Getting Intimate with the Okavango

INTIMACY. It is what most people search for in life, but few people find. I have lived and worked in and around the Okavango Delta in Botswana for over 5 years, but it was only just the other day, that we finally became intimate.

How?

I went on a three-day mokoro trail in the heart of the Okavango………

It is 2pm on an April afternoon and I’m sitting in a mokoro in Botswana’s Okavango Delta. The sun is hitting us directly, as well as reflecting off the water.  It is hot. Ahead of us, we can see hundred’s of pelican’s and Marabou storks lined up on a sandbank at the end of Xigera Lagoon. There are also red lechwe grazing peacefully on the bank to our north. Aside from the heat, it is a very peaceful scene. The serenity is accentuated by the fact that we are moving silently.

With a BaYei paddler in the back of the mokoro, there is almost no sound as we move through the open water.

As we move closer to the pelicans, we understand why they are here in such numbers on today of all days. The annual flood of the Okavango Delta has just hit Xigera Lagoon, where we are camping for the next couple of days. Perfect timing. Xigera Lagoon is a huge expanse of fairly shallow water, and before the new floodwaters arrived, there were numerous sandbanks that had emerged.

As these sandbanks had been covered with shallow water, the pelicans and marabou storks were lined up along them and were picking off fish as they arrived with the water. They were essentially making their own fish trap.

When we continue our approach, the pelicans begin to take off. There must have been over 400 White and Pink-Backed Pelicans that took to the air. Added to this were several hundred Marabou Storks that had come to feast on the incoming fish, and hundreds of African Skimmers that were flying in long circles above our heads. The skimmers had been nesting on the exposed sandbanks until the water arrived, but were now also making the most of the glut of food.

Also in smaller numbers were Yellow-billed Storks, Saddle-billed Storks, Wattled Cranes, Fish Eagles, Greenshanks, Grey Herons, Goliath Herons, Squacco Herons, Rufous-bellied Herons, Slaty Egrets, Little Egrets, Malachite Kingfishers, Pied Kingfishers, Long-toed Plovers and a host more. It was an absolute festival of birds topped off by a sighting of a pair of Caspian Terns. We knew that this was a special sight when our BaYei guides, Ishmael and William, who had been born and raised in the area, admitted that they had never seen them before. Yet their shear size rendered them unmistakable.

As we checked our bird books to confirm the sighting of the Caspian Terns, we nearly fell out of our mekoro (the plural of mokoro) by a noise that sounded like a huge clap of thunder moving across water. We looked back to see the herd of red lechwe, that had previously been grazing peacefully, charging across the open expanse of water. Clearly unimpressed with us, but in doubt as to whether to carry on crossing the lagoon, the lechwe stopped midway. They seemed to be evaluating the relative risks. Us behind them or the unknown in front of them. They decided to take a chance on the latter and carried on their explosive mission across the lagoon.

With the spectacle of the birds and the lechwe behind us, my travelling companion (an American travel writer named Jeff) and I were keen to try some fishing. Ishmael found us a quiet spot on the main channel of the Boro River and proved that he had chosen the spot well by pulling in a huge tiger fish with his first cast. However, the next half-hour was spent casting unsuccessfully and the decision was made – collectively - to move to a new spot.

The new spot was perfect in every way – except for the fishing. But that didn’t actually matter. We sat with fishing rod in one hand, cold beer in the other, casting into the rushing water. As we fished we watched another herd of lechwe grazing on a flood plain in front of us. A couple of bull elephants sauntered past us. All the while the sun was starting to sink slowly and the light was changing to a colour that fairly closely matched our beers.

I was getting intimate.

Jeff however was itching to move. He was in the process of telling Ishmael as much when his fishing line took off. He had latched himself a tiger. It took him a full ten minutes to bring it in, and whilst we didn’t have a scale with us, it must have weighed in at about 4 kilograms. We decided to fish on. A couple of bream later and a fairly quiet fishing afternoon had turned into fresh fish for dinner. 

We returned to our mekoro and headed for our fly camp. The sun had just set and a full moon was rising in front of us. The only distraction was a 747 that was still catching the sun that had so recently left us. It was flying so high that we couldn’t even hear it. I wondered if they knew that at that moment they were flying over one of the most pristine areas left in Africa. I wondered where they were going but didn’t worry about it for long. Wherever they were going I knew where I would rather be.