Sep 9 12

Tsavo National Park, Kenya

Marcelo

Tsavo West National Park – Land of Lions and Lava

By: Celeste

ellies having a thrash

 

Honeycombed, scorched rocks crunch and inch away from our footfalls – only our steps breaking the arid silence. The stark, black cone of the Chaimu Crater rises out of the scrubland where few plants survive; however the spec ialised  Ginger bush (Tetradenia riperia) with its toothed leaves thrives. The walk is hot from above and below, permeating our shoes. Legends abound about its ‘recent’ eruption, passed down orally.

 

Celeste enjoying the underwater hide

In utter contrast we sit in a glass and metal bubble sunk into the fresh Mzima Springs at its source. The turquoise fish are eating ants fed to them onto the meniscus by Danica and Nicolai. A visiting New Yorkan, in a funky hat, was tickled pink and in no time, the kids took the gap and regaled her with stories of our trip, our home in S.A., the Rhino Rescue Project and every other imaginable titbit of information.  Gwyn was interested, and interesting. She and her husband, Larry were on a safari staying at the luxurious tented Finch Hatton’s Camp having previously visited Kenya thirty years ago.

Gwyn, Larry & family - crocodile skeletons on Mzima trail

This oasis of crystal clear water bursts out of the ground at a rate of 250 million litres a day creating a lush woodland, a beating heart in the dry surrounds. A portion of this water is piped all the way to Mombasa some 200km away on the coast. We walked the Mzima nature trail together, delighting in our mutual enthusiasm at spotting hippos, African Fish Eagles, a pair of Giant Kingfishers, vervet and blue monkeys – at their most innocent and relaxed on the low fever tree branches.

Mzima Springs were made famous by an Alan Root Wildlife film entitled Mzima: Portrait of a Spring, which followed the underwater lives of crocodiles and hippos. So the underwater hide was built for this purpose. Haunt of the River Horse, a BBC production was filmed here too, while the Ghost and the Darkness was the cinematic portrayal of the infamous man-eaters of Tsavo, adapted from the Lt Col. J.H. Patterson book.  This tells the true events which occurred in 1898 as the so-called ‘lunatic line’ was being built from Mombasa to Lake Victoria. Carried off by night from their tents, twenty eight Indian workers and unknown numbers of local man were devoured by lions. Riddled with bullet holes courtesy of the Colonel, the two pelts were stuffed and are now housed in the Chicago Field Museum of Africa.

Although Tsavo National Park was established in 1948, hunting and poaching continued unabated in the area. From 1973- 1989 an average of 5000 elephants were killed each year while the black rhino was poached to the brink of extinction. To Kenya’s credit, in 1986 with three captured rhinos, the Ngulia Rhino Sanctuary was started. This 80 square kilometre protected, monitored and electrified area is now a haven for 78 Northern Black Rhinos. We were very disappointed not to view any despite driving around the sanctuary for two hours (hours are restricted daily from 4-6 pm). We did see the beright, beautiful but poisonous Boophane plants, triumphantly red against the brown, dusty bushland. Marcelo met with senior game wardens to discuss the Rhino Rescue Project both here and at the Mtito Andei Gate H/Q.

The lesser kudu with their eleven-striped flanks and paler grey than their greater cousins, skittishly turns into the rocks and trees. Flocks of yellow-necked spurfowl forage along the roadside. As we retreat for the night to the lodge, successive herds of elephants range over

the dimunitive tree hyrax

the dry land, matriarchs rubbing themselves against the rocks then approaching the waterhole, slaking their thirst. Youngsters don’t seem to know whether playing in the dust or drinking takes priority. Plump Southern Tree Hyraxes (Dendrohyrax arboreus) scamper below the deck allowing us a view of their cream-coloured dorsal stripe.

Leopard tree

Past Rhino Loop we bypass our marked GPS point of Leopard Tree where a lazing specimen spread herself out yesterday on the branch overhead, half expecting here to still be there. But the small river traversing the dryness is understandably the biggest drawcard. A saddle-billed stork stalks and preens and parades and catches. The pride of four still-somewhat-spotted lion cubs and their mother have also caught – a waterbuck on the edge of the waterhole, devouring it with relish, their entire heads entering the body cavity, manes matted with blood. The crunching of bones is loud and clear. Even whist munching, their ears perk up at a pair of impala coming to drink. A short charge ensues but the youngsters still have a lot to learn.

failed hunt - orchestrated by sub-adults

 

this female had been injured (neck) in a skirmish & was battling to stave off infection

A lone female lion approaches from the right. She has a red wound on her neck and she is thin, as if she is losing form from lack of food. Was she part of the pride? Was she left behind when they went hunting and has now caught up? Or was she from another pride? Or alone? Would they allow her to feed? Well, not exactly a purring-friendly greeting but snarling and growling she fed from one side while the adult female growl-fed from the other. Questions remain unanswered.

lioness approaching her waterbuck she'd killed the night before

The hyenas are around at the dawn show for Danica and Marcelo, lured back for the continuation of the drama. Later, the waterbuck is an island in the water, one cub atop, pulling, rolling, tearing. Did her mother not tell her not to play with her food?

saddlebill having a fish

A real little Sand Puppy (Heterocephalus glaber) was shown to us by a ranger at the Man-Eater Shop and Information Centre. Its pink and wrinkled, folded, foetal skin looked too big for him. It is hard to imagine that these so-called naked mole rats are celebrated as a prime example of a highly social mammal which exhibits division of labour, as in bees.  As we exit the park, another diminutive form, the African Pygmy Falcon whistles its high-pitched chip-chip farewell.

 

The South Coast of Mombasa

Our stay for two nights at the self-catering Coral Cove Cottages felt like a step out of time – back about 40 years to the days of free-love and hippies.  Crumbling at the edges as if succumbing to the coastal bush, they are cloaked in sarongs inside and frangipani flowers outside. The friendly, ever-hungry cat completes the homely feel. Right on the edge of the sea, we spent many hours pottering in the rockpools across the large shelf created by the Diani Coral Reef. Like solid book-ends, either end of the beach were black, lava rocks, undercut by the oceans pounding force.  

Marcelo went for a dive with the hugest- he- has- ever- seen Leatherback Turtle and two fellow South Africans – such friendly people! Dieter and Uwe, from German descent, ja. They and their wives had taken a six week break and had travelled in their two tent-topped 4x4s from the land down south. Wonderbaar! Eyes twinkling, their joy in life was palpable and age-defying. Hats off to you.

Entering the line, a bus displaying the slogan: ‘Patience is a virtue’ pushes in front of us at the sign disallowing such behavior. Back across the Likoni Ferry we headed up the north coast over the Nyali Bridge, leaving lively, humid, bustling, old-new Mombasa behind.

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