A Scorching Day Breaks: 40°C and Thirst Across the Bush

First Encounter: A Familiar Hyaena in the Cooling Water

I drove up to the pan parking in the dusty surrounds, and quickly jumped out with my GoPro to film the hyaena enjoying his swim. I’d only been with him about a minute and coming in from the west was Blondie. She joined him and they frolicked around in the water like two lovers, being gentle in their hyaena way, playing and swimming with each other, while I walked around deeper and deeper into the pan. Blondie came over for the odd cuddle, but soon joined her boy again. For me to be right there in the water with them for about twenty minutes as they went about their happy romantic lives, was so incredibly trusting of them.

Torn Between Sunset and Staying: The Magic of Trust

The sun was setting, and I was sure other animals would be coming in, but it was too good to leave them. A while later, Blondie left to the southwest and the male soon followed.

I had to leave them now, so as not to break my golden rule again “Never walk in the bush after the sun has set, not after dark.”

Moonlit Hunt: Impala, Stalking Lions, and a Close Call

It was still incredibly hot, and my little time in the pan sure helped make it more bearable.

Soon after dark the lions headed east. They were hunting. I followed. The Acacia scrubland is quite extensive here, making it easy going for Joanie and easy for me to keep tabs on the lions. About half a kilometre from the pan, 2 male impalas were sparring. A great distraction for the lions to take advantage of. A little wind from the east was also helping mask the sound of their approach. I stopped and watched, the half-moon providing me with ample light to see what was going on. The lions moved in closer and closer using the little cover they had but relying on the impala being distracted with each other. The 2 younger lions hadn’t grasped the idea of stalking, now walking right out in the open and with that bit of moonlight, one of the impalas noticed them and bolted. (It’s always amazing to see how when youngsters botch a hunt, they’re not reprimanded. Everyone just carries on with the hunt.)

I followed the lions for another half an hour, but in the heat and grinding away in first gear following after them, Joanie was now beginning to overheat.

Sadly I had to abandon the hunt and limped back to the pan where I spent the rest of the night.

Joanie Overheats: Retreating to the Pan for the Night

I parked on the northern end of the pan next to that old acacia stump and its fallen branch, trying to get Joanie to look as much as part of the tree as possible. I stretched out on my mattress, 60cm x 120cm, on top of my camera box. I’ve slept more in this position in the last 37yrs than I have on a bed. So, I am used to it, but when I do get the chance to sleep on a real bed, it’s utter bliss.

The pan was calm, hardly a breeze. The bush quiet. Not even a cricket called. I gazed up at the stars, but with the brightness of the moon, they didn’t stand out so clearly.

Sleeping Under the Stars: Trusting Joanie Like Family

Eventually some sound. A lion roaring a long way east. It couldn’t have been the one’s I was following. Then all was quiet again. I felt comfortable and safe. My mind drifted, thinking how Joanie has kept me safe all these years. Just as my mother Joan, had.

I wondered what it would be like without Joanie. What would I do out here at night without her protection. I would settle down next to one of the bigger umbrella thorns, but no doubt I wouldn’t sleep, and every little sound would have me on edge. The lion roar in the distance would constantly have me thinking, is it coming to drink? So many thoughts, that are totally cancelled out as I lay relaxed on Joanie. Even as open as she is, I feel as safe as in a closed vehicle.

Midnight Visitors: A Thirsty Herd of Buffalo

Somewhere in the night (I make a point of not watching the time when I’m out filming, whether it be day or night, as that creates all sorts of anxiety, rather than living in the moment.) I was woken by lots of animals on the move. It must have been somewhere around midnight as the half-moon was just about on the horizon. Lots of dark shapes moving around the water’s edge and noisily splashing on the water’s edge and drinking. A herd of buffalo. I didn’t put my lights on as they are rather skittish in this area and no doubt desperate for a drink in this heat. They drank for ages. It felt good letting them quench their thirst.

In the different shades of grey cast by the moonlight, I watched as a buffalo moved around the pan between the water and Joanie. A bull? He was only a few meters away and I had the wind in my favour.

So close, it reminded me of the time I was watching a buffalo bull (years ago) standing looking away from me when he suddenly turned and charged smashing into my door right next to me, and then ran off. Joanie again saved the day, but was this about to happen again? Thankfully not and the bull moved on. The herd left and all was quiet again. The water still, reflecting the stars. A nightjar whistling its song in the distance.

A Silent Giant Approaches: The Lone Bull at the Water’s Edge

I was back on my little mattress, on top of my sleeping bag, too hot to be inside, and dozed off.

It was dark when I was again awakened. I could see its huge, silhouetted shape in the starlight, the moon having long gone. A lone elephant bull was lovingly slurping this much desired water. I wondered how far he’d walked to get here and when did he last drink. He didn’t have the luxury I had of a bottle in Joanie to quench my thirst. Again, just watching him quietly left me with a happy satisfied feeling, that he wasn’t going thirsty. There was more than enough water here to quench his thirst.

He then left as quietly as he’d come in. Really quietly, like a person shuffling along quietly wearing slippers.

Broken Sleep & Drifting Thoughts: Life Lived in the Wild

This broken sleep is pretty normal for me and over the years I’ve adapted and got used to it. No wonder I’m able to fall asleep at home sitting upright at my desk. Or reading KiKi a story only to have her prod me, “Wake up dad”.

Through the night I kept tabs on the stars, Orion’s belt, moving slowly up in the sky. It was nearly directly above me when I was woken to the sound of gentle lapping on the southern end of the pan near the big Umbrella thorn. Only predators lap. Around the umbrella thorn, all was dark, soft shadows being cast by the tree from the stars.

The Soft Lap of a Predator: A Female Leopard at the Pan

Whenever I light an area, I always shine towards the sky, so the light isn’t an instant flash of brightness. Slowly I lower the light onto the subject. The spotlight I use has a outer area of dim light with the brightest spot in the middle. The lapping kept going when the dim light lit up the animal. It had spots and it was relaxed. So I shone the brightest part onto it. A female leopard was lying on her belly drinking. She seemed unphased with me. For her, she was safely about 50m away and carried on lapping, stopping every now and then to listen, for any approaching danger, mainly in the form of lions.

Finished drinking she turned back to the branch that was bent over touching the ground and sniffed along the bark. Another leopard had marked here. Who was it? Was it her male? Happy she’d got the full scent, she turned on the branch, lifted her tail, and sprayed her own scent all over it. Full of confidence she continued on south behind the tree and into the darkness.

Dawn Awakens: The Chorus of Sparrows, Doves, and Spurwings

I think I dozed off again, but it didn’t seem much later, and the birds were starting their morning chatter. Grey-headed Sparrows were the first to welcome in the dawn. Then the raucous Natal Spurwings. And slowly the dove chorus built up accompanied by all the other bushveld birds.

It was just getting light when I opened my eyes, the sun still a long way below the horizon.

A Flash of Movement: A Mother Cheetah and Her Nervous Cub

I was sitting up, enjoying the freshness of the dawn, especially after the baking day we had yesterday. Across the savannah behind the stunted umbrella thorn trees, I saw a shape running and alarming. An impala must have been coming to drink but was spooked by something. It was light enough now to see well. They came from the south-west, a mother cheetah and her youngster. They too approached the water nervously, lions also being a problem for them. The mom crouched and drank straight away, while her more alert youngster kept scanning the area. Eventually they both drank and drank their fill before continuing one eastward, in the direction of the impala. I didn’t follow as I know they’re not that comfortable with Joanie following.

The Ever-Alert Jackal: Drink, Scan, Repeat

They had just left, and a jackal came trotting in to drink where the leopard had drunk earlier in the night. He was very nervous, approaching the water as if there could be crocodiles in there, but there aren’t. He drank a few laps and scanned the area. Drank and scanned. These animals are highly strung, something that has made them the most successful of the smaller predators.

As quickly as he’d trotted in, he left.

All the Big Predators in One Night… Except One

I had now seen all the big African predators in one night but was just missing the wild dogs. Would they come?

Coffee, Crunchies & First Light Over Chimanimani

Time for me now to quench my thirst. A cup of coffee and one of those legendary crunchies our maid Shine, makes. All served from the tea-box I made on the back of Joanie.

The sun was now peeping over the Chimanimani mountains in the east, an orange ball of sun dimmed by the haze of bushfires, mostly in Mozambique.

The Masses Arrive: Herds Seeking the Last Water

The masses started arriving from all directions. Herds and herds of impala came to drink. Also, eland, zebra, wildebeest, giraffe and baboons all in search of the last remaining water in the area. There was more than enough for all.

A Night Among Wildlife: A Quiet Observer, Soul Replenished

My nights’ sojourn was over. I had lived alongside all these animals through the night, experienced their struggle for water in these hard times. They had just let me be. Not competition, just a quiet observer, the privilege of which I don’t take for granted. With my soul replenished for now, I was happy to be heading home.