The greatest Zoo on Earth
Tanzania 1984
We drove down into what is in effect the biggest zoo on Earth. From the top of the crater there was no sign of the extraordinary wildlife in the pan below. We drove down steep slopes, past primordial tree-like Euphorbias, into the valley of the crater itself and into something out of Eden.
Zebras and wildebeest were grazing right next to the track like cows on the meadows back home. I took out my camera which I had carried all this way with the specially reserved last spool of film and pressed the trigger. Nothing happened. Unmeasurably disappointed I shook the damn thing, then took out my pocket-knife and poked around until it finally ran — for all of thirty seconds. Still, it was something, until I discovered that the film had not run through. Apparently sand had gotten into the apparatus. Because it was my last roll of film, I had not tested the thing earlier. I threw it back into the bag and vowed not to touch it again.
(I rarely took a camera on my travels again. To this day I find that it takes away too much of the actual experience.)
We got within five metres of two lions rolling in the grass, saw buffaloes and big herds of gazelles and stopped at a small lake for lunch, surrounded by flamingoes. A darter stood motionless in the reeds.
Our two black companions, the driver and guide, invited me to eat with them. I used the opportunity to pester the guide with questions. They may have regretted their invitation.
After a brief rest we continued, slowly driving off the track, chasing up a family of warthogs who ran away with their tails pointing straight into the air. We were trying to get closer to a black rhino with her calf.
(Yes, we were molesting the wildlife a little!)
The female turned towards us and threateningly lowered her horn. We stopped. We were maybe twenty metres away.
Our guide whispered that 20 black rhinos remained in the crater compared to only a dozen or so in the whole of the Serengeti due to heavy poaching. The Serengeti is so large and the horns are so valuable that poachers fly in with bush planes from abroad and the rangers simply cannot keep up with them.
We saw another rhinos that day, a young animal a few years old whose mother had been a victim of poachers.
Once again we approached the lake where a pink carpet of flamingoes stretched dramatically against the steep backdrop of the crater walls. The birds seemed to float above the shimmering water on a forest of reedy legs
Facing away from the lake, we could see a few dark dots in the distance.
“Elephants,” the guide said.
“Really?” I teased: “I had no idea that there were elephants in the crater. It isn’tthat big…”
“Not that big?!” the guide growled and was about to rattle off statistics about the dimensions of the crater when I laughed and said I knew full well that there were elephants here.
“About sixty, in fact” he grumbled, somewhat mollified.
The English engineers asked about cheetahs.
“You won’t be lucky,” the guide answered: “I am not down here that often, but it is many months since I last saw a cheetah and I have not heard of any sightings from the other guides.”
Just at that moment we came to an abrupt stop. A spotted cat jumped across the track about 20 m in front of us.
“A leopard”, Maggi shouted.
We slowly rolled closer and briefly spotted the cat among the yellow grass before it disappeared from sight. “No — it’s a cheetah, or is it?”
“It is a cheetah,” the guide conceded: “I’m certain. After all I used to hunt…”
I listened up but he caught himself and would not elaborate further. I wasn’t at all surprised that there were ex-hunters among the guides and park rangers, after all they knew most, not just about the animals but, in the case of rangers, about the poachers and were therefore in the best position to safeguard Tanzania’s natural heritage. There are few conservationists more passionate than a reformed hunter. However, not all of the hunters were ‘reformed’.
“It is a great shame,” I said glancing sideways at the guide:”that these magnificent creatures have been hunted to the brink of extinction.”
“Oh, they’re not that rare,” he answered non-challantly: “It’s just that they are a bugger to spot in the high grass!”
Denni