Rhino in the campground at Marakele National Park.
Close Encounters with Africa’s Big Five
Rhino in the campground at Marakele National Park.
The two-ton monster stares at us through the front door of our tiny tent, its long curved horn pointing like a dagger. If that’s not enough to stir us from slumber, four of its buddies have us surrounded. Without warning a scuffle breaks out, sending bits of gravel flying against our tent. Never again will we complain about not getting close enough to rhinos.
Rhinoceros are among Africa’s fabled Big Five, along with elephants, African buffalo, lions, and leopards. The Big Five list originated with the old safari hunters of Africa. Of all the animals they hunted, these five could fight back, and were considered the most dangerous. Today’s safari hunters are more likely armed with binoculars and cameras, but the allure of finding the Big Five remains. Potential dangers also remain.
In major wildlife areas, such as South Africa’s Kruger National Park, you can generally find the Big Five, but seeing all of them is never guaranteed. Elephants and buffalo seem to be everywhere. Spend enough time in the park, and you will almost certainly see lions. Most difficult to find is the elusive and secretive leopard. Even South Africans who frequently visit the park say that they see leopards only on rare occasions.
Wildlife viewing is seldom predictable. Kruger National Park is roughly the size of Wales or Israel, with animals moving around freely. During our first trip to this famous park, the most elusive animal is, surprisingly, our first Big Five sighting. Less than an hour after entering the park, we see something ahead sitting on the side of the road. Grabbing the binoculars, we confirm that it is what we hope – a young leopard. We inch the car slowly forward, hoping not to spook the animal before we get within camera range. Just before we’re close enough, the cat scampers across the road. It stops, turns around and looks at us for about two seconds, just long enough to fire off a couple shots. Then we catch a quick glimpse of something else moving in the bushes, and know why the small cat was headed that way. Its mother is hidden under some branches in a thorny thicket. Almost immediately, both of them melt into the dense bush.
That’s our first and only leopard sighting during 13 days in the park. We see mind-boggling numbers of wildlife – giraffes, zebras, hippos, hyenas, jackals, warthogs, monkeys, baboons, wildebeest, impalas, kudus…the list goes on. The phenomenal birdlife includes everything from enormous eagles, hawks, and herons to brilliant rollers and bee-eaters looking like they’ve been dipped in paint. Most of the Big Five reveal themselves – elephants and buffalo galore, and a fair number of lions. Rhinos, however, elude us. The odd ones we glimpse are either far in the distance, or completely obscured by dense vegetation. It isn’t until our last day in the park that a lone male white rhino saunters out of the bush to graze close to the road.
The largest and most numerous of the world’s five rhino species, everything about the “white” is massive, from its weight that can top two and a half tons, length up to four metres, and folded skin resembling armour plating. Despite the name, the white rhino isn’t white, but a medium grey that is similar in colour to its smaller cousin, the black rhino, which likewise isn’t black. It was Dutch settlers who named the bigger rhino for its wide mouth that is tailor-made for grazing. The black rhino, on the other hand, has a narrower pointed upper lip that's better suited to browsing leaves. Somewhere along the way, the English word white came into use, since it sounds similar to the Dutch word for wide.
The gargantuan grass-eating machine seems to completely ignore us as he munches steadily, his heavy head seldom leaving the ground. It’s a long, curious-looking head, topped by ears that stick straight up, eyes that are unusually low set, and great curved horns that are both its defining feature and its curse. Watching and photographing this fascinating creature is a highlight of the trip, leaving us with a taste for more.
We get our wish. Future trips to Kruger as well as to other parks reward us with exceptional rhino encounters. At Crocodile Bridge, the southern-most rest camp of Kruger Park, a half dozen or so rhinos, including a mother and half-grown calf, stay close by and show themselves every day, occasionally stopping traffic as they slowly wander across the road.
Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Park in South Africa's KwaZulu Natal province near the Indian Ocean has a special link with rhinos, both as an excellent place to find them today and for its historic role in bringing these animals back from the brink of extinction. Rhinos were once common to many parts of Africa, but during the 20th century, they came close to disappearing. Work done here in protecting the rhinos, then relocating animals to repopulate other parks, is credited with much of their resurgence in numbers. Today, Africa has around 20,000 rhinos, with over 90% in South Africa. While this is only a fraction of their historic numbers, wildlife managers were encouraged that at least the trend was heading in the right direction.
Unfortunately, in recent years rhino poaching has reached alarming levels. In 2007, 13 rhinos were poached in South Africa. The number soared to 448 in 2011, then to 668 in 2012. The horns can be worth $60,000 per kilogram, more than their weight in gold. It’s been called the most expensive illegal substance in the world. Rhino horns have long been prized for dagger handles in parts of the Middle East, but the most serious threat comes from demand in Asia where rhino horn is thought to have medicinal properties. Increasing affluence in Southeast Asia, and especially in Vietnam, has spurred a thriving and lucrative black market. Despite the claims of medicinal properties, scientists say that consuming rhino horn, which is composed of keratin, has about the same medicinal value as eating fingernails. Newscasts are filled with reports of shoot-outs between park rangers and highly sophisticated bands of poachers. The situation has become so critical that it is thought that, after many years of success in restoring rhino numbers, they may once again be headed for the brink.
The poaching problem is never far behind the scenes in the parks. Armed rangers patrol, but in huge parks such as Kruger, they can’t be everywhere at once. We stop at the Pufuri Picnic Site in the far northern reaches of Kruger Park and chat with the attendant living on site. This looks like an idyllic job, living on the bank overlooking the Luvuvhu River in the midst of some of the most gorgeous countryside, surrounded by wildlife. Idyllic on the surface, yes, but he confesses that his biggest worry is being shot by poachers if they ever decide to come this way.
Another change in recent years has been to the “sightings boards”, a fixture in most wildlife parks in South Africa. These are bulletin board-sized maps of the park’s road network. Each major wildlife species is assigned a coloured magnet (red for lions, yellow for leopards, and so on), so when guests return to camp, they can indicate where they saw various animals by putting a coloured magnet on the approximate area. This in turn helps other visitors learn where wildlife has been seen. The magnets for rhinos have been removed; it was just too easy for poachers to benefit from this information.
More than anywhere in Africa, wildlife parks in South Africa are well set up for independent, do-it-yourself wildlife viewing. Heavily used by South Africans, the parks have developed infrastructure making it fairly easy to drive on your own, and stay in park rest camps which often have a variety of accommodation ranging from swanky air-conditioned bungalows to simple huts to campgrounds. While many visitors tour around on guided safari excursions, we much prefer the freedom of the do-it-yourself option, deciding where we want to go and spending as much time as we like in a spot. All visitors have to be back in camp during strictly enforced gate closing times, which more or less coincide with sunrise and sunset. To see any of the park after dark, the only option is taking a guided excursion operated by the park.
In wildlife parks, you are allowed to get out of your car only at designated spots. The reasons are obvious – you could be eaten. But even in the relative safety of your car, you have to be careful around certain animals. While lions are the predators that immediately spring to mind, lions and other big cats tend not to be a threat if you stay in your car. Lions have often walked right beside our car, where they would be close enough to reach out and touch (not a good idea). While most other animals don’t like to get too close to people, lions aren’t afraid of anything, including people and their cars. They go where they want, when they want. If they happen to think that now is a good time to take a nap in the middle of the road, that’s exactly what they’ll do. Let the traffic go around.
Buffalo, weighing up to two tons, have to be given a wide berth, especially old males on their own that tend to be grumpy and bad-tempered. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of their thick horns that resemble battering rams adorned with sharp points.
The animals we worry about most when driving are elephants. They appear docile and easy-going as they move, usually slowly, while browsing the bushes. But you never know what they might do. There’s a widely circulating video on YouTube showing an elephant-car confrontation at Pilanesberg Game Reserve. Elephants are walking down the road toward the car, and the driver stops and waits for the elephants to pass by (another not so good idea). Without warning, one of the elephants takes a dislike to the car, and effortlessly pushes it to the side and rolls it over.
Occasionally elephants show obvious signs of aggression. We see a prime example at a waterhole in Addo Elephant National Park. Workers are at the waterhole with a backhoe doing some digging and maintenance. When a group of females and young arrive, they sense something out of the ordinary and quickly move on. Then a lone male comes by, one of the biggest elephants we've ever seen. Obviously shocked and appalled at the disturbance, he shakes his head violently, flaps his ears, flings his trunk, and moves as if he doesn’t know where to lash out. We move out of this guy's way in a hurry.
If elephants are feeding right beside the road, we often have to wait until they move back before we attempt to drive by. One time in Kruger National Park we come around a corner on a minor road to find a herd of elephants crossing almost immediately in front of us. No problem, we’ll just back up to give them some room and wait it out. But as we start backing up, there’s the other half of the herd crossing right behind us. We’re sandwiched in the middle with nowhere to go. They take their time crossing, and fortunately ignore us.
Rhinos don't tend to be aggressive to people or cars, but here too, you never know. They usually move slowly, but can run close to 60 km/hour. A few years ago a friend returned from South Africa with a story of a black rhino that attacked a car. It rammed its long sharp horn into the front of the car, got it jammed in the radiator, and couldn’t get it free. In frustration it shook its head up and down, lifting the car part way up each time, until it finally shook itself loose. Black rhinos have a reputation for being more unpredictable and bad-tempered, while the larger and more numerous white rhinos are generally more temperate.
We have never felt threatened by a rhino when driving through wildlife parks, although we’re also careful to keep a respectful distance. On a trip to Pilanesberg Game Reserve, we see rhinos every day, but each time they are either too far away or hidden behind thick vegetation for good photos. Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for. One day we’re driving along a twisting minor road through dense bush, doing no more than 20 km/hour. Coming around a sharp turn, we suddenly drive right into a small group of rhinos. We’re not sure who is more startled, us or them. At the same instant, they quickly jump off both sides of the road and we back up in a hurry. Fortunately, they don't turn aggressive and soon continue grazing, while we wait far back until they wander away from the road.
It’s more than the Big Five that visitors are after. Cheetahs are another favourite, the fastest animals in the world, capable of short bursts of speed over 100 km/hour. While they primarily hunt early or late in the day, they also hunt more often in the daytime than other big cats. This doesn’t mean that they’re easy to find. While not as elusive as leopards, sightings are always special.
Among the most sought-after wildlife, outside of the Big Five, is the African wild dog. Once widespread throughout sub-Saharan Africa, they are now among the most endangered animals, with an estimated total population of little more than 5,000 in the entire continent. About the size of a border collie, they are a beautiful mottled black, white, yellow, and brown. Sometimes called “painted wolves”, they are completely different creatures from both wolves or domestic dogs.
Considered the most social of all canids or dog-like animals, wild dogs are almost always in groups. They hunt cooperatively as a pack. We are fortunate to come across them occasionally in Kruger National Park, usually resting and sleeping right beside the road. One evening we find a pack only a half-hour before the gates close for the evening. We don’t have much time, but we have them all to ourselves, with no other cars around. They’re playing on and near the road, wrestling with each other, grooming, and just wandering around. They are so close that we could reach out to touch them (definitely not a good idea). You could be fooled into thinking that they’re just cute puppy dogs. But when they open their mouths to yawn, the powerful jaws reveal rows of brilliant white sharp teeth, tailor-made for tearing things to bits.
Dogs usually hunt in early morning or evening, but in Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Park we happen across a pack of 22 on the hunt during a cool rainy afternoon. Coming to a crossroad, we see the pack run past on the other road. We follow as they run slowly for a while, stop for a few seconds while some dogs make brief forays into the bush, then quickly return to the road. They are being very quiet; it’s obvious that they are after something. This goes on for two or three kilometres, then just ahead of the dogs, a couple impala are spooked and try making a run for it. The chase is on, as the dogs spread out to attack from different angles. The first impala practically takes flight as it makes a powerful leap across the road with unbelievable speed and barely escapes. The second one isn’t so lucky. The dogs hit it in mid-leap and several converge on it, seemingly tearing it to pieces before it even hits the ground. No longer quiet, the dogs growl as if in a feeding frenzy; individuals quickly make off with various parts. One dog disappears carrying a leg, while two others rip apart innards, their faces dripping red with blood.
The only other vehicle around is a truck driven by a researcher who is studying wild dogs. Talking to her afterwards brings home just how unusual our encounter has been. After tracking this pack for several months, this is the first time she's seen them make a kill close to the road. A rare encounter with life and death in the African bush.
In most South African wildlife parks, the rest camps are fenced with electric wires so you can sleep with the assurance that nothing will eat you or trample you in the middle of the night. Some rest camps, such as in Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Park and parts of Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park in the Kalahari Desert, have unfenced rest camps. But these consist of fixed-roof accommodation such as chalets, or fairly substantial safari tents with slightly raised wooden platforms, and attached kitchens and bathrooms so you don’t have to go out at night.
So it is with our safari tent at Impila Camp in Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Park. Because it’s unfenced, various critters occasionally wander by – zebra, nyala, and especially impala. One day we see a group of a dozen or so impala relaxing in the shade, only 10 metres away.
The barbecue stand is on the ground, just down from the platform deck between the main part of the tent and the kitchen. Our first evening there, we put skewers of meat on the barbecue, and keep a close eye while sitting on the deck, no more than two metres away. It didn’t take long; just a couple moments of inattention while refilling a wine glass. Turning back to the barbecue, we look in horror as a fully grown spotted hyena, its gaping powerful mouth wide open, is about to clamp down on our supper. We both start yelling and it immediately takes off, its nose bumping the grill a bit, definitely upset at being forced to leave without its almost stolen meal. The following nights, we stay close to the barbecue, never taking our eyes off it. The hyena makes the rounds every night, quietly lurking in the shadows and watching to assess its chances before moving on to the next camp. It probably makes an easy living, since sizzling meat on the “braai” is practically mandatory for South Africans on holiday. The park posts warning signs to watch out for hyenas, and not to feed them, but there’s bound to be somebody not paying close attention.
As a general rule, campgrounds where you can pitch your own tent are only located in fenced rest camps in South African wildlife parks. Marakele National Park, in the Waterberg Mountains north of Pretoria, is an exception. A fence divides the two areas of the park. One part has all of the Big Five – a mountainous, heavily forested area where the only accommodation is permanent safari tents.
A wildlife highlight in this section is seeing the world’s largest colony of endangered cape vultures. To get there we follow a long, winding, and steep one-lane road to the top of the highest mountain. The road is so narrow that it takes some tricky manoeuvring to pass an oncoming car without going over the edge. Fortunately, traffic is light. Not only do we have sweeping views from the top, but also have a reasonably close look at these increasingly rare birds. Cape vultures are among Africa’s bigger raptors, found only in the southern part of the continent. With wingspans that can stretch over eight feet, they effortlessly soar high above the mountain tops, occasionally swooping down if they spot something edible.
The other part of the park is in the Kwaggasvlakte Plains, with a wide variety of wildlife, but just one of the Big Five – rhinos. The only accommodation option here is an unfenced campground. We set up our tent among the other tents, trailers, and truck campers, and can’t help but notice that ours is the smallest tent by far. The campground looks over a waterhole in the distance, and throughout the afternoon we watch animals come and go, mostly zebra and kudus. Since there are no big predators such as lions and leopards, the wildlife tends to be more relaxed and less afraid. Slowly but surely, some animals make their way into the campground. Ostrich are the most common visitors. Quite bold, they wander fairly close to people, always on the lookout for unattended food. These flightless birds seem even bigger and more imposing close up, their heads stretching nine feet or nearly three metres above the ground.
Close to evening, we see a mother rhino and half-grown calf drinking at the waterhole. We set up our longest telephoto lens and start photographing as they slowly munch on grass practically non-stop. They keep walking in our direction, and soon we have to switch to a shorter lens. Eventually, they walk right to the edge of the campground. Most campers gather around to watch, and the rhinos look back, making it difficult to know who is watching whom. Finally, the rhinos get bored and slowly disappear into the forest.
We’re thrilled with this close encounter. But when we chat with the campers next to us, we learn that this was pretty tame. Bryan and Liz are from Cape Town, and have already been here for a couple days. They tell us that the night before, rhinos walked right into camp and grazed next to their tent. For some reason, the rhinos have decided that the campground is an integral part of their daily grazing route, even though there’s plenty of grass elsewhere.
Going to sleep, we assume that the rhinos have had their campground visit that day and are off exploring greener pastures. It’s still dark at 4:00 am, but we awake to obvious crunching noises and footsteps of something big. Really big. The rhinos are back, grazing just outside, the sound very much like cattle eating grass, only louder. The weather is hot, so we've left all the tent flaps open, with only thin mosquito screen between us and the outside world. We count five monsters surrounding our tent. Rhinos look imposing anytime, but a sight we’ll never forget is looking up at them while we’re lying on the ground.
The huge animals aren’t at all aggressive, and fortunately they are walking around the tents rather than over them. Then suddenly a scuffle breaks out right in front of our tent. Why, we don’t know. There’s snorting and stamping of feet so close that bits of gravel splatter on the front of the tent. Looking out, we see one rhino facing us, its lethal horn pointed directly at us. The next campsite has a light on, so when the rhino turns sideways, the profile of the curved horn throws a shadow that completely fills our tent door. It feels like something straight out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie, like the knife about to slash through the shower curtain. There is nothing we can do but wait it out and hope for the best. Fortunately, the animals soon quiet down, continue munching grass for a few more minutes, then eventually wander off. It takes longer for our heart rates to quiet down.
So what would sane, rational people do when faced with such an experience? We’re not sure what they would do. We, on the other hand, decide to stay another night. But tonight, it's time to reinforce the campsite. We park the car immediately next to the tent. On the opposite side, we roll the remains of a dead tree trunk with a protruding branch. At the back of the tent, we put up our lawn chairs, then break out laughing as we think about the absurdity of it all. Yeah, right, nothing like flimsy lawn chairs to stop raging rhinos dead in their tracks! But all we’re trying to do is discourage them from standing too close to the tent while grazing, and judging from last night’s visit, they weren’t disturbing anything around camp. As we look around the sites, other campers have devised similar “barriers”.
We sleep most of the night, then suddenly awake to a commotion outside. It’s the distinctive call of zebras, their strange yelp sounding somewhat like a dog with hiccups. Several of the striped horse-like creatures walk through the campground, and are having an argument among themselves.
The sun is shining next time we awake. Looking out the front of the tent, we see that the rhinos are back, six of them this time, grazing on the edge of the campground but slowly working their way toward us. As they inch closer, we decide it's safest to get out of the tent and be ready to jump into the car if they come too close. Slowly but surely they keep coming – munch, munch, closer, closer. One male rhino about 10 metres away looks up and stares straight at us. We get in the car, as he continues to stare. Clearly, something about us is either troubling him or making him curious. After an uncomfortably long time of staring, he resumes eating and they all slowly move on.
Later we have tea with Liz and Bryan in the next site who had slept through that morning’s visitation while the rhinos grazed beside their tent. We mention that we’ll be moving on that afternoon.
“Oh, we were hoping you'd stay longer,” says Liz. “Now we’ll have the smallest tent!”
Rhino crossing the road in Kruger National Park.
Mating lions in Kruger National Park.
A car is dwarfed by a bull elephant in Addo Elephant National Park.