„DOWN
THE ZAMBEZI“
AND
OTHER
STORIES
Bert's Safaris
Down
the Zambezi
„How
much further is it?“ He asked of nobody in particular.
„Not
that much. Another couple of hundred meters and we'll see the river.
And
from there it's another half a kilometer.“ Kel smiled broadly.
It
was a very hot day.
To
carry two canoes, four paddles, food for four for 6 days, including
potatoes, dried and vacuum packed meat, and, very important, a
thermos box filled with ice, 30 kilos of camera equipment, including
a heavy tripod, along with four folded mosquito nets, and four
roll-up ground pads, made for quite a load and he was very glad that
they had hired a group of local boys to carry it all to the bank of
the Zambezi, right below the Hydro Electric dam at Kariba.
For
the next little while they were busy sorting it all out and arriving
at an equal distribution of the entire load in the two canoes.
Although
the bearers had been paid, they stuck around, wanting to see those
crazy white boys, trusting their fate in the river with those flimsy
boats.
Did
they not know there are Crocs and Hippos in this river?
Yes, they knew that there are Crocs and Hypos in this river.
The Zambezi
flowed quietly and only now and then they used a stroke with the
paddle to maintain direction. Then the river made a bend and the
canoes came very close to the Zimbabwe shore.
A pod of
Hippos were cooling off in the shallows, some of them lazily lying in
the sand.
“Slow
down.. let's slow down!” Kel called. “Hug the shore and let's
not cut off their route into deeper water. They'll soon go into the
river and then we can pass. ”
“Yes”,
Mike added, “If you cut too close, Hippos get angry and we don't
want to have to deal with a pod of angry hippos.” The chuckle in
his voice took away none of the seriousness of the warning.
“What
happens, if they decide not to go into the river but to hang around
the shore for the day?”
Bert asked.
“Then we
would have to back up and give them a wide space” Kel said. “But
don't worry, they'll head for deeper water.”
The canoes
had almost come to a stand still, when the last of the Hippos
decided that it was the middle of the river where she wanted to be,
and the Zambezi Adventure of the two Canadians, Bert and John, guided
and protected by their two Zimbabwean friends, Kel and Mike, could
continue.
The afternoon
was long and hot.
In his safari
hat Bert periodically scooped water from the river and poured it over
his head.
This gave
some short lived relief from the heat.
The two
canoes drifted slowly down-river.
In late
afternoon they reached a little island, not much more than a sand
bank and Burt was very happy to hear Kel suggest that this should be
their first overnight stop.
It was easy
to pull the canoes out of the water and onto the sand.
“Look at
these” Bert said to Kel, pointing at some regular indentations in
the sand, “aren't these the footprints of an Elephant?”
“That they
are” Mike said.
“Aren't we
supposed to be just a little worried? John suggested.
“This Ele
was here some time ago.” Kel's voice was casual. “He won't be
back if he sees us here.”
At the
up-river end, the island was about two feet above water, one foot in
the middle and about 6 inches under the water level at the down river
end.
Quickly a
camp site was erected, and all four travelers put up their mosquito
net in their fashion.
Bert used his
fully extended tripod, over which he placed his 'mosy-net', on the
ground a thin roll-up pad, and, as a finishing touch, his safari hat
on top.
Then he
slowly undressed, and walked to the down-river end of this sandbank.
He carefully scanned the river, saw neither Croc nor Hippo.
********************
He lay on
his back, staring at the few white clouds in the sky. The water,
clear, with a greenish tinge, lapped over his shoulders.
“Am I
really here? Am I really here in Africa, lying on my back, on a
sandbank in the middle of the Zambezi river, digging my heels into
the sand, so that the gently flowing water won't float me down,
eventually to Mozambique? Is it me lying here, looking at the sky?”
Am I really
here, or am I just dreaming all of this.?”
Eventually
Bert was convinced that this was what was really happening in this
place and in this time.
********************
“Hey,
Bert,” Kel's voice penetrated to his consciousness, “come here
and grab a bite to eat”
While he was
dreaming, Kel and Mike had made a small campfire, using dry driftwood
they had collected on the river's bank, and cooked up something which
looked like Goulash, but tasted like some spicy Indian concoction.
For a while,
the four ate in silence.
“It'll be
getting dark fast now” Mike said
“Will we
keep the fire going during the night?” John asked.
“Won't be
necessary! We're on an island
What's more,
we don't have enough wood. We gathered just a little more than we'd
need for cooking.”
Kel scraped
the last of his “Indian Goulash” from his tin plate.
There was a
nearly full moon.
By his wrist
watch it was about 3 O'clock in the morning when Bert woke up.
He could hear
John and Kel, right next to him, snoring in unison.
Mike's
sleeping bag was a little off to one side.
Bert sat up
in his mosquitoes-barring contraption. He rubbed sleep out of his
eyes.
He blinked
and then he blinked again.
He saw a
light flashing in irregular intervals on the Zambian shore. It
seemed to flash in Morse-code... short flashes and then a few long
ones and then short ones again.
A mild breeze
moved the reeds at the end of the island, causing them to make a
rasping sound.
The
irregularly spaced flashing continued.
In a half-hearted whisper Bert called; “Kel! Kel! Wake up!”
Kel and John
sat up quickly.
“What is
it?” Kel asked. His voice was low and sleep-drunk.“What's the
matter”?
“See, over
there!” Bert whispered. “See the light flashing?
In a long
forgotten war Kel had been assigned to “Intelligence”.
He remembered
Morse and slowly he began to speak in a whisper:
“... u c
k.. . c h i r u n d u .. h u n t ..s u x.”
“Poachers”
Ken said, and again: “Poachers”
...” and
they're not local boys. They'd be morse-coding in one of the Bantu
languages, likely Bemba, if they come from Zambia, or, from Zim
they'd be talking Shona or maybe Endebele.”
“I thought
that English is the official language in both, Zimbabwe and Zambia”
Bert said.
“It is,
you're right, it is, but Poachers don't often use it.” Kel said
Mike, having
crawled out of his sleeping bag, joined the other three.
“We have to
go back” he said. “About a mile back, on the Zim shore there is a
Ranger station. We gotta notify them”
“Bert and I
will paddle back” Kel had taken command:
Turning to
Mike he said: “You and John stay here and look after the camp.”
Bert and Kel
grabbed one paddle each. The lighter of the canoes was floated and
the trip up-river started with furious energy.
******************
“You see
anything else?” The Chief Ranger asked.
“No”,
said Bert “Just the bursts of light from the Zambian shore, which
seemed to come from a strong flash light.”
“And you?”
he turned to Kel. “Are you sure the message asked for a truck?”
“I read the
Morse: It said: “...u c k”. I do not know, but I assume, that the
preceding letters must have been t.r. He hesitated for a moment. "Of course it could have been an "F" but I don't think so.
“We thank
you profoundly” said the Chief Ranger without even a trace of a smile.
“We will take appropriate
action”
He and Kel
looked at each other, neither breaking their stare.
“Well then,
that's all there is! There ain't no more!” Kel said, and, turning
to Bert:
“Come on,
let's go back. We wanna go on a Photo-Safari!”
His voice was
tinged with disappointment and frustration.
The way back,
with the flow of the river, was easy and quick. They reached their
island where John and Mike had been waiting, everything ready to go.
“Will they
send anybody?” Mike asked.
“I hope so.
But don't hold your breath” Kel answered.
They
got into their canoes and shoved off, into the river.
Papyrus grass
was densely packed along the island's shore line. Nests of Weaver
Birds hanging from the sturdy plants.
A vertical
shoreline, dotted with many holes, leading, so Kel explained, up to
two meters into the ground, are the
nesting places for the Red Breasted Bee Eaters.
White
Throated Bee Eaters sat in the branches of bushes skirting the shore.
With paddles
simply used for direction, the canoes floated slowly past these
wonderful paintboxes of nature.
“Look”
Kel said, “at two o'clock” Casually he pointed in the indicated
direction.
There stood
the Bull Elephant, trumpeting a challenge.
Burt's camera
kept on clicking.
“Is this
likely the one who left the foot prints in the sand?” John asked.
“Likely”
Mike said.
Nobody moved.
They sat in their Canoes, staring, slowly drifting past the Ele.
A small
promontory jutted out into the river. Covered with a dense growth of
grass, at its base a stunted
acacia, a small rock formation at the very tip.
“There's
something moving” Mike and John said almost in unison.
At this
moment, the Crocodile decided that flight was called for. It lunged
into the river, creating quite a bow wave.
“That's one
of the big ones,” Kel allowed “Let's measure it”
Once the
canoe had touched land and was secured, he stepped out onto the
promontory.
“Here was
the tail, just touching this maponi. The head was kinda resting on
this rock”
With about 1
meter steps, Kel arrived at a 5 meter long Croc.
“Don't
tangle with this one” he said.
“Your
chances are about Nil.” Mike added.
*******************
The
promontory created a small bay of still water and they needed to
paddle out of it first, before the current would slowly take them
down stream again.
The shoreline
now was a vertical, one to two meters high embankment. Crocs were
basking in the blazing sun. Carelessly the canoe with Bert and John
came a bit too close. The Croc evidently wanted no part of this
intrusion and in one mighty leap it 'flew' into the river barely
inches in front of the canoe's bow.
“First
time, I've ever been splashed by a Croc.” John's smile was a bit
pained.
“We gotta
give `em a little more space” Kel admonished Bert and John.
“They
really want no part of you, but they also wanna be left in peace.”
“If
bothered, they can become very nasty fellows.” Mike added.
Since this "leapin' Croc" was less than a meter from the bow of our canoe, and everything happened so fast, you must forgive the somewhat un-sharp image. 😆
A Saddle bill
Stork, carefully lifting one leg, inserting the other into the
shallow water, without causing a ripple, forever foraging for frogs,
and any other small creatures, swimming about.
A family,
mother and three goslings, of Egyptian Geese, waddling close to the
shore line, the water barely covering their splayed feet, pecking for
eatables here and there.
****************
Again it was
Kel who spotted them first.
He just
pointed in their direction and silently he nodded his head.
There, with
the shore line rising, a small herd of Impala. The male's horns
curving in an arc.
“The older the buck, the greater the curve.” Kel said.
Three males,
seemingly watching over twelve to fourteen females.
The Impala
knew of the dangers of Crocodiles. Cautiously they approached the
water, a few laps of the important liquid, then they raised their
heads again, cautiously scanning their surroundings, some more quick
tongue wetting slurps and back up the little rise to relative safety.
This
small group of Impala carefully observed the Elephant.
Once
they realized that from this source came no danger, they continued
grazing.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
It was high
Afternoon. The sun beat down mercilessly and only a now-and-
then-dousing with river water, scooped up with a small bucket, or in
a safari hat brought temporary relief.
The near
Zimbabwean and the distant Zambian shores were beautiful and exciting
enough to let them forget the heat for a moment or two.
Palm trees
swayed gently, and the Papyrus, growing in perfusion along the shore,
gave off a dry rattle in the gentle breeze.
“I'd love
to go for a swim” Bert said.
“The Crocs
would love you to go for a swim too” Mike suggested, and the four
friends laughed.
“What do
you think” Bert turned to Kel. “Will the rangers try and find the
poachers”
“I sure
hope so” Kel said “but I wouldn't bet on it.” his voice not
brimming with confidence.
“If they
didn't go, we couldn't blame them. We didn't give them a whole lot of
reliable information. We told them that there was a light signal
coming from the Zambian shore. We could not give them a precise
location... My operating with Morse was a long time ago. Maybe I was
wrong!”
“You know
very well that you weren't wrong. You spelled it out for the Ranger
in no uncertain terms.” Bert was disappointed.
“Best we
forget about it. We saw what we saw, we did what we needed to do, the
rest is not up to us” Mike said and there was firmness in his
voice.
“I suppose
you're right”
“You know
that I'm right.”
“There's a
Hippo at one O'clock. We're heading straight at it. Let's back up a
bit and give him a wider berth”
“Well
spotted! And against the glare of the sun”. said John
The large
Hippo was lying low in the water. Only his nose, eyes and ears were
above water level.
This way, his
whole body submerged, he could still smell, see and hear all of his
surroundings.
With a snort,
a bellow and a spray of water the Hippo told them that he was there and
had no intention to give way.
Safely out of
the hippo's territory, the two canoes floated in the middle of the
river.
From behind
an island, consisting mostly of papyrus plants, another “canoe”
appeared.
Two natives
sitting in a hollowed out tree trunk, deftly handling their paddles,
cruising up-river, they hailed the four Safari travelers.
“Hey! You
wanna buy good fish?”
“Only if
it's Bream” Mike shouted back.
“We gotta
Bream an' we gotta Tiger”
“Keep your
Tiger! But let's see the Bream!
“Actually,
I wanted to catch my own” Kel said, “but let's see what you've
got”.
Proudly the
two Shona displayed two good-sized Bream.
The three
boats had come close together.
Mike held out
his hands.
“Which you
want?” then he added “ipi iwe da? Mari kana raura hzvihakohook?
“You want
Money or fish hooks?”
“amwe ye
ose” one of the Shona said with a broad smile. Then, as if to make
sure, he added: “soma dis soma dat”
All four
participants in these trade negotiations laughed.
Quickly some
fishing hooks, some sinkers and some money and the two Breams changed
hands and a “High Five” sealed the deal.
This
is the home of the two clever traders,
who
had carved their own canoe out of a log
and
had made their own paddles from sturdy branches.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
“I had
hoped, we'd make the Chirundu bridge before nightfall” Kel said.
“Not at the
terrific speed we're going” Mike replied with a smile.
“It's about
sixty five kms from Kariba to Chirundu. I estimate that we've done
about 20 per day., maybe less. So, we have at least another day's
paddle to Chirundu”
A small
tributary, dried out this time of year, gave a safe landing spot.
“This is a
river bed?” Bert asked.
“It is
that, alright” Ken answered.
Then John,
scratching his silver head worried:
“If there
is a big rain, somewhere up river, there.” He pointed to the South,
where he suspected the Highlands were, “could we not be swept
away?”
His broad
smile showed that he really did not himself believe in a 'Big Rain'
in the middle of the Dry Period.
“If there
were a Big Rain now,” Mike allowed, “yes, we'd be swept, sitting
in our canoes, right down to Chirundu, Mana Pools, Chewore,
Mozambique and finally into the Indian Ocean.
But we don't
need to worry. There won't be a 'Big Rain'.
The Canoes
were unloaded, sleeping areas were selected and everybody got busy
collecting wood.
“We have to
have a fire burning all night.”
“To keep
mosquitoes at bay?”
“No, to
keep Lions, Hyenas and Jackals from snooping. Don't forget! We are
not on an island, like last night. This is the tail end of wide open
Country.”
There was dry
driftwood and other wood in great quantities.
“We'll keep
the fire small.” Kel said
“At the
outset I'll need a bit more for cooking” Mike said.
He, after the
first night's success, had been unanimously elected as “The Chef.”
The other
three were all “Sou-Chefs” doing practically nothing but Suggest,
Recommend and Criticize, and, at the Chef's command, putting the
occasional piece of wood into the fire.
It was a
glorious meal: The two Breams, beautifully filleted. Outside crispy
brown, inside soft, moist and tender, prepared with herbs and spices,
quite unknown to Bert and John.
And then
after the meal: the piece de resistance: Four collapsible drinking
cups half filled with ice and tonic water and one bottle of Gordon's
Gin, from which the four could each determine the amount of their
mixture.
Here you are:
You sit in the sand of a dry riverbed, within a few meters of the
Zambezi River.
In the tree
above you, a pair of African Fish Eagles, a family of Baboons
chattering, waiting for an appropriate moment to steal something.
Out, in the river, Hippos grunting, and on the shore some Impala.
Reeds growing in, what in the rainy season, is the confluence of this
nameless river and the Zambezi.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You have just
consumed a delicious meal, and you carefully sip on a Gin and Tonic.
You take it slowly, because you want to make it last. Isn't this the Life?
With a marker
pen Mike had written the numbers 1 to 4 on four small stones, which
he put face down into the sand.
All four
picked up one of the stones. John would have the first watch, Kel the
second, Mike the third and Bert the fourth and last two hour watch.
The Sun had
long since gone down and it had gotten dark quickly.
Bert decided
to go and brush his teeth before he'd crawl under his tripod
contraption.
From his
small 'hygienic bag' he withdrew brush and paste, heading for the
river, only meters away.
Kel saw him
and called: “Where you headin', Bert”
“Just
to brush my teeth”
“Hold it
for a moment. I wanna show you something before you go brush your
teeth.”
Kel called
for Mike: “Come here a moment, bring your flashlight. Bert wants to
brush his teeth by the river.”
“Oh yea?”
Mike joined Kel and Bert a safe distance from the water's edge.
They both
directed the beam of the flash lights into the reeds, growing at the
water's edge.
“you see
the five pairs of red lights?” Kel asked. “They're just waiting
for somebody to come to brush their teeth”
Bert's
answer got stuck in his throat.
“See, Four
of them are actually small ones. But the fifth one is three to four
meters, easily.”
Mike had
judged the Croc's size by the distance between their red reflecting
eyes.
Bert admitted
that he quite easily could do without brushing his teeth.
“That's why
we got the water in this plastic balloon, from the middle of the
river. For cooking and for brushing of teeth.” Kel grinned.
“In fact,
if you drink the water from a stagnant area, if the Croc won't get
you, Bilharzia will.”
“What's
Bilharzia?” John asked.
“It's, I
believe, a tiny little worm, which plays hell with your liver, and
with your general interior.”
Bert felt
like a fool, but also a deep sense of gratitude towards Kel and Mike
for looking after him, the Greenhorn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bert and John
sat on a fallen Maponi, Kel and Mike sat in the sand. They nursed
their second Gin and Tonic.
“We'll get
to Chirundu tomorrow afternoon” Kel said. He drew a map of the
river with a stick in the sand.
“We're
here” he said, drawing an X .“Now the river makes quite a bend,
and I estimate that we are about 20 ks from Chirundu, where we can
replenish our food supply.
Fresh
vegetables, some bread and some fruit and maybe a nice piece of
meat.”
“A friend
of mine owns a 'Rondavo' in Chirundu,” Kel said. “kind of a round
weekend hut, right on the river. We can stay there for the night.”
It got close
to midnight. John's two hours fire watch was about to start. Kel was
already sound asleep, knowing that he would be awakened in two hours
for the second watch.
Mike and Bert
made a halfhearted attempt at conversation.
Soon they too
were asleep.
John put
another piece of driftwood into the fire and watched the sparks fly.
Bert's watch
from 6 to 8 was almost unnecessary. Daylight had broken and the fire
had died down.
He heard the
sound of an outboard motor and woke his companions.
The light
stuttering sound came closer and finally there was the crunch of a
metal hull hitting the sand.
“I thought
I'd find you here. I saw the fire on the way down.” The
Chief-Ranger said, as his helper pulled the boat up a little further
onto land.
“You should
know that four poachers are now in the custody of the Zambian
Agency.” he continued.
Kel showed
his surprised delight:
“How did
this happen so fast?”
“Well”
the Ranger said, “our Zambian colleagues had been tracking this
gang for a while.
They would
show up and disappear just as quickly and silently. Sometimes they'd
be on this side of the river, sometimes on the Zambian side. We just
never knew where they'd show up next. It was your information which
allowed us to pin-point their present location.
Four Zambians
and four of our guys closed in on them while they were all asleep and
that's the end of them for a while. I had to pull our men out of
there quickly since we have no jurisdiction in Zambia.”
“I wish I'd
been there” Kel said.
“It wasn't
exciting” said the Ranger.
“I just
wanted you to know, that's all” he added.
“Well, I
wish I'd been there” Kel repeated wistfully.
“Thanks for
the tip, anyway” the Ranger shouted as they floated their boat into
the river.
A short pull
on the rip-cord and noisily they were off.
*******************
“Let's
clean the site, do one more '360' and we're on our way to Chirundu.”
Mike said.
“I would
like to get there by mid afternoon, so we can do some shopping” he
added .
“We'll just
have to paddle a bit and not just go with the flow.” Kel suggested.
They sat in
their accustomed places in their canoes.
Bert could
not keep his eyes, nor his camera lenses, off the shoreline.
“There's a
family of Eles, off to the right.
A few meters downstream, a small herd of Cape Buffalo.
A few meters downstream, a small herd of Cape Buffalo.
Must be 20 or
more.
There are
Impala!
Over there,
three Zebras.
Over at this
little island, a Saddle Bill Stork.
Fish Eagle
cruising, looking for breakfast.”
Three
Cheetahs out for a leisurely stroll.
The dying Sun catches the last two of these Elles.
Curiously these Buffalos stare at us.
Forever foraging for anything eatable.
Totally relaxed Cheetah
The Cameras clicked away and Burt beamed in anticipation
of the slide show he would produce.
************************
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