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Monday, 22 October 2018

Hunting Painted Dogs. Part Seven.


Days 8 & 9 - The Finale



Day 8 - The Hunt Ends

Sunrise


The night passed without noticeable human death or dismemberment. This was good news because, even at my age, I'm emotionally attached to most of my body parts.


4:00

We had somehow managed some sleep. The lions did not invade. The hippos had not squished us flat, and the crocs had found their amusement elsewhere. But at 4 in the morning a sound started that I had not heard before on any of our safaris, or even in our back garden. Those of you who know our back garden will find this surprising. 
It started as a loud low growl (a lion?) but ended on a much higher, agonised yodelling wail (an alien?). And these sounds went on continuously, so it surely was not lions? They normally only manage sex every 15 minutes. Lucky sods. 
So what could it have been? Annick said that she had heard something like this during those long nights spent sitting on the WC. So maybe it was an animal in similar distress?
We thought that maybe it was a lion caught in its death throws, or perhaps in coitus permanentus.
It was neither. 
It turned out to be two large bull hippos in a death tournament. Thankfully not our death. 
Thanks for keeping us awake guys.

4:45

This was an early wake-up call, somewhat unnecessary considering the death tournament preceding it. Very early. We needed to leave at 5am (4am body clock time, although by now my body clock’s main spring was considerably out of kilter). 

5:15

We wearily started the day with a few coffees then set off slightly groggy and slightly late. 

6:15

Dawn arose en route, as we made our way to the gate. 
Dogs had been sighted just outside the reserve the previous morning at 6:15. We were tight on time...
We arrived at the gates and had to fill out the required exit forms and hand in all our weapons of mass destruction. 

6:18

Exiting the park, we continued on the ‘main’ road. We were late. We reached full speed

6:20

But not for long...
We had to get past. Time was of the essence. After trying to find a way into the dense bush, we gave up and drove full pelt for the sandy banking. At speed. Sideways. Ian drove around the van like a demon possessed. Thankfully we had already been to the toilet. 

6:30

We made it and sped on. Underwear intact.
We soon arrived at the point dogs had been seen before. Other jeeps were already there. Dogs had been seen crossing the road but minutes before!
We sped off into the forest driving along narrow tracks. Many of these were dead ends.
We circled the area that the dogs were most likely to be in, but it was not possible to see far. They could be anywhere. We were five trucks by now, each in communication with the other. We spoke to a local bushman who confirmed that they were in his village earlier on, doing their morning shopping, but had headed in this direction.
Somewhere.
We searched.
And searched.

7:00

After about a half hour of staring into dense bush, our hopes had all but been dashed. By now three of the other jeeps had given up, leaving just two of us, desperately searching. 
We didn’t give up. 
They were not there. 
They had sneaked away.
We headed onto the main road again to go further east, knowing that the dogs hunting time was probably over. One more desperate search. 
But no good!! The road was once more blocked by another bloody truck! So frustrating!!
We were forced to give up and turned around in despair.  

7:05

To see this in front of us...
Astonishingly there was an entire pack of fourteen Painted Dogs right there, in the middle of the road, right in front of us!
There were tears.
Seriously, there were tears.
We stood there gawping, snapping away with the camera until its memory was choked.

7:09

Then, all of a sudden, they jumped up and disappeared into the bush.
They had gone.
But those few moments with them were worth the entire time spent looking for them. We felt both exilerated and privileged. 
Ian explained that they were not coming back again, that we had seen the last of them. 
Ian was not always right.

7:15

Five minutes later, as the elation was beginning to seep away, they were back!
Incredibly, the entire pack had returned to the road, and were relaxing in front of us.
A pack with two alpha males and two alpha females.
Some looking rather less than well dressed.

With the pack were six pups.

They were in constant movement. They would drop down to lie prone,
Then, microseconds later leap up, then sit down.
Then chew something,
Then play, play, play.

7:34

Eventually they moved on, over the other side of the road and away once more.
"We won’t see them again" said Ian...
But just incase... we decided to head to the nearby airstrip and try to circle around them.

7:44

And guess what?
In the short time it had taken us to circle around and find them again, they had made a kill.
Some kind of an antelope. What was it?
Ah. A dikdik. I’d been trying to get a photo of one of them all week...
A dikdik isn’t enough to fill the entire pack’s stomachs. The pups were left there with the alpha dogs, the rest were on a hunt.
The pups fought over the remains.


10:20

In the three hours that we spent with the dogs, I took over 1,200 photos. My camera was close to overheating.
This had been one of the most phenomenal times of my life. Emotion was high. 
This was good.
It was sadly time to leave them in peace, or, more precisely, their continued struggle to avoid extinction.

We headed back to our nighttime haunt for lunch.


___________________________________________________

After lunch, we went slowly back to camp, stopping to see the slightly less exciting, anticlimactic usual beasts en route.




On arriving back at camp to a heroes welcome, we cast off for our final celebratory sundowner on the opposite shore.

passing the usual herons
We landed on the beach after a couple of failed attempts, leading one of the guides, Simba, to leap into the water and drag us to the beach by hand. Mad bugger. Maybe he's immune to crocs?
And did we celebrate! What a truly memorable day.
 What a memorable week.

 Day’s End


Daily Bonus: Annick's favourite iPhone image from Day 8
The Master at work


Day 9 - Going Home

Sunrise


Another, final, early rise at 5:30 (by now, my body clock has given up all hope). This was to be our last morning's drive to say farewell to the local wildlife. 
We asked for lions, we got lions. 
The fact that I requested lions hunting giraffes seems to have been ignored.
Our final breakfast stop was by a swamp...
That's not me by the way.
Having 'done the dogs' we photographed the more prosaic, ubiquitous wildlife surrounding us.
Such as the lilac-breasted roller.
The hopping giraffe.
 and I guess, finally, you just have to include a pumba or two.
We stopped off at some Hot Springs...
where we had yet another puncture. Someone didn't want us to leave.
After our final lunch at the camp, we said our goodbyes to the amazing staff and headed on our way. 
We took our leave from the tiny airstrip heading to Dar es Salaam International Airport. 
I hate goodbyes. 
Instead: Au revoir.
Our flight to Dar es Salaam was necessarily in daylight due to the plane from Selous being somewhat on the primitive side. We stopped for five minutes in Zanzibar, then onto the main airport. As we had several hours to kill (as our flight back was to take off near midnight) we popped over to the other side of Dar es Salaam (nearly 2 hours of traffic jams) to catch the final sunset in a beach cafe.
Then back to the airport for the obligatory uncomfortable, sleepless, long, tiresome hours on a long-haul flight. 
Bleh.
Farewell Africa.

Day’s End


No one noticed the painted puppies I had in my backpack...

Daily Bonus: Annick's favourite iPhone image from Day 9
One of the many tracks we followed. What was this animal?

---------The End---------

Afterword

Thanks for reading! With 9,000 photos to look through, those in this blog are only just the beginning. I may have to bore you with more to come...
Many thanks to Ian Kiwelu for his (as usual) amazing guiding abilities and his formidable knowledge of wildlife, and Julien Polet for being an entertaining host and postponing his holiday just for us! (I forgive you for seeing the dogs first).
Thanks again both of you (and others including Sindy and Jamie, but not including the w**kers from Wigan) for being great dining companions.
We will see you again.
Next stop the Mara?

Part one of this amazing story, 'Getting There' can be found here.
Part two of this amazing story, 'Selous Game Reserve' can be found here.
Part three of this amazing story, 'A Near Miss' can be found here.
Part four of this amazing story, 'A Romantic Interlude' can be found here.
Part five of this amazing story, 'Alone' & 'Plan B' can be found here.
Part six of this amazing story, 'The Cunning Plan' can be found here.

Friday, 19 October 2018

Hunting Painted Dogs. Part Six.



Day 7 - The Cunning Plan

Sunrise


The day had started dull. 
The vultures had gathered. 
The portents were not good. 
They were poor portents...
We continued on our search for tracks. Dogs would have done just as well.
Paw prints led us to the usual culprits...
This one is having his fill of milk. Their ability to crush bones take a year or more to finesse, so the milk bar stays open late.
This one is tarting herself up..
We struggled on. A lone stork regarded us with contempt from his vantage point on top of a tree. It may be a good vantage point, but it's rubbish for catching fish.

It was clear that with only a couple of days left, our chances of finding dogs was rapidly approaching zero.
Zero was not good.
With no dogs to photograph, I focussed on impala. This little one was all alone. I give it two hours.
We still searched for tracks in the sand rivers.
If any tracks were to be found here, this guy was busy walking all over them. (And crapping all over them too.)

The landscape here is beautiful and constantly changing. Baobabs everywhere, thankfully providing photo-opportunities. That don't move fast.
It is humbling being close to a living thing over two thousand years old. My wife tells me that all the time.
Although this one was a little emaciated. 
Ah. Not a baobab...
I even stooped to taking photos of a bushbuck pooping.
Taking silhouettes of giraffes was no replacement for our canine friends. This also involved stooping.
We went back to camp for lunch.
We were ravenous...
Well. The time had come to make a decision. We needed a new plan. An innovative plan. A desperate plan. A cunning plan. A plan more cunning than a hyena...
And more desperate.

The pack of dogs that we were trying to spot clearly were not playing ball. They had been unseen for several days by anyone. Not even the ball had been seen.
However, to the east, four hours drive away, just outside the game reserve, dogs had been spotted this very same morning. Painted dogs. Not the other sort.
And thus Plan C was born. C for 'Cunning'.
We would up sticks and go there.

The dogs had been spotted outside the gate at 6:15 that morning crossing the main road. 'Main Road' is a comparative word. Traffic here is nearly as rare as wild dogs, although, as we were to find out, not as agile...
We would drive three hours that afternoon to a campsite near the eastern gate of the reserve.
This would mean camping out under the stars.
We would sleep overnight under nowt but a mosquito net, then up at the crack of dawn the next morning. We needed to leave that temporary camp before 6am to get outside the reserve in time to stand a chance of seeing them.
Outside of the park the bush was dense and not easy to search. Pretty much like the bush inside the reserve...
We packed and were ready for off.
We had been assured by other guest who had already camped out that this was not dangerous. They had a whole set up of toilets, kitchen, campfires, shower, machine guns... we'd be amazed when we saw it.
After only two hours drive, we saw our camp, and we were amazed.
They were stuck.
There was our camp, an hour from where it needed to be. Totally stuck. With no chance of getting out that day, or even the next.
We were in trouble. Big trouble.

A new plan was required: Plan C, version 2. C for even more cunning...

The separate parts of the portable camp would be transported, with local help, to a nearby lake shore. As we could not pass the truck without wings, we needed to detour. About half an hour's drive.
This we did.

As the sun was setting, heading towards the lake, we realised that we were not alone.
These two lions were heading in the same direction as us.
But they had things on their mind other than eating campers.
They were horny.
Horny but still heading towards our camp...
We arrived in the dark with the lions trailing far (but not far enough) behind us. The tents had just arrived and were being erected. In the dark.
We couldn't really see what they were doing. We just hoped that they had better night vision than us.
Here are pictures I took later the following day.
The tent on the right is the changing room, where our stuff was stored. The green netting thing on the left is where we were to sleep. Gulp. The 'washroom' was outside. My thoughts went back to this morning's poor potents...
The toilet, however, was constructed about 50 meters away.
The intervening stretch of crocodile infested beach (with added hippos and lions) had to be traversed in the dark...

We ate, drank, made merry, then entered our chamber for the night....
A whole night passed by without toilet trips...

Day’s End


Daily Bonus: Annick's favourite iPhone image from Day 7
Sunrise on our penultimate day; 
the day before our ultimate day...

To be continued in the next blog, finally entitled Part Seven - The Finale.

Part one of this amazing story, 'Getting There' can be found here.
Part two of this amazing story, 'Selous Game Reserve' can be found here.
Part three of this amazing story, 'A Near Miss' can be found here.
Part four of this amazing story, A Romantic Interlude' can be found here.
The previous part of this amazing story, 'Alone' & 'Plan B' can be found here.
The Next Part is Here!