The Okavango Delta: one of a few natural wonders, like the Masai Mara in Kenya and northern part of Mozambique, that typifies Africa and is seemingly worlds away from any human society or community. It is a rich jewel in an otherwise harsh environment.
A remote location in the far northwest of Botswana the Delta sits just below the phallic Caprivi Strip of Namibia and the even-lesser known nation of Angola beyond that. Although I cannot be certain, I suspect that the name ‘Botswana’ first entered my mind as a result of reading of travellers’ accounts in the Delta, supported by more recent documentaries that so brilliantly capture the essence of the Delta, by air, water and land. It is the tourism gem of Botswana that a lucky few wait half a lifetime to visit. And so begins quite a long piece, for there is much to say about this incredible mega oasis.
The Okavango Delta is the result of flooding in the highlands of Angola to the north. Each year, the water flows downwards through the Okavango River and into the Delta, a 15,000 sq. km network of rivers, channels and pools that is home to an incredible collection of mammals, reptiles, birds and plants. The Delta is almost completely flat which allows for the water to be spread over such a massive range. With water comes life, and nothing says life more than blue-green-blue pattern in the middle of the surrounding Kalahari desert.
The point of departure is Maun, a remote and slightly bizarre town in the northwest of Botswana. I was working in Maun during the week assisting with a project for the Ministry of Education. An Australian, I am used to hot weather, but Maun takes it up one notch. At least 40 degrees every day and little relief from the sun as there are few trees, and definitely no rain or cloud in this part of the desert. Accentuated by the start of October, known locally as ‘suicide October’, the extreme heat saps the energy and shifts the mind into a trance-like state. Thankfully, at approximately 1,000 metres altitude, the humidity is almost zero. (Batswana love talking about the weather, so you can probably tell that I fit right in. Anyway, I digress.) Maun is a town of cattle farmers, South African charter pilots servicing the Delta and a few hippies, and it’s clear the heat and isolation does strange things to the mind.
I had spent most of the Friday working in a stuffy office with no air con and little-to-no breeze offering from the heat. I was hot and bothered, and the thought of a flight on a tiny six-seat plane through air that was as hot and unstable as I was, was not my idea of fun. How wrong I was…
The flight to my camp, Moremi Crossing, lasted only 20 minutes and so it was over before I realised. That was a shame for the flight itself was incredible with views I could have gazed upon for hours. I was the only passenger on board and so was immediately upgraded to the cockpit. At only 1,500 feet above land, you circle over the town and Maun River before heading north-west. The town disappears and the cattle posts begin to thin out, be-it amazing already that cattle can survive at all in this landscape. This is true desert, the sand being almost as fine and grey as dust. The few trees that exist amongst the sand are so dry it seems as though extreme fire passed through the whole region.
After 5-10 minutes, the landscape begins to change as water appears. Firstly in isolated pools, which are almost completely dry in anticipation of the new flood waters. It progressively gets greener with every further minute north. Soon, distinct river branches become clear, with networks of swamps linking the pools and creating a haven for a growing number of trees and grasses. And then the wildlife appears – fully-mature elephants walking alongside the river and doing their best to stay hydrated, and cool, in this challenging climate. A herd of buffalo take over a patch of swamp, although from the air, they are little more than a microscopic piece of the Delta. And then there is something running in the distance – I cannot quite distinguish it but suspect it a small herd of antelope, most likely lechwe or tsessebe. At this point, the emotion was taking over, having realised I was arriving in one of the most untouched, remote pockets of Africa, one in which incredibly few people have the fortune to experience. Before we land, we do a fly-by at merely a few metres above the airstrip to scare off any zebra or buffalo that would interrupt an otherwise smooth landing.
The photos of this landscape from the air do it little justice.
I was staying at a wet camp, which is a lodge that is only accessible from water, within Moremi Game Reserve, a national park on the eastern side of the Delta. Because of the remoteness and difficulty in crossing waterways for most of the year, entry to most of the camps in the region is by small aircraft. This means almost all activities whilst at camp are water-based, primarily in mekoro, which are traditional dugout canoes that have long been used to travel through the swamps by the local tribes. Sitting in a mokoro, one gracefully glides amongst the reeds, the path known only by the local guide. Thankfully there were no surprises by the hippos, which are known to flip the occasional mokoro when feeling grumpy.
The Delta is a bird-watcher’s paradise. Now I always confess to being a very amateur ornithologist, and get a bigger thrill from a big cat hunt, but the concentration of some of the big birds along stretches of the river was remarkable. Of note was the African fish-eagle, of which there was a distinct pair living quite literally around every river bend.
The challenge with staying in a wet camp is the inability to track animals in a 4x4 as they sneak off into the bush (the lesson: stay at a mixed wet and dry camp). In a boat, one is limited to what can be seen from the water. And so although we had glimpses of lion, leopard and buffalo, they were only fleeting. However we still got up close to some of the locals including ‘Little Dave’, an adolescent male elephant who regularly visits Moremi Crossing and frightened more than one naïve American by drinking from the outdoor shower as they carried out their business. I can hardly talk – Little Dave also took a liking to my tent in the middle of the night and, justifiably, scared the hell out of me! The interesting thing though, I was concerned only when I thought it was a human ransacking my tent, for as soon as I remembered where I was, and that it was more likely a wild animal outside, the elephant was of no further concern – which confirms I’m more scared of my fellow species! That’s what growing up in Australia (or Africa) does to you.
The true highlight of this trip was a walking safari on the very first afternoon. After taking a mokoro to a nearby island, we were walking for about 25 minutes before coming across a pack of 23 wild dogs. As regular readers may remember, I had come across these beautiful creatures once before in the South Luangwa valley and here it was equally as special. They were very relaxed, although conscious we were close, but carried on playing and chasing each other around in a shallow swamp, adults and juveniles alike. It was slightly intimidating though, as these dogs amazing hunters and are famous for hunting both as a pack and taking down prey many, many times their size…
The Okavango Delta was a destination highlight for my stay in Botswana to date. A few have commented that I seem to be spending almost as much time in South Africa or elsewhere in the region, which is almost true. However the Delta was certainly a reminder of the beauty, and uniqueness of this incredible country. I plan on visiting again mid-late next year, so for those who have been in touch and want to visit, perhaps save yourself for this one!
