the cheetahs of the kgalagadi

the cheetahs of the kgalagadi

by | Dec 5, 2020 | environment, life, travel, travel writing

Written for National Geographic Kids magazine

THE KGALAGADI IS HOME TO ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT CHEETAH POPULATIONS IN AFRICA, BUT WE KNOW PRACTICALLY NOTHING ABOUT THEM. A NEW PROJECT IS SET TO CHANGE THAT.

A springbok herd is grazing peacefully in the hot mid-morning sun, the dust irritating their nostrils. Suddenly a cheetah explodes from the grass she has been hiding in. Stealthily she has been stalking the herd from a downwind direction. The springbok run for their lives. Within seconds the cheetah is at full speed, targeting a springbok ram.

The dark stripes below the cheetah’s eyes absorb the harsh sunlight, helping her to see clearly in the bright light. With the cheetah’s long legs moving in a blur, she rapidly gains on the springbok, her flattened tail guiding her like a rudder. Without breaking her stride she pounces, sinking her sharp canines into the back of his neck, avoiding the springbok’s hooves and sharp horns.

The sprint has exhausted her but this time she was lucky and her cubs will eat. Her slim body is built for high speed, making cheetahs the fastest animals on Earth, but they cannot maintain the speed for long distances. If they miss in their sprint, they must stop to rest before they can hunt again.

After catching her breath, she called to her cubs who were hiding under a nearby camel thorn tree. Cautiously they came out. Knowing that lions, hyaenas and jackals would be attracted to the scent of blood, they eat quickly. Sometimes they are chased away and have to watch from a distance as their competitors eat the kill their mom worked so hard for.

Watching from a safe distance is Dr. Gus Mills and his team. They are doing research on the cheetah of the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park.

Watching you watching me

The Kgalagadi Rransfrontier Park is about 38 000 square kilometers and is one of the largest conservation areas in the world. About two thirds is in Botswana and a third in South Africa. It is called a transfrontier peace park because it crosses a national boundary but there is no fence – just some whitewashed stones to mark the border. Because it’s such a large protected area the cheetahs are able to live without conflict with humans, but it’s a population that we know virtually nothing about.

“We’re concentrating on the South african side because of the huge size of the park, using a combination of traditional and hi-tech tracking methods to monitor the cheetahs,” says Gus Mills.

Working with Khomani San trackers and with the use of radio collars, GPS and digital cameras, they are able to monitor the movements and behaviour patterns of individual cheetahs. Gus reckons that there are about 80 cheetahs in the park. even though it is just a year into a five-year project, they have already found out some interesting things.

 

Hare raising snack

“We thought springbok would be a key prey species, probably the most important food for cheetahs,” explained Gus. “but it doesn’t seem as though this is the case. The cheetahs are feeding on quite a wide variety of food items including animals that we didn’t expect, such as springhares. They are a very important prey and nocturnal and so the cheetahs are hunting at night.

Hares and springhares actually make up the majority of their kills, although because of their small size it means they have to kill more often. They also feed on species like steenbok and duiker. The project team have observed quite a few male cheetahs going for eland calf, which is a really big prey.

The eland have moved south in the park due to the dry conditions further north and so are probably in a weak state.

“The Kgalagadi cheetah may not be as dependent on springbok as we thought they were. It may be that when females have cubs, springbok become very important. It’s all very well snacking on springhares if you’re on your own but when you’ve got kids to feed, a springhare just won’t do,” says Gus.

Going solo

Each cheetah female lives on her own, but some males form groups of two or three called a coalition.

“We have two males collared,” says Gus, “a solitary male and one from a coalition of two. These two cheetah groups appear to have overlapping territories in the southern Auob. The coalition have recently moved into the area inhabited by the single male. Perhaps they will force him out.”

Cheating the lion

A lot of cheetah cubs die young. In the Serengeti, only about five per cent of cubs born there become adults. Most are killed by lions. In the Kgalagadi the population of lions is smaller and more spread out, so there is less pressure on cheetah cubs.

To date Gus has come across one adult male cheetah killed by a leopard. The team suspects that he was injured by one of the male cheetahs from the coalition.

“The cheetah had been chased for about 250 metres. A cheetah should be able to outrun a leopard at that distance so we presume he wasn’t in good condition,” recalls Gus.

Battle of the sexes

In normal carnivore populations there are more females than males. However, towards the beginning of the project it looked like there were two males for every female. As the project progressed the ratio was looking less unusual. Perhaps the females are better at hide-and-seek!

There’s still a lot to learn about how cheetahs survive in such harsh conditions. Gus and his team will be conducting research for another four years. It’s hard, hot work, but for them watching the beautiful sprinters in this peaceful place is a labour of love.

 

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lost in silence

lost in silence

by | Sep 24, 2019 | environment, inspirational, travel, travel writing

Written for Xplore Magazine

The trip to Twee Rivieren, gateway to the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park from South Africa, took 15 minutes too long. I’d allotted what I’d thought was plenty of time for the trip from Cape Town – 10 hours – but with the roadworks delays I missed the gate closing time. By a mere quarter of an hour. I phoned – no answer. I hooted – silence.

Just as I was beginning to wonder where I was going to spend the night, a smiling face appeared in the twilight. It belonged to SAN Parks staffer Marius Kroon, who performed the magic rite and swung the gate open.

Twee Rivieren is the administrative centre of Kgalagadi park. As such, it’s large and well organised, dotted with attractively designed, limestone-clad buildings, is just the place to throw off a city schedule. My first priority now I’d finally arrived was to stop rushing. My second was dinner.

The Lion’s Deck’ restaurant in the camp was busy and generally bookings are essential, but my luck held and I was found a table. As the staff scurried off to fetch me a beer and organize a rump steak, I finally slowed down, switched off the city schedule and started to unwind to the quiet of the Kalahari.

 

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The Kgaladai Cheetah Project

In the morning I belatedly registered with reception, and enquired where an old family friend who was working with cheetahs in the Kgalagadi might be found. Gus and Margie Mills, are authorities on predators and have done extensive research in the park, as well as Kruger, on a range of South Africa’s charismatic predators. Currently they are employed on the Kgalagadi Cheetah Project, sponsored by the Tony and Lisette Lewis Foundation South Africa.

When I told Gus and Margie I was heading north to Kalahari Tented Camp, a wilderness unfenced tented camp north of Nossob Camp, they asked me to look out for cheetahs with a collar. “Though I wouldn’t hold your breath,” said Gus. “We only have two individuals collared in a 10 000 km2 area.” Bouncing north along the rutted dirt roads, I drank in the surroundings. The sun infiltrated the land- scape, banishing midwinter’s chill from the air – or maybe that was the seat warmers. A short way out of camp I came across two cheetahs lazing in the shade of a Camel Thorn tree. It seems today would be my lucky day too – one was wearing a radio collar. They were in no hurry and neither was I.

Arriving in the Kalahari Tented Camp with half an hour of daylight left, I decided it prudent to drive through to Mata Mata, three kms away, to fill up with diesel. There are only three camps that supply fuel in the Kgalagadi: Twee Rivieren, Mata Mata and Nossob. They are also the only camps with shops, stocking the basics although these tend to be on the pricey side – but then this is a long way from anywhere.

The six wilderness camps in the South African side of the Kgalagadi are all intimate and unfenced. Kalahari Tented Camp, the largest, consists of 15 stilted canvas tents overlooking a waterhole in the Auob River. The fully equipped tents sleep two to four people and have their own bathroom and kitchen. Having experienced the freezing cold Kalahari nights I was grateful to see ample blankets in the tent. Be warned, however, that there are not any power outlets for conventional plugs. So, no recharging your cell or laptop. Not that there’s cellphone reception anyway – that’s limited to Twee Rivieren, making Kgalagadi one of the few places in South Africa where you can escape the insidious reach of the airwaves.

The following morning, I’d arranged a special short veld lesson from warden Piet in the camp surrounds. The tracks around the camp were plentiful, a testimony to the wildness of the wilderness camps. Piet was born in the Kalahari, hailing from the Mier community, and in an animated way shared his knowledge of and affection for the Kalahari with me. Taking the camel thorn tree, one of the most common trees occurring in the park, Piet teased out the micro- ecosystems in decaying fallen branches with his finger, showing why collecting firewood in the park is prohibited.

The road to solitude

Leaving the Kalahari Tented Camp I travelled across to Nossob, a camp midway on the Twee Rivieren to Union’s End road. I was heading to Gharagab Wilderness Camp, in the north of the park, just below Union’s End and on the border with Botswana. Gharagab is accessible only by 4×4 and the park requires you to check in at Nossob before heading on the trail.

The landscape changed quickly on the quiet road up to Union’s End. After popping in at Grootkalk to drop off some brake fluid for the camp warden, I turned onto the Gharagab 4×4 trail, which winds its way through the wilderness. For the first time since entering the park I felt utterly alone; my reliance on the Pajero was absolute. The trail to Gharagab is only 32km long, but at a comfortable travelling speed of 20km/h takes more than an hour and a half. A black-backed jackal trotted down the track towards me, completely indifferent to my approach. As it reached me, it disdainfully left the track, making off into the landscape. The solitude was medicine for my city-weary soul.

I arrived in Gharagab at about 17:30 where camp warden Eric showed me to a small two-bed, log-walled, self-catering unit with a tented roof. I dumped my gear and headed for the lookout tower on a small hillock behind the camp. As I clambered up the rough-hewn log steps, a 360-degree vista unfolded before me. Today I’d arrived just in time. The sun was wallowing on the horizon as if reluctant to depart the day, setting the trees and grasses alight. Slowly it succumbed and night wrestled over the landscape. I became lost in my thoughts, my camera lying unused in hands grown quiet.

The 4×4 trail that leads from Gharagab back to the main road is a lot more challenging than the road into camp. Although it’s only 29km, progress is slow and you’ve plenty of time to smell the camel thorns, the dune dust, the grasses. Three dunes need to be negotiated on the way out, each one requiring different 4×4 gear combinations. My faith in the Pajero held: Pajero 3, Kgalagadi 0. After reporting at Nossob, refuelling, lowering the tyre pressure from 180 kPa to 150kPa and stocking up from the shop, I left Nossob through the back gate. I was aiming for the Bitterpan 4×4 trail, but found myself at an unmarked fork in the road. Taking a flier, I followed the tracks leading off left into the dunes; it was a fortuitous guess and I was on the trail. Two-and-a-half hours and 53 kilometres later I’d traversed through rolling grasslands and had good sightings of red hartebeest, steenbok, gemsbok and eland.

The wilderness camp of Bitterpan overlooks a huge pan. The entire unit is built on short stilts and is far more communal in nature than the other wilderness camps. Being my third day solo in the Kgalagadi, I was looking forward to sitting around a fire with fellow travellers. As I was introducing myself, one of the other guests called out that she’d just seen lionesses on the ridge behind camp. We all leapt up to have a look. Sure enough there they were, nine in total sauntering down the road towards camp.

The lionesses came right into camp to drink from a small watering point behind Willem, the camp warden’s cabin. As the lionesses approached, he dashed across to fetch his rifle and was now peering round his door, keeping an eye on them – and us.

Half an hour and many photographic frames later, the lionesses mooched off, most likely to the waterhole on the pan itself. We ventured out of the protective surrounds of camp to the fire area and soon had a good blaze going. A Northern Karoo farmer and I were sitting jawing about sightings, preparing to cook our well earned steaks, when out of the darkness we heard a sneeze. We grabbed our torches to investigate, only to find a few pairs of eyes glowing back at us. The lionesses had finished at the waterhole and stalked us in the darkness… Cautiously we got up and retreated to the deck, careful not to make any sudden movements. As we moved back the whole pride moved forwards, coming into the firelight.

The lionesses, it seemed, were in a playful mood and in no hurry to move on. Circling the camp, they tackled the low stick fence that lines the entrance track, prizing sticks from the fence for a game. Only after much romping and tussling over possession of the sticks did they finally move off into the darkness.

Full of bravado we headed back to our fire to braai our steaks. After all, we would be safe next to the fire as lions are scared of fire, right? By we, I mean three out of the seven guests. The others remained safely ensconced on the deck behind us peering anxiously into the darkness lest the lionesses return.

The next morning I went to the fireplace, surrounded by the soft red sand of the Kgalagai, to look at the lion tracks. I paced the distance off from where we were sitting next to the fire to where the lioness had sneezed whilst lying prone. 15 meters. A lioness could cover that distance in a second. Quite literally saved by a sneeze!

I said my farewells to my fireside compatriots and the Kgalagadi itself. It was time to head home. Time to get back into cellphone reception and no doubt a stack of messages. Time to face city reality once more.

As I dawdled down to Twee Rivieren black-backed jackals, blue wildebeest, gemsbok, ostriches, steenbok, springbok, a Cape fox and an African wild cat all made appearances. How could I not stop?

On the way out I stopped at Gus’s office to tell him about our fireside sneeze. He roared with laughter and said to me, “Didn’t you know that the Kalahari Black mane lions are not scared of fire?” I do now.

Eventually, with Twee Rivieren behind me, I hit the tar and my messages. But once the Kalahari dust has seeped into your blood, it beckons for your return. I long for the solitude of the Kgalagadi, that place of peace.

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