The 2022 Africa Journals, Chapter 33: The Trip to Musiara Swamp, Part One

(To view photos in a l larger format, click on one and scroll through the thumbnails that appear on the screen bottom.)

 Chapter 33:

The Trip to Musiara Swamp

Part One

  

Nothing but breathing the air of Africa, and actually walking through it, can communicate the indescribable sensations.

--William Burchell

It's five o'clock, the darkest hour before dawn, when Shelly hears noises outside her tent.   She grabs her flashlight, unzips the tent fly and sees two men, armed with flashlights and spears, standing on her deck.

She looks at my tent 15 yards away and sees more men there. They huddle together  and the men explain that they are concerned as they are unable to wake me.  She goes with them and  steps onto my deck.

jeanne?

No response.  Again and again and now they are all very concerned.

Jeanne?   JEANNE?

Then, at a volume that makes the yellow-winged bat in the tree next to my tent want to take flight, and the bushbabies flinch in the acacia tree next to Shelly's tent,  at a decibel level that awakens all men, birds, and animals in the area, in a shout guaranteed to raise the dead, which is exactly what is needed at this time:

JEANNE!!!

As Shelly puts it, "I screamed at you. That evoked a sweet "Good morning" from you, and smiles and giggle from everyone outside the tent.

I heard Shelly call my name once but though the sound penetrated my ears, my brain refused to process it.   Same with the second call.   Only until the third tent-shaking call did I understand someone was calling my name and it was time to wake up.  It was a peculiar sensation, that of hearing the third call and then remembering the previous two.

I'm up.   I'm excited about today.   We are going to one of my favorite places in the Maasai Mara.   It's a long drive and we'll be out all day. 

The light green is the Maasai Mara and Musiara Swamp is located along the aqua area at the 11 o;clock position.  The two darker greens are the conservancies of Naboisho and Olare Motorogi on the left, and the yellow is Mara North.   Our camp is located in the small beige area under OMC.      No, not that one--the tiny beige spot.

The Maasai Mara National Reserve is 580 square miles large.   W hen you add the private conservancies that border it, it doubles the amount of habitat for wild animals.   None of them are fenced.

It's still dark when we leave camp.   Marg and I are in Francis's truck.

It isn't much of a sunrise but when you see anything silhouetted against the sky. even if it's the ubiquitous Egyptian goose, it's time for a photo.

We find a hippo slowly making its was back to the water where it will spend the day, protecting its hide from sunburn and heat.   They graze all night in the grasslands.

A spotted hyena temporarily leaves it reflection in a puddle.

There are rumors of a leopard hiding in a patch of brush ahead of us. We scurry there and look, but cannot find it. Instead, a beautiful antelope is highlighted by the morning sunlight.   I have never seen one of these before.

Bohar reedbuck

Leopard or no, this female Bohar reedbuck decided to get away from the brush and out in the open.

The Bohar reedbuck female is a foot taller at the shoulder than its dwarf cousins.

Finally, we are at the Musiara airstrip and stop to photograph the wildlife at two small ponds.


This airstrip at 5160 feet elevation is probably the most well-known strip in the Maasai Mara out of the ten located in the reserve.    It's 1600 meters of well-maintained gravel. The first time I visited the Mara, in 2017, we landed here although our camp was at least an hour away. The airstrip there was closed for maintenance.

I am so glad serendipity was paying attention on that trip, because it was not far from the Musiara strip that I saw my one and only Kori Bustard  displaying. I have seen many Koris since, but none were displaying.

I was mouth-open astonished when I saw it.

From 2017.  The male kori is about five feet tall and can weight up to 42 lbs.   It is the heaviest animal capable of flight.

Normal appearance.

Even when they are not displaying, they make a nice sunrise photo.   I had this photo sublimated onto metal and it's hanging on my living room wall.

From 2017

Back to today and the Mara savannah grasslands.   Zebra are only one of the animals that like to walk in  single file when moving to another location.

A number of ostriches are searching the grass for edibles.  

This one was in the act of standing up.   It might have been dust-bathing or just sitting on the warm dirt.

  One male has romance on its mind and follows this female for a long time, but is rebuffed constantly.   Finally, when she does get into a receptive position, he misses his chance.   I wonder if he couldn't see around his engorged neck.

And then we're at the ponds.

Egyptian goose.   

Black-winged stilt.

Black-winged stilt.

Black-headed heron.

These are white-faced whistling ducks.   They are very shy, so these photos are cropped to show your their beautiful colors.

Francis drags me away from this wonderful birding spot and heads for the trees.    I am still wondering when we will get to the Musiara swamp.    We must be close because we were beside the airstrip.

And looks what appears in a bush right beside the trail.

This bird is a Baglafetch weaver.

We come out of the trees to this beautiful sight of the Mara River.

The guys are setting up breakfast for us.

There's fruit, toast, croissants, bacon and sausages, potatoes, beans, mushrooms, veggies, hard boiled eggs.   And lots more out of the photos.

The Mara river in the other direction.

We chased this Little bee-eater around.   It was very cooperative.   If a bird flies off it will often return to the same perch.

Big ol' croc!

Two large crocs in back and three hippos sunning themselves.

Hippos, hippos, hippos, and a big rock.

After breakfast, we begin the long journey back in the direction of camp.

(To be continued)

The 2020 Africa Journals

Chapter Six

Hippos and Hornbills

Have you ever wondered what the decibel level would be like if you were standing 15 feet away from the speakers at a rock concert?   For an authentic approximation, stand next to a hippopotamus and listen to its grunts, groans, growls, wheezes, and chuffs.

Better yet, save your hearing and your life by lying in bed in your tent and enjoy the hippo serenade from the nearby waterway.

On a game drive one morning in Chobe National Park, we stop to watch these rotund animals frolicking and splashing in their small pool, all of which involve wide-open mouths.  Inside those gaping mouths are some fearsome weapons.

 

The front teeth, the incisors, grow outward and can reach more than a foot in length.  The canines, though, called tusks, can be close to a foot and a half and are extremely sharp and deadly.

The juveniles we watch do not appear to have grown those weapons of mass destruction yet, so their play is just joyous to watch.   Though their name is derived from the Greek word for river horse, and they resemble pigs, the hippo is more closely related to whales and dolphins.

No sign of the deadly teeth in this juvenile's mouth.

How many photos of playing hippos do I want, I ask myself.   I notice action in other parts of the pond and pretty soon I’m trying to catch photos of hippo farts.

Yes, farts.   They are herbivores. Adults eat about 90 lbs. of grass every night.   Imagine the gas they can pass.   Adults are taller than I am at the shoulder and weigh between 3000 and 9000 lbs.   Since they spend about 16 hours a day in the water, what do you suppose happens when they need to release that air?

Explosions of water, that’s what.  

Hippos are not all fun and games and methane farts, however.   They kill hundreds of people in Africa every year.   Not only can the beast run 20 mph but they are just plain ornery and territorial.   They attack boats and crush anyone they grab.

So let’s move on.

Down the road a-ways, we spot a juvenile and an adult red-billed hornbill sitting on some dead branches.   The larger bird has something in its bill that it transfers to the juvenile, then flies a short distance to forage on the ground.

When she returns, she has something with long thin legs in her bill, most likely a grasshopper or locust.   She passes it to junior and flies off.

When she returns with another insect, junior refuses to take it.    Mom gets frustrated.   She holds the insect high in the air and then swoops down to junior like she’s playing, “Here comes the plane.  Open wide.”

 

Junior refuses.  Mom insists.   Junior reluctantly accepts the insect, which I think is a brown locust, but holds it in its beak for a long time.   Mom waits until he swallows, then goes off to find more.  

When you think about what mom went through to raise this little guy thus far, you can understand her exasperation.    First, she must find a hole in a tree.   Then, she lays three to six eggs and seals up the entrance to the nest, leaving only enough room for the male to transfer food to the female.

When the hatchlings are getting too large for the female and them, the female breaks out of the nest and it is again sealed up except for a narrow aperture through which food is passed to the chicks by both parents.  When the chicks fledge, another break-out ensues.

While this female is off hunting, junior moves to a tree where we can’t see him clearly.   Mom returns and lands in a tree about fifty feet from him and starts calling for him.   Junior won’t answer.  Little twerp.

She’s still calling as we drive away.   I think he was holding out for pizza.