When I was in Namibia earlier this year, I had a chance to see several rock hyrax up close. I came across them in the Damaraland region, living among the boulders in the dry desert landscape. Rock hyrax are small mammals resembling guinea pigs, distributed across Africa and the Middle East. However, their closest living relative is actually the elephant.
At first they seemed very skittish, but I found that if I just sat down and was still, they could get curious and would creep closer. I small face would appear around the side of a boulder and then quickly disappear, only to reemerge in a closer location.
Unique among the hyrax is a dorsal gland that is used for territorial markings. Here is can be seen as an area of matted down fur on its middle back.
Although they can live among groups of up to 80 individuals, I only saw a few during my stay. They were a cute and pleasant variety to the larger mammals I saw there.
My last blog post detailed my experience with five endangered black rhino at the Okaukuejo Waterhole in Ethosa National Park, Namibia. But that’s certainly not all I saw during those long quiet hours in the dead of night.
I arrived at the waterhole just as the sun was setting behind the horizon. Night is the best time to see wildlife here, and to facilitate wildlife viewing, this camp has set up a flood light by which to see the nocturnal visitors. Quite a few people gathered at the waterhole to watch the sunset, but soon they were off to dinner and bed. Over the next hour, the crowds thinned out and only the die-hards remained for a long night’s wait.
One of the more common visitors were the zebra. One night a small herd came at dusk, but it was those few that crept up to the waterhole in the middle of the night that were more fun to watch. The absolute silence was only disrupted by the soft crunching of rocks under their feet, as they lined the edge of the water to drink. The stillness of the water cast a perfect reflection. However there was no chance to relax, as any little sound had the zebra darting their gaze to the darkness, trying to see beyond the wall of black.
Zebra gave way to giraffe, which traveling in ones and twos. In order to capture photos of these animals at night, I had my 400mm lens locked down on the tripod, my mirror locked up, and my shutter speed just slow enough to gather the required light. Keep the shutter too slow, and the animal was more likely to move during the exposure. It was a careful balance of predicting animal behavior, and making sure all my camera functions were set correctly.
One of my favorite sights was the comical way in which giraffe drank water. They had to contort their bodies and spread their front legs in order to bring their heads low enough to the ground to drink.
I did see an elephant in the early hours of morning. However luck was not on my side, and none of my photos turned out. There was too much movement from this giant beast to capture under low lights.
I would certainly recommend this type of experience to wildlife lovers. It was incredibly intimate to watch these animals interacting under the cover of darkness, with nobody else around. It was a wildlife cathedral I was lucky enough to attend!
The endangered black rhino was long thought to be solitary and territorial, usually alone and resting most of the day in deep brush. On a recent trip to Namibia, I was hoping to see one of these rare creatures in the wild. With a worldwide wild population of only 5000, I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to see one. Not only did I get my wish, but what I saw was counter to every description I’ve read about these animals.
I was traveling with a group through Namibia, photographing both wildlife and the incredible landscapes of that country. We spent a couple of nights in Etosha National Park, a stop on every wildlife tourist’s “todo” list. Okaukuejo camp features a natural waterhole that is kept floodlit all night. This allows visitors to view the amazing variety of wildlife that frequents the waterhole only at night. Knowing that the black rhino makes itself scarce during the day, I was hoping for a nocturnal sighting.
I waited and waited long into the night, with nothing to show for my weariness. I had a tripod mounted Canon 100-400mm lens with a new 50 megapixel Canon 5DSr attached to the back. At about 3:00 in the morning, just as I was about to pack up my gear, the silent darkness was disturbed by an incredibly loud crunching sound. Suddenly, an impossibly large form emerged from the brush a mere 50 yards from my position. My heart leapt into my throat – it was a black rhino!
Even more surprising was the baby rhino that followed closely behind. I couldn’t believe my luck in seeing not one but two of these rare creatures. After drinking by the water’s edge, the mother walked into the water to bathe. Soon her timid baby followed, and they ventured into water up to their stomachs, drinking as they went.
As they emerged from the water, they looked like some kind of strange half-white, half-black creature, as the water and washed away all the dust from the surrounding landscape. After a few more minutes, they wandered back into the brush, content. I was certainly happy to have lucked out on my first night, but was hopeful to see them again the next night, now that I knew they were in the area.
The next night I didn’t have to wait long. Soon after sunset, two rhinos emerged from the brush. These were two full grown adults, and based on the lack of a baby, I figured that neither of these was the mother from the night before. After a quick drink, the two faced each other. Expecting some kind of fierce territorial battle, I was shocked to see them rub their faces against each other (see lead photo). Exchanging soft grunts (or at least as softly as a huge beast like this can grunt), they stood like this for several moments, touching horns and nuzzling each other. This certainly didn’t look like the solitary hermits I had read about before my trip!
As I was watching these two, the mother and baby from the night before came to the edge of the water. Finally, a fifth black rhino joined the party by the waterhole. At this point, I was expecting a confrontation of some sort, having seen protective wild animal mothers with their babies before. Surely one of these large adults would get too close to the baby and then the action would start!
Not only did none of that happen, but the five rhinos seemed almost sweet with each other. For the next half an hour, these nocturnal socialites drank and mingled, exchanging pleasantries (read: more grunting at each other). The baby was free to wander among the other rhinos. Before they left, I caught a quick video of them all together.
With my only experience consisting of two nights, I have no idea how rare or common it was to see this type of behavior. But rare or not, I was in awe of these amazing creatures and felt blessed to be given an opportunity to photograph them.
When I was little, I had a picture book about the wildlife of Africa. Due to my fascination with this book, the pages soon became dog-eared and worn. My favorite image was that of a large, strange looking bird. Half crane, half eagle, this creature looked like nothing I had even dreamed of. Even the name, “Secretarybird” seemed odd and out of place. Over the years, my obsession with this bird became a distant childhood memory.
When I suddenly saw this creature in the flesh, stalking through the brush just beyond the window of our van, these memories rushed back to me like a flood. Suddenly I was a wide eyed child staring at the worn page of this picture book – but this time the unworldly creation was moving! “Secretarybird!” I called out to the others in the van, surprising myself with unconscious recall.
The secretarybird stands up to 4.5 feet tall and is a mostly land-based bird of prey. Instead of swooping on its prey like most other hunters, it prefers to stomp on small prey (such as mice, hares, mongoose, crabs, lizards, snakes, and tortoises) with its large feet. There are two theories about how its name came about. One is that this bird resembled secretaries of old, who used to tuck their writing quill behind their ear. As this bird’s head feathers look like quills, this is origin seems plausible. The other main theory is that the name is derived from a French corruption of the Arabic saqr-et-tair, or hunter-bird.
Here is another secretarybird I saw later in the day. Here you can see it out in the open hunting in the short grass.
It was truly an amazing experience to see this bird in action only a few yards away. I had long forgotten this amazing animal from my past. As a child with a picture book, I never thought I’d actually see one out in wild Africa.
Gear I used to create the photos in this post:
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