Déjà Vu

Dateline: Gabon 27 September 2011

What a surprise, this morning, to find a little bit of my past right here before the house where I am staying in Iguela. One of the constant joys of coming to Loango National Park is that several species of bee-eaters are found here. I studied one of this spectacular family of birds for eight years in Kenya back in the 1980’s and always it is a pleasure to see others on my travels.

While boating through the delta of the Ogooue River on the way to Iguela, and again along the Ngowe River a few days ago, rosy bee-eaters were swooping around in the air and dipping into the water for a drink or a bath-on-the-wing. This is certainly one of the most elegant of the bee-eater species (in a family of beauties), with a mourning gray back and wings contrasting the gorgeous rosy throat, breast and belly. The other common species is one of the little ones, the blue-breasted bee-eater, which likes the open areas of savannah edges. This is the one that so pleased me this morning.

Bee-eaters are so named because they are specialists at eating venomous insects like bees and wasps, although they also eat just about any flying insect of a suitable size. Most of the species, including the blue-throated, sally forth from a perch to snap up flying insects, returning to their perch to whack them against the perch before eating or feeding them to nestlings (or their mate). All bee-eaters nest in holes that they dig themselves – the one that I studied in Kenya nested colonially in vertical earthen banks, sometimes hundreds all together. Others, like the rosy bee-eater, are also colonial but nest in the ground, digging a burrow more than a meter long with an expanded nesting chamber at the end. The smallest bee-eaters, like the blue-breasted, tend to be solitary nesters and dig their holes in small ridges of earth, or the tops of aardvark holes, or even just in the ground. A pair of blue-breasted bee-eaters forages in the edges of a savannah area behind the house here in Iguela. I have seen them on other trips and have always enjoyed taking a coffee or tea out on the back steps to sit and watch their foraging antics.

So this morning I was having coffee and enjoying the cool of early morning without anyone else up in the compound when I noticed that the pair were catching prey and processing them on the perch, but then flying off again without eating them. For sure this indicated they were feeding nestlings. Much to my surprise, I followed one around the side of the house and saw it go into a hole dug into the ground not 15 feet in front on the house! I have been here for two days and never noticed this happening. Where were by observer’s eyes?

So it has been great fun to get a little bit of video of this pair coming to their nest hole, and remembering the fantastic experiences I had living in Nakuru National Park, Kenya, following the complex social lives of white-fronted bee-eaters. 

Ngowe Supreme

Dateline: Gabon, 23 September 2011

The familiar scene unfolded around me – sound and vibration of the 25hp outboard motor (least favorite), the coolness of air motion (and consequent freedom from tsetse flies), the edges of the Ngowe River flowing past, sometimes a close bank of papyrus or white mangrove and sometimes more of a vista across swampy grasses to the forest edge at slightly higher elevation. I have been along this river many times coming from, or going to, the Akaka Camp. It is a favorite path because of the lovely scenes it offers and the multitude of water-loving birds that are startled up by the passing boat. Always also a little frustrating not to have more time to poke around and try for some photographs or video. The brilliant turquoise of a malachite kingfisher as it streaks across the river and into hiding in the mangroves. Squako herons and anhingas everywhere. Palm-nut vultures and African fish eagles. And especially finfoots!

But this particular voyage down to Akaka was destined to be the very best that ever I have had. Although the rainy season should have begun here already, it was still surprisingly dry. This means that the extensive swamps that line the Ngowe were relatively firm because the river level was below the bank – and that means elephants. Once again I am surprised at how suddenly these huge animals can appear when encountering them in the equatorial habitats of Central Africa. A winding River and mangrove/papyrus-lined banks make for startling and dramatic appearances. Our first bull loomed up on the right not more than 30 feet away – nearly black with his wet hide. He was a bit startled too but held his ground. Only one or two kilometers further along we came upon hippos in the river, first a group of three then a larger group of at least five or six. Lieth, our ecoguard, was clearly not very happy to be on the river with these large and sometimes aggressive animals. He was not willing to slow down or to stop and swung the boat wide to the opposite side of the river (still only 25-30 feet away) to pass. It is true that these animals will sometimes walk along the bottom of a river and then surface under a boat – throwing everyone into the water and extreme danger. Still, I wish we could have stopped at a safe distance to watch, then perhaps approach as seemed prudent. Near Akaka a family of elephants appeared – five or six we think, but there could have been small ones invisible in the tall grasses. These were less interested in remaining close to a noisy boat and humans, moving off a little and testing the air for our scent.

After arriving at the camp we had time to make the relatively short hike to where our acoustic recorder was hanging (‘ARUs’ we call them, after Autonomous Recording Unit). Along the trail we had just worked our way around a tree fall blocking the path when we saw a big bull elephant coming along the trail toward us. I don’t think he was aware of us yet, and we backtracked a little then took a wide detour to the side of the trail to continue on.

The ARU was hanging on a particularly high limb – perhaps about 40 feet up. Ghislain, my protégé, wanted me to do the climbing. He went up for the first unit we processed on this day and he really struggles on the climb. He is a heavy man and the climbing harness is not big enough to get over his belly to be secured higher on the torso where it belongs. This means that when he sits down in the harness during the climbing process, too much of his body mass is above the attachment point and he tips backwards more than optimal. Each move up the rope thus requires that he pull up his own body first to vertical, then make the incremental gain on the rope itself. Exhausting. It is an exhausting process even without this extra effort.

Anyway, we did not get the rope positioned really optimally and it took a bunch of throws to get it even there. Then I had a problem with the prussic climbing knot, which refused to grip properly for the climb. In the end we pulled everything down and got the rope into a better position and then I used a different system to climb to the ARU. All of this was taking more time than we expected and it was important, with the number of elephants around, to get back to camp well before dark. But we did manage to get the job done and had no encounters on the hike back.

Best of all, as we were preparing something to eat (actually Lieth and Ghislain were doing the honors), three elephants approached the river bank directly opposite the platform we were sitting on. The sun was setting and the scene had that beautiful softness of light that makes this time of day so special. Birds were calling more than usual as they headed for roost – especially flocks of African grey parrots and black-casqued hornbills. One by one the elephants slipped into the river and began to swim across not quite toward us. It was phenomenal! When the river got deep enough, they completely submerged. Then only the crowns of their heads appeared, along with their trunks for a sip of air, before disappearing below the water surface again. Fantastic!