Blog Oct Impeccable Taste

Blog 24 – Oct '14 – Impeccable Taste and Enduring Hunger

A calm and peace descended over Charitsaub waterhole in Etosha, a sure sign something was wrong. The 30-odd springbok and couple dozen zebra drinking at the waterhole all stopped their frolicking and thirst-quenching to peer in the same direction - a small hollow in the plains to the south. In a split second the stillness of the waterhole became a flurry of activity as a stampede broke out. The vigilant zebra herd on its way in to the Charitsaub had somehow mistaken the teaming waterhole as a sign of safety. Unbeknownst to them a group of 3 hungry lionesses were crouched not more than 10 m away from their path, ready for action. Fortunately for the zebras, the lions’ attempt at hunting seemed a little lack lustre and no zebra died in the making of the stampede.

The lions, after quenching their thirst, found themselves a nice little hollow in the reeds right by the water. Carefully hidden away from their prey and the prying eyes of the vehicle-bound tourists, now numbering 18-vehicles and over 70 people, the lions settled in for the long haul. Their hidey holes were sufficient to ensure 16 of the 18 vehicles gave up hope of further lion sightings in the near future. Some semblance of calm returned to the waterhole. An eerie silence fell upon Charitsaub once the tyre churning, horn blaring and excited chatter disappeared. All that was left were two diehard vehicles full of knowing tourists (and one hopeful researcher!) that knew hungry lions weren’t just going to sleep so close to a smorgasbord of prey species without at least one more attempt at catching dinner.

Gradually the animals started to feel more comfortable and returned to the water, ever vigilant. Every so often the wind would change direction bringing with it a lion's scent, or a clumsy animal would slip or trip causing mass panic. But the lions bided their time... Hundreds of springbok came and went, secretary birds and bustards filed in as zebras slipped by the lions; there was little awareness of the danger lurking behind the reeds. And thankfully, cars came and went completely unaware of the three lions only 40 m away. I didn’t make a move to correct the tourists’ mistake when they commented that “the waterhole just has boring animals at it”; after all, who was I to assume that they didn’t find lions boring?

My patience, and that of the remaining car, was finally rewarded as a group of wildebeest entered the waterhole. There was still discord amongst the springbok that could sense the lions but the ‘beests walked in with little concern. Within seconds of seeing the wildebeest one lion lifted its head, just visible to those of us on the hill. A scramble for cameras ensued among the two cars as we anticipated a possible hunt. It became a spectator sport - something I am a little ashamed of, but one has to respect the circle of life (and cheer it on every now and then). For the first time in my life I uttered the words, ‘come on lions’. It certainly has never happened at an AFL game! It was clear from the moment the ‘beests were visible that this was what the lions were waiting for and had been for almost two hungry hours. I mean hungry for both the lions and myself. I was hungry as I had anticipated a return to camp hours before and had yet to have breakfast. The lions must have been hungry too; I can’t imagine running at full pelt in that 40o heat for a bit of fun.

And it was on. Two of the lions burst out of the reeds as the animals scattered. Wildebeest young ended up cowering amongst the springbok upon being separated from their herd, alarm calls emanated from the bulls as they too scampered from the lions. But it wasn’t the bulls or juveniles that were the target. A female, 7 months pregnant, was the focus. Her 9-month old bub had escaped, the rest of the herd had fled, and she managed to find herself between the two hungry lionesses. With amazing strength and speed she launched herself out of the water and straight between her pursuers to freedom. The lions had lost. They were within centimetres and yet they couldn’t make it work. I swear I saw a look of disgust pass between the two lionesses before they cast their glances to the third lioness - the lioness whose interest piqued as soon as she saw the ‘beests coming but didn’t join in on the hunt. It seemed unthinkable from our lofty (and safe) position that the wildebeest was free and it was difficult to believe that the hunt would have ended in the same way had there been a third pursuant. I could understand the disgust I saw in the lionesses’ eyes, even if that disgust was just a figment of my imagination as I did the unthinkable for a biologist - I anthropomorphised the animals.

As the lions lay down, bringing their temperatures and heart rates back to normal, I could hear the distinct sound of sighs and cursing coming from the car next door. The sighs had replaced the earlier hushed tones of cheering. The lions had gone from ‘our team’ that we willed to victory to the defeated team that called our loyalty into question . I know my neighbours’ hushed cheers and then sighs mirrored my own reactions. We’d been let down. We’d waited and watched for hours to see a win, and in my case I’d been waiting for that win for over 18 months. I hope one day it will happen, but just like many Brisbaners I had sat watching a game for two hours, waiting for a win for the lions, only to come away second best. So, off I drove leaving the lions (with impeccable taste, I must say) feeling exhausted and still hungry.

It’s astounding how something so amazing can become disappointing when there’s something slightly better on offer. It’s like winning a weekend away when the first prize is a round-the-world trip. Normally you’d be happy with a weekend away, but knowing that it could have been astronomically more exciting sours the win a little. On my drive back to camp my mind was racing. One moment I was amazed and excited that I had witnessed such a clash of wills and that my ‘beests were involved. I also felt proud of my ‘beests. It was their strength that drew me to them in the first place; on the plains of the Serengeti I watched on as a female fought to keep up with her migrating herd whilst giving birth. I watched in admiration - this mother was so determined to survive, and keep her child safe, that she continued trotting right up until her baby was halfway born - her strength and will were astonishing. This chase, of an also pregnant female, just shows the strength of these “cute in an ugly sort of way*” animals. Ashamedly, I kept losing that feeling of amazement as the feeling of being overwhelmingly let down crept into my mind. How could the lions let her get away? I have spent so much time on this continent and I still have to answer ‘none’ when asked how many kills I have seen. But I went home, opened my fridge and had some breakfast; the lions didn’t have such luxury!

*This is a phrase I have heard a number of times as people talk about wildebeest and is quite frankly one of the nicer things that have been said.