There is nothing quite like bathing in an outdoor shower and then sitting on your deck in your fluffy towel watching elephants fifty yards out as they feed and cool themselves in the waters of the Okavango Delta.
We sat and watched the infamous Little Dave for a few hours one morning. We were so close that we could hear him as he pulled the grass up with his trunk and slapped it back and forth to remove the mud. His ears constantly moving forward and back to cool himself. Every few minutes he stopped long enough to spay himself with water. His stomach gurgled constantly. Once in a while, Little Dave let out a deep moan or a snort. An egret rested peacefully on his back.
We arrived here at Gunns Camp Friday afternoon after flying from Camp Kalahari and landing on yet another bush airstrip. Pilots always circle these little landing strips to ensure there are no animals about. When we flew out of Camp Kalahari Camp yesterday three elephants stepped out onto the runway. Fortunately, they were on their way over to the Mopane trees on the other side. Otherwise, we were going to have to send someone down there to shu them away.
The Okavango Delta is as watery a world as the salt pans are dry during the dry season. Yet, it took only 90 minutes of flying time to get here. Life in the pans is harsh and tenuous. Here, in the Delta, it is abundant and seemingly, more kind.
Gunns Camp, at the end of Chef’s Island in the Delta, is situated on the edge of a main channel with thick marsh leading up to the actual camp. Luxury tents line the parameter with a central three-story thatch lodge a quarter-mile away. The tents and lodge are connected via a winding and elevated boardwalk. At two points there are signs for elephant crossings. The camp staff has lowered and narrowed the boardwalk at these places so that the elephants can cross over without damaging it.
Apparently, there are a few elephants who have taken a liking to the camp environs and can be a little aggressive. Little Dave is a frequent visitor and is known to be the naughtiest of the elephants. So far we like him because he has spent the day outside our tent peacefully eating. This morning as Kevin went back to the room he came across a warthog at the end of the boardwalk forcing him to detour a tad. These are amazingly ugly creatures—right out of a children’s scary storybook.
The Delta landscape changes constantly as the waters flood and then recede with the seasons. What was land becomes water and what was a waterway becomes a floating island or a dry island if the land is elevated enough. Reeds, papyrus, and tall grasses make up these floating islands where the elephants and the crocs like to be. Hippos hang out under the islands but move to the deeper channels as the floodwaters recede. Hippos all come out of the water at night to higher dry ground and do hippo things. Buffalo, warthogs, zebra, giraffe, lion, leopard, and a half dozen species of antelope make the dry islands their home—crossing from island to island at the more shallow channels. Animals here though know how to swim.
Then there are the birds. Oh yes, the birds! There are simply dozens and dozens of species, almost all of them beautiful—even the females. Standing underneath a group of trees this morning, the noise from the hornbills and starlings was almost deafening. A King Fisher was busy fishing and numerous Bee Eaters flitted about from flowering bush to flowering bush. High above us was a Giant Eagle owl sitting next to its nest with a chick just tall enough to peer out over the edge. Hornbills are abundant. Fish Eagles sit majestically on their perches at the top of the trees and their cries punctuate the morning crispness. Those of us that are counting now have 45 birds on the bird list. Considering, we started at zero, that’s pretty good.
