Attack Of The Killer Hippo!

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All was quiet on the Zambezi river. Well, except for the soothing sound of the river itself, the breaking of tree branches at the hands, or should I say trunks, of elephants getting their midnight snack and of course the ever-present grunting snorts of the hippos. We had set up camp on a small island just off the Zimbabwean side of the river and were trying to get some well-deserved sleep after four hours of non-stop canoeing. My sleep was light, as I was popping my head out of the tent every twenty minutes to see whether one of the nearby elephants had decided to swim over to our island from the mainland. Suddenly a frightening yell came from the tent of our canoe guide. But before I go on, let us rewind back to the morning of the same day.
As always we'd gotten off to a late start, not only because our canoe safari operator was an hour late in picking us up (which was to be expected) but also because we hadn't been able to pay him the cost of the trip until that morning (you may remember our money issues from the previous blog), which meant that he hadn't been able to buy food for us, so that meant that before driving to the starting point along the Zambezi we first had to stop off at a supermarket. Add to that a flat tyre and once we reached the river there was no time for lunch and we had to get paddling immediately.
The river was quiet and empty to begin with but by the end of the day we were spotting and evading hippos and crocs everywhere. As we approached our first island home, the dimensions of a small apartment, a couple of crocs slipped off its bank into the river. We voiced our concerns about sleeping on an island that had, up to that point, been home to a pair of crocodiles to our guide Otto, but he assured us that they wouldn't come back and besides there were crocodiles on all the islands and in any case the island that we were originally supposed to stay on was out of reach due to the late departure. Suitably pacified by his response, we set up camp as Otto tried to get the fire going, a task made more difficult by the lack of any dry firewood. While our guide patiently cooked rice for us, fireflies buzzing all around, I noticed that one of the crocs had not fled as far as initially thought and was watching us intently from the water just off the bank. Once again Otto assured us that we had nothing to worry about and that the croc would not come on land while we were still there. Sure enough I was able to scare the croc back into the depths of the river. A few minutes later it was back, a few metres along the island from its original spot. Again I ran at it and again it slipped down below. Shortly after it popped up at a different spot. We kept up this game for a little while until I got bored and felt that I had to help out Otto who was still struggling with the rice. Using my own little bit of bush know-how I collected some dried elephant dung (I didn't question how it had come to be on the island) and gave the fire the boost it needed to finally cook the rice. The crocodile meanwhile had become more daring, was on land and heading for Otto's tent. Our guide was quick to pick up his paddle, which he always kept nearby, carefully crept behind his tent, then ran up to the animal and gave it a good whack on the head. Sure enough the croc didn't come back after that. As a precaution Otto moved his tent to a different spot.
Our bellies stuffed with rice that had taken two hours to slow-cook we went to bed. In the middle of the night Otto's yelling, followed by the sound of something rushing through the reeds and splashing into the river, had us upright in our sleeping bags. "You okay Otto?" "Yes everything's fine, something just tried to get into my tent. Everything's alright." "Ok then, goodnight Otto." Slightly unnerved at this point we tried to get back to sleep, with moderate success. The next morning, we surveyed the damage, a decent-sized hole in Otto's tent and hippo footprints in the sand. It seemed that Otto had set up his tent in the midst of a hippo walkway and had woken up with the tent pressed down on him. Luckily his yelling had been enough to scare the animal away and even more luckily Otto had packed a second tent.
The next few days passed without much incident, as we enjoyed our canoe safari along the peaceful river, dodging hippos and crocs left and right in the water, watching elephants and antelopes along the banks, waving to kids in small fishing villages on the Zambian side, enjoying beautiful sunsets and equally magnificent sunrises. Even the burnt skin on my hands and neck, which despite the repeated applications of sunscreen had taken a severe beating, couldn't dampen my spirits. On the last morning I enjoyed a nice bath in a shallow part of the river, proof that my faith in Otto had not been shaken, our guide having assured me that it would be safe to do so. By now Kamini was loving the trip as well. Her sore arms, which had prompted the cry "I don't wanna get back in the canoe." at the morning of the second day, had loosened up and were propelling our canoe with such strength now, that I was able to have the odd nap in the back of the canoe.
We had just watched yet another group of hippos disappear underwater and were happily paddling along, when all of a sudden...WHAM!!! Something smashes into the bottom of the canoe, sending us flying into the river, the boat capsized. Quickly we scramble back into the canoe, half full of water now. Otto paddles towards us and we hang on to his canoe, as he tries to paddle us back to shore, a task made more difficult by the strong current and our drowning canoe. Our bags, Kam's boots, other things that had been tied to the canoe are slowly starting to come loose. Otto doesn't want us to climb into his canoe, afraid that it will capsize as well. So we hold on, our paddles lost in the river. Our guide, who had seemed quite in control up until this point, has had no luck getting us any closer to land and says "I don't know, what can I do?". This is disconcerting. I start handing Otto some of our bags, causing our boat to sink further. It flips again and the rest of our things start floating down the river. We're now straddling the bottom of the boat. Otto hands me his spare paddle and starts chasing the rest of our flotsam, which is slowly slipping from view, leaving me to paddle us back to land. Squeezing the canoe between my legs, Kamini hanging on to the other end, I fight the current for what seems like an eternity and slowly we make our approach. Finally we hit land and pull ourselves out of the river, exhausted. However, the canoe is threatening to be pulled away by the current, filled with water as it is. Kam holds the canoe, as I use the paddle to spoon out the water. Shortly after we get the canoe onto land as well, Otto arrives. He's managed to find most of our things, apart from the last of my beloved Aussie sunscreen.
Unfortunately we haven't reached our campsite for the night yet, and so we have to get back in the canoes to cover the remaining few kilometres. Slightly more cautious now, we give any nearby hippos plenty of time to get out of the way, making sure the coast is clear before we continue. Their grunts, previously a welcome soundtrack to our canoe safari, now sound menacing and angry. But we reach our campsite unharmed. The rest of the afternoon is spent spreading our clothes, sleeping bags, shoes etc. over the entire campsite, leaving them to dry, and sifting through our food supplies, half of which have been ruined.
In the end, we spent a couple of nice days in Mana Pools National Park and for our troubles were rewarded with the sight of a pride of lions feeding on the carcass of a freshly killed buffaloe. A lovely Zimbabwean family on holidays was kind enough to supplement our meagre food rations with bread, tea and BBQed lamb leftovers. And they even shared their sunscreen with me!

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Comments

[Nat]

Holy hippo batman! You guys sure are having one hell of a trip to remember. Keep smiling and enjoying yourselves!

[inge]

This is one of most exciting outdoors adventures i read in a long time, non fiction either. Hope, you all ok.

[anonymous]

as 'nervenaufreibend' as ever. Live in Hervey Bay is much less exciting but none the less pretty good. Caught up with Shirley and Andrian and we had a lovely afternoon with them. Take CARE, love you both. me

[Kez]

Too bloody close for my liking. I would be beside myself if I ever saw a croc that close. Take care - Kez

[Devo]

hey, is that.....?
Dude, you look like Jamie from Mythbusters...... well, pretend you are wearing a beret.......