Trapped by African Wildlife

It was a typical morning in Africa with Karen, we had got up early with the sun, been down to check the hippos that Karen was studying and were back at the house by breakfast time. I call her place a 'house', in fact Hippo Haven is more than a house, it is beautiful thatched home on the side of the River Turgwe in Zimbabwe, built and sculpted by herself and her able husband Jean.  There is no glass in any of the windows, just lots of frames of mosquito netting so the house is really cool in the heat of the day and filled with light.

Karen and Jean have a lot of cats, and these are kept inside for most of the time to protect them from the African wildlife.  Domestic cats are high up on the snack stakes and they also do not have much bush sense, being a bit soft around the ears when it comes to surviving in the African wilderness.

So there I was sitting inside with the sun streaming into the sitting room, surrounded by cats and contentedly reading my book. The cats were animated and attentively looking out through the mesh of the front door and playing games with each other, hissing, swiping and cavorting along the window ledges.  Arthur, the very large warthog, had come visiting and was munching through pony nuts outside the back door.  Karen often feeds wildlife that come to visit, and Arthur had a special place in her heart.  He came to the back door and was fed on a regular basis, the back door area was his.  The thing was that only Karen was allowed into Arthur's area, anyone else, including Jean, was charged by him, and that is a pretty scary experience.  A large warthog could break your shins, and Arthur certainly fell into that category!

Living where they do, Karen and Jean have a bathroom in their house - minus a toilet, the actual toilet was still the old long drop from when they had camped in the bush.  They did not want to build a sceptic tank, so the toilet was not part of the house.  And at this point I needed the loo.

I am not too sure how I managed to escape near death, but I am alive and kicking today.  As I opened the front door and headed right towards the long drop, my sixth sense kicked in.  I glanced back over my shoulder to the left, and there, only 2m away from me, was a Mozambique spitting cobra.  It was standing at about chest height, its hood was out and it was not best pleased.  All this information I took in at record speed and my brain engaged into retreat mode.  I must have looked like Scooby Doo, I am sure that I retreated in mid air, whilst doing those circular motions with my legs, and I slammed the door shut, making sure that all the cats were safe inside.

"Karen, there is a large snake outside the front door, and its not too happy", I yelled.

I peered out of the front door and the snake was still there, still looking rather hacked off with life.  The cats were not helping the situation by hissing through the netting and agitating the snake into an even worse mood that is already was in. We struggled to keep the cats away from the windows, the cobra may have been able to spit its venom through the netting, who knows, I was not really ready to find out.

It was then that I realised my dilemma, I need the toilet but I could not go to the long drop out of the front door for fear of meeting the cobra (it was a big one) and I could not leave the house by the back door because of Arthur.  I weighed up blindness with broken shins, and came to the conclusion that neither was an attractive option.

I could not really hold on for long, and from past experiences this wildlife situation might be around for a while. I came up with an alternative, it was the only option.

"Karen, I am going to have a pee in your bath."

Hungry Hippos

My first time in the African bush was in Zimbabwe and the whole experience was something never to forget. 

I was staying with my good friend Karen Paolillo, the person who I was to later describe as the Dian Fossey of hippos.  She single handedly saved a pod of hippo during the drought of 1992 in Zimbabwe, as well as countless animals in area, and it was during this time that I met her and had my first 'true bush experience'.  I stayed with her for 5 days, to learn about the bush so that I would be up to speed when I started my job as Ecologist for Raleigh International.

Karen and her husband Jean were working in Save Valley Conservancy and only had a caravan to stay in.  Near the caravan they had erected a small open sided shelter where they had moved their bed and a small table and chairs.  Usually only their cats slept in the caravan, but for the next few nights it was going to be my home too. It would be just too much for me to sleep out in the open this time around!

My first day in the bush was a dramatic one. Karen had identified this pod of hippo that was seriously affected by the drought - they had no water to use during the heat of the day and food was diminishing.  Hippos need a lot of food to sustain them, mainly bulk such as grass, and they also need water to protect their delicate skin from the fierce sun. Some of the hippos had blisters on their backs and many were certainly on the verge of starvation.

In the morning we went to feed a young mother who had moved away from the rest of the pod.  This involved me carrying a large sac of grass and pony nuts, Karen with another one and the two of us walking into the bush.  And there could have been anything in the bush waiting for us, as well as a hungry hippo. After a good half an hour of walking into the middle of nowhere, with Karen using her in-built compass and me totally relying on the fact that Karen knew where she was going, we arrived at a dry river bed. Karen told me to wait where I was, not to move, and she left me guarding the sacs of food. 

I waited, for what seemed like ages.  My mind went wild with the thought of me being watched by beady eyes, eyeing me up for food, with crazy thoughts that Karen would not come back for me and I would have to make my own way out of the bush. My thoughts were interrupted by a large crashing of branches and the sound of a very very large animal coming my way. 

Which way to go?  Which way to go?  I chose neither, stood my ground and waited whilst holding my breath, I was frozen to the spot through fear.  Then there was a deathly silence and, what felt like 20 mins later, Karen appeared.  She was impressed that I had stayed where I was guarding the food - little did she know that it was due to my inability to take any action that I had remained fixed to the spot!

The crashing had been the mother, charging through the bush in order to protect her young calf.  We knew that they were around and left the food on one of the banks, at her normal feeding point, and hastily retreated back to the relative safety of the bush camp. That was task number one done.  Task number two was to feed the rest of the pod.  This was much nearer but more labour intensive as there were more hungry hippos to feed.

Karen had a wonderful method - the hippos were given a giant 'sandwich' of grass, hay, molasses and pony nuts.  Each hippo would stand next to its neighbour and eat downwards through this 'sandwich' getting all the nutrients and bulk that a hungry hippo needs.  As Karen knew all the hippos she knew which hippo was happy eating in a group and which weren't, and where to put the 'sandwiches'.  It was a well thought out process.

I helped with the laying out of each element of the 'sandwich'.  We were a bit later than expected so we had to work quickly, and I was told to keep any eye out for greedy ones that came early.  I could empathise with this as I was getting hungry too, it been an exhausting day saving hippos. Out of the corner of my eye I sensed a movement, just a slight one, but one that was out of the ordinary.  This sense has developed over the years and has helped me spot wildlife for miles around, and get me out of trouble too.  I turned slowly and there was a hippo approaching the 'sandwich' that I was building.

"Er, Karen, there is a hippo here", I said as calmly as I could.  Adrenalin was pumping through my body as the hippo swung its head from side to side and then locked onto us.

"Move slowly backwards and get into the car" Karen said, and we both carefully walked backwards towards her battered old car.  I was praying that it would start first time this time, it was not that reliable. "If it charges, run."  I didn't need much more telling than that.  And then the hippo started moving forwards, picking up speed and opening its mouth, building up into a full blown charge.

"Run!"

We belted for the car, I leapt into the car and slammed my door shut although I did not really feel that much safer inside the vehicle. Luckily the clapped out car reacted as she should have done, roared into life and Karen reversed it at break neck speed away from the hippo and the 'sandwiches'.  The hippo was having none of this and continued to move faster towards us. Karen could not see the hippo, she was looking behind us to ensure that we did not hit any trees, so I gave her a helpful commentary of how we were doing.

"Faster Karen, faster, its gaining on us, Oh my God, faster, Oh my God!" were my helpful comments as the hippo bumped the car's bonnet. It was far too close for comfort.  Eventually the hippo gave up on its chase and decided that food was a better option. It turned around and lumbered back to its meal, leaving two wide eyed women in a car with hippo saliva on the bonnet.

Karen looked at me, her face must have been a mirror to mine - mouth open and eyes bulging, and we burst into nervous hysterical giggles.

"And that is why hippos can be pretty dangerous", gasped Karen between laughter.  I think I got the message there....

That night I went to sleep to the melodious sound of honking hippos - what an introduction to life in the bush. 

I was going to love it here.