Mangwanani! Mana Pools

Morning! The early bird catches the worm. We’d be there when the gates opened. That’s what we thought. But of course, in Africa, that seldom happens. We couldn't have known that the fuel shortages were about to begin. Eventually, we made it to the Mana Gate, and then we had to negotiate the incredibly rutted and corrugated dirt roads. After 3 hours on the road, we spotted the office. Hoorah! We’d made it in one piece.

The joy of having a camper van must surely be the quick setup once you arrive at your destination. One, two, three. Up goes the gazebo. Then out come the fold-up table and chairs, the tablecloth goes on, and the barman is ready to serve ice-cold drinks. No fuss, no bother.

(Wildlife photographer Trevor Beckett took the photograph of the Honey Badger)

Although we were fully aware that spring in Mana was eventful, we had no idea we’d have an elephant at our campsite almost every day, especially in the early mornings and late afternoons, when wildlife is most active. There we were, having a quiet lunch facing the river’s sluggish meander, when Butch announced, “Maricha, there’s an elephant behind you!” He wasn’t behind me; he was virtually on top of me.

In one leap, I went from my chair into the Honey Badger’s front seat. Butch was a little more composed and received a slobbery, wet nuzzle on his sleeve from the Big Guy. He was very interested in our lunch. With presence of mind, Butch showed him he was bigger by lifting his arms and shooing him off. He took the rebuff in his stride, turned around and ambled off. But in his wake, he’d overturned a chair and our dishwashing stand, sending crockery and cutlery flying.

After that leisurely but very eventful luncheon, and once we’d restored order and stopped chattering like magpies, we headed out on our first game drive. The day had only just begun, and if one could measure the adrenaline rushes in the first few hours, we were in for the time of our lives.

My eyes were peeled, my camera ready, and I was loaded for the first shot. We’d hardly done 3 km when Butch piped up, “Maricha, look! A Boomslang is looking at me.” I don’t do snakes. In fact, I suffer from Ophidiophobia and display all the classic signs, including anxiety attacks, screaming, crying, difficulty breathing, trembling, and increased heart rate, all in a matter of seconds.

 I don’t know which made Butch more nervous: me or the snake slithering out from behind the side mirror along the outer edge towards us and the open window! Butch acted quickly and rolled up the window. He knew his life was at stake. This didn’t put Mr. Snake off.

In fact, it encouraged him to slither up onto the roof of the truck. To cut a long story short, Butch, with the help of four nervous guides, thoroughly inspected the vehicle and declared it safe and free of adders. I had my doubts, but kept schtum.

Why visit Mana Pools in September? This is when elephants and other wildlife actively feed on the dry Acacia albida pods, which locals hold sacred. The landscape is often drier, and animals congregate around the remaining water sources, making sightings more predictable. Visiting in September offers a unique opportunity to witness these feeding behaviours and experience the park's vibrant wildlife activity at its peak.

A valuable medicinal herb is reported to act as an emetic in fevers (Masai) and is taken for diarrhoea in Tanganyika. It is also used for colds, diarrhoea, haemorrhage, and ophthalmic conditions in West Africa. The bark of the Ana tree is a folk remedy for diarrhoea among several tribes. On the Ivory Coast, it is used for leprosy. The bark decoction curtails nausea. A liniment, made by steeping the bark, is used for bathing and massage in pneumonia. The bark infusion is used for difficult delivery and as a febrifuge for coughs (Irvine, 1961). African women and children wear pods as charms to avert smallpox.

Watching elephants teach their calves to disembark and gather pods highlights animals' instinctive intelligence and encourages respect and admiration in readers.

Watching wild dog pups emerge from dens and learn to hunt highlights the value of wildlife conservation and inspires admiration and respect.

The African wild dog (Lycaon pictus), also known as the painted hunting dog, painted wolf, African hunting dog or African painted dog, is a canid native to sub-Saharan Africa. It is the largest member of its family and the only extant member of the genus Lycaon, which is distinguished from Canis by dentition highly specialised for a hypercarnivorous diet and the absence of dewclaws.

The IUCN classified it as endangered in 2016, as it had disappeared from much of its original range. The 2016 population was estimated at roughly 39 subpopulations containing 6,600 adults, only 1,400 of which were reproductive. These populations continue to decline because of habitat fragmentation, human persecution, and disease outbreaks.

The African wild dog is highly social, living in packs with separate dominance hierarchies for males and females. Uniquely among social carnivores, females, rather than males, leave the natal pack once sexually mature, and the young are allowed to feed first on carcasses. The species is a specialised diurnal antelope hunter, catching prey by chasing them to exhaustion.

Like other canids, it regurgitates food for its young, but this behaviour also extends to adults and forms the bedrock of African wild dog social life. It has few natural predators, though lions are a major source of mortality and spotted hyenas are frequent kleptoparasites (Wikipedia).

We were fortunate to observe these spectacular animals from a distance on occasion. We were told that the pack had been reduced to 4 adults (1 female and three males) last year. The female produced a litter of 5 pups. A few weeks ago, we were told that lions had hunted all the pups. Whether this is true is unclear, as rumours abound on the bush telegraph.

Because the rainy season had yet to begin, expected only in October/November, there was very little water inland. Grazing was poor, so herds of zebra, impala, buffalo, gemsbok, kudu, etc., moved down to the river and the famous Mana Pools, home to crocodiles and teeming with pods of hippos—an exceptional time to view game up close.

Mana Pools is renowned and unique for encouraging guests to walk in the veld. Many animal species have become quite habituated and allow guides and guests to move freely to observe them.

It is accepted that people on foot will always be mindful and respectful, and will NEVER enter an animal’s space unexpectedly, causing harm or provoking retaliation. It is accepted that animals are aware of us long before we notice them, but sometimes both parties can be surprised; that is when humans become endangered. To outrun a wild animal is pointless, and if one’s not careful, you could become that day’s meal!

We had four weeks to observe, enjoy, laze around, de-stress, and be in nature. We were ready to give it our best shot. Everyone who’s been to Mana will tell you about the unique light. During the dry season, animals, vehicles, and feet kick up a lot of dust. The dusty haze envelops everything, and at sunrise and sunset, during the golden and blue hours, the forests seem shrouded in blue.

While we were there, a bush fire raged for two weeks on the Zambian side of the river, burning everything in its path from west to east before turning on itself. The air was thick with smoke, which added another dimension to sunsets and sunrises. The Zambezi River would quite literally be a river of gold, blood red or coppery orange as the sun broke through the haze.

Herds of elephants, antelope, buffalo, and impala all impressed us with their antics.

The Pools were inundated with large pods of hippopotami, crocodiles and water birds.  To see hippos grazing on the riverbank was unusual during the heat of the day.

Birds were plentiful, although we were disappointed by the few raptors and the very few lilac-breasted rollers (my favourite). Carmine bee-eaters were arriving for their summer visit, and we saw a few nesting on the riverbank.

The leopards eluded us, and we weren’t lucky enough to see them, though we did have a few lovely encounters with different prides of lions. One particular pride had our full attention while we picnicked one day. As we settled to have our lunch, they came trooping past, sending Marie’s brunch into orbit.

Monkeys kept us on our toes as they raided open tents, unattended vehicles, and any food they could snatch in seconds. Thank you very much. The newborns fascinated me this time; they’re so photogenic. Their ears are almost translucent. They’re inquisitive, bright as buttons, affectionate and cute as can be.

I loved our early-morning game-viewing trips, where we’d hike out, sometimes to see the dogs, sometimes to follow a herd of buffalo, or to observe elephants performing their circus acts, Boswell standing on his hind legs to reach the highest branches of trees.

Sundowner drives are always spectacular because the skies take centre stage, with jewel-coloured light lighting the sky, reflecting in the water, and turning the forests into a fairyland.

Some of the most spectacular trees grow in the park, and they're irresistible. Hugging a tree becomes a compulsion as the energy they exude touches us inexplicably. They are remarkable. There is a fear that pods consumed by elephants will prevent seeds from sprouting and new stock from taking root. Young plants are also quickly spotted and are favourites among elephants and other grazers.

I spent some of my favourite hours at our camp, where warthogs, monkeys, elephants, squirrels, and impala constantly entertained us. Being able to sit back, work on my computer, and look up to enjoy nature was unbelievably special. The quiet is addictive, and we’d sometimes just read, nap, or snap photos in our hammock or in a director’s chair, depending on our mood.

Here is a short video of an unexpected encounter with an elephant.

Although I found four weeks at Mana Pools a tad long, three weeks would’ve been enough to get a good feel for this special place. It’s only now, back home and working on my photographs, that I feel nostalgic.

We experienced a very emotional few minutes as we departed; the dogs came to say goodbye. Their shyness made it all the more special as they appeared from the scrub, trotted onto the road, looked at us, then turned and ran off. Fleeting, almost like a whisper. Sara Zvakanaka (goodbye) and maita zvenyu (Thank you), Mana Pools. You did not disappoint.

Only when you're immersed in nature do you truly see and experience how exceptional it is.