215 - Nine Lions And Some Yippee-ki-yay (Okavango Delta, Botswana)
ON OUR SECOND EVENING IN THE DELTA, the gamble on a discounted off-season visit paid off… big time, high five! While enjoying sunset tea in pretentious bourgeois fashion, a call came in over the radio—there be lions! My response? Fuck the tea and crumpets! Let’s haul ass, y’all! And so we did.
Before our arrival, a lion pride murdered a fledgling zebra… awww. Although bachelor males hunt once they become part of a pride, it’s more often than not the women who do the heavy lifting. Three lionesses were feeding themselves and their cubs when the lone adult male asserted his patriarchal authority and purloined the feast.
That’s when we arrived. Another vehicle, using its headlights as a spotlight, focused on the “thief,” while the females and their brood (five in total) looked on, dejected, as the husband/daddy devoured the fruits of their labor. Just like a man… bastard. One lioness still had a bloody chin.
We sat and watched the cantankerous kitty methodically consume a baby zebra from the ass end. Mesmerizing. That’s the word. So was the soap opera playing out before us. Every so often, one or more of the kids would edge closer in hopes Daddy would stop being a gluttonous hog and spread the wealth. He was having none of it, articulating his lack of beneficence with a menacing growl.
As I mentioned in the previous post, our 4WD drive was open and exposed. No roof. No rails. A true convertible. Normally, I’m composed around wildlife, but I must admit something was unsettling about having a lion walk close enough to rub against the vehicle. I leaned over to take a look and was no more than two feet away from the pretty kitty. I could hear her breathing… gulp. Nothing will make your heart rate spike like the whisper of ‘“Don’t move” from your guide. Having said lioness look you in the eye will do nothing to soothe your anxiety. I fucking loved it!
If you stay calm, make no sudden movements, and stay seated, everything is hunkey dorey. Do something stupid like stand up, and you’re no longer a part of the solid mass. You’re singular, distinct, and could be perceived as a threat. Not a good position near lion cubs. Stories were passed around later about an unfortunate soul who stood up in a similar vehicle near a leopard, instigating a vicious attack that left the occupants alive but severely injured. No one wants to be that asshole.
At the outset, two other vehicles shared the space, but we found ourselves alone after thirty minutes. This astonished me. You fly thousands of miles, spend thousands of dollars, and when you encounter one of nature’s most enchanting dramas, you do what? Go back for dinner and a snooze. Are you fucking kidding me?! Who are these people? You couldn’t tear us away. We had our own vehicle and front-row seats for a wildlife reality show. We weren’t moving for dick! I had to see the conclusion.
A fellow guest at Kwara Camp in the adjacent vehicle did not share our enthusiasm. He found such open-air exposure terrifying, prompting his driver to back off. We learned this when an American named Fred asked to hop into our vehicle after his party (to include Mr. Scaredy Pants) called it a night. We were more than happy to oblige when we sensed his level of fascination was commensurate with ours. So, we sat. We watched. We waited. Watching a lion engulf a fledgling zebra isn’t easy to describe. I can almost hear the bones crunching in his mouth, and the glare of open zebra eyes will be forever etched in my memory. Incredible. Just fucking magnificent.
The evening’s highlight was the deep, drawn-out ululations of the three females. To sit in complete darkness, listening to the guttural quasi-howl of three lionesses bellow in unison, is enough to hypnotize any mortal (or immortal, for that matter). Moments like that make you feel like the luckiest fucker on the planet. Such moments are precious and far too rare. How many do we really get?
The finale came when Grumpo dispatched with the head. Ever watch a lion lap up zebra brain? Try it. When all that remained was a bloody patch of grass, we fired up the 4WD. Our guides, Kenny and Mopani, were itching to move on. Although late-night game drives are common, we’d been sitting in one place for the better part of three hours. They’d had enough. We didn’t get back to camp until after 2:00 a.m. The return was adrenalizing. Elephants crashed through the forest and another lion pride was on the prowl. I didn’t have the heart to request we stop. No need to be greedy. Still, I had no desire to sleep. I wanted to stay out all goddamn night.
We weren’t finished with Simba's crew. Although still sleepy and drained from an exhilarating night, we managed to drag our cabooses out of bed for the morning game drive. The guide drove us to the scene of the crime to see if our new pals lingered. Thankfully, they were close. The experience was nowhere near as thrilling as the night before, but seeing the fam with the lights on was well worth our time. It appeared all had been forgiven. Mother and child spent quality time canoodling with dear old dad… fuckface.
I had a tense moment when I crouched to the vehicle’s floor for a ground shot of an approaching kitty cat. My stealthy perch attracted her attention and for a couple heart-pounding seconds, she eyed me with laser focus as she advanced. I nearly shat myself. Playing hide and seek with a mother lion is a terrible, terrible idea.
After saying farewell to the Furball Gang, we drifted through the grasslands with no particular aim. We’d been given an incredible gift and, so, sat back and basked in the warmth of the experience’s afterglow. We paused for our tea interval and shared the morning with an elephant who’d come to a nearby pool for a drink. And then it was back to camp.
Botswana doesn’t fuck around with protecting wildlife. The manager of Kwara Camp (BK, as he’s known) shared insights. I think the motto “See a poacher, blow his fucking head off” sums up the policy. And this privilege isn’t reserved for park rangers and government staff. Many individuals (like BK, for example) who work at the lodges are, for all intents and purposes, “deputized.” Many carry identity cards (BK showed us his) that give them shoot-to-kill authority. I’m certain even if Johnny Citizen comes across a poaching operation and goes “Rambo” on their asses, he’d likely be commended for doing so. BK said that if he saw poachers in the act, he’d “take them down.” Niiiiice. It might seem extreme, but the poachers are no less forgiving and have been known to execute locals and tourists alike to conceal their activities. Botswana or Dodge City? Yippee ki-yay, muther fucker!
That was our last day at Kwara. We were desperate to spend another night, but the cost, combined with logistic difficulties, prevented us from doing so. We were lucky, so I suppose there was no cause to be anything but grateful. And besides, it’s not like we would’ve seen a leopard, an elusive night-stalker, difficult to spot even during the prime viewing season, right? Wrong. Fred the American informed us via e-mail he spotted a leopard the next day. Our guide said nobody had seen one for six weeks. I have to admit, I was mildly bitter.
But not as bitter as I was upon our return to Maun. It was there we discovered we’d overpaid for our trip to the tune of $200 US. Turns out, the woman at Travel Wild (Katia was her name) took a hefty commission. How did I discover this deception? We went to the Kwando Safaris office (a three-minute walk from Travel Wild) to investigate a return trip. We were that smitten with the place. It was then we realized we’d been royally F’ed in the A. Back to Travel Wild for an explanation. “These are the rates posted by Kwando… Sometimes they get a discount on flights… I was not aware… blah, blah, blah…”
Kiss my hairy bean bag!
It gets better. We then returned to Kwando Safaris, where a woman admitted they sometimes refer customers to Travel Wild so they “can have a little something for themselves.” WTF! This meant Kwando referred people solely to collect a commission. Is you fucking kidding me?!
Why was I so stupid? Good question. I do know better. First, I didn’t realize we were going with Kwando initially and failed to notice their office in town. Not only that, but walk-ins are rare. Most visitors book their trip as part of a package in their home country. It wasn’t crazy for me to believe the walk-in rate at the Travel Wild office would be competitive, especially given I was unaware Kwando had their own office. Argh! Katia stole our money. She stole an extra night in the Okavango Delta. She stole our leopard experience. I’m thinking of a word that starts with “b” and rhymes with Rich. Still, it could’ve been worse. We’d almost booked an additional tour with her to Chobe National Park. Sometimes, I want to kick my own ass.
“I’ve watched the Discovery Channel, flipped through National Geographic, strolled through my local Zoo, and listened to Oprah narrate Planet Earth, more times than I can count. I’m fascinated by the world and everything that resides within it. Long gone are the days of squealing at spiders, skipping my veggies, and falling asleep in history class. I have an insatiable curiosity and appetite for learning. While books, documentaries, and another’s account, are great — nothing compares to first-hand experience.
I can’t say enough about our time in the Delta. The staff at Kwara waited on us hand and foot, making sure our every need was met. Our first day was enjoyable, with fantastic views on our flight in, long game drives, and a relaxing evening spent swapping stories with fellow travelers over a lovely meal.
The next morning we arose with the sun for an early drive, followed by an afternoon in Makoros on the lagoon, gliding through lilies, spotting various frogs and hippos. We had planned to spend our evening cruising up and down the Delta by boat, but opted for another game drive instead — a last-minute decision that proved to be one of our best, as everything quickly went from good to great with a single call.
We were halfway through our drive when we stopped to take in the sunset with a quick drink. Within a few minutes, a call came over the radio from another vehicle. A pride of lions were in the area and on the move. They didn’t have to tell us twice. We tossed our drinks, jumped back inside, and drove as fast as we could.
When we arrived on the scene, I could hardly contain myself. I was expecting two, maybe three, but there we were with a pride of nine: one lion, three lionesses, and five cubs. The females had just taken down a baby zebra and it was time to feed… at least for one. The male asserted his authority and began to feast, while the rest of the family watched and waited.
We sat there under the cover of starlight completely exposed, only a few feet away from the family affair. Minutes turned into hours, but we couldn’t turn away. It was almost as if the world stood still. We were awestruck – completely mesmerized by the display before us. Sitting in silence, my heart beating out of my chest, I could hear the tiny baby’s bones being crushed, as the flesh was stripped away. Not a drop of blood wasted or a scrap left behind.
The pride grew antsy and rightfully so. They all took turns, attempting to sneak up behind the male, only to be chased off by his intimidating snarl. Observing the females and cubs interact with each other was just as fascinating as watching the male devour his dinner. Some might think its gruesome, but only one word comes to my mind: Awesome – with a capital A. (Bleeping) awesome.
We sat there silently, attempting to take it all in, when a lioness came by to say hello. She rubbed up against our vehicle, while Rich was peaking over the edge, just a few feet away, looking him straight in the eye. Nothing gets your adrenaline pumping like having your guide whisper softly, “shhh…don’t move”. Luckily, for our sake, she just had an itch that needed a scratch – phew!
As it turns out, we weren’t in much danger. They see a vehicle with passengers as a single unit. If you stay seated, talk softly, and make no sudden movements, you won’t be perceived as a threat. Stand up, start hooting and hollering, and you’re likely to be mauled. Not a nice way to go. They were kind enough to calm our nerves with a story of guy who stood up in the presence of a leopard, causing the entire vehicle to be attacked. Everyone was severely injured, but made it out alive. Not a risk worth taking.
Thinking back to that night, I can remember every sight, sound and smell, vividly. It was, is, and always will be, one of the most fascinating experiences of my life. I feel so lucky to have spent an evening up close and personal with one of the most powerful predators. It’s heartbreaking to think that poaching is such a problem for all of Africa’s wildlife, and it’s hard to say if these magical creatures will be around much longer. It’s quite possible that our children’s children won’t have the chance to see them outside of captivity. One can hope…
After a few hours of sleep, we were up and at it again. We were lucky enough to run into the pride once more, which made for another fantastic morning. We’re not sure what we did to deserve such a treat, but we couldn’t ask for a better way to conclude our time in the Delta. It was worth every precious penny, and then some.”
Leslie Peralta, “Table For One: A Night With Nine Lions, March 2011” — Soledad: Notes From My Travels