Nope, didn't carry - but I would nearly run out even with a spare, would just mean I gamble a few hundred kilometres later.
-
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South Africa revisited, Felines and Critters of the Night (2 Viewers)
- Thread starter Jos Stratford
- Start date
Nope, didn't carry - but I would nearly run out even with a spare, would just mean I gamble a few hundred kilometres later.
12 July. De Hoop.
Dawn, dense thickets surrounding the campsite. One Spotted Eagle Owl perched in a gnarled milkwood, musical duets echoing out from cavorting Southern Boubous, Cape Robin-Chats emerging from cover in all directions.
In these here thickets, a couple of specialities frequently lurk in the form of Southern Tchagra and Knysna Woodpecker. Both often fairly elusive, I meandered around, peering into bushes, wandering along the vlei a little - plenty of Fiscal Flycatchers, a couple of Sombre Greenbuls, occasional Bar-throated Apalis, even a fluky Rufous-cheeked Nightjar found roosting on a patch of bare ground, but 'the De Hoop Two' didn't seem to want to play ball, my best efforts drawing a total blank. Eventually gave up and began to wander back to my tent, African Black Swifts thundering overhead, a few Little Swifts and Alpine Swifts also milling. Troops of Baboons were climbing up from the cliffs to begin their foraging. Almost back at the tent, from one low bush to another, across flew a bird looking most tchagra-like. And indeed it was, not one, but a pair of Southern Tchagra appearing in the low crown of the thicket, very nice.
Coffee at the tent, Southern Boubous hopping up for scraps, then time for a quick drive to the coast a few kilometres further south. Always a chance of Caracal in the coastal dunes, but our mammal tally included no cats - the main attractions being a herd of about 60 Eland, about ten Grey Rhebok, abundant Bontebok and, at the small end of the scale, two Vlei Rats. From atop a dune, an impressive view, white beaches stretching far to the east and west, low breakers of the Indian Ocean lapping and assorted birds congregating on the sand and rocky outcrops, Black Oystercatchers and Caspian Tern amongst. Far better however, rolling and flopping a little beyond the surf, early returnee Southern Right Whales, dozens of them all the way along. Most glorious it is to sit upon the sand with these giants in the blue waters just yonder, even more so when a pod of Long-beaked Common Dolphins began riding the waves too.
Back at camp, Baboons had trashed my tent, the swines. No food inside, but still they had 'opened' the inner tent to investigate, naturally not bothering with the zipper. So nice to have a tent with an added window!!! Decamped and chucked everything in the car and then headed off for the highlight of the day, an exploration of the vlei and its thousands of birds.
Walked about six or seven kilometres, stopping on outcrops every so often to scan the water. Countless thousands of Red-billed Coot and Yellow-billed Duck, many hundreds of Little Grebe, Cape Shoveler and Southern Pochard. And in amongst these teeming masses, Cape Teals galore, gatherings of both Spur-winged and Egyptian Geese, and, in flotillas the length of the vlei, White Pelicans, a minimum of 120 present. Careful scanning added a few extras - White-backed Duck (a flock of 12), Maccoa Duck (a single) and Hottentot Teal (two). Not only the open waters full of birds, but the banks too - dozens of cormorants (three species), plenty of Anhingas, quite a lot of herons and egrets (including Intermediate Egret) and smaller numbers of Greater Flamingo, African Spoonbill, Glossy Ibis and Hammerkop. Also many waders, predominantly Black-winged Stilts and White-fronted Plovers, but also including a pair of Water Thick-knees.
By now mid-afternoon, black skies began to edge in from the west, the blue fast retreating. Through pastures full of Ostrich and a handful of Cape Mountain Zebra, we hurried. Bokmakierie and Cape Sugarbird en-route, Capped Wheatears hopping along, spits of rain began to fall just as we got to the car. And then the heavens opened, a deluge of biblical proportions hammering down. Oo er, time to leave - let's cut and run, off to cozy Cape Town ...a day earlier than planned, but the idea of a hotel room did seem quite appealing. Stopped for rather nice fish and chips in Bredasdorp, the towns roads looking like raging rivers, then pushed on to reach Cape Town a little after dark, the roads over Sir Lowry's Pass a tad dodgy in the poor weather.
By some miracle, the rain let up just as we arrived, so after checking into our hotel, we took the opportunity to take a wander, popping down to the town's very nice Waterfront, shopping malls and restaurants with a real touch of class.
Dawn, dense thickets surrounding the campsite. One Spotted Eagle Owl perched in a gnarled milkwood, musical duets echoing out from cavorting Southern Boubous, Cape Robin-Chats emerging from cover in all directions.
In these here thickets, a couple of specialities frequently lurk in the form of Southern Tchagra and Knysna Woodpecker. Both often fairly elusive, I meandered around, peering into bushes, wandering along the vlei a little - plenty of Fiscal Flycatchers, a couple of Sombre Greenbuls, occasional Bar-throated Apalis, even a fluky Rufous-cheeked Nightjar found roosting on a patch of bare ground, but 'the De Hoop Two' didn't seem to want to play ball, my best efforts drawing a total blank. Eventually gave up and began to wander back to my tent, African Black Swifts thundering overhead, a few Little Swifts and Alpine Swifts also milling. Troops of Baboons were climbing up from the cliffs to begin their foraging. Almost back at the tent, from one low bush to another, across flew a bird looking most tchagra-like. And indeed it was, not one, but a pair of Southern Tchagra appearing in the low crown of the thicket, very nice.
Coffee at the tent, Southern Boubous hopping up for scraps, then time for a quick drive to the coast a few kilometres further south. Always a chance of Caracal in the coastal dunes, but our mammal tally included no cats - the main attractions being a herd of about 60 Eland, about ten Grey Rhebok, abundant Bontebok and, at the small end of the scale, two Vlei Rats. From atop a dune, an impressive view, white beaches stretching far to the east and west, low breakers of the Indian Ocean lapping and assorted birds congregating on the sand and rocky outcrops, Black Oystercatchers and Caspian Tern amongst. Far better however, rolling and flopping a little beyond the surf, early returnee Southern Right Whales, dozens of them all the way along. Most glorious it is to sit upon the sand with these giants in the blue waters just yonder, even more so when a pod of Long-beaked Common Dolphins began riding the waves too.
Back at camp, Baboons had trashed my tent, the swines. No food inside, but still they had 'opened' the inner tent to investigate, naturally not bothering with the zipper. So nice to have a tent with an added window!!! Decamped and chucked everything in the car and then headed off for the highlight of the day, an exploration of the vlei and its thousands of birds.
Walked about six or seven kilometres, stopping on outcrops every so often to scan the water. Countless thousands of Red-billed Coot and Yellow-billed Duck, many hundreds of Little Grebe, Cape Shoveler and Southern Pochard. And in amongst these teeming masses, Cape Teals galore, gatherings of both Spur-winged and Egyptian Geese, and, in flotillas the length of the vlei, White Pelicans, a minimum of 120 present. Careful scanning added a few extras - White-backed Duck (a flock of 12), Maccoa Duck (a single) and Hottentot Teal (two). Not only the open waters full of birds, but the banks too - dozens of cormorants (three species), plenty of Anhingas, quite a lot of herons and egrets (including Intermediate Egret) and smaller numbers of Greater Flamingo, African Spoonbill, Glossy Ibis and Hammerkop. Also many waders, predominantly Black-winged Stilts and White-fronted Plovers, but also including a pair of Water Thick-knees.
By now mid-afternoon, black skies began to edge in from the west, the blue fast retreating. Through pastures full of Ostrich and a handful of Cape Mountain Zebra, we hurried. Bokmakierie and Cape Sugarbird en-route, Capped Wheatears hopping along, spits of rain began to fall just as we got to the car. And then the heavens opened, a deluge of biblical proportions hammering down. Oo er, time to leave - let's cut and run, off to cozy Cape Town ...a day earlier than planned, but the idea of a hotel room did seem quite appealing. Stopped for rather nice fish and chips in Bredasdorp, the towns roads looking like raging rivers, then pushed on to reach Cape Town a little after dark, the roads over Sir Lowry's Pass a tad dodgy in the poor weather.
By some miracle, the rain let up just as we arrived, so after checking into our hotel, we took the opportunity to take a wander, popping down to the town's very nice Waterfront, shopping malls and restaurants with a real touch of class.
Farnboro John
Well-known member
dbradnum
Well-known member
Sounds like another very enviable trip...
Suzanne and I spent nearly three weeks this summer around Cape Town, West Coast, the Tanqua Karoo, Wilderness and De Hoop. Wonderful hospitality, stunning scenery, and great birding and wildlife from start tov finish.
Large thumbs up to Birding Africa, who arranged cheap car hire and excellent accommodation at favourable rates. Marje is a great contact when you're trying to work out the logistics of your trip, since she and Callan clearly know the country and birds very well.
In particular, Gannaga Lodge and the Wilderness Country House are fantastic!
Suzanne and I spent nearly three weeks this summer around Cape Town, West Coast, the Tanqua Karoo, Wilderness and De Hoop. Wonderful hospitality, stunning scenery, and great birding and wildlife from start tov finish.
Large thumbs up to Birding Africa, who arranged cheap car hire and excellent accommodation at favourable rates. Marje is a great contact when you're trying to work out the logistics of your trip, since she and Callan clearly know the country and birds very well.
In particular, Gannaga Lodge and the Wilderness Country House are fantastic!
redeyedvideo
It's like water off a duck's back!
Excellent stuff as usual Jos. I'm also catching up on the other trip reports linked to for future trip planning, thanks all.
13 July. Sir Lowry's Pass & the Cape Peninsula.
The following day I was due to embark on a pelagic into the waters south of Cape Town. One look at the conditions on this morning however suggested the trip was almost certainly going to be cancelled, winds blustering in from the east, the sea stormy and occasional squalls to liven things up. Darn, I thought, I'd only been hanging around the Western Cape for the previous week to await this sea trip!
Anyhow, back to the present, I quite fancied a Cape Rockjumper to kick the day off, so heading back along the N1, all too soon we were again climbing the roads to Sir Lowry's Pass, splendid views across False Bay and back to Table Mountain. On the brow of the ridge, though quite sunny, the wind was just incredible - a slip of the hand and I think the car doors would have blown all the way back to Cape Town!
What hope of seeing birds? Struggling again the wind, with occasional Orange-breasted Sunbirds making brave attempts to stay aloft, I soon understood I would need to climb to the summit and drop down to the hopefully sheltered western side. And that I did, majestic White-necked Ravens playing on the wind as I struggled to remain upright, a pair of Sentinel Rock Thrushes on one of the upper slopes. And, just as I had hoped, in the immediate lea of the summit, a broad ledge of grass and rock where the wind barely russled the blades, bliss. Here would be my birds.
Five minutes later, I was perched on a rock with my quarry hopping and scurrying about in front, no less than five Cape Rockjumpers in all their glory, one even popping up just a few metres in front! Nice. Also Cape Bunting and several Familiar Chats. And then a glance to the east, 'oh crap', I muttered, the blackest of black skies racing in to obliterate the sun. No hope of getting back to the car I understood, the rain was just minutes away. I darted around the rocks, found a cubby hole and slunk inside, just in time! Down it came, a wild mix of rain and hail, the wind going sideways even in this sheltered spot. Warm and cozy in my hole, I sat it out, the storm fortunately only lasting ten minutes. And then I legged it all the way back to the car, flushing a Cape Grassbird en route and arriving back at the car to the smirks of my companion who had again decided a book was preferable to masochism on a mountain.
For the rest of the day, almost entirely sunny, we opted for a pleasant tour of the Cape Peninsula, the main stops being for a waddle with the African Penguins at Simon's Town, a short seawatch over False Bay (White-chinned Petrel and Subantarctic Skua the highlights) and a stroll in the mountains of the interior, the last producing Verreaux's Eagle, Cape Siskin and loads more Orange-breasted Sunbirds. Other highlights were coffee in Kommetjie, all four species of cormorant, six Black Oystercatchers and, naturally, the stunning landscapes throughout.
Back in Cape Town, the inevitable news - no chance of the pelagic next day, winds forecast to batter on incessantly. Maybe the following day, they said.
14 July. Kirstenbosch & Rooi Els
With the pelagic cancelled, though still possible for the following day, I toyed with the idea of just cutting and running, the lure of the Kalahari most tempting. However, I eventually settled on the option to kill a day in the Cape Town area and gamble that the weather might calm down.
Splitting up for the day, my partner in crime had desires for Great White Sharks in Gans Bay, the cage diving experience that offers the chance to virtually tickle the noses of these super predators. Being a total scrooge, I however opted for a far more sedate alternative, a day of leasure in the Kirstenbosch botanical gardens, the idea being to photograph Cape Sugarbirds.
On the slopes of Table Mountain, Kirstenborsch is one of the world's great botanical gardens, an impressive floral mix of alloes, proteas and ericas set between manicured lawns and an extensive network of paths and trails. Eyes up, towering ramparts of Table Mountain rising to the sky; eyes down, birds flitting in each and every direction. Entering the gardens, birds are immediately apparent - Cape Francolins, Hadeda Ibis and Helmeted Guineafowl on the lawns, Cape Bulbuls and Cape Robin-Chats in the flowering beds, Southern Double-collared Sunbirds at every other flowerhead. A short stroll through indigenous forest and thick undergrowth along the Braille Trail added the first flocks of Cape White-eyes, plus Sombre Bulbul, Dusky Flycatcher and, after a bit of searching, a Lemon Dove. Eight Olive Pigeons also seen in adjacent tall trees.
As I meandered up through the gardens I eventually reached the protea gardens - plenty of time spent here, a Rufous-cheeked Sparrowhawk one of the highlights, Swee Waxbills and Forest Canaries amongst the others, plus very photogenic Dusky Flycatchers and Cape Robin-Chats. However, despite quite a number of circuits, I spectacularly managed not to see a single Cape Sugarbird, a species normally quite common here. Eventually I gave up and, as midday approached and the gardens began to attract more and more general tourists, I decided to leave.
Still keen on photographing some Cape Sugarbirds, I then travelled round to the far side of False Bay to try my luck on the coastal fynbos at Rooi Els, another of the Cape's very spectacular stretches of coastline. A very good move this turned out to be, not only did I find a flock of eight Cape Sugarbirds almost immediately, but one just sat on a protea in the sunshine and posed for pictures just a few metres away, my photographic desires duly satisfied. Plentiful Orange-breasted Sunbirds also present, plus a Cape Grassbird, three Cape Siskins, a Fiscal Flycatcher and, on the cliffs above, one Verreaux's Eagle.
For day that was spent 'killing time', I was most content, a Klipspringer on departure adding to the contentment, a troop of Baboons also seen, plus Cape Fur Seals in the sea adjacent. Back in Cape Town, good news all around - my friend had not been chomped by the Great White Sharks and, better still, all was go-go for the pelagic next day!
The following day I was due to embark on a pelagic into the waters south of Cape Town. One look at the conditions on this morning however suggested the trip was almost certainly going to be cancelled, winds blustering in from the east, the sea stormy and occasional squalls to liven things up. Darn, I thought, I'd only been hanging around the Western Cape for the previous week to await this sea trip!
Anyhow, back to the present, I quite fancied a Cape Rockjumper to kick the day off, so heading back along the N1, all too soon we were again climbing the roads to Sir Lowry's Pass, splendid views across False Bay and back to Table Mountain. On the brow of the ridge, though quite sunny, the wind was just incredible - a slip of the hand and I think the car doors would have blown all the way back to Cape Town!
What hope of seeing birds? Struggling again the wind, with occasional Orange-breasted Sunbirds making brave attempts to stay aloft, I soon understood I would need to climb to the summit and drop down to the hopefully sheltered western side. And that I did, majestic White-necked Ravens playing on the wind as I struggled to remain upright, a pair of Sentinel Rock Thrushes on one of the upper slopes. And, just as I had hoped, in the immediate lea of the summit, a broad ledge of grass and rock where the wind barely russled the blades, bliss. Here would be my birds.
Five minutes later, I was perched on a rock with my quarry hopping and scurrying about in front, no less than five Cape Rockjumpers in all their glory, one even popping up just a few metres in front! Nice. Also Cape Bunting and several Familiar Chats. And then a glance to the east, 'oh crap', I muttered, the blackest of black skies racing in to obliterate the sun. No hope of getting back to the car I understood, the rain was just minutes away. I darted around the rocks, found a cubby hole and slunk inside, just in time! Down it came, a wild mix of rain and hail, the wind going sideways even in this sheltered spot. Warm and cozy in my hole, I sat it out, the storm fortunately only lasting ten minutes. And then I legged it all the way back to the car, flushing a Cape Grassbird en route and arriving back at the car to the smirks of my companion who had again decided a book was preferable to masochism on a mountain.
For the rest of the day, almost entirely sunny, we opted for a pleasant tour of the Cape Peninsula, the main stops being for a waddle with the African Penguins at Simon's Town, a short seawatch over False Bay (White-chinned Petrel and Subantarctic Skua the highlights) and a stroll in the mountains of the interior, the last producing Verreaux's Eagle, Cape Siskin and loads more Orange-breasted Sunbirds. Other highlights were coffee in Kommetjie, all four species of cormorant, six Black Oystercatchers and, naturally, the stunning landscapes throughout.
Back in Cape Town, the inevitable news - no chance of the pelagic next day, winds forecast to batter on incessantly. Maybe the following day, they said.
14 July. Kirstenbosch & Rooi Els
With the pelagic cancelled, though still possible for the following day, I toyed with the idea of just cutting and running, the lure of the Kalahari most tempting. However, I eventually settled on the option to kill a day in the Cape Town area and gamble that the weather might calm down.
Splitting up for the day, my partner in crime had desires for Great White Sharks in Gans Bay, the cage diving experience that offers the chance to virtually tickle the noses of these super predators. Being a total scrooge, I however opted for a far more sedate alternative, a day of leasure in the Kirstenbosch botanical gardens, the idea being to photograph Cape Sugarbirds.
On the slopes of Table Mountain, Kirstenborsch is one of the world's great botanical gardens, an impressive floral mix of alloes, proteas and ericas set between manicured lawns and an extensive network of paths and trails. Eyes up, towering ramparts of Table Mountain rising to the sky; eyes down, birds flitting in each and every direction. Entering the gardens, birds are immediately apparent - Cape Francolins, Hadeda Ibis and Helmeted Guineafowl on the lawns, Cape Bulbuls and Cape Robin-Chats in the flowering beds, Southern Double-collared Sunbirds at every other flowerhead. A short stroll through indigenous forest and thick undergrowth along the Braille Trail added the first flocks of Cape White-eyes, plus Sombre Bulbul, Dusky Flycatcher and, after a bit of searching, a Lemon Dove. Eight Olive Pigeons also seen in adjacent tall trees.
As I meandered up through the gardens I eventually reached the protea gardens - plenty of time spent here, a Rufous-cheeked Sparrowhawk one of the highlights, Swee Waxbills and Forest Canaries amongst the others, plus very photogenic Dusky Flycatchers and Cape Robin-Chats. However, despite quite a number of circuits, I spectacularly managed not to see a single Cape Sugarbird, a species normally quite common here. Eventually I gave up and, as midday approached and the gardens began to attract more and more general tourists, I decided to leave.
Still keen on photographing some Cape Sugarbirds, I then travelled round to the far side of False Bay to try my luck on the coastal fynbos at Rooi Els, another of the Cape's very spectacular stretches of coastline. A very good move this turned out to be, not only did I find a flock of eight Cape Sugarbirds almost immediately, but one just sat on a protea in the sunshine and posed for pictures just a few metres away, my photographic desires duly satisfied. Plentiful Orange-breasted Sunbirds also present, plus a Cape Grassbird, three Cape Siskins, a Fiscal Flycatcher and, on the cliffs above, one Verreaux's Eagle.
For day that was spent 'killing time', I was most content, a Klipspringer on departure adding to the contentment, a troop of Baboons also seen, plus Cape Fur Seals in the sea adjacent. Back in Cape Town, good news all around - my friend had not been chomped by the Great White Sharks and, better still, all was go-go for the pelagic next day!
JWN Andrewes
Poor Judge of Pasta.
Good grief! There are Rockjumpers up on Sir Lowry's Pass now without brightly coloured plastic rings!
Enjoying the report Jos.
Cheers
James
Enjoying the report Jos.
Cheers
James
15 July. Pelagic Birding.
Simon's Town, pre-dawn, six of us sheltering under the canopy of a quayside cafe, drizzle sweeping in. Hmm, this was not looking good! Though the forecast talked of cold fronts battering the Cape over the coming days, we were supposed to be sailing out in one of the few calm windows available. Boarding the small boat, with the taking of a couple of anti-sickness pills seeming most prudent, out of the harbour we motored out to greet the approaching dawn. Swift Terns, Cape and Hartlaub’s Gulls quickly seen, as well as lines of Cape Cormorants on the buoys and the first Cape Gannets winging past.
Half way to Cape Point, still in the relative calm of False Bay, we picked up a number of White-chinned Petrels, indicative that a cold front had passed over and an onshore wind was still blowing. Reaching Cape Point, the skies darkened and soon we were travelling through a rain squall, the boat offering little shelter as we lurched up and over the swells rolling in from the Southern Atlantic, breakers landing down on the boat. Clinging on to avoid a watery grave, I began to wonder how many pelagic birders end up overboard in these turblent seas. Sooty Shearwaters arrived in small numbers to accompany us as we headed further out to sea, the weather soon improving with the rain initially replaced by mist and low visibility. Shy Albatross turned up out of the mist to trail our boat or wander off effortlessly on their long wings.
Slowly, slowly, the mist evaporated, blue skies appeared and from there on, it was glorious sun all the way. Amazing. The key to success on these pelagics is to locate an active trawler on the continental shelf, preferably one lifting its nets. Normally radar is utilised to ease the search, but in the choppy conditions of this day, it was more a question of attempting to stand on the highest point of the boat and scan the horizons. The first trawler we located was unfortunately heading back to Cape Town and totally birdless, but a little later we spotted two vessels on the horizon. Heading in their direction, Sub-Antarctic Skuas began to appear and at 15 nautical miles off Cape Point we picked up Black-browed Albatrosses in small numbers, soon followed by the beautiful Pintado Petrels, surely one of the most exquisite seabirds in existance. A single Soft-plumaged Petrel did a fly-by and was soon followed by small groups of Antarctic Prions, birds that we were to see on and off for the rest of the day. This mixture of birds persisted as we approached the vessels, vessels that ultimately turned out to not be trawlers, but oil tankers sitting just beyond the horizon. This was disappointing, but with a switch to a westerly direction, the radar then managed to pick up a small vessel a few miles further out.
And thus we found the 'Aquila, a long-liner operating out of Cape Town. The Birding Gods were surely smiling down - not only had we found a fishing boat, but just as we arrived, so too did it begin to lift its lines and process the catch, a magnet to birds from miles around to pour in for a free lunch.
The waters around the boat were bubbling with birds, a cocktail of Shy and Black-browed Albatrosses, Pintado and White-chinned Petrels, Sooty Shearwaters and Wilson’s Storm Petrels. With the Aquila discarding material from the processed fish catch, we were able to just sit with birds milling in all directions and the delights of albatrosses and petrels bobbing on the waves just a few metres from us. Soon we picked up several Southern Giant Petrels and amongst them, not the easiest of birds to distinguish, at least two Northern Giant Petrels. Most memorable it was to munch on our lunch with two'a'penny Pintado Petrels floating past and a cloud of Sub-Antarctic Skuas hogging the skies above. Even a visit to the boats loo was eventful - while trying to concentrate on not falling over, you could not help but look out of the little window at a ginormous Black-browed Albatross looking in!
And then, in the midst of this spectacle, a shout from someone 'Hey there’s a white back!' Stone me, a fairly rare sight in Cape waters, but arcing across our portside was a huge Northern Royal Albatross, what a mega bird! Dwarfing the accompanying Shy and Black-browed Albatrosses, it soon landed amongst other albatrosses on the water little way distant. Not a very confiding bird, it resisted all attemtpts for us to pull up adjacent, again taking to the air and doing a fly past. Lost for a while, we then relocated it in another flock of resting albatrosses and as we viewed it, suddenly there was another! Two Northern Royal Albatrosses, a rare treat indeed.
With lunch over, a couple of hours elapsed and the trawler nearing the end of its processing, it was soon time to be thinking about a return to Cape Town. Just before departing however, suddenly another bird was found - surrounded by Shy Albatrosses, one very smart adult Indian Yellow-nosed Albatross bobbing about on the water about 15 metres off our portside, a very fitting finale to our time with the long-liner.
With all on board in very good mood, the journey back was one of enjoying the sun and the few birds still passing, not least the regular flocks of Antarctic Prions and a few Sub-Antarctic Skuas and occasional Wilson's Petrels. Once past Cape Point, a meander along the coast allowed us to view some of the cormorant colonies, picking up all White-breasted, Cape, Bank and Crowned Cormorants. Also encountered an Arctic Skua, picked up a few African Penguins on the beaches at Simon's Town and concluded the trip with a pair of African Black Oystercatchers in the harbour.
Approximate numbers of birds seen:
African Penguin – several at the Boulder's colony, Simon's Town.
Northern Royal Albatross - 2 birds.
Shy Albatross – about 100.
Black-browed Albatross – about 75.
Indian Yellow-nosed Albatross – 1 adult.
Northern Giant Petrel – 2 birds.
Southern Giant Petrel – about 10 seen.
White-chinned Petrel – common, at least 200 seen.
Sooty Shearwater – about 25 birds.
Pintado Petrel - a minimum of 300.
Soft-plumaged Petrel – 1 bird on route out.
Antarctic Prion - numerous sightings, mostly single and small flocks, about 100 bird in total.
Wilson’s Storm Petrel – mostly singles flying past, about 50 in total.
Cape Gannet – about 200, mostly inshore.
Sub-Antarctic Skua – about 25, mostly around the fishing boat.
Arctic Skua - 1 in False Bay.
Swift Tern – common in coastal areas.
Hartlaub’s Gull – common in coastal areas.
Cape Gull – abundant in coastal areas, one offshore.
Cape Cormorant – abundant in coastal areas.
Bank Cormorant – about 25 at a breeding colony.
White-breasted cormorant – common in coastal areas.
Crowned Cormorant – one in coastal waters.
Many thanks to Cape Pelagics for such an excellent day out, top marks to Dalton Dale, the guide for the day. Driving back to Cape Town, the weather was appalling, a wild wind and very cold rain. It transpired that it had been just like that all day on land, lucky we had been out to sea!
With the forecast speaking of flooding in low areas, snow on the high passes and gales set to hit the coast, we wasted no time - a quick coffee and fill of junk food in McDonald's, then straight to the road, several hundred kilometres lay ahead, an overnight drive taking us to the sunny lands of the Kalahari.
End of Part One.
Simon's Town, pre-dawn, six of us sheltering under the canopy of a quayside cafe, drizzle sweeping in. Hmm, this was not looking good! Though the forecast talked of cold fronts battering the Cape over the coming days, we were supposed to be sailing out in one of the few calm windows available. Boarding the small boat, with the taking of a couple of anti-sickness pills seeming most prudent, out of the harbour we motored out to greet the approaching dawn. Swift Terns, Cape and Hartlaub’s Gulls quickly seen, as well as lines of Cape Cormorants on the buoys and the first Cape Gannets winging past.
Half way to Cape Point, still in the relative calm of False Bay, we picked up a number of White-chinned Petrels, indicative that a cold front had passed over and an onshore wind was still blowing. Reaching Cape Point, the skies darkened and soon we were travelling through a rain squall, the boat offering little shelter as we lurched up and over the swells rolling in from the Southern Atlantic, breakers landing down on the boat. Clinging on to avoid a watery grave, I began to wonder how many pelagic birders end up overboard in these turblent seas. Sooty Shearwaters arrived in small numbers to accompany us as we headed further out to sea, the weather soon improving with the rain initially replaced by mist and low visibility. Shy Albatross turned up out of the mist to trail our boat or wander off effortlessly on their long wings.
Slowly, slowly, the mist evaporated, blue skies appeared and from there on, it was glorious sun all the way. Amazing. The key to success on these pelagics is to locate an active trawler on the continental shelf, preferably one lifting its nets. Normally radar is utilised to ease the search, but in the choppy conditions of this day, it was more a question of attempting to stand on the highest point of the boat and scan the horizons. The first trawler we located was unfortunately heading back to Cape Town and totally birdless, but a little later we spotted two vessels on the horizon. Heading in their direction, Sub-Antarctic Skuas began to appear and at 15 nautical miles off Cape Point we picked up Black-browed Albatrosses in small numbers, soon followed by the beautiful Pintado Petrels, surely one of the most exquisite seabirds in existance. A single Soft-plumaged Petrel did a fly-by and was soon followed by small groups of Antarctic Prions, birds that we were to see on and off for the rest of the day. This mixture of birds persisted as we approached the vessels, vessels that ultimately turned out to not be trawlers, but oil tankers sitting just beyond the horizon. This was disappointing, but with a switch to a westerly direction, the radar then managed to pick up a small vessel a few miles further out.
And thus we found the 'Aquila, a long-liner operating out of Cape Town. The Birding Gods were surely smiling down - not only had we found a fishing boat, but just as we arrived, so too did it begin to lift its lines and process the catch, a magnet to birds from miles around to pour in for a free lunch.
The waters around the boat were bubbling with birds, a cocktail of Shy and Black-browed Albatrosses, Pintado and White-chinned Petrels, Sooty Shearwaters and Wilson’s Storm Petrels. With the Aquila discarding material from the processed fish catch, we were able to just sit with birds milling in all directions and the delights of albatrosses and petrels bobbing on the waves just a few metres from us. Soon we picked up several Southern Giant Petrels and amongst them, not the easiest of birds to distinguish, at least two Northern Giant Petrels. Most memorable it was to munch on our lunch with two'a'penny Pintado Petrels floating past and a cloud of Sub-Antarctic Skuas hogging the skies above. Even a visit to the boats loo was eventful - while trying to concentrate on not falling over, you could not help but look out of the little window at a ginormous Black-browed Albatross looking in!
And then, in the midst of this spectacle, a shout from someone 'Hey there’s a white back!' Stone me, a fairly rare sight in Cape waters, but arcing across our portside was a huge Northern Royal Albatross, what a mega bird! Dwarfing the accompanying Shy and Black-browed Albatrosses, it soon landed amongst other albatrosses on the water little way distant. Not a very confiding bird, it resisted all attemtpts for us to pull up adjacent, again taking to the air and doing a fly past. Lost for a while, we then relocated it in another flock of resting albatrosses and as we viewed it, suddenly there was another! Two Northern Royal Albatrosses, a rare treat indeed.
With lunch over, a couple of hours elapsed and the trawler nearing the end of its processing, it was soon time to be thinking about a return to Cape Town. Just before departing however, suddenly another bird was found - surrounded by Shy Albatrosses, one very smart adult Indian Yellow-nosed Albatross bobbing about on the water about 15 metres off our portside, a very fitting finale to our time with the long-liner.
With all on board in very good mood, the journey back was one of enjoying the sun and the few birds still passing, not least the regular flocks of Antarctic Prions and a few Sub-Antarctic Skuas and occasional Wilson's Petrels. Once past Cape Point, a meander along the coast allowed us to view some of the cormorant colonies, picking up all White-breasted, Cape, Bank and Crowned Cormorants. Also encountered an Arctic Skua, picked up a few African Penguins on the beaches at Simon's Town and concluded the trip with a pair of African Black Oystercatchers in the harbour.
Approximate numbers of birds seen:
African Penguin – several at the Boulder's colony, Simon's Town.
Northern Royal Albatross - 2 birds.
Shy Albatross – about 100.
Black-browed Albatross – about 75.
Indian Yellow-nosed Albatross – 1 adult.
Northern Giant Petrel – 2 birds.
Southern Giant Petrel – about 10 seen.
White-chinned Petrel – common, at least 200 seen.
Sooty Shearwater – about 25 birds.
Pintado Petrel - a minimum of 300.
Soft-plumaged Petrel – 1 bird on route out.
Antarctic Prion - numerous sightings, mostly single and small flocks, about 100 bird in total.
Wilson’s Storm Petrel – mostly singles flying past, about 50 in total.
Cape Gannet – about 200, mostly inshore.
Sub-Antarctic Skua – about 25, mostly around the fishing boat.
Arctic Skua - 1 in False Bay.
Swift Tern – common in coastal areas.
Hartlaub’s Gull – common in coastal areas.
Cape Gull – abundant in coastal areas, one offshore.
Cape Cormorant – abundant in coastal areas.
Bank Cormorant – about 25 at a breeding colony.
White-breasted cormorant – common in coastal areas.
Crowned Cormorant – one in coastal waters.
Many thanks to Cape Pelagics for such an excellent day out, top marks to Dalton Dale, the guide for the day. Driving back to Cape Town, the weather was appalling, a wild wind and very cold rain. It transpired that it had been just like that all day on land, lucky we had been out to sea!
With the forecast speaking of flooding in low areas, snow on the high passes and gales set to hit the coast, we wasted no time - a quick coffee and fill of junk food in McDonald's, then straight to the road, several hundred kilometres lay ahead, an overnight drive taking us to the sunny lands of the Kalahari.
End of Part One.
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Farnboro John
Well-known member
Cracking stuff Jos. Can't believe you passed up the GWS though, unless not being able to swim in the open with them put you off.
John
John
16 July. Pofadder & Augrabies Falls.
The journey up from Cape Town was relatively uneventful, 380 km on the N7 only punctuated by the blue flashing lights of the local police - unknown to us, a petrol station some distance back had botched our credit card payment and then called the police to say we had driven off without paying! With the police officer most friendly, all was soon resolved and we were on our way. At Bitterfontein, we turned off the N7 and took gravel roads for another 240 km, four Spotted Eagle Owls en route, along with four Cape Hares, two Cape Foxes, two Bat-eared Foxes and eight Steenbok. Eventually, after what had been a very long day at sea and a very long night on the road, I pulled over for a couple of hours kip. A few kilometres ahead lay the Koa Dunes, destination for first light.
Of all the South African larks, the only one that still eluded me was Red Lark - many hours I had spent in past years at Brandvlei in fruitless searches for this species, so it was with much hope that I arrived at the Koa Dunes early on the 16th. Not only are Red Larks apparently common here, but even better the Koa birds are of the red form, as opposed tp the far duller birds at Brandvlei and elsewhere. Early morning mist and a temperature of just 2 C got me shivering a little as I stomped out onto the vivid red sand, a tad bleary eyed to boot. Spike-heeled Larks already running across the dunes, also both Karoo and Tractrac Chats in the area and a small flock of Namaqua Sandgrouse in the air above. Very quickly located several Sabota Larks (the race known as Bradfield's Lark) and also Rufous-eared Warblers, but it was all eyes for the stars of the show - at least six found in almost no time at all, my second new passerine of the trip, Red Lark. Corking birds they are, bright and boldly marked, sitting atop vegetation and scurrying around on the sand, nice.
From Koa, we then continued in a north-easterly direction towards the evocatively named town of Poffadder, the gravel roads on route adding, amongst others, Verreaux's Eagle, Pale-chanting Goshawk, Mountain Wheatear, Ant-eating Chat and Fawn-coloured Lark. A couple of circuits of Puffadder to try and find a pie shop (unsuccessfully), then onward towards Augrabies. A stop to brew coffee a few kilometres along was fun, a sudden swoosh being all I heard before being mugged by a huge flock of Sociable Weavers, one of the real characters of the arid north. Basically a sparrow-sized bird, the nests are truly amazing - the result of communal co-operaton, the huge nests measure up to two or three metres across and hang prominently from solitary acacias and roadside utility poles throughout the plains. Sociable in name, breeding activity and life, it was a pleasure to share breakfast with them, the birds literally clambering on top of each other to get the best perches aside us.
Some kilometres further, with still half a day to play with, a short detour took us to the delightful Augrabies Falls, a scenic locality where the mighty Orange River cuts a deep gorge, tumbling over cascades and providing home to hundreds and hundreds of Rock Dassies. Surely the world's capital for these engaging little animals, they were absolutely everywhere, hordes of them sunbathing on exposed rocks, pretty much similar numbers scampering around the visitor centre and throughout the campsite. No shortage of birds too - flocks of Orange River White-eyes roving through the area, Karoo Scrub-Robins darting from bush to bush, a pair of Black Storks soaring over the gorge, plus assorted doves and flocks of Black-throated Canaries, White-browed Sparrow Weavers and Scaly-feathered Finches, the latter two thereafter common throughout the Kalahari. The campsite in particular proved most productive - over lunch, with a wary eye kept on the thieving Vervet Monkeys, there were plenty of birds to keep me occupied - Orange River White-eyes pecking at melted fat on the braai sites, both Acacia Pied and Crested Barbets dropping down from trees, Karoo Thrushes on withered grass and a whole bunch of others, including African Hoopoe and Red-billed Firefinch.
A short excursion some kilometres to the west, through a landscape of rocky outcrops and viewpoints over the river, added troops of Baboons, yet more Rock Dassies, a couple of Small Grey Mongoose and a positive treat of good birds, the best being exceptionally obliging Mountain Wheatears, the first Swallow-tailed Bee-eater of the trip and a superb Pygmy Falcon, the quaint little raptor just sitting atop a snag and peering down.
Also saw Black-shouldered Kite, flocks of Pale-winged Starlings and Dusky Sunbird amongst others, but with darkness only an hour away and the fabled gates to the Kgalagadi still 250 km distant, it was time to move on. A short stop in Upington for fish'n'chips and then, as the sun sank to the horizon, we set out on the long lonely road heading north into the Kalahari. A couple of hours later, with several Bat-eared Foxes under the belt, we arrived just short of the Kgalagadi gates. We camped in what I presumed was a dead end track - we soon found out that it was actually the access to someone's farmstead! Having seen our car lights, the owner promptly arrived to see who we were, then estabishing we were tourists, directed us inside the gate and then reappeared some minutes later with think blankets to supplement our sleeping bags. What a kind fellow - Kalahari nights are far from warm in the winter!
17 July. Kgalagadi, the Auob Valley.
Jeepers, minus 3 C at dawn, ice on the windscreen!!! Considerable shivers as we drove the last kilometre up the entrance of Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, a coffee brewed alongside the gate bringing a hint of life back to our shocked bodies! I remembered back to my previous visit to this region, a mid-summer affair where the temperatures rose to a sizzling 45 C, ahh how nice!
But now we were in, the delights of the Kalahara stretching out before us, five full days to wander at will, hopefully plenty of feline action ahead ....
The journey up from Cape Town was relatively uneventful, 380 km on the N7 only punctuated by the blue flashing lights of the local police - unknown to us, a petrol station some distance back had botched our credit card payment and then called the police to say we had driven off without paying! With the police officer most friendly, all was soon resolved and we were on our way. At Bitterfontein, we turned off the N7 and took gravel roads for another 240 km, four Spotted Eagle Owls en route, along with four Cape Hares, two Cape Foxes, two Bat-eared Foxes and eight Steenbok. Eventually, after what had been a very long day at sea and a very long night on the road, I pulled over for a couple of hours kip. A few kilometres ahead lay the Koa Dunes, destination for first light.
Of all the South African larks, the only one that still eluded me was Red Lark - many hours I had spent in past years at Brandvlei in fruitless searches for this species, so it was with much hope that I arrived at the Koa Dunes early on the 16th. Not only are Red Larks apparently common here, but even better the Koa birds are of the red form, as opposed tp the far duller birds at Brandvlei and elsewhere. Early morning mist and a temperature of just 2 C got me shivering a little as I stomped out onto the vivid red sand, a tad bleary eyed to boot. Spike-heeled Larks already running across the dunes, also both Karoo and Tractrac Chats in the area and a small flock of Namaqua Sandgrouse in the air above. Very quickly located several Sabota Larks (the race known as Bradfield's Lark) and also Rufous-eared Warblers, but it was all eyes for the stars of the show - at least six found in almost no time at all, my second new passerine of the trip, Red Lark. Corking birds they are, bright and boldly marked, sitting atop vegetation and scurrying around on the sand, nice.
From Koa, we then continued in a north-easterly direction towards the evocatively named town of Poffadder, the gravel roads on route adding, amongst others, Verreaux's Eagle, Pale-chanting Goshawk, Mountain Wheatear, Ant-eating Chat and Fawn-coloured Lark. A couple of circuits of Puffadder to try and find a pie shop (unsuccessfully), then onward towards Augrabies. A stop to brew coffee a few kilometres along was fun, a sudden swoosh being all I heard before being mugged by a huge flock of Sociable Weavers, one of the real characters of the arid north. Basically a sparrow-sized bird, the nests are truly amazing - the result of communal co-operaton, the huge nests measure up to two or three metres across and hang prominently from solitary acacias and roadside utility poles throughout the plains. Sociable in name, breeding activity and life, it was a pleasure to share breakfast with them, the birds literally clambering on top of each other to get the best perches aside us.
Some kilometres further, with still half a day to play with, a short detour took us to the delightful Augrabies Falls, a scenic locality where the mighty Orange River cuts a deep gorge, tumbling over cascades and providing home to hundreds and hundreds of Rock Dassies. Surely the world's capital for these engaging little animals, they were absolutely everywhere, hordes of them sunbathing on exposed rocks, pretty much similar numbers scampering around the visitor centre and throughout the campsite. No shortage of birds too - flocks of Orange River White-eyes roving through the area, Karoo Scrub-Robins darting from bush to bush, a pair of Black Storks soaring over the gorge, plus assorted doves and flocks of Black-throated Canaries, White-browed Sparrow Weavers and Scaly-feathered Finches, the latter two thereafter common throughout the Kalahari. The campsite in particular proved most productive - over lunch, with a wary eye kept on the thieving Vervet Monkeys, there were plenty of birds to keep me occupied - Orange River White-eyes pecking at melted fat on the braai sites, both Acacia Pied and Crested Barbets dropping down from trees, Karoo Thrushes on withered grass and a whole bunch of others, including African Hoopoe and Red-billed Firefinch.
A short excursion some kilometres to the west, through a landscape of rocky outcrops and viewpoints over the river, added troops of Baboons, yet more Rock Dassies, a couple of Small Grey Mongoose and a positive treat of good birds, the best being exceptionally obliging Mountain Wheatears, the first Swallow-tailed Bee-eater of the trip and a superb Pygmy Falcon, the quaint little raptor just sitting atop a snag and peering down.
Also saw Black-shouldered Kite, flocks of Pale-winged Starlings and Dusky Sunbird amongst others, but with darkness only an hour away and the fabled gates to the Kgalagadi still 250 km distant, it was time to move on. A short stop in Upington for fish'n'chips and then, as the sun sank to the horizon, we set out on the long lonely road heading north into the Kalahari. A couple of hours later, with several Bat-eared Foxes under the belt, we arrived just short of the Kgalagadi gates. We camped in what I presumed was a dead end track - we soon found out that it was actually the access to someone's farmstead! Having seen our car lights, the owner promptly arrived to see who we were, then estabishing we were tourists, directed us inside the gate and then reappeared some minutes later with think blankets to supplement our sleeping bags. What a kind fellow - Kalahari nights are far from warm in the winter!
17 July. Kgalagadi, the Auob Valley.
Jeepers, minus 3 C at dawn, ice on the windscreen!!! Considerable shivers as we drove the last kilometre up the entrance of Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, a coffee brewed alongside the gate bringing a hint of life back to our shocked bodies! I remembered back to my previous visit to this region, a mid-summer affair where the temperatures rose to a sizzling 45 C, ahh how nice!
But now we were in, the delights of the Kalahara stretching out before us, five full days to wander at will, hopefully plenty of feline action ahead ....
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Larry Sweetland
Formerly 'Larry Wheatland'
Nice one Jos. Off to see where some of these places are on a map, and look up what some of those birds look like!
Now we move onto the more juicy parts of the trip...
A good dozen years since I last saw a Cheetah, this fantastic cat was high on my list of targets, so I decided the first explorations would be of the Auob, a broad open valley extending about 130 km to the Namibian border. Blessed with abundant herbivores and scant cover to conceal the cats, it is widely considered to be one of the better areas to find Cheetah, albeit by no means guaranteed. To reach this valley, the route first takes you over an expanse of low red dunes, largely devoid of large mammals, bar a few Gemsbok, and not exactly overrun with birds either! Did encounter several colonies of Brant's Whistling Rats however, plus two Meerkats.
As the Auob opened out before us however, a warm surge of excitement displaced the chill of the early morning - as the sun climbed above the dunes beyond, the vista was just simply one of animals. On parched remains of grass, grazing herds of Blue Wildebeest, Springboks in fantastic numbers, stately Gemsboks treading dusty paths - magic, this was what I had come for. And this would be the backdrop for the entire day, a spread of animals along the whole valley, occasional Giraffe and Red Hartebeests adding to the variety, Black-backed Jackals and Bat-eared Foxes also active.
For all the mammals, the Kgalagadi is perhaps even more remarkable for birds - Kori Bustards by the bucketload, often plodding the valley in small flocks, raptors coming out of your ears and a variety and abundance of other birds to get you happy near enough non-stop. Amongst the raptors alone, on this first day, we notched up White-backed Vulture, Bateleur, both Brown and Black-chested Snake Eagle, both Tawny and Martial Eagle, Yellow-billed Kite, Pale-chanting Goshawk, Pygmy Falcon, Red-necked Falcon, Greater Kestrel and Secretary Bird. Kori Bustards numbered about 35, and some of the other impressive feathered beasties included a flock of Burchell's Sandgrouse landing with Namaqua Sandgrouse, plentiful Yellow-billed Hornbills, trillions of Scaly-feathered Finches and good numbers of Marico Flycathers, Cape Glossy Starlings, Kalahari Scrub-Robins and, in smaller numbers, Lilac-breasted Roller, Chat Flycatcher and Red-headed Finch.
Back to mammals however, we had now been in the Kgalagadi for little more than a couple of hours, carefully scanning under the stunted acacias, sweeping our eyes across the open grassy plains, not a feline as yet. Hardly surprising, it really would have been greedy to expect them served on platters, but just then a shout of stop from my companion, 'What's that on the ridge?'
One quick glance, distant though it was, the identity was clear ...
17th July contd...
... but just then a shout of stop from my companion, 'What's that on the ridge?'. One quick glance, distant though it was, and the identity was clear - silhouetted against the sky, strolling along the scrub-covered ridge, a Leopard in majestic outline, what a fabulous start to the feline action!
We followed and watched for about 20 minutes, the Leopard rarely straying from the crest of the ridge, most probably a male. Leopards are rarely easy animals to find, I certainly had not expected to see one so quickly in Kgalagadi, or even at all to be honest.
Most content, on we continued, filling the car with dust as we bumped along the sandy tracks, Kori Bustards alongside, Ostrich striding by. An hour further on, things got even better - on a soft sandy patch, just as we had risen over a low brow, suddenly there were animals on the track directly in front, four animals to be exact, all walking directly towards us! Stone me, Cheetahs!!! The most graceful of animals, I presume a female and three well-grown youngsters, they were striding purposefully down the valley, their route taking them off the track about 100 metres before our car and onto the open grassland. And there they continued, passing to our right and sauntering on towards a few acacias for a brief pause in the shade before once again resuming the walk down the valley. Springbok gave them a studied look, Gemsbok trotted out of their path, but these four seemed most unconcerned, on they went, a steady walk off into the distance, superb.
Ah, with five cats now on the list, the sun shining and the temperature now a respectable 21 or 22 C, we decided a coffee stop would be nice, so we motored on to the small picnic area at Kamqua picnic site.
A funny place for a stop - herds of Springbok charging by, no doubt Lions too on occasion. Yellow-billed Hornbills dropped down to scavenge, Cape Glossy Starlings and Sociable Weavers too, but the highlight of the stop was when I wandered off to investigate the reasons for the peculiar actions of a Pale Chanting Goshawk - jumping up and down, occasionally fluttering into the air, but most intent on something in the rocks. I assumed I would find a snake, but as I approached, a right little din was coming from the rocks - two Slender Mongooses having a scrap in a small hollow, fur flying and teeth bared! So engaged in their activity, they did not even notice my approach, so I sat on a rock and watched them battle it out, little balls of fury it seemed. And then, one of them with a slightly bloodied face, they decided to call it a day, stopped the fight and trotted off together, best of buddies all of a sudden!
A quick check for any approaching Lions, then back to the main picnic area, my kettle now happily boiling away. Coffee with hornbill, peanut butter sandwich with weavers and sparrows, not bad at all.
On we meandered, destination for the day being the Mata Mata camp on the Namibian border. With so many things to see, progress was slow, a little group of Giraffe grazed on acacia, a Kalahari Tent Tortoise plodded across the sands, birds included everything from abundant raptors to the first gaudy Crimson-breasted Shrikes of the day, the latter real stunners. About mid-way to the camp, we encountered a car parked aside an acacia, the occupants clearly watching something. Stopping a little short of them, it did not take much effort to see what they were looking at, a Black-backed Jackal standing in the sun about 30 metres out. Nice, but not particularly unusual, we had already seen a half dozen during the morning.
And then, a sudden 'oo er', I had not noticed another animal lying in the shade of the acacia! Sandwiched pretty much midway between the car and the jackal was cat number six of the day, another Cheetah, this one feasting on a freshly-killed Springbok. The other car left and we had the cat to ourselves, slurps and crunching of bone, a blood-soaked face of the Cheetah glancing out of the bowels of the ex-Springbok every now and again, all most delightful! Two Black-backed Jackals now trotted in, but nothing disturbed this cat, lunch was a long affair!
Eventually, with the Cheetah stubbornly refusing to shift from the darkest patch of shadow beneath the acacia, we decided to depart and head for Mata Mata, the 160 km drive now having taken us most of the day. At camp, we pitched tent in the most secluded corner I could find, my secret hope being that a few visitors might wander in come darkness. Plenty to occupy us in the meantime - dozens of South African Ground Squirrels, a pair of Common Scimitarbills and, as dusk approached, a fairly quaint Black-tailed Tree Rat scurrying along a branch just above us.
A dusk drive had not produced much extra, but still we had a little treat ahead - going on an organised night safari, we ventured out into the starlit night, spotlights angled to both sides. No cats, bar one brief thing jumping out of a tree which was probably an African Wild Cat, but did manage a few more Bat-eared Foxes, one Cape Fox, three Cape Hares and, the most engaging animals of the night, at least 25 Spring Hares, little kangaroo-like things that go bounding off in all directions. Also three Spotted Eagle Owls.
Very cold by the end of the safari, the open top of the truck not the warmest of places as the temperature dipped back towards freezing. Chucked on all the clothes I had at my disposal and slunk into the tent, my sleeping bag most snug. Day over.
... but just then a shout of stop from my companion, 'What's that on the ridge?'. One quick glance, distant though it was, and the identity was clear - silhouetted against the sky, strolling along the scrub-covered ridge, a Leopard in majestic outline, what a fabulous start to the feline action!
We followed and watched for about 20 minutes, the Leopard rarely straying from the crest of the ridge, most probably a male. Leopards are rarely easy animals to find, I certainly had not expected to see one so quickly in Kgalagadi, or even at all to be honest.
Most content, on we continued, filling the car with dust as we bumped along the sandy tracks, Kori Bustards alongside, Ostrich striding by. An hour further on, things got even better - on a soft sandy patch, just as we had risen over a low brow, suddenly there were animals on the track directly in front, four animals to be exact, all walking directly towards us! Stone me, Cheetahs!!! The most graceful of animals, I presume a female and three well-grown youngsters, they were striding purposefully down the valley, their route taking them off the track about 100 metres before our car and onto the open grassland. And there they continued, passing to our right and sauntering on towards a few acacias for a brief pause in the shade before once again resuming the walk down the valley. Springbok gave them a studied look, Gemsbok trotted out of their path, but these four seemed most unconcerned, on they went, a steady walk off into the distance, superb.
Ah, with five cats now on the list, the sun shining and the temperature now a respectable 21 or 22 C, we decided a coffee stop would be nice, so we motored on to the small picnic area at Kamqua picnic site.
A funny place for a stop - herds of Springbok charging by, no doubt Lions too on occasion. Yellow-billed Hornbills dropped down to scavenge, Cape Glossy Starlings and Sociable Weavers too, but the highlight of the stop was when I wandered off to investigate the reasons for the peculiar actions of a Pale Chanting Goshawk - jumping up and down, occasionally fluttering into the air, but most intent on something in the rocks. I assumed I would find a snake, but as I approached, a right little din was coming from the rocks - two Slender Mongooses having a scrap in a small hollow, fur flying and teeth bared! So engaged in their activity, they did not even notice my approach, so I sat on a rock and watched them battle it out, little balls of fury it seemed. And then, one of them with a slightly bloodied face, they decided to call it a day, stopped the fight and trotted off together, best of buddies all of a sudden!
A quick check for any approaching Lions, then back to the main picnic area, my kettle now happily boiling away. Coffee with hornbill, peanut butter sandwich with weavers and sparrows, not bad at all.
On we meandered, destination for the day being the Mata Mata camp on the Namibian border. With so many things to see, progress was slow, a little group of Giraffe grazed on acacia, a Kalahari Tent Tortoise plodded across the sands, birds included everything from abundant raptors to the first gaudy Crimson-breasted Shrikes of the day, the latter real stunners. About mid-way to the camp, we encountered a car parked aside an acacia, the occupants clearly watching something. Stopping a little short of them, it did not take much effort to see what they were looking at, a Black-backed Jackal standing in the sun about 30 metres out. Nice, but not particularly unusual, we had already seen a half dozen during the morning.
And then, a sudden 'oo er', I had not noticed another animal lying in the shade of the acacia! Sandwiched pretty much midway between the car and the jackal was cat number six of the day, another Cheetah, this one feasting on a freshly-killed Springbok. The other car left and we had the cat to ourselves, slurps and crunching of bone, a blood-soaked face of the Cheetah glancing out of the bowels of the ex-Springbok every now and again, all most delightful! Two Black-backed Jackals now trotted in, but nothing disturbed this cat, lunch was a long affair!
Eventually, with the Cheetah stubbornly refusing to shift from the darkest patch of shadow beneath the acacia, we decided to depart and head for Mata Mata, the 160 km drive now having taken us most of the day. At camp, we pitched tent in the most secluded corner I could find, my secret hope being that a few visitors might wander in come darkness. Plenty to occupy us in the meantime - dozens of South African Ground Squirrels, a pair of Common Scimitarbills and, as dusk approached, a fairly quaint Black-tailed Tree Rat scurrying along a branch just above us.
A dusk drive had not produced much extra, but still we had a little treat ahead - going on an organised night safari, we ventured out into the starlit night, spotlights angled to both sides. No cats, bar one brief thing jumping out of a tree which was probably an African Wild Cat, but did manage a few more Bat-eared Foxes, one Cape Fox, three Cape Hares and, the most engaging animals of the night, at least 25 Spring Hares, little kangaroo-like things that go bounding off in all directions. Also three Spotted Eagle Owls.
Very cold by the end of the safari, the open top of the truck not the warmest of places as the temperature dipped back towards freezing. Chucked on all the clothes I had at my disposal and slunk into the tent, my sleeping bag most snug. Day over.
