"Topophilia. Kariba to Mana Pools." Kariba by Adaptor-Plug

It Seemed A Good Idea At The Time.

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African elephants are best. I know this because I'd been to London Zoo, and Chessington and Whipsnade, and had seen most of the varieties on offer. Hemmingway and Orwell were elephant blokes. Ernest shot African ones with passion. George shot an Indian one with regret. So I do know about elephants.

In books, elephants don't smell. In zoos they do. If you get what I mean. And on the Zambezi, a few days downstream from Kariba, while doing a canoe safari, an African elephant got a right good waft of me.

Our guide, Ndoro (a financial advisor dropout from Harare) had asked for a volunteer to take a stroll onto dry land and steal a close up of a 10,000lb Loxodonta bull (it wasn't difficult to notice that it was a bull, a safe estimate would be around 45lbs in that department).

I had volunteered. The other three weren't so keen. Preferred to hang back in the boats they did. Closer to the bathing hippos.

I was ready for the briefing session.

"Stay behind me, and be very, very quiet"

"Rightio."

That, was the briefing session.

No concerns about a bright orange tee shirt then? Not bothered about you being a tiddly little bloke and me being like huge? Any helpful novice advice what with me never having done this? Thoughts about a Plan B?

The Zambezi riverbanks can get muddy after a lashing it down all night long Zimbabwean storm. This bank was definitely muddy. Up to our knees in the stuff we were, after just ten yards. (Not much chance of a quick sprint at the first sign of it going pear shaped.) That mud is why, in the photo up top, me and yer man look like we've been sawn off at the thighs. Yer man's gun wasn't sawn off. It was a well tough version. Most hunting rifles are.

"Excuse me. Errr. How close are we intending to go?"
Whimper whimper.

"Oh, very close. Be very very quiet."

Those ears, the ones behind the dobbing great tusks, were starting to flap. By the way, the tusks looked like they had seen some previous action. And it was doing a "thing." A thing with its foot. A thing that wasn't a "Come closer guys, do me in profile" thing. It was another sort of thing. It came over as more Travis Bickle; "Are you walking at me, are you walking at me? I don't see anyone else here."

Ndoro: "We are on the good side of the wind. Be very very quiet."

Whimper whimper. Slurp, in the mud, slurp.

I'm pretty sure that elephants aren't supposed to do all that 'eye to eye' that this one was now doing. Assumption correct. Yer man now had that rifle up at his shoulder.

" What thuffffff ? "

"Quiet. Very quiet."

Not a man for lenghty instructions and reassurance eh? And if he's not even risked saying the usual "be" then I'm thinking this must be hotting up.

"Christ, I hope this beast hasn't got issues with a grandparent being shot by Ernest", I'm thinking. "I'm the white bloke, and the one without a gun, I'm fairly sure I'm number one on his stomping list." Of course, my thoughts were quiet. Very very quiet.

AND THEN, and now I quote from my noteboook, and then, "it jerked back its head, the head jerk type you get when you nod nod nod nod off in a hot, stuffy meeting room and wake up a split second later with a startle. Then the tusked hunk started to run at us. Galloping through the mud. Coming our way. Ndoro was there and he was ready to give it a brain shot. But all he did was shout 'Oi Oi !' "

(Oi Oi. I could have done that. I could have shouted Oi Oi. Why didn't he tell me about the Oi Oi and let me shout the Oi Oi when it got to the pantwetting? Oi Oi. Why use a trident missile when you can simply shout Oi Oi at the Soviets? Oi Oi. Yeah, that could reduce the UK's nuclear defense budget.)

A single burst was sufficient.

And. We stood. All three of us. Him doing his ears, probably thinking, "Did that bloke just shout 'Oi Oi' ?" Me clenching my bum. Ndoro with his rifle still raised up and wedged in near his shoulder.

"Back to the canoe."

"Do I be very very quiet?"

No. I didn't say that. But believe you me, I was.

Uhhuhhhhhhhh. Breathing out sound. Best hundred dollars I'd ever spent.

I was relieved my man didn't have to shoot an elephant just because he'd asked for a volunteer. I was more glad later, back home. Glad because my pals had been shooting from the canoe. Being a lamp, I left and forgot my roll - with the close ups / over the shoulder views - in the Land Rover.

These days, I don't wear orange tee shirts when I'm outside my comfort zone.

Next.

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