50|50 is back! SA's longest running environ show...

I've been a little quiet lately but not for any reason except that it's been a month of new challenges which have kept me extremely busy...hard at work doing my bit for conservation! I joined the 5050 team at the start of March and we launch the new season on Monday 5 April 2010 (http://www.5050.co.za/). Below I have outlined the stories we will be featuring, all poignant conservation stories!

Lion’s Rock Sanctuary

Lion’s Rock is a sanctuary for lion rescued from atrocious conditions in zoos around the world. In the last season of 5050 we saw several Romanian lions brought to Lion’s Rock in an emotionally charged story. Wendy Willson now follows up on the rehabilitation of one particular lion “Caesar” and we have a look at how Lion’s Rock provides a second chance to these abused animals. Recently more lion were brought into the relative freedom of Lion’s Rock Sanctuary. The latest arrivals are rescued from various zoos in Arman, Jordan thanks to the valiant efforts of the Princess Alia Foundation and Lion’s Rock members. In this story questions are asked about the validity of zoos and 5050 explore the basic right of all animals to life.

Verlorenvlei (http://www.verlorenvlei.co.za/)

The main story is about another pristine wetlands area that has come under threat to mining. Verlorenvlei is one of the largest natural wetlands on the West Coast. It offers important bird habitat, houses unique biodiversity and is a RAMSAR site of international conservation importance. One of the rivers that feed into it, the Krom Antonies River, has its source in the Moutonshoek Valley. In this productive part of the otherwise water-stressed sandveld, agriculture produces export fruit and potatoes. But under the same soils is a rich deposit of tungsten, a metallic element used for things like light bulb filaments and hardened drill-bits. In order to access this, Bongani Minerals proposes to dig a hole much the size of the Kimberly mine in the middle of the Moutonshoek pivotal area. This will have huge implications on the lives of farmers, workers and conservationists alike in the region. A coalition has been formed to dispute the mining application, advised by the previous head of the Green Scorpions, but the process is a complex fight costing millions and potentially threatening to destroy the Verlorenvlei ecosystem irreversibly.

Geneva Car (http://www.optimalenergy.co.za/)

The Geneva Motor Show is the biggest car expo in the world and this year many of the exhibitors had their latest green technology on show. Simon Gear visits the show and test drives the electric and hydro-fuel cell cars. 5050 explore the variety of technologies involved in greening the motor industry and closer to home, examine South Africa’s very own Joule that starts and accelerates on electricity. But how sustainable is this type of vehicle where one would need to plug into the national grid to charge it, a supply that is coal-generated and carbon heavy on the environment.

Crocs of the Olifants River

An ongoing saga where the crocodiles and barbel fish of the once pristine Olifants River, are dying from a disease called pansteatitis that hardens their internal fat. The hardened fat causes the crocodiles to become immobile which leads to starvation and even drowning of the affected animals. While clues point to pollution from various sources the exact trigger that started the process of crocodile deaths remains elusive. This is one of the questions South Africa’s leading researchers, scientists, conservationists and wildlife pathologists hope to answer through ground-breaking and risky research.

5050 SABC 2 April 5th 19h30

Rukinga – Lifeline between East and West

Tsavo country is vast, spectacular and ochre-red. The fine red dust is its trademark - and too the red elephants and buffalo that result from it.

Rukinga Ranch is 30000ha of cattle ranch turned conservation thanks to efforts of Wildlife Works, a company that recognised that the region in which Tsavo lies isn’t going to get any wealthier from doing nothing for the land. The cows get denser each year as does the population and so the only real solution is to put the land to good use. When the majority of the space in the region is already taken up by the East and West Tsavo Parks that are already a tourist attraction thanks to history and movies like ‘Ghosts in the Darkness’, it makes sense to ensure the wildlife perpetuates. To do this takes cooperation from the community and a channel that links them together. Rukinga is such a place…a refuge for migratory animals passing through the desolate dry landscape and a paradise to the observer.

The elephants jostle and vocalise through the night to stake a claim to the small waterhole they have created from lifting the water pipe outside camp. The park staff are exasperated at having to fix the pipe for the umteenth time but I love the fact that all through the night I can hear the ellies from my bed and every morning first thing, there they are right on the doorstep vying with buffalo bulls for access to the muddy bath. Hundreds of ring-necked doves alight around the great grumpy pachyderms like grey snow falling on the red earth, the sunlight glinting off their white retrices. One needn’t venture far at all for a wildlife spectacle so incredible, it’s hard to believe it happens again and again each morning.

But after some elephant indulgence, the great expanses beyond the camp vicinity beckon and inevitably the temptation grips to look for some of the other remarkable species that inhabit these parts. There are gerenuks that never cease to elicit giggles as they stand up primate-like on their hind legs to access leaves generally out of reach of such small antelope. Their front hooves dangle out gracefully in front of their sleek bodies as they nibble and chew for seemingly ages on two pins. Fringe-earred oryx are rarer but a glimpse of their impressive stature with lance-like horns is always a treat. As is an encounter with the endangered Grevy’s zebra. The population was introduced to the area in an effort to bolster the numbers. While the oryx’s ears appear frayed and unkempt, the Grevy’s has ears that look like they used to belong to Mickey Mouse! Oversized and comical these perfectly compliment a unique stripe pattern amongst zebra that resembles a pin-stripe suit left open over the belly to reveal a white undershirt.

Aardwolf and striped hyena, caracal, serval and bat-earred fox are some of the other treats and not always that rare a sight either. But my best are the Kirk’s dikdik. These miniature antelopes are the fame of the area. Paired off in their small but excusive territories, it’s a few hundred meters only between sightings. Their large eyes are even more emphasized by the dark preorbital glands that they use to paint tarry secretions onto beacons as boundary markers. The little ungulates also make remarkably large middens to identify their ranges but as a species, being so successful warrants a little showing off I suppose. Their slender noses are apparently a clever trick they have to survive in such harsh climates, wriggling these to cause evaporate cooling.

I’ve heard a story or two of late about how the dikdik got its name but as convincing as these were, the fiction was derived from a very capable story-telling Irishman with a vivid imagination and an illuminating smile. Jimmy was one member of the first group of students to participate in Ecotraining’s pilot Kenyan 28-day field guide training course on Rukinga (www.ecotraining.co.za) and was matched in his charismatic-ness by each of the others participating. Anton, the Russian-Australian, had a ceaseless stream of naturalist questions that couldn’t be quenched (even between Ashleigh’s random hic-ups) – even at 2am on a nocturnal drive, they just kept coming! But that kind of interest is exactly what is required in an environment where there are so many new things to learn and areas to explore…not least of which was Mount Kasigau, the towering landmark that presides over the Rukinga landscape. So up we went…

The Austrian-Spanish cousins, Sophie and Cecile, and I had decided we would just accompany the over-energetic Jimmy, Anton and Wil part of the way up the 1640m peak. Climbing a mountain is about enjoying the scenery on the way up and not just anticipating the view from the top. Dry, rocky Commiphora bush changed into tall, shaded dry forest which metamorphosed into a fantasy-land of looming trees, dancing leaves, giant-sized buttrices and moss-covered logs. Trenches from the First World War distracted us from the hike at one point and then the appeal of an even lovelier wet-forest further up where purple orchids dotted the tree trunks, Taita white-eyes flitted and one had to be careful to step steadily on the slippery mud. The temperate was cool and lovely, a remarkable micro-climate compared to the heat below. Then the final climb was in sight and the girls were still on board and more determined than ever to reach the top having come so far inadvertently! The boys must’ve been as impressed with us as we were with ourselves as they quite willingly shared their sandwiches with us! We had abandoned ours in the vehicle below not thinking we’d need them! Getting down proved a comedy of slippery errors but 7 hours after it all began and we were back on level ground marvelling at the feat!

October has seen the start of the very welcome rains. ‘Karibu sana’ as they say in Kiswahili… ‘most welcome’! The entire landscape has been transformed into an emerald wonderland and although the elephants have dispersed and are no longer lingering on the camp doorstep, it’s a relief to know there’s plenty of water for them to drink. The buffalo can relax a bit too.

Or maybe not since the lion activity on Rukinga has been on the rise. Two very good-looking young males (albeit maneless) made their appearance the other morning roaring proudly to announce their arrival. After feasting on a lesser kudu, the companions settled under a leafy Commiphora to while away the hours providing super viewing for the second intake of EcoTrainers this year. The maneless lions of Tsavo are renowned although scientists still seem to be a little confused as to why they don’t grow manes. The probability is that the heat typical of the area would sap them of vital energy if they had impressive furry manes but interestingly, increased testosterone that causes baldness in human males, could be another reason. Since Tsavo lions tend to hold tenure over a territory on their own unlike the coalitions of other savanna areas, they’d need a whole lot of hormone driving them to be aggressive enough to chase off contenders and hair-loss may result! The ladies don’t seem to mind…

The rain has brought the migrants and Indi or ‘Indiana Jones’ as we affectionately call her – a local Kenyan already in the safari industry but here to learn more - is thrilled! Every referee-whistle of a Eurasian bee-eater or ‘coo-coo’ of the African cuckoo elicits gasps of delight from her. Through the many enjoyable hours of birding that we’ve done on both Rukinga and in Tsavo East (clocking up 123 species in 3 and a half weeks), she has also elicited gasps of delight from the rest of us with her ceaseless supply of snacks! In her words: ‘yum’!

Johnson is the laugh-a-minute Kenyan chap who always has a bright smile and a witty comment. He keeps Caroline on her toes questioning her about everything he spots. Caroline is our Dutch ‘singing’ friend – she has a tune for every occasion! She’s on an adventure away from rainy Holland to indulge in glorious Africa – lucky for us but maybe not for her, we’ve had a fair bit of rain during her stay! Steve and Petra complete the dynamic little group and although Steve is of Taita origin, he happily chats away to Petra in her mother tongue German providing great amusement to the rest of us.

Such is the case in any EcoTraining Kenyan field guide experience…a mix of diverse culture, personality, landscapes and wildlife. Wouldn’t miss it for the world!

Luangwa - Battlefield of Hippo (Part 5)

Although they all but share a kingdom, both the crocodiles and the hippos are prepared to cross boundaries if something is at stake. For the crocodiles it’s a matter of food, for the hippos, possibly a matter of kinship or simply a lack of cognitive understanding of death. Amidst the feeding chaos, the hippo’s own brave the hordes of shiny teeth and flailing tempers for an investigation. Barging through the ranks of crocodiles, biting, pushing…what are the rules?

Recognition is sought by the hippo through licks and sniffs and nudges. The opening of the mouth indicates the use of the vemoronasal organ (commonly called the Organ of Jacobsen) which detects airborne steroid hormones. Typically this organ is used in determining whether an individual is ready to mate but is also used in the recognition of individuals. Maybe the salts on the sun-baked skin are simply a dry season delicacy for those who survive to harvest it? The teeth of a hippo are not exactly designed to nibble meat off spongy carcasses but licking is certainly possible. Hippos are after all the descendents of pigs.

On a particular channel, the Changwa, there are so many hippos packed together in the shallow remaining water of a fast shrinking river that a photograph reveals 100 heads but no light or space between them…it’s an epic tin of sardines! Changwa especially becomes overcrowded as the water level drops, a giant super-pod of thriving bodies and bad tempers. The rerouting of the river here, in its relentless quest to change course and create oxbows, provided an apparently super-attractive spot of hippo real estate. The Changwa Pod is no ordinary pod of hippos, it’s a super-pod and they offer us an exaggerated look at the dynamics of hippo life in the Valley. Fights break out…disease attacks…heat exhaustion takes its toll and hippos die creating a feast of notable proportions for the 100’s of crocs in the river that pile into these carcasses in numbers up to 200 at a time. The crux comes when the lions find such carcasses on the waters edge and fight off the crocs in a unique predator standoff for sole access to the meat.

For most of the year, these species seldom clash. Lions dispatch all decaying finds on land, crocodiles keep the Luangwa’s waters clean. Not so at this time of year. It’s a free for all and a wealth of hippo meat is too good a find for both competitors and sharing is just not an option. Armed with enormous teeth, lightning fast reflexes and claws of steel, the crocodile is a force to be reckoned with. But although the crocodile is obstinate and has craftiness on its side, there is a chink in its armour. Ten times the size of a lions’ jaws perhaps, the crocodile’s jaws do not provide an enormous amount of crushing power. Success is in the surprise of the attack and thereafter the ability to latch, drown and twist to feed off their prey. If matched against the lions and hippo, the crocs are up against high odds when out of their own domain.

Moving straight in, the lioness drags the carcass inch at a time up the beach, gaining ground for the lions before the carcass is lightened enough to be fleet-footed into the water. The water means victory for the crocodiles and here the lions do fear to tread! The crocodiles crawl up the beach after their escaping meal. The lions have speed and muscular power on land but the crocs have overpowering numbers on their side.

The Luangwa Valley’s top predators come face to face in the ultimate showdown. Lions and crocodiles clash over the final rights to this ultimate dry season prize – a prize defended valiantly by its own kind!

Luangwa: Battleground of Hippos (part 2)

With a scarcity of food, an injured hippo is confined to barracks – left to die in the only available moisture he can find, usually the sludge of an abandoned oxbow. Sometimes death only comes days later as predators of all descriptions line up to watch the slow demise, saving their energy for the feast they know is imminent. On one occasion we watched a dying hippo in such a pool for just short of a week. Assuming the lions would move in and “finish him off”, we were surprised to find them lazily watching the scene from the shade of a small tree the following morning and even more surprised to find the geriatric had acquired a companion. This apparently healthy hippo moved into the puddle with the injured bull and during the course of the week and even after the other had died and turned the pond a mucky green, this loner appeared and disappeared.

A number of explanations are possible. Perhaps the second hippo was also a defeated bull with no where else to go and the injured bull was unable to fend him off his turf, or simply too weak to care. A controversial theory proposed in the past is that perhaps hippo, like elephants, endure some kind of kinship bond. The hippo may have been from its own pod, perhaps in a nearby stretch of river or simply recognised a species member in distress. Hippos have been known to behave quite remarkably around dead or dying creatures. Skinner reports a hippo supposedly rescuing an impala…???

The day that heralded the death of the hippo held another surprise. The first at the scene was a lonesome hyena who merely nibbled at the tough skin over the decimated rump. A couple of mouthfuls and he was gone. The next visitors (aside from warthogs, guinea fowl, puku and baboons all who drank from the fowl pond with its dead inhabitant) arrived only during the course of the following night and after a small feed by lion-standards, the male and female duo also departed leaving most of the carcass intact. They seemed to sense the virtue of allowing time to rot and forge away through the thick hide but even once this happened, the putrid carcass was relinquished to the hordes of vultures that patrol Luangwa’s skies. The dry season is vulture-prime time and the feasts are a comic to watch with birds dominating the carcass despite the ton or two of meat, tackling…falling into the mud…!!!

Memories of the Mara - Predators

Memories of "becoming a game ranger"...

Its 1 am. The icy chill of the July night air has penetrated right through my naked shins. My legs tremble uncontrollably where I sit perched on the spare tyre on the back of the Land Cruiser. We have been waiting for hours for the drugged lion to wake. I silently chastise myself for leaving my jacket behind. It’s so hot during the day and I didn’t realise that it would take so long to dart and collar a lion and now we are obliged to wait for it to recover. Its only four hours before the next official work day begins. I have to join a team of bush-clearers and help to chop out a stand of invasive and decidedly spiny sicklebush that has grown up along the main game viewing route of the reserve.

Another tremble rattles me. This time it’s the reverberating roars of two more lions so close to the vehicle that the puffs of hot air from their nostrils almost warm me. They have been attracted to the holding boma where the sleeping captive recovers. They bellow out their hostile intent towards the doped animal that they somehow sense is vulnerable. The experience is exhilarating. But not as much as the earlier part where I had to secure the impala bait to a tree with a hungry lion already in attendance!

The sleeping lion is not the only individual feeling vulnerable right now. It’s barely two months since I turned eighteen and my initial encounter with game ranging is turning out to be full of surprises. Had I known my first task on the job would be to sort through a large barrel of frozen butchery off-cuts (to remove any bits of incident plastic) before it could emptied out at the vulture restaurant, I’m not sure I would ever have embarked on a career in wildlife. Although not totally ignorant after six months of theoretical training, I’m still enchanted by my childhood illusion that game rangers are immediately issued roofless Land Rovers and sent off in search of big, impressive animals with the wind blowing their sun-stained hair across Ray Ban clad eyes. Although caught somewhat off-guard by this initial and decidedly unpleasant task, I was determined to prove my mother wrong of her all too frequently chided opinion that ‘game ranging is just not for girls’ so I rolled up my sleeves…

Unexpected is the name of the game ranger’s game. A few weeks later I discover that it is apparently completely normal for the undercarriage of the Toyota pick-up we are driving overland through a remote stretch of Kalahari grassland to intermittently burst into flames. This is thanks to an accumulation of tangled grass in the hot chassis. A few flaps, blows and handfuls of sand to dowse the flames and we’re back on the trail.

A trail that is quickly teaching me that there are bigger things at stake than ice-cold legs, blistered hands, spontaneously combusting vehicles and the obnoxious smell of decay. The reality of modern day conservation is that as soon as a fence encloses a wild area (no matter how large it is) it essentially becomes an artificial system. Wild animals can no longer follow traditional migration routes or adjust their home ranges to compensate for drought or predation. Typically agriculture and human settlements creep right up to the boundaries of the reserves and once the vegetation within the protected area becomes overgrazed, the natural recolonisation by seeds blowing in from refugia outside its perimeter, can no longer take place effectively. The area has to be managed by humans – game rangers - to simulate the appropriate ecological conditions for the ecosystem to continue to function. Predators, particularly, need to be closely monitored to minimise interbreeding. The radio collar we gave the lion will facilitate this process and help prevent any unwarranted interaction with the communities living right on the reserve’s doorstep. The dispatched intestines will provide a poison-free feeding site to vulnerable vulture species and prove an attraction to guests visiting the reserve (and thereby supporting its ongoing management)...

(a real-life extract from an article written for Africa Geographic Dec-Jan edition 2008/9 www.africageographic.com)