Africa Day Eight - Afternoon on the River

We ate lunch, which was, as always, delicious - at Chobe Chilwero.

Following the usual course of events, we then encamped for a bit, walking about the camp, going to our various "tents" to change clothes or camera batteries, (always bearing in mind Gavin's warning - "keep your batteries charged. If we happen upon cheetahs mating, and suddenly your camera goes dead, no one is going to feel sorry for you.")

On our way to our tents, we noticed that we were Not Alone. At the edge of the clearing that surrounds the dining area, as we were walking by, there was a rustling and a bustling in the bushes. We all stopped dead, not entirely concerned because of course we knew that THIS camp was surrounded by an electric fence, but mildly worried because we also knew that the baboons were not at all deterred by the electric fence. Gavin had told us that the baboons had figured out within a few moments of the fence going up that it would "give 'em a hair straightener!" but that they had also figured out, very quickly, how to get around it by climbing nearby trees and dropping down on the other side. None of us particularly wanted to get up close and personal with a baboon, after seeing how very large their canines are back at Chief's Camp. And then a bunch of chubby, furry, stripy bodies came tumbling and bumbling out onto the grass.

What's this? Banded Mongooses/Mongeese? (I still haven't figured that one out. Oooo! And apparently, neither has Merriam-Webster.) And in CAMP! We can stare at them at our leisure!!! Argh argh argh so happy!!!

For about an hour Sandy and I watched them playing. It was a huge family group, 15 or 20 individuals at least. They kept moving in and out of the brush nearby which made it hard to get a solid count. Some of them were wearing large tracking collars, and Gavin happened by and commented that they had been, or were still part of, a study.

I was in love.

Look at them! It was like being in the middle of an episode of Meerkat Manor. (Definitely not one of the creepy depressing ones where one female eats all the young of another female, either.) They were playing, and grooming one another, and goofing off. Look at the one lying atop the other in the foreground! They did that all the time - sitting on each other, draping themselves over one another...the mongoose below hopped on top of the other mongoose backwards, and proceeded to clean the other's tail.

Ever since I was a kid reading Rudyard Kipling's Rikki Tikki Tavi, I've had a soft spot for mongeese. It was awesome to watch them so closely.

Mongooses, why are you so awesome?

They moved off into the underbrush after about an hour, so we continued on to our tent. Sandy went out again to talk to one of his siblings about something or other, and came running back to get me almost immediately - the mongeese had moved onto the camp paths right by our tent while they foraged.

They were hunting for the huge black beetles we had seen that morning - the beetles would dig themselves down deeply into the soft sand next to the path, and the mongeese were digging them up and munching on them. That one mongoose to the far right in the picture above has dug himself nearly under the path, on the hunt for beetle.

Success! Bringing home the bacon. Look at the claws on the mongoose! They do not retract, and are used primarily for digging. I love the way the beetle's wing is extended in that photo, also - so fragile. To a beetle, the mongoose must seem like a T-Rex.

Raaaaaaaaaaar!

The mongoose below is giving Sandy's camera the best Hairy Eyeball ever. I love the dirt on his nose.

I call this one, "Beetle - Post Mongoose"

After a bit, the mongeese moved off again and it was time for a quick tea before our afternoon river safari. Sandy was ready to go. So was The Baby.

One of the first things we saw on the river was papyrus. We were all familiar with it from our trip to Egypt the previous spring, but we'd never seen it growing in the wild, as it were. It's beautiful.

I snagged one, and Harley promptly put it on her head.

We took the boat down river to the mingling of the Zambezi and Chobe rivers. Gavin, who is originally from Zimbabwe/Rhodesia, had us all put our hands in the waters of the Zambezi - the waters of his homeland. Which we all did, despite some concerns about crocodiles. We saw the basalt shelves that can make boating at the confluence of the two rivers a bit dangerous, and we knew we'd see the Zambezi again, since we meant to continue on to Zimbabwe next, to visit Victoria Falls. At the confluence, the boat had to work very hard to move back up river - the current was so strong there, and we asked Gavin what happened to folks in boats whose engines died. He said it would be best to get the engine fixed quickly, or hope someone else in a working boat could reach you by intersecting with you down river, or that you could manage to maneuver yourself onto one of the sand islands in the middle of the river, because of course both rivers fed towards Victoria Falls, and nothing which goes over the falls survives.

OooooOOOOOooooo...

I'm pretty sure all of us in our heads were thereafter repeating the litany of the Little Engine that Could as the boat struggled back up the swollen Chobe. It was a relief when we could feel the boat engine begin to work more smoothly, as the confluence receded behind us and the current became a bit less desperate.

Near the confluence we passed the river taxi - a boat that carries Zimbabweans across to Botswana and vice versa for shopping, etc.

In another stand of papyrus, we spotted a kingfisher.

And we passed the local bar...or "beer garden" which had rather unfortunately gotten a bit damp...

And an Anhinga. First of all, I freaking love the name Anhinga. They're also known as the African Snakebird. Unlike many other birds, they have no feather oil, so they're not particularly water resistant and they get water-logged very easily after fishing for their meals, which ruins their heat insulation and prevents them from flying. So between each dive, they have to dry their feathers out again by sunbathing - spreading their wings to let the air and the sun dry them.

Near the Anhinga we passed a group of hippo feeding in the marshy area in the center of the river.

In the background below you can see the Botswana national flag, smack in the middle of the river. It marks the boundary between Botswana and Namibia, when the river is not in spate. There was a border dispute in the recent past between the two countries, over the arable land exposed when the flood waters recede, an island called either Kasikili or Sedudu, depending upon whether you are Namibian or Botswanan. After referring the matter to the International Court of Justice, the ruling was made in favor of Botswana. Thus, the flag - to mark the island as definitively Botswanan.

The hippos obviously do not care if they are on Botswanan or Namibian soil, all they know is, "here's good eatin'."

No one ever taught these hippos to chew with their mouths closed.

Traversing closer to the river bank, we passed a wee baby crocodile - of the size appropriate for hunting birds and small fish.

We happened to see a giraffe emerging from the woods to drink. Shortly after the first giraffe appeared, a second, much younger, giraffe came out to drink also. Between these two giraffe, there was a a curious dance emerging. The elder giraffe, arriving first, spent some time evaluating the water and the surrounding area before assuming the vulnerable position required to drink - splayed legged. The younger giraffe took MUCH longer to feel safe enough to drink, and frequently leapt up again at the slightest noise or at nothing at all, to peer around itself nervously. I was trying to get a photograph of BOTH of them drinking at the same time, and it was proving nearly impossible because the younger one kept leaping at shadows. Then, when the younger one would dip its head to drink, the elder would stand erect, to look around before bending again to drink. Argh!

Meanwhile, the current was carrying us inexorably away from the scene, and I was beginning to think I'd never catch them both in the position I wanted them in.

And then finally they did it.

As they were drinking, a bull elephant came tromping up the bank, and took offense to them using what must be his personal watering hole. He made a dominance display at them, trumpeting and flapping his ears, and then he charged, chasing them off.

If you look, you can see a few hippo, watching the drama unfold from the water.

We watched an elephant taking a mud bath...

He planted his face right in the mud, and then lay down and rolled around a bit.

We passed a group of elephants in a lovely little grotto, drinking. Again, I was desperate to get them all into the same position - trunks up, tipping water down their throats.

Noses down, okay - but I want them UP!

Close, but no cigar...

And this is sort of an adorable shot...they look like a barbershop quartet...

Ahahahahahah! I win!

The sun was sinking toward the horizon but the day was not over yet.

This elephant came down to drink, but he must have felt threatened by all the hippos so close to shore.

He displayed at them, and splashed at them with his trunk, wildly.

They called his bluff, blowing water violently out of their nostrils in huge snorts, and he deflated and walked away.

Sun down over Sedudu

Gavin steers us toward home.

And the moon in the sky waxes towards full - although it would not be entirely full until the night we meant to spend at Victoria Falls. More on this later!