May 2006
I came across a well-known investment broker’s newsletter the other day, not quite the sort of reading material I usually digest. However, in amongst the projections, performance graphs, and tables of mathematical hieroglyphics, the sort of stuff that only Deloitte and Touche and the boffins of the accounting world can decipher, I found an interesting article written in lay terms which alluded to certain similarities that I could relate to.
The discussion centred on the steady rise in our local markets and the factors thought to be responsible for the recent positive trend. What I found most interesting were those factors that were expected to have a negative effect. For example, the AIDS pandemic, our increasing crime rate, the influx of illegal immigrants, local power demand exceeding supply, the Zimbabwe issue, local land claims and the Zuma trial, to mention just a few. All negative factors? Well, yes, but all of which appeared to have little or no effect as local and foreign investors still pour money into the market with confidence.
Investment analysts appear reluctant to make long-term projections, and clients are understandably insecure, asking their brokers questions like ‘how long before things go pear-shaped?’, ‘how long before the inevitable levelling-off or drop?’, and ‘how best can I prepare for it?’ Even the layman knows this positive trend cannot continue indefinitely.
What has this got to do with Olifants? Well …
I find myself asking the same question an insecure investor might ask: ‘When is the bubble going to burst?’ Continuous feedback from members is that the game viewing is better than they can remember. Those who keep records say there has been a steady increase in the quantity and quality of game each time they visit, and this in spite of the following factors which should have produced a bear market in terms of game viewing … but didn’t.
We know that the removal of the Klaserie fence was an ecological and conservation milestone, but the relatively low numbers of plains game in Klaserie at the time meant that there was more grazing available across the border. We all thought that our drought-stressed game would realise this and migrate, thereby effectively diluting the numbers on our reserve. Except for a couple of rhino, this doesn’t appear to have happened.
We know that years of drought which led to desperately dry conditions and the lack of vegetation should have taken their toll. Again, this doesn’t appear to have happened. We also know that the increase in train traffic could scare game away from the railway line which bisects our reserve. Except for the occasional inevitable casualty, this doesn’t appear to have happened. In fact, dare I say it, you can almost always anticipate a good game drive along the railway line service road.
We know that Easter is normally the busiest time of the year, with more shareholders making use of the reserve than at any other time. This means more vehicles cruising around on drives, supposedly disturbing game and causing them to retreat into the thickets. Once again, this doesn’t appear to have happened. (In 2009, nature’s Easter present to us was a rash of leopard sightings and the return of wild dog to Olifants.)
No matter how many expected negatives I produce, the negative effects seem virtually non-existent. This season’s unusually high rainfall has resulted in tall grass growth, as well as dense shrub and tree foliage, all of which effectively screens game from view, yet even this appears to have had little effect, as reports of good general game viewing continue to be recorded in the game sightings register. The abundant rainfall also meant that all the natural waterholes, pans and wallows that are hidden from view are holding water. The riverbeds and drainage lines are so saturated, that digging down a few centimetres produces sweet clear water. Why would animals trek to known waterholes with curious onlookers around, when they could drink unobserved and far from the madding crowd? Again, this did not affect the viewing negatively as expected. The artificial water points were as productive as ever.
I must reiterate that seeing the Big Five is not a scientifically accepted criterion for rating an area’s ecological productivity, nor is it everybody’s measure of a good game viewing experience, though it remains a recognised yardstick in the bush. In a sense, the Big Five give an impression, or rough gauge, of the ‘naturalness’ or ‘wildness’ of an area, particularly if they’re endemic and free-roaming. Some of our shareholders are getting even cheekier, having chalked up the Magnificent Seven. For the uninitiated, that’s the Big Five plus wild dog and cheetah!
At the risk of sounding like a cautious investment advisor, I suggest that you ‘hedge’ your expectations and spread your viewing portfolio to include a spread from the many other fascinating aspects of Olifants. Don’t expect a Big Five return each time you invest in a game drive, because if you do, like the stock market, there are going to be times of little or no return, and in spite of my limited knowledge of things fiscal, I can make that prediction with a fair amount of certainty.
Even for those of us whose wealth is measured in African sunsets, the Olifants stock market will always offer something of value, and just like the JSE, the harder you work on your investment, the more you’ll get out of it.