks I might not have visisted. Since nomading, I'd tried to time gorilla tracking to my birthday, but missed it by a few days. I'd never tracked desert elephants before, never seen a herd.
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We set out after breakfast, the day still young. Bons drives along riverbeds, pointing out tracks and teaching me how to judge their recency, paying attention to how the tracks layer, the sharpness of their imprint, whether leaves or twigs have been blown or fallen over them.
We spot baboons in the distance as we follow the elephant tracks, criss crossing the river, headed east. We pass a tower of giraffes by the side of the road and stop to watch them for a bit before moving on. Further on, Bons steps out of the car to inspect some fresh tracks in the earth and I see a giraffe in the distance, silhouetted on the slope of a hill.
A little further along we come across our first bull, and then another feeding on the trees. Bons points out the smaller tusks and tells me it’s because of the lack of minerals in their diet. We approach the elephants and watch them feed. Occasionally they look over at us as they shovel leaves into their mouths, chewing thoughtfully.
I love elephants and could watch them for hours, just going about their business. The bull in front of us continues to feed, slowly making its way as it looks to sample tastier leaves. Bons suggests we continue. There’s a herd that he’s interested in trying to find.
We pull away and head further east from the camp, crossing the D2612. Bons pauses and points towards the horizon. A lone elephant stands silhouetted on the hill.
We drive on and soon find the herd, shepherding a three-to-four month-old baby. Bons tells me there are about 10,000 elephants in Namibia; in Doro Nawas there are 30.
We follow them as they head west, towards the camp. Bons tells me they’re headed towards our watering hole, and that we’ll probably see them when we sit down to lunch. We drive back to the D2612 to wait for them to cross. I tell Bons that if anyone happens to drive by now they’ll be in for a treat and as if on cue a couple headed south stops behind us. They’re treated to a show.
The herd continues west. A group of vehicles have joined us, forming a herd of our own. As lunchtime approaches we peel away, leaving the elephants on their own.
Back at the camp, I freshen up before lunch and seat myself outside on the terrace overlooking the plains. In the distance I can see the herd approach, making their way towards a watering hole below. A flock of ostrich wait patiently nearby.
I spend the afternoon on the terrace looking out over the desert. At 17h Bons returns for our afternoon drive. We pass a group of people working on a water pipe. He tells me that the elephants are smart; they can find where the pipes are underground and dig them up so that they can drink fresh water directly from them, causing headaches for the groundskeepers. It’s a constant struggle.
Bons chats with his teammates for a while before we drive off in search of the herd.
It’s a beautiful afternoon, warm light spills across the earth. A tiny antelope watches us pass from the shade of a tree. A lone giraffe wanders across the plain. It practically disappears as it passes before a nearby hill, its markings blending in with the landscape.
Bons drives along the plains and then climbs up one of the hills for the view. The uneven path knocks us back and forth as he pushes us on. Near the summit he stops and we alight. A strong wind has picked up and the late afternoon has turned cold. Bons puts on a jacket and we walk the rest of way.
He tells me he likes to bring guests here. If it were less windy we could do a sundowner here. On the plains a group of springbok chase each other sending dustclouds into the air. He breaks off a branch of a camphor tree and has me smell its fragrance. The sun sets slowly, an orange orb hovering over the horizon.
Bons leads me back to the vehicle and we drive across the plain. He stops near where we saw the springbok and pulls drinks out of the boot and pours me a gin and tonic. He pours a soda for himself and we cheers each other and drink as the day draws to a close.
Driving back to the camp we pass the small herd of springbok dotting the hillside. I would have missed them but for the movement against the rocks.
During dinner Duncan FaceTimes me. I find a quiet corner by the fire and we catch up with each other’s lives from opposite sides of the world.
Back at the table I chat with Bons. He asks me what my next stop is. Tomorrow, I’ll be driving to Epupa Falls. He’s done the drive and I ask him how the roads are. Good, he tells me. He makes porpoise motions with his hand. I’m not sure if he means the road is bumpy or hilly. I’ll discover that he means hills and gullys as I’ll find myself climbing hills, unable to see what lies beyond until I reach the summit, and then I’ll have to be careful not to bottom the car out when I reach the gullies.
After dinner the staff wheel out a cake and sing happy birthday to me. All of the other guests have already retired for the evening and so I share the cake with the staff, cutting slices and handing them out one by one.
I’m told my bed has been wheeled outside. Bons tells me if I’m cold I can always wheel it back in, but there’s no chance of that. A bush baby has been left between the sheets and I snuggle up next to it for warmth. I stare up at the sky to look for shooting stars. I catch one just before closing my eyes. Two wishes in one night. 🇳🇦
4 June 2024
