Jessie’s spotting again. We booked a stay in a treehouse at Bonamanzi. Arriving too early for check-in, we took a walk in the camp while waiting for the key.
Dad there’s a yellow frog. Where, Jess? Omigawd Dad, there’s a snake! Where, Jess?
I aim my binocs where she’s pointing on the ground and spot a beautiful, slender green snake. It lunges forward. Now I’m watching a bright green snake with a bright yellow frog in its beak. It makes for a tree, carrying it’s prey like a tiny peeled mango. Now, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that our little yellow frog has croaked.
– Aargh! Didn’t have my camera with me! –
But wait! The unhappy frog is unwilling to die, and with a mighty kick it ruks los and hops off, snake in pursuit. That frog hopped well over twenty times higher than its full 36mm body length, three huge jumps in a row with that frog-catching specialist snake in hot pursuit. Then suddenly, maybe becoming aware of our presence, the snake changed it’s mind, abandoned the chase and beetled off. The frog paused for a breather and let me get close:
– cellphone camera is better for close-ups –
The frog was a Tinker Reed Frog, the snake likely a Natal Green Snake, but could also have been a Green Water Snake. About 600mm long I’d guess.
– the scene of the hunt, the grip and the escape –
Here he is, saying Holy Shit That Was Close!
Actually, I couldn’t find his call, so as a placeholder, I used a frog I hope to hear in the Chimanimani mountains on our upcoming trip to Zimbabwe. Enjoy.
~~oo0oo~~
ruks los – heroically frees himself with a well-aimed kick in the fangs with his one leg the snake didn’t quite secure; or maybe boxed him a left hook with his free fist?
Jess and Tom share a birthday, so Tuesday was lunch in Umhlanga Rocks for urban Tom, and Thursday was a picnic in Mfolosi game reserve for nature guide Jess. Once again we forgot to take pics in the gateway centre, being far too busy eating, chatting, banking – Tom – and shopping for clothes – Jess.
A warm overcast day with a cool wind in the game reserve, and we remembered the cameras!
Breakfast was egg-mayo sandwiches and coffee made by Jess; Lunch was gourmet burgers flipped by Dad. Jess had brought three puddings, but we couldn’t – took them home.
On the way out an open game drive vehicle from a lodge outside the park needed help. The mighty Ford Ranger could help the Toyota Landcruiser with jumper cables and a no.10 spanner. Unfortunately his battery was dead as a dodo and needed a new one swopped out from a lodge backup vehicle, which was in the park with four staff members to lay out a lavish lunch for the pampered guests. But hey! we scored an ice cold beer and a coke from their cooler box. Thanks, safari guide man!
The kitchen tap mixer started leaking and I couldn’t complain. No-one would listen if I did, as I now own the joint! Luckily we have a three litre plastic jug, so for the last couple months Jess and I have fetched water from the bathroom to use in the kitchen. It’s the simplest solution.
I did go under the sink and loosen the fitting and check out what was needed. A 22mm spanner and a new mixer. In Westville we saw a beautiful one for a mere R3000 so we carefully placed it back and tiptoed out of the plumbers supplies store. I chose to focus on my dilemma of not having a 22mm spanner and stick with that useful loophole. After all, the bathroom basin in the cottage is a mere fourteen steps from the furthest of the twin sinks.
Anyhow something happened that wouldn’t wait and didn’t have an easy/lazy solution: The soakpit started overflowing. So I dug it up and fixed it. Well, would have, but there were only two spades and the guys helping me – who actually knew what they were doing – were using them.
Ownership is overrated.
I kept planning though. I even priced a 22mm spanner, but decided against buying it. The next day, checking my slip, I noticed the hardware store had actually charged me for it. So I rushed back to the store – ten days later. Luckily they were chill and handed me the spanner, so I have one less excuse. One day I’ll buy a shiny or matt new silver mixer and become a plumber. My pants do slip below my belt sometimes as I Ben Dover, exposing my jockeys and more, so I’m partially qualified.
~~oo0oo~~
Meanwhile, the creatures in the garden don’t mind.
We chose the Renosterkoppies road to Lower Sabie. Too beautiful. I’d love to drive it again with more time; take drinks and lunch along.
In camp, a rasping ruckus drew my attention to a furious Black-collared Barbet chasing a Lesser Honeyguide wanting to lay an egg in his nest. I’ve seen that dogfight before.
In the river and at sunset dam, Egyptian Geese, Black-wing Stilt, Black-wing Lapwing, Spoonbill, Three-Banded Plover, Hamerkop, Buffalo Weavers, White-faced Whistling Duck, Hadeda Ibis, Indian Myna, Yellow-billed Stork, fifteen Grey Heron on one tiny island in the river, Reed Cormorant, Black Crake, Village Weaver,
Crocodile bridge camp
A lovely Robin trifecta! Bearded Scrub Robin, White-browed (Heuglins/Hooligans) Robin-Chat, White-throated Robin-Chat. Three cuckoos, Red-chested, Diederik and a Klaas’ male courting his love interest, tirelessly bringing her grubs and finding her no matter where she moved to in a big sycamore fig. Three barbets, Black-collared, Yellow-rumped Tinker bird and an Acacia Pied; Terrestrial Brownbul, White-bellied Sunbird, Spectacled Weaver pair, Tawny-flanked Prinia, Trumpeter Hornbill, Bulbul, Brubru, Lesser Honeyguide calling from a calling post above us, Sombre Greenbul, Gymnogene Harrier-Hawk,
Twenty giraffe in a group just outside camp; A croc eating a zebra; A snooze of eleven lionesses and cubs in shade on a riverbed; inside the camp, a number of bushbuck does, one with a tiny fawn, and one ram.
Park, watch and listen. The creatures will come, almost anywhere. That’s my theory (I have many). Take coffee.
See this pic of one of my stakeouts? There are lots and lots of creatures watching me and listening intently, methinks. So I counter-lurk, waiting for them to make a move or a chirp. I do this regularly. The theory hypothesises thus: As you drive or walk in nature, all the creatures think, Hark! A dangerous predator approacheth. The most dangerous one, in fact. So they keep tjoepstil, duck behind a leaf or a branch, a bush or below the grass, depending on where they find themselves and how big or small they are. And freeze. You then hove into view making a helluva racket – and that’s when you’re tip-toeing and not talking. Once you’re safely past they give a giggle (interpreted by ethologists as an ‘all-clear’ signal which correctly interpreted says “intruder’s gone”) and carry on with their daily business. This explains why you can go on a long ‘birding walk’ and see buggerall; then in camp over a cold beer you can be mobbed by flocks.
Phabeni Gate and upper Sabie River area
As Jess was studying for her nature guide course online exam, holed up in our room at Sleepover, where we found good wifi signal, I went for morning drives, entering the Kruger through Phabeni Gate nearby. In the park, Jess prefers to keep moving – ‘it’s called a Game *Drive* for a reason, Dad’ – so this is my chance to practice my gentle lurking skills. By doing one of my patented lurks: Sort of Game ‘Parking.’ Saving diesel.
Forgot my coffee the first morning, so bought a cuppa from this mobile caffeine pusher at the gate. Thutty five South African Ront, followed by his salesman patter, ‘It’s usually forty Ront, but you are my first customer this fine morning.’ It was indeed a fine morning, so he got R35 plus a R5 tip.
Soon a Dark Chanting Goshawk started chanting on the uppermost twigs;
a Slender Mongoose stared at me briefly after crossing the road to the left; a Grey Duiker and tiny fawn dashed across the road to the right – I wondered if something was chasing them; nothing appeared; Redheaded Weavers were nesting in the untidy grassy nests, a Sabota Lark started singing.
Goshawk, Weaver & Lark
Brubru, Black Flycatcher, Rattling Cisticola, Southern Black Tit, Fork-tailed Drongo, Cape Turtle Dove, Blue Waxbill, Golden-breasted Bunting, Crested Barbet, Grey Hornbill, Bulbul, Gorgeous Bush-shrike, Emerald-spotted Wood Dove; Here’s a Black-crowned Tchagra, thanks to xeno-canto.org
At my next stakeout, within earshot of the Sabie river, a big Boer Bean Schotia, an Apple-leaf in flower, and a Marula were the trees I could identify. Green Pigeon, Red-eyed Dove, White-bellied Sunbird, Violet-backed Starling feasting on berries, Burchell’s Starling, Greater Blue-eared glossy Starling, Fish Eagle, Black-bellied Starling, Marico Sunbird. And a juvenile Martial Eagle being escorted off the premises by a Drongo.
~~oo0oo~~
Once Jess tagged along and we drove the right bank of the Sabie. We* saw more animals, tis true, including these, plus impala and nyala.
*We – Jess slept for more than half the drive!
~~oOo~~
audio from xeno-canto.org – thank you – a wonderful site
Jess is an amazing spotter. She has spotted two snakes in trees, one snake I had missed on the ground and once in Shingwedzi campsite she said, Dad, a snake just fell out of that tree! If it had been anyone else I’d have laughed and said, ‘Pull The Other One,’ but being Jess, I knew a snake had just dropped out of a tree.
Now she said, Dad, there’s a warthog in that tree! and of course there was, and now she was trying to get me to spot the leopard that had put it up there.
There, Dad! His ear flicked! I stared and stared through my Zeiss binocs. I double- and triple-checked I was looking in the right place. We carefully tracked the rock, the branch and the twig where she was looking, but each ear twitch and each I can see his spots through a gap in the branches had me thinking, the wind has stirred a leaf, or she’s seeing dappled sunlight.
After thirty minutes of focused peering and Jessie’s exasperation at Dof Dad: ‘Omigoodness Jess, a leopard just sat up! Right there where you said!’
Hot days, windy days, rainy days, cooler and even some cold weather. At first we could only snare four nights in the Kruger Park. Letaba, Skukuza, Satara and Pretoriuskop camps. One night each as we were asking for ‘any available space for tonight? ‘ Later we left the park to spend six nights just outside Phabeni gate for strong wifi and aircon for Jess as she wrote online exams; Then back into the park for two nights in Lower Sabie camp and our last night at Crocodile Bridge camp. That was the first time we’d stayed in those lovely camps. Now the only camps we haven’t yet stayed in are Malelane, Orpen and Pafuri Border Camp. We’ll get to them one day.
Lots of eles, huge herds of buffalo, plenty antelope and the most predators I’ve seen over such a short time. Three lion sightings, a dozen hyena sightings including three dens with pups, two leopard sightings, four Slender Mongoose, two Dwarf Mongoose. One hyena was going Hnngnng! then looked at us and said, Do You MInd?!
So we searched for a leopard. ‘I see him, he’s flicking his ear,’ said Jess. Thirty minutes later I finally saw him when he sat up!
At last I also see it!
At Skukuza a last-minute cancellation got us a chalet instead of camping, to Jessie’s delight. AND it was a brand-new bungalow, which Terry Brauer had told us about just a day or so before!
Two days later, 100km south of the first leopard: ‘There! Walking to the right!’ Jess again:
In the shop at PretoriusKop a lovely friendly lady takes my payment and says, “I recognise you guys, you were here two years ago.” Wow! Or did the till show we’d last purchased there two years ago? Anyway, friendly!
‘Pee two-by-two,’ said their teacher, standing at the door, not wanting to enter the gents. They heard, but were too busy staring at the ancient pale fella who had pushed ahead of them with apologies to them and their teacher. I was BUSTING, two coffees over budget.
Hordes of preschoolers in green t-shirts on a Kruger Park outing, each one cuter than the next. The girls were queueing next door. Three could finish pee-ing, staring at me from knee-height while I stood sighing with relief. One engaged me in earnest conversation while we both aimed at the porcelain. I caught ‘granpa’ mkhulu and ‘elephant’ ndlovu, so I just nodded and agreed. I’m sure it was complimentary.
You’re a star, well done! I said to teacher as I left. She grinned and told the next four to go in, trying in vain to get them to pee duets, but they carried on going one at a time. Obviously soloists.
As I left another teacher was taking their pics one by one in front of the huge bronze bust of Oom President Paul Kruger!
Teachers are under-rated.
~~oo0oo~~
The image is kids from Skukuza primary school on a litter cleanup day – thanks, Citizen newspaper
This time we must remember to take photos, Dad! Especially one of us in a recognisable place – a nice backdrop. Right, Jess.
Lots of eles, including one herd heading north in a long straggling line through the bush, crossing in front of us twice, thanks to a dogleg in the road. I counted fifty, but Jess, who hadn’t counted, said, No Dad, there were about fifteen! So I said OK there were forty. Luckily I took a video of one of the batches moving past – added below.
We give eles lots of room, as Jess is very cautious of them. Even at a good hundred metres a few of the young males gave us the Hey! Watch Yourself! ear shake.
Lots and LOTS of warthogs, all happily covered in mud. One sounder had longer crests/manes than usual – and light, like blonde – looked like Rod Stewart as a quintuplet. Seven square-lipped rhino; One mama with a small calf crossed right in front of us – no photo!
Surprisingly, a number of birds considering the stiff breeze that blew all day. We considered taking lunch in the car, but Sontuli picnic site is sheltered, so we used the last available table. Good to see a number of people having lunch there, parking an assortment of very capable and well-modified 4X4 vehicles with raised suspension and knobbly tyres next to the Fiat Unos that keep them humble.
Another photo missed by staring-in-awesome-wonder was a gathering of vultures on a wide sandy beach on a bend in the Black Mfolosi River, sunning and sand-bathing. Joined by Woolly-necked Storks, Pied Crows, Blacksmith Lapwing and Yellow-billed Kites.
– same stretch of river, different visit –
Also saw buffalo, wildebeest, zebra, giraffe banging heads, baboon, impala, nyala and kudu (only one); Went on a detour in search of cheetah, sent by an excited lady on her own in a bakkie who said we couldn’t miss them. The spot she thought the group of four cats would obligingly wait for us was about twenty minutes away. But Jess wanted to go so of course we did. The friendly lady hadn’t nailed them down so they’d felt free to wander off. Still, nice drive on a road we don’t usually use as it’s an entrance route from the western Gengeni gate which we have only exited twice to explore the interesting Ulundi to Melmoth road.
Two millimetres above the apex of the tiled roof of my wooden hut a monster BANG! made me jump in my office chair where I was sitting, shortening my life according to longevity influencers. Buh-Liksem! That was LOUD!
It was the second-loudest thunderclap I’ve ever heard, I think. The loudest was in the Drakensberg near The Cavern many moons ago.
Some rain fell, the clouds parted, the sun shone and the birds started back up, saying, like me, What The Hell Was That? Hadedas, Trumpeter Hornbills, Lesser Honeyguide, Darkbacked Weaver, Scarlet-chested Sunbird, White-eyes and an African Green Pigeon:
Next day: An African Harrier Hawk – gymnogene – calling.
~~oo0oo~~
Another loud and close bang was in Hilltop Camp in Hluhluwe Game Reserve back in 2015.
There goes my last Tanza cup. Damn! They’re my best – thin ceramic, lovely to drink from. Were my best. Its a tragic loss – Jimmy Buffet even wrote a song about it:
Actually, my last delicate cashmere china cup lasted longer than I’d have bet. It went everywhere with me on my travels. Here one of them is at home, enjoying the birds, Sambucca the Lab’s company and my Tom-made Breakfast for Dad, which Sambucca can smell. She’s probly thinking ‘unfair!’
Health brekker laid on, Binocs, Birds, Coffee and a Labrador – whattalife!
Go and have a look at them on entoceramics.com – they’re the ones with nguni cattle artwork. We had bowls and plates with insects and sunbirds too. Time took its toll on them. The last cup travelled with me in my bakkie camper after I’d sold my home and lasted well, but I bumped it with my elbow and when it hit the tiled floor – kaput. Oh well, sold my Westville house March 2022 and bought a cottage in Mtunzini May 2025 and the last cup made the full journey.
Check out Tanza’s entoceramics website for the beautiful artwork
I sms’d Jules (she wasn’t wakker genoeg to be on signal.org yet) from my stoep after she had visited me while I was whiling away my last weeks in Westville, waiting for the sale of my home to go through so I could hand over the keys to the new owners, and hit the road in my Ford Ranger. ca.2022. The year. The Ranger is 2008.
Jules! I just saw a kill in my binocs! A flying predator flew low over the water, executed an instant 180°, then a vertical lunge and nabbed its prey, biting its head off. (I imagine that last part, the prey was actually too small to see that kind of detail).
I spose I could have been more succinct: ‘Dragonfly Munches Miggie‘
While he was chewing, another dragonfly challenged him. A brief aerial dogfight ensued, then discretion was judged the better part of valour and they said Wag n Biekie and called a truce. Or maybe the challenge ended once he’d swallowed?
Exciting stuff! I’ve had my exercise for the morning.
I managed to shoot him while he was burping contentedly – his prey show up as even more blurry whitish fuzzballs.
‘Help yourself darling, it’s a free world,’ says the auntie fishing.
I’d asked if my stopping on the causeway would disturb their fishing.
I’m looking for herons and finfoot at a little inlet into the river. As I sit quietly I overhear their talk. ‘I’d even settle for an eel at this stage,’ says one. Ah, nothing’s biting, I gather. Then something I couldn’t catch followed by, ‘Well, there’s an aeroplane that’s flown oversomewhere.’
Ah, time for a dop! It is after all, well after 8am. The sun may still be well under the yardarm, but she’s probably right about that aeroplane . .
Dad, I can’t think what to have for our third supper camping. Don’ wurrie Jess, I’ll do the first night, you just do two suppers. What’ll you do Dad? she asked, maybe regretting opening her mouth. Don’ wurrie Jess, I have a plan.
Her query had reminded me that our cottage came with three stainless steel braais, two built-in, and three braai grids, and two huge bags of charcoal – not your garage forecourt size – and eight plastic-wrapped bags of braaihout. I packed the grid, a bag of braaihout, fahlahter, safety matches, and two T-bones. I was going to become a brauer. How hard could it be?
At Bonamanzi there’s a built-in brick braaiplek, no grid. I go scouting the sixteen sites, only two occupied, and find a grid, collecting twigs as I go. At dusk I set the well-packed pyramid-shaped pyre alight and stand back watching the blaze with satisfaction, marveling at how easy this is and how okes gaan aan about their secret and foolproof ‘methods,’ etc and blah blah. When I have glowing hardehout coals – and admittedly still a bit of flame, I’m hungry so I sandwich the Spar-marinaded vacuum-packed very thinly-sliced bargain T-bones into my nifty snap-shut stainless steel braai grid that came wif the cottage, and plop them on top of the camp grid over the red hot coals. With a bit of flame.
I’m attending them noukeurig when the other camper drives in in the dark and I make the mistake of shouting across my coals, How was your drive? Turns out he thinks he should tell me.
He bustles over and tells me. I didn’t catch his name but if it isn’t Earnest it should be. Great detail about how their drive was not good, no elephant. Then where he’s from and what his 4X4 is and which one he actually wanted to buy (Nissan Pathfinder / Nissan Patrol) and how – exactly how – he built his own camper trailer on his parents farm and what he kitted it out with with his own hands and how although the trailer was old, the wheel bearings were still shiny silver when he took them apart. Also the pros and cons of a gazebo.
I’m shuffling and he’s getting into his stride and I’m polite. A fatal combination, which brings Jess with a torch to say, Dad you’ve burnt the meat!
~~oo0oo~~
braai – barbecue
braaihout – barbecue
braaiplek – barbecue
brauer– barbecue deskundige
deskundige – expert, but only in pyromania
noukeurig – barbecue with focus
gaan aan – barbecue talk
~~oo0oo~~
The campsites here are lovely
Nice winter birdlist in three days:
Yellowthroat Petronia, Purple-banded Sunbird, Emerald spotted wood Dove, Red eyed Dove, Egyptian Goose, Spurwing Goose, Great white Egret, Cattle Egret, Grey Heron, Reed Cormorant, Anhinga/Darter, Greater Honeyguide, Stonechat, Rufous-naped Lark, Orange-breasted Bushshrike, Gorgeous Bushshrike, S Boubou, Chinspot Batis, Puffback, Golden-tailed Woodpecker, S Banded Snake Eagle, Fiery-necked Nightjar, Wood Owl, Fish Eagle, Yellow-breasted Apalis, Crested Guineafowl, Spectacled Weaver, Darkbacked Weaver, Green Woodhoopoe, Yellowthroated Longclaw, Eastern Nicator, Camaroptera, Yellow-bellied Greenbul, Bulbul, Fiscal Shrike, Brown-hooded Kingfisher, Striped Kingfisher, Crowned Lapwing, Spotted Thick-knee, Ashy Flycatcher, Dusky Flycatcher, African Goshawk, S Black Tit, Fork-tailed Drongo, S Black Flycatcher, Black-crowned Tchagra, Pied Crow, Lipstick (don’t call me common) Waxbill, Crested Barbet, Yellow-rumped Tinker, Pied Wagtail, Cape Glossy Starling, Red-breasted Swallow, White Helmet-shrike, Burchell’s Coucal, Crested Francolin, Crowned Hornbill, Hadeda, African Jacana, 59
Often in my young life a bowl of dry crumbly uphuthu would arrive ready to eat, absolutely delicious with milk and sugar which I’d add all by my own self. Yum. Then the bowl would disappear never to be seen again until it was back sparkling clean on another day, filled with phuthu. Like magic. Made by Selina, mostly, who might also make egg, toast and bacon on a flat plate. I was pleasantly spoilt and didn’t know how things worked. Just that they did.
Recently we bought a 1kg packet of Nyala mealie meal from Mtunzini Spar and I’ve been successfully making iphalishi, slap pap, soft maize meal porridge to rave reviews from Jessie. Today I thought How Hard Can It Be? I’m going to make phuthu. Oh boy.
I make my phalishi in a glass bowl in the microwave but for some reason I think phuthu has to be made in a stainless steel pot with steel handles on a gas hob. Ouch, bliksem those handles get hot. So add the meal to the water that burnt me, add more meal, steam up the spectacles, stir occasionally, whoa! a lump has flown overboard and plopped down between the stove and the cupboard. Now I have to grovel and stretch in the tight space to get it out with my bum in the air cos I told Jess we mustn’t leave any crumbs for ants or cockroaches or mice. We found some mouse poo when we moved in and I was telling her that’s what brings certain snakes – the smell of rodents. Sometimes I should just shurrup.
To stir occasionally I have to hold the lid with a double-folded dishcloth and also the pot handle with the same hand while I’m stirring with the other hand so it doesn’t slide around. What’s that smell and why is Jessie laughing? Oh, the dishcloth got into the flame and is burning quite nicely. Damn.
Check the recipe on the Nyala pack: Stir occasionally, cook for 35 to 45 minutes. 35 to 45 minutes! Are they mad? I don’t do anything for 35mins non-stop. On average I do 35 unproductive things in 35 minutes.
Eventually its done and it tastes quite nice although its stickier, not dry and crumbly as I remember it and like it best. Once we open doors and windows the burning smell fades but the pot looks terrible, black and crusty, sending Jess off into uncontrolled giggling.
After breakfast Barbara phones and puts Mom on the line. She listens amused then says, Put water in the pot and heat it till the black crust loosens up.
OK, but no more phuthu. Forget it. That’s my breakfast ePiphany. Tomorrow Jess will make egg and toast if she can stop laughing like Audrey Hepburn.
~~oo0oo~~
Rave reviews from Jessie: I freely admit she is generous with her praise and in fact is very disapproving of Gordon Ramsay’s foul-mouthed rants describing food as shit and worse. She says even though at times it’s difficult, you can always find something kind to say about Dad’s cooking.
