Who's Game?

Always a fan of animals of all shapes and sizes, the opportunity to drive where the wild things are seemed like one of those rare opportunities. Etosha National Park in northern Namibia just a few hundred kilometers shy of the Angolan border, with more than 3,000 species of birds and animals, inspired me to extend my stay 3 more days. It would involve an additional 1,500 kilometers of driving, but would avoid the crowds, hassles and flying feces of the local zoo.

From Sossusvlei, I headed north through the coastal town of Swakopmund, Namibia’s second largest city. Heavily influenced by German settlers, the architecture in many parts of the city looks more like a Swiss village than an African coastal community. “Swakop”, as the locals refer to it, is close to Dune 7, the world’s highest sand dune. Sandboarders, quad-bikers and hikers swarm the dune daily from sun up to sun down.

Despite Dune 7 calling my name for a few runs on the sandboard, the animal kingdom roared more loudly. After only one night in Swakop, I headed northeast on the B-2, a tarred two lane road traversing the country from east to west. Hundreds of kilometers of open desert blurred through my side windows, separated only by occasional small rural towns used by travelers for gas and rest stops.

By late afternoon, I arrived at the thatch roofed park gate. Completing my permit paperwork, the guard welcomed me to Etosha or “place of dry water”. Inching forward into the park slowly, I prepared for my first lion siting or perhaps a leopard. Would they be eating a fresh kill? Sleeping in the late day sun?

As the odometer ticked kilometer after kilometer, there were few animals to be seen, but for a desert squirrel and a tortoise crossing the road. It occurred to me that by having to stick to the roads in the park, the animals could choose to be anywhere, but the roads. Unlike the Serengetti or Ngorongoro Crater where the guide will drive wherever the animals are found, the self-drive in Etosha required that all animal voyeurs remain on the roads and in their cars. However, that also meant that if the animals were not near the road, animal enthusiasts would return home disappointed. Such was my first self-drive safari experience.

That night I dialed back my expectations for the following day for which I had planned an all day self guided tour. Staying at Okaukuejo Resort, one of the three econo-lodges in the park, I would have a head start in the morning after sunrise. Between dusk and dawn, all guests must be inside the compound gates or else . . . you might become dinner. I began to wonder who was really being watched here. Was it the animals roaming freely in their natural habitat? Or was it the humans huddled together in a circular village behind wire and sharpened wood stakes?

Renewed optimism filled me the next morning after a full night’s sleep and recognizing that today I would travel deeper into the park where more animals might be found. Under some ominous rain clouds, I left the compound gates ready to do some serious shooting, pictures that is.

For three hours I drove roads leading to nowhere with only the lower end of the food chain in site, springbok, gazelle, wildebeast, gnus, impala, kudu and jackals. Self-drive safari’ing was for the birds. My enthusiasm waned to a complete hault as my eye-lids became heavy from straining to make animal shapes out of random bushes in the distance.

But as with many good things, they come to those who wait. My first break was a tip from a passerby in a white 4x4 dual cab pick-up with a thick German accent. He told me where to find a “sleeping rhino”, not far from my location. Hearing the news, I headed around the bend in search of the elusive rhino. Moments later I had my first Big 5 animal staring me down from a standing position next to the tree. He was no longer sleeping and a bit restless. No matter how many times I’ve seen them, I am always in awe of their pre-historic looking outer armor and double horned head. Fortunately, they are vegetarians! ("Can you get that itch for me? Yeah, right there, right there.")

Moving onward with a bit more encouragement that it was actually possible to see the big animals, the one animal I expected not to see appeared roadside an hour or so after the rhino. She was a beautiful leopard cat napping under a tree. From the road I would never have spotted her, but a gathering of four other vehicles tipped me off. On my initial “drive-by” there was not much to see as she was deep in the tan brush. Hours later I would return to find her in the same spot, but alert and acting leopard-like as she rested on a hefty horizontal tree branch.
As the afternoon inched closer to dusk, a visual feast of animals began to appear. Word of a male lion traveled over a lunch table and thanks to the mid-day sun, I found him comfortably resting in the same spot when I arrived. Undisturbed by the five cars pointing cameras at him, the lion seemed to revel in the limelight. This was his red carpet event.
("Nice kitty. Good boy.")

Returning to the compound that night, two elephants with grand white tusks drank from the watering hole just outside the perimeter. Again the scene raised the question as to who was watching whom. Who was captive? Was I in a human zoo? If so, the animals treated us much better than the mockery that often takes place at city zoos.

Etosha may have it right after all. It is not a place for those seeking instant gratification. It is not Disneyland with staged animals waiting to pop out at you from the dark recesses of a wild ride. Rather, the park is one of the last vestiges where you can safely view animals on their own time, on a more level playing field if you will. Like the hunter cats in the park, it requires patience and keen awareness. For those who settle into the land, the animals willingly appear within easy viewing distance of the roadside. Respect is a two-way gravel road between man and the rest of the animal kingdom here in Etosha.