The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 8: Explosions in Bird Photographer's Heaven

(NOTE:   Clicking on  one photo will bring up a filmstrip where you can see the photos full screen.)

We’re on the Pangolin photo boat on the Chobe River, and I am in a bird-photographer’s heaven.  We are up in a narrow, winding side channel, almost plugged with aquatic vegetation, which is where I have seen a wide variety of birds, both now and in the past.

We’ve been trying to get our long lenses on a tiny Malachite kingfisher, to some degree of success, until it flies off beyond our reach.   Then, the boat driver backs the skiff away from the riverbank and turns to travel farther into the narrowing channel.

Ahead of the boat, a great egret stands in some grass on a small island, and while there are plenty of egrets to photograph, this one is in a particularly nice setting.  Its pure white feathers are set off by the rich green grass.

I turn my heavy camera that is attached to a gimbal mount that allows it to turn in any direction, even in a complete circle, and start shooting.

 

Suddenly, the world explodes.  I have a brief moment of fright before all the pieces come together, and I look to make sure my hunch is correct.

A huge, adult hippo exploded from the water when it sensed our approach.  

 

The egret flies off but returns immediately to land on the hippo’s back.

The boat driver stops, and we watch a comical sight as the egret, not moving a muscle, seems to float on the top of the water toward land.

 

A little laughter to calm the nerves is a good thing.   You can’t take photos if your hands are shaking, gimbal mount or no.  Some of us know how dangerous that situation could have turned in an instant.    You don’t mess with hippos.   Ever.

You don’t sneak up on hippos when they are sleeping—or awake for that matter.   They are one of the most dangerous animals in Africa, rumored to kill about 500 people annually.   They attack and overturn boats, or crunch down on them with their deadly incisors.

Yet, unwittingly, we had approached without warning and startled the hippo.

 

It climbs onshore and walks closer to our boats, where it proceeds to show us how dangerous it is by opening its mouth to expose its weapons.   A hippo can open its jaws almost 180 degrees.

Crunch and munch, and you aren't getting outta that mouth alive.

That warning accomplished, it proceeds to start grazing on the lush grass, and we work our way farther into the channel.

On our return, the hippo isn’t in sight, but a Malachite kingfisher is, so it becomes the object of our cameras.  

 

 Once again, we move slowly through some floating vegetation toward shore, only to flush a crocodile sleeping in shallow water.  

 Another explosion of water!

The croc goes deep.   We stay and photograph the kingfisher.

 

                                    

 

 

Long-toed lapwing

Juvenile African Jacana

The magnificent Purple heron

Openbill stork

Swamphen

 

            

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 7: The Bucket List

            A few years ago, before my bank account grabbed me by the throat and told me to stop jaunting around the world or  I'd wind up living in someone’s basement, I had a short bucket list of things I wanted to see before I died.

            Very short:

1.      Blue throat (bird)

2.     Shoebill stork

3.     Sable (animal, not the fur coat)

4.     Narwhal.

 

I was thrilled to cross off the Blue Throat by making a trip to Nome, Alaska, that didn’t bankrupt me.   The rest?   I was resigned, reluctantly, to never seeing them.

 

***

 

This morning our guides are taking us into a part of Chobe National Park that I didn’t even know existed.  It was a long drive before we turned off the main road onto a dirt road that led through some luscious greenery.   

I mentioned that I thought it was quite pretty, and our guide explained that this area collects a lot of water during the rains, and thus the trees and bushes are greener.

We pass some solar panels.   What?   Many places in the reserves and private conservancies construct waterholes to keep the animals around the area.  The energy accumulated operates a pump that provides water to a low spot.

Unfortunately for this waterhole, the baboons and vervets enjoy swinging on the associated wires and cables at the solar panels, so the pump isn’t working.

We are met by a quartet of Burchell’s zebra.   They seem curious, but leery.  Zebras are skittish animals.   They turn their backs on us, and we drive on a bit farther.

There are three elephants at the waterhole, except that the waterhole is dry.   The largest elephant is in the dry hole, and dozens and dozens of doves fly around it, land, take off, etc., etc, etc.   The two smaller ellies wait for their turn.

The zebras come closer and linger on the outskirts.

This male is sniffing the urine of a female.

And exhibits the Flehman response:  "... to analyze complex chemical signals, especially pheromones, using the vomeronasal (Jacobson's) organ for detailed communication about reproductive status, social information, and territory."    In other words, he is smelling in high definition.

Our guide and driver decide to leave, and we go back a short distance where the road splits.   Suddenly, some very dark animals appear.

 

THEY ARE SABLE!   

 I am gobsmacked.   This is an animal so elusive it could be a fable.    But they are right in front of me!

We take “insurance” photos.   The sables are moving into thick trees and brush.   We hurry back to the waterhole and set up for photos.   I jokingly tell the guide that I will never forgive him if the sable don’t appear at the waterhole.   He smiles, knowing how much I am enjoying this sighting.

Sure enough, they appear on a slight rise and carefull inch closer.   Animals know they are especially vulnerable at waterholes because that’s where predators hide to await their chance to strike.

Sable.  Bucket list sable.   I am overjoyed.    I know what my answer will be when Marg askes at supper what our favorite sighting was.

 

I take dozens of photos, hoping some are worthy of these animals.   They are a variety called “Common Sable.”   There is NOTHING common about them.  They are beautiful.

        Compact and robust with coats that range from rich chestnut to black, males are almost five feet high at the shoulder and weigh about 500 lbs.   Females are smaller.    Both sexes have horns.

        Of the several varieties of sable, only the Giant Sable of Angola are critically threatened.

 

        I am terribly sorry that the waterhole is dry.  It means a journey of three miles or so to the river, through territory occupied by lions.

        Eventually, the sable herd leaves, heading in the general direction of the Chobe River.

        The zebras are still hanging around.   As are the doves.   Then a vervet appears, also wanting a drink.   It cannot believe there is no water.

Your eyes are not deceiving you.   Obviously a male and yes, they are blue.

        We, too, leave the dry waterhole.   

        For me, this is the highlight of the trip so far.    While I would very much like to see the two remaining items on my bucket list, I am inclined to think that having an open bucket list is a godod thing.

 

1.      Blue throat (bird)

2.     Shoebill stork

3.     Sable (animal, not the fur coat)

4.     Narwhal.

 

😍