South Luangwa (Zambia) - Elephants and Hippos
Elephants are the most visible face of wildlife in South Luangwa. Zambia's present total 'savanne elephant' population is around 21000 animals. That is by estimate of the Great Elephant Census (GEC) of 2014-2015. About three quarters of these are living within the natural boundaries of the South Luangwa National Park.
When one sees these gentle giants in their herds roam the park, one tends to think that all is well for the elephant. Sadly the reality is that the elephant's footprint throughout Africa has shrunk and is still shrinking at a terrifying rate. Prior to the 1960s the territory of Zambia (then called Northern Rhodesia) was home to about a quarter of a million elephants. Due to severe ivory trade poaching in the seventies and eighties their numbers had plummeted to about 18 000 individuals at the end of the eighties. More than ninety percent of the population whiped out in just two decades. Intensified protective measures through the nineties managed to turn the tide and the population stabilised and finally started to recover slowly. By 2008 their numbers had reached some 27500. But the GEC count showed for Zambia as a whole a renewed decline by over ten percent to 20839 animals. More effective protective measures in the South Luangwa National Park itself have had positive impact and have kept its population stable over the past decade.
Looking at the photos below makes me recall the joyous moments of seeing so many elephants on all four days of our stay. The ongoing and ever deepening elephant crisis in Africa, however, bring a sobering raw edge to these happy 'frames'.
Elephant droppings on a forest road.
Seeing these always bring back to me distant but vivid memories of my 1973 exploration in the Southern Selous and my first time encounters there with the African elephant. Their droppings, their impressive giant footprints in the riverbeds we used to follow and above all their unforgettable smell, tell taling that any moment we could be face-to-face with 'tembo' (swahili word for elephant). Particularly in dense vegetation and high 'elephant grass' these always were tense moments.
Giant among giants. An elephant steps out slowly from between a stand of old miombe trees. The lower parts of the tree trunks clearly showing the impact of bark stripping by elephants.
A herd of several adults and young elephants, moving slowly through miombe tree vegetation parallel to our forest track
The leading bull of the crossing herd stands guard in the road signalling his anxiety about our presence a bit too close for his comfort
Several hundred metres downstream form the Luwi bush camp, a herd of elephants has come down into the Luwi river to drink.
Two small croccodile 'neighbours' are unperturbed in their sun-bathing on the small sandbank.
A happy family queching their thirst.
Besides drinking, old and young alike enjoy a good hose bath.
A solitary big bull elephant stands photo-friendly in late afternoon low angle yellowing sunlight.
The little young catches the shade dwarfed by giant legs and massive trunks.
The portrait of this large elephant bull in close-up is mighty imposing
A pile up of motionless hippo bodies in their deep sleeps. Only once in a while a thundering roar testifies they are very much alive.
That tons of sleepy hippo can explode into instant action we experienced first hand on a walk. Passing a pool, all was blissfully quiet with several halve-submerged hippos scattered as islands in mirror-flat water. On the raised bank some meters above the water the six of us moved on cautiously and disciplined as ducks in a row through the vegetation, headed by our armed guard.
Suddenly two big bulls exploded into a fight. One chased the other out of the water and the latter one flee onto the bank. We anticipated it to pass just behind us along a well trodden narrow hippo trail leading onto the bank. Until in a flash it changed its mind and picked an other trail just some meters more to the left. We were about to cross that trail getting out of hippo harms way. It stormed past right in front of us, clearing us by no more than a few metres. Probably barely if at all aware of our presence as we ducked away between the vegetation.
The chaser fortunately decided to stay behind celebrating its victory in the water.