Putting the ADVENTURE in Overseas Adventure Travel

Okay, let's start by stating the basic facts - members of our group almost lost their lives 3 times on this trip. Incredibly all 3 events happened at the same camp and to the same half of the larger group of 15. I suspect our guides were most happy to see the 8 of us leave the Okavanga Delta camp in Botswana alive and well at the end of our 3-day stay there.

Here we are - the "Lucky 8" and Godfrey. Anna is the woman with the light pink 

jacket on the left. All the great photos in these entries are from her.

Incident #1 - The Elephant Attack

Soon after arriving at camp we left for the usual sundowner animal viewing trip. 8 of us piled into one of the Land Rovers around 4 p.m. and met our new guide, Godfrey, a wonderful, knowledgable, engaging man with a wide grin and a hoot in his laugh that drew all to him. We were soon bouncing over the savanna learning about the animals of the Delta and how this environment differed from the camp we had just left on the Chobe River. We saw antelopes, kudu, elephants, giraffes, wart hogs, guinea hens - the usual denizens of the savanna. Godfrey spent much of this first trip telling us about elephants. We soon passed an open space that had been trampled by elephants - it was thick with their tracks. This was the place, Godfrey said, where an old elephant had recently died. As is the case with elephants, when one dies the others come back to the place of its death to "pay their respects." I put "pay their respects" in quotation marks because I know it anthropomorphizes the animals and yet it seems an appropriate phrase to describe the action of purposely coming to a place of death. And this is done for the death of any elephant, of any age, according to Godfrey. As we have been told since our youth, the memory of elephants is prodigious; they never forget. Here was one more example.

He then described differences among groupings of elephants - the bachelor herds (lots of young males, acting out but with little follow-through), the breeding herds (mainly mothers and young although males may accompany them - take care, they are protective) and the solitary elephants who roam the savanna. It was fascinating, especially as it was accompanied by close-up views of these majestic animals. There is nothing like making eye contact with a huge African elephant as it slowly passes you by. It most definitely feels like the elephant is sizing you up.

A bit before sunset we found ourselves on a road in a scrub forest with a group of elephants directly in front of us.  Godfrey identified it as a bachelor herd.

This is one of my photos - note the ears flopping toward us - not a good sign.  He is not happy with our presence but we thought we were safe - it was just the bachelors.

Godfrey stopped the car while we watched the animals. We heard calling among them and began to see movement - animals crossing the road in front of us. At first it was one or two, then a few more and then we realized quite a few elephants were starting to assemble about 50 feet to the left of our car. We continued to believe these were the silly doofus bachelors who were no threat to anyone when we heard Godfrey say, "Oh boy" and looked up to see 2 big females with babies start toward us. This was NOT a bachelor herd but a breeding herd - a whole new ball game. A new set of rules. Be wary.

I look back on the whole thing and realize how calm Godfrey remained - we had no idea of the danger we were in until the incident was almost over. Afterwards he explained that the sounds we had heard were the matriarch calling elephants and that they were now encircling our van. At her command they began to move toward us. We were trapped with scrub forest and elephants to the front and on either side - there was nowhere to go except forward into the herd or backward away from them.

Anna caught the beginning of the stampede with her camera - they were coming 

right toward us. She stopped photographing after this shot!

At this point I think we all realized we were not in a good position. Godfrey then did what a clear-thinking guide should do - he reached over, turned on the Land Rover, revved the engine as loudly as possible and DROVE STRAIGHT INTO THE ELEPHANTS. Yes, straight into them. The noise scared the elephants and they began to scatter. I must admit that the 8 seconds it took to get through the herd, watching elephant bodies scatter to the right and left, so close I could almost reach out and touch them, shook me to my core. We all were breathless when we looked back at the scattered herd behind us.

When I told him I was surprised he chose to drive into the herd rather than in reverse he explained why that would have been unwise. He could not see the road - our raised seats blocked his view. He would not be able to avoid scrub growth or depressions in the road. What would most likely happen is that he would hit something and come to a dead stop - not good with elephants coming at you. He did what was best and it ended up being the right decision.

Way too close for comfort.

Incident #2 - Cape Buffalos vs the Mokoros

The next morning Godfrey drove us to the bank of one of the Delta waterways where 5 mokoros awaited us. Mokoros are traditional canoes that ride low in the water and are navigated by guides standing at the back with long poles. Think gondolas in Venice but instead of gorgeous old buildings we traveled through gorgeous passageways in the largest inland delta in the world.

Here we are:  Anna and Kan in the first canoe, Barbara and Sally L. in the second, 
Sally C. and Marsha in the third, and Pattie and I in the fourth. 
Our intrepid guides stand behind us.
Godfrey (not pictured - he took the photo for Anna) poled the fifth canoe with the cooler 

(with supplies for our morning break). 

That canoe would become important after the attack.

The delta is composed of small channels and larger byways of reed-filled water. There are water lilies, flowers and many gorgeous birds. This is, in fact, a paradise for Birders.

Because we were so low in the water we could not see over the reeds although our standing guides could. It was enchanting to be slowly poled through the delta. We called to each other as our canoes silently slid through the water. One canoe would move ahead and then another would pass it by. The guides laughed with each other and us as they shared stories about the delta, pointing out birds and plants and even interesting bugs. All was peaceful and beautiful and right with the world.

Pattie and I in the Delta - Anna's photo, of course.

The first two canoes had moved out of a narrow channel into what was called the "Hippo Highway" - a much wider expanse of water. Anna and Kan, in the third canoe, were just ahead of us in the inlet, ready to move into the Hippo Highway when, in an instant, everything changed. Suddenly we heard a tremendous noise - surging water, calling birds, large animal movements - beyond the reeds over which we could not see. What I remember most is the face of Anna and Kan's guide turning back to our guide saying urgently, "Go back! Go back!" I had no idea what was happening but, from the look on his face, knew it was not good - and we had so little room to maneuver the mokoro in the narrow channel.

It was chaotic for the next 20 seconds (which seemed an eternity) - we heard loud splashing, raised voices, animals rushing and then quiet. The news came back in staccato statements. "Animals", One of the boats!", "They're in the water", "I can't see anything", "Get your boat to the island". I was completely unnerved wondering who had been attacked and by what. I knew it wasn't Anna and Kan -  they were in front of us. As we eventually moved into the Hippo Highway I looked frantically for the others. I spotted Barb and Sally L. and then knew it had to be Sally C. and Marsha. Where were they?

Within seconds I spotted them standing, sopping wet, on a small island where we were soon to dock. We then heard the story. It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and, as our guides told us, had never happened before. Never at this camp or at any other camp they knew about.

It seems that two cape buffalos had come running toward the water and, just as they were ready to enter, reacted to what was different in front of them - Sally and Marsha and their guide in a mokoro. The quick-thinking guide jumped out of the boat and turned it toward the shore so that both women went headfirst into the water. The canoe was then between the women and the animals. The two buffalo ran by, gored the boat, brushed the women underwater and moved on. Godrey and the guide pulled the two women out of the water and deposited Marsha in one of the other mokoros and Sally on the island.

We all soon gathered on the island, shaken. There was the mokoro, pulled up on the shore, with a 3-inch hole gouged in its side. The same horn that made the hole also split one of the two seats down the middle. It is sobering to think about what might have happened if Sally or Marsha had been sitting in that seat or if it had been hippos rather than cape buffalo that attacked. This part of the Delta was full of hippos.

The guides were amazing in how quickly they took charge. They fixed us tea, although I think only Sally and Marsha drank it - it was pushed on them. The two wet women stripped off top layers of clothes while the rest of us peeled off sweaters and jackets to pass over to them. The guides gamely asked us if we wanted to go on but we all agreed that the trip was over, we just wanted to get back to camp. Godfrey took Marsha and Sally back in the canoe with the cooler, the guides would return that afternoon to retrieve the damaged mokoro.

I found myself watching every which way as we were poled back through the delta to where our Land Rover stood. I kept waiting for another animal attack. I think that is why I so carefully watched the hippos while we fished in the Lufupa. I had experienced what animals can do.

By the way, the next morning the other half of the group took the same trip and the story-telling had already begun. They were shown where the cape buffalos entered the water, where the boat was overturned by the guide, the island where we all moved to safety, and given an in-depth description of the destruction of the mokoro. I wonder how soon the story will spread to other camps?

Incident #3 - Lost on the Savanna

The last incident happened the following afternoon, our last day at the Delta camp, when we were off-road, following lion tracks. And this time it wasn't dramatic - no animals, no immediate danger. Instead, it was simple - the Land Rover broke down. Cowboy, our new guide, tried and tried but the engine wouldn't turn over. He radioed camp to speak with the mechanics, tried their ideas and still nothing worked. It would normally not be a big deal but in this case, it was. Sunset was fast approaching. It's not good to be on your own on the savanna after dark - the cats are out hunting. Yes, we were in the vehicle, but it is not the same when the vehicle is broken down. We were fair game. In addition, we were far off- road. We had left the road an hour before the breakdown occurred. I listened to Cowboy call in our location and wondered how they would find us. We were in the middle of scrub forest near nothing that looked like landmarks. He kept referring to the "ridge line" and I looked around wondering to what he referred. Ridge line? Where?

Okay, it's one of my crappy photos, this time of wart hogs - but this is what the area looked like where the van was stuck - nothing significant around us, just scrub forest.

He was also in touch with Godfrey's van. They stopped their animal tracking to track us. So for the next hour we were the target of 2 searches - by the mechanics and Godfrey. None of us in our van talked about the sun as it continued its unrelenting march toward the horizon but I know we were all thinking about it. How much time did we have? What should we do when the sun sets? How do we protect ourselves?

Just as the sun was setting Cowboy straightened up and said, "I hear something." His ears were good - we heard nothing for a few minutes and then, oh so faintly, we heard the sound of an approaching motor. It was the mechanics. The cavalry had arrived with 2 guns attached to the sides of their Land Rover. Phew.

The problem ended up being easy to fix - it was just a fuse - and we were soon on our way. 15 minutes later, however, one of our tires blew - and we had to get out of the van (remember Basic Rule #2 - stay within the outline of the Land Rover?). By that time it was pitch black but Godfrey's van had showed up and we were able to congregate between the two vans while the tire was changed. The 7 group members in Godfrey's Land Rover told us that their hunt for us was the most exciting event they had had at this camp - what a different experience than the one the 8 of us had!

Would I exchange stampeding elephants, marauding cape buffalo, and lost in the savanna for the security of their experience? No, I think not - but, let me add, that's because no one was physically hurt. It could have been oh so very different. What I also appreciated was the response of our group. We know each other, we have travelled together in the past, when one is in danger, we all share it. We want the best for each of us. My kind of travel companions.