Canoeing the Zambezi

January 1-2, 2003

At 8:00 in the morning on the first day of the new year, we assembled at the edge of Gwabi camp in Zambia, along the Kafue River.  Five twelve-foot blue and white canoes loaded with gear for a two-day canoe trip down the Zambezi lay before us.  Our guide, Edwol, lectured us on the bare essentials: what causes canoes to capsize, what makes the hippos who live on the Zambezi behave erratically and dangerously, the importance of keeping our canoes in a straight line, and paddling fast (if necessary).

We eased into our canoe, Zach in the back to steer and me in the front as the so-called motor.  There was much trepidation on my part as to how my wimpy arms were going to propel us down the river.  After about five minutes of paddling, my biceps burned and trepidation turned into grave fear.  I believe "I'm going to die" were my exact words to Zach.  But somehow I established a paddling rhythm that amazingly sustained me for the six-hour days in the canoe.

How glorious it was to make our way down the river with uninterrupted panoramic views of sensational flora, fauna, and small creatures (mostly birds).  And the sounds of it all!  Only our paddles smacking the river and swirling it around, the drip-drip-dripping of water falling off the airborne paddle back into the

The hypnotic sounds of the smacking, dripping, and tapping were pointillistically interrupted by hippo calls which are even more conspicuous and comical than the looks of these awesome creatures.  Imagine an artful combination of whoopy cushion, novice trombonist, and your grandfather snoring and you might come close.  In any case, the snorts and grunts were a wonderful, if incongruous, complement to the tranquility of the river.

river a variety of bird songs, and laughter prompted by misguided canoes and the party of bathers we surprised as we came around a bend.  Then there was the tap-tap-tap of Edwol's paddle against his canoe.  I quickly realized that he was communicating with the hippos this way.  They would pop up to the surface to see what the noise was about, thus revealing their exact location in the river.  It was an ongoing "we know where your are, here's where we are, let's just leave each other alone" tete-a-tete.

Better yet was the herd of 80 elephants that we happened to literally drift upon during the second day of our journey.  They were bathing, feeding, playing, resting, courting, jousting, rubbing, scratching, and grunting.  At about thirty feet away, it just doesn't get much better than that!

 

By the end of our Zambezi adventure, I was suffering from a severely sunburnt lower lip (note to all: DO NOT FORGET SPF ON THE LIPS!) and Zach had a badly inflamed right wrist from all the steering and rowing (no doubt the "motor" needed extra help at times. . . my hero).  A small price to pay for such an awesome experience, I say.

 

--A

South Luangwa Game Drives

January 6, 2003

The road to South Luangwa is legendary amongst the overland companies.  At times it can take almost six hours to drive 160 kilometers from the highway to the main gate.  Between the gravel, potholes, washouts and huge, slow lorries we were lucky Drifters insists on driving here.  The park is a real gem.

Our campsite is in the wilderness area just across the Luangwa River from the park.  Being in wilderness we have to be careful, especially at night, since any of the wild animals can come wandering through.  In fact, at dinner after our arrival a huge bull elephant wandered through camp, trumpeting loudly when it was disturbed by a Land Rover.

Early the next morning we are up for our first game drive.  Peter, our guide, and Martin ride up front while the rest of us (less Jacques) sit on exposed benches bolted across the back of the Land Cruiser.  Soon after passing the armed guards at the gate we are in the heart of game country.  Our first sightings include the ever present zebra and waterbok and we are lucky enough to see two elusive bushbok along the side of the road.

On the Baobab Loop, soon after passing the namesake tree, we are surround by giants.  A dozen reticulated giraffes are browsing in the acacias alongside the road.  Looking at these silent creatures it is hard to see how they can survive, or how they evolved.  Long, gangly legs, a tail that has a weighted ball and scraggly hair at the end, their famous neck and a blue tongue long enough to clean the eyes and nose.  But to sit and watch a herd of them eating, walking and socializing, one is awed by their slow grace.  They do nothing fast, but because of their huge size even a slow walk moves them very quickly.

After a peaceful while we move on in search of more game.  And we are in luck, a pride of lionesses and some young lazing in the shade of some trees.  The oldest of the lot is blind in one eye.  While we are watching the youngsters frolic, one of the lionesses seems to lose patience, opening her mouth wide to show her displeasure (talk about huge teeth).  She then gets up and walks across the road, disturbing a terrified warthog which bolts from its hide.  After a half-hearted chase the lioness walked around our truck, passing 5 feet away from our benches.  Lean and powerful, Peter reassures us we are safe so long as we remain seated.  Shortly after another truck joins us we head off, feeling a little crowded.

There are a few things about elephants that are key to remember when in the bush.  Though gigantic, they move silently when they want.  They eat hundreds of pounds of food each day, sometimes ripping whole trees down.  Elephants are very social and protective of each other.  And, there are a few signs of when they are more touchy then usual, first they have glands that drip (for bulls they produce must when they are looking to mate) and if their ears go straight back and the elephant is looking at you, you have a very large problem.

And there is a female elephant dripping from her temples.  In fact, a whole herd of females is dripping.  Fortunately, they are feeding quietly, so we park and watch them.  Elephants eating can be an awesome sight, using their trunks like a combination grappling claw/wrecking ball, picking up huge bales of grass or ripping off whole tree branches.  All of which get precisely placed into their enormous mouths.  While chewing, pounds of food just drop to the ground, quickly forgotten.  No wonder they eat so much, half of what they put in their mouths never gets to their stomachs.

While we are watching the reason for their stress becomes apparent at the feet of the matriarch.  A 4-day old calf, so short she can only suckle when her mother kneels.  So young, but running amongst her sisters, playful and energetic.

So, how do we top one baby elephant?  A pair of male lions, of course.  And not just a pair of lions lazing about, but two brothers, wrestling and rolling over each other.  Full manes, full stomachs and happy faces.

 

Ending the day after the sunset we drive back to camp, slowing once to allow a very large butt belonging to a hippo to get out of the way.

 

--Z

Photographs and Text:  Copyright 2002 & 2003, Zachary Maler & Amy Leffert