The 7:05 a.m. flight today from Camp Okavango to Kasane should have been routine, but as with many aspects of Africa, it was not. And that’s the continent’s magic at work.
Tau, one of the camp’s maintenance staff, was assigned to take Safari Air pilot, Anthony, by truck at dawn to the grassy airstrip for preflight checks. Off they went for the drive that lasts only a few minutes. What they saw at the strip presented a new challenge for Anthony, a Kiwi pilot racking up flight miles this month as if they were minutes on a clock. With all of his experience flying in the Okavango Delta and the savannah regions of Botswana, he had never had this situation: five young lionesses lying on the grass under the right wing of his plane.
As Tau recounted the events later, he said that he and Anthony drove to the plane, but even with the commotion the lions didn’t budge. Anthony made what must have been a flying leap from the truck’s cab into the plane’s cockpit. The lions weren’t interested in moving.
“He said, ‘You better take me back with you, or there will be nothing left but my shoes!’” Tau said of Anthony. Tau flashed his signature grin and giggled. He assured me the lions were in a hunting mood. Tau and Anthony returned to camp to make a new plan. (In camps in Africa where there is no easy way to fix things or problems this far off the grid, the mantra is, “Make a plan. Sort it out.” They always do, and always seem to solve problems in the most ingenious ways in remote areas of the bush. This is a “can-do” country where people are born positively capable. (I wish some of it would rub off on me.) They decided to return. Tau said Anthony leapt into the cockpit again and started the engine. That and the wind from the plane got the lions’ attention. The pilot wheeled the plane into a spot farther away from the tall grasses. The tall grasses were exactly where the lions decided to go – when they decided to go. Thank goodness.
Tau, one of the camp’s maintenance staff, was assigned to take Safari Air pilot, Anthony, by truck at dawn to the grassy airstrip for preflight checks. Off they went for the drive that lasts only a few minutes. What they saw at the strip presented a new challenge for Anthony, a Kiwi pilot racking up flight miles this month as if they were minutes on a clock. With all of his experience flying in the Okavango Delta and the savannah regions of Botswana, he had never had this situation: five young lionesses lying on the grass under the right wing of his plane.
As Tau recounted the events later, he said that he and Anthony drove to the plane, but even with the commotion the lions didn’t budge. Anthony made what must have been a flying leap from the truck’s cab into the plane’s cockpit. The lions weren’t interested in moving.
“He said, ‘You better take me back with you, or there will be nothing left but my shoes!’” Tau said of Anthony. Tau flashed his signature grin and giggled. He assured me the lions were in a hunting mood. Tau and Anthony returned to camp to make a new plan. (In camps in Africa where there is no easy way to fix things or problems this far off the grid, the mantra is, “Make a plan. Sort it out.” They always do, and always seem to solve problems in the most ingenious ways in remote areas of the bush. This is a “can-do” country where people are born positively capable. (I wish some of it would rub off on me.) They decided to return. Tau said Anthony leapt into the cockpit again and started the engine. That and the wind from the plane got the lions’ attention. The pilot wheeled the plane into a spot farther away from the tall grasses. The tall grasses were exactly where the lions decided to go – when they decided to go. Thank goodness.
Back at the camp breakfast table, a German couple and a Belgian couple were finishing their meal and preparing to go to the airstrip for their flight with Anthony. Banda, a guide with a radio, reported that lions had been under the wing of the plane. Since Banda had enchanted the guests a previous night with his old Botswana tale about a king, his daughter, her suitors and a termite mound, I thought he was pulling our legs with the airstrip story. Not until I saw the lions’ tracks did I realize it was true what they said about the lionesses. We all walked together to the airstrip with Banda in front and on alert to see the lions. The guests and I found this a thrilling hike. I listened for any movement in the bush, but the lions had moved on. All we found on the airstrip besides a busy pilot attending to the last mechanical details for the flight were scat piles from red lechwes. (There was no time to interview Anthony for his version of the story, other than to shout a question about whether he had ever been in such a situation. With what appeared to be relief, he shook his head no. “A day to remember!” I said and snapped a photo of him to commemorate the event.)
Anthony and his guests took off, while Banda, Tau (his name, appropriately, is the Setswana word for lion), tracker Section and I took off as well, in the pickup truck to track the lions. In no time at all, we found them resting under a tree. They moved away before we could get a close look, but one moved swiftly past a tree and stared at us for a second through an opening in the grass, her fur blending with the golden stems in the bright sunlight of sunrise while the moon still hung bright in the sky. Another day had dawned in Africa, majestic and wild.
Maria Henson, volunteer, Desert & Delta Safaris
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