Etosha National Park

Animal Count: Donkey, impala, kudu, elephant, rhino (white and black), wildebeest (gnu to you), giraffe, zebra, gemsbok, steenbok, springbok, everywhere a bok bok, black-faced impala (rare), elephant (not rare), black-backed jackal, bat-eared fox, warthog, honey badger, lion, cheetah, red haartbeest

The name "Etosha" in local parlance means "Great White Place of Dry Water" which not only tells me the local language is more economical with words but also that it is not really that imaginative.  Because it is just that: a great (meaning big and not necessarily wonderful), white (which has a greenish tinge to it as it stretches beyond the horizen and meets the sky), place (within 20,000 square feet of preserved park), dry (understatement - even my shoes have cracked lips), water (it does look like a big, calm sea, but I wonder if there is ever any water in this flat hard pan of salt earth.

We set up camp near one of the water holes.  It's winter, which means water is scarce so it's an excellent time to park it by one of the natural or man made water holes and watch whatever comes along for a drink or a bath.  Our days we spend bumping along trails (no walking allowed - too dangerous!).  The water holes are even lit at night for our viewing pleasure, so it's a bit like a 24 hour live broadcast of the National Geographic channel.  The animals know we are there, once an elepahnt came very close to the stone seats, looked up at us and flapped its ears while waving its trunk and trumpeting in a very intimidating way.  But everyone sits bone silent, so are considered no real threat. 

There's something ethereal and satisfying about sitting in the open air with about 80 strangers, all of whom remain completely silent, all watching animals big and small as they move in and out of the bush.  There was even a sunset watched in perfect silence one evening when there was nothing at the water hole to watch at all.

But the best times were when there were different animals that displayed their feelings and characteristics perfectly, like children at a paddling pool. 

The hierarchy was clear too - which animals had to defer to which other animals and so on, again like people, but this time adults in a conservative place of business or in academia.  We didn't get to test my theory as we did not see lions or leopards, but elephants were clearly the dominant species.  Other animals either moved to the other side to drink furtively or did not even bother but turned around and returned into the bush.

One evening we saw a black rhino at the hole closest to our camp.  He was just standing there by the water, having the odd sip, but mostly just standing.  The sun set.  The rhino stayed.  And then, an elephant family emerged slowly out of the bushes and moved to the water hole.  There was a baby or two amongst them, and you could just see the rhino prick up its ears and start to salivate. The elephants immediately encircled baby, all facing outward in protection mode.

The rhino snorted, pawed the ground menacingly and moved a bit forward.  One mid-sized elephant moved out from the rest, shook his ears and rose his trunk.  Baby was obviously very keen to see what all the fuss was about, and was constantly being yanked back by trunks and redirected by legs and large bodies.  After awhile, rhino realized that one against a herd is not a good idea, and moved back, not away, but back.  The elephants, who are clearly on the top of the water hole hierarchy, bathed and splashed and pooped and drank.  Actually, elephants are the only animals that seem to drink only clean water, and the largest one moved to one side where water was being fed into the water hole.  They all would have liked to go, but big mama was pretty clear in communicating no one gets to drink there until she is finished.  And that took a long time.  I know elephants have to drink more than 200 litres of water a day, but I got the feeling that the matriarch just liked to press her advantage.  She would fill her trunk, then transfer it to her mouth, and you could hear it rattle down her throat into her belly, like water down a metal downspout.


Just when it was getting a little on the repetitive side, out came 2 more rhinos!  The three immediately banded together, had a bit of a conference and then started to move towards the elephants.  Baby was exposed and just the right size for a rhino dinner.  Again one mid-sized pachyderm (perhaps the same one, I did not check its nametag) moved forward and rattled its sabre (or the elephantine equivalent) but the odds were now tipped.  Rhinos are grey-skinned tanks, solid walls of muscle and horn, and even an elephant is no match for 3 rhinos.  There was a lot of huffing and stamping and growling and thrusts and parries, baby again playing the unseen leading role.

I thought I would be soon seeing a vicous fight and wondered if I really wanted to see such a thing, when the party broke up. Rhinos left in a huff, elephants starting to move in the opposite direction, and big mama again hogging the drinking fountain.  Great show.