Africa

The Thrill of Tracking Black Rhino in Namibia

Kangombe black rhino near Desert Rhino Camp, Namibia

Kangombe, a 38-year old black rhino with his tell-tale rip in his right ear and 3-inch slice in his front horn

As I followed the three rangers and my guide, Bons, across the endless plain of rocks, I replayed the rules in my head: 1. Be quiet 2. If something happens do whatever the rangers tell me. Seemed simple enough.

We started our search before sunrise, driving over two hours before we struck gold. Our subject was walking a quarter-mile ahead of us, sniffing his way through the low-lying vegetation. His name was Kangombe (pronounced Kan-Gome-bay), a 38 year-old black rhino the size of a suburban. The rangers identified him by a tell-tale rip in his right ear combined with a 3-inch split in his front horn.

In the wild, a rhino’s life expectancy is early forties, making Kangombe an old man, but you’d never know it by looking at him. He was a bruiser, the Duane “The Rock” Johnson of rhinos, and despite his advanced years, the dominant male in the territory.

The rugged landscape of the Palmwag Concession near Desert Rhino Camp, Namibia

The desolate yet beautiful landscape Kangombe calls home

We approached downwind on foot so as not to alert him. Rhinos have poor sight but exceptional hearing and smell, making it necessary for us to be stealthy. Like most animals, black rhinos have a natural fear of humans but they can be aggressive and despite their appearance, surprisingly fast and light on their feet. If Kangombe opted to charge, the rangers would distract him while Bons looked after my safety. No one carried a weapon.

I was on a morning game drive as a guest of Desert Rhino Camp in the Palmwag Concession along the Skeleton Coast of Namibia. Situated in the midst of the largest population of desert-adapted, free-roaming black rhino on the continent, the camp is dedicated to their survival and its efforts are the cornerstone of the camp’s appeal.

Three Save the Rhino Trust rangers and my guide Bons Roman looking for black rhino

Three Save the Rhino Trust rangers (L-R: Denzel, Jason and Efraim) and my guide Bons Roman looking for black rhino

Wilderness Safaris, which owns and operates the camp, works closely on conservation efforts with Namibia’s Save the Rhino Trust (SRT). Together they offer guests the unique opportunity to join SRT rangers in vehicles and on foot as they track, monitor and assess the conditions of the black rhinos in the region. Poaching is currently the biggest killer of black rhino (any rhino actually) and as of 2014, there are only 5055 left in Africa. The Asian market, most predominantly China, spends thousands of dollars, nearly $65,000 for 1 kilogram [2.2lbs] of rhino horn. An astounding figure considering horns are just lumps of keratin. Buyers could save themselves a lot of time and money if they’d just eat their own hair.

We stopped on the crest of a small slope parallel to Kangombe’s path. He paused to mark his territory—a common practice for males among many species. Unceremoniously, he swept his tail to the side and squirted three large streams of urine behind him. “This is MY home!” his pee declared. Other male rhinos crossing that line would be tolerated if they submitted to his rule, but if they challenged him it could get ugly. According to the information collected by the rangers over the years, Kangombe’s territory is over 300 square miles. That’s a lot of land to pee on.

Susan Portnoy and Bons Roman photograph black rhino near Desert Rhino Camp, Namibia

Me photographing Kangombe and Bons my guide from Desert Rhino Camp.

Slowly and silently we crept forward. Fifty yards from Kangombe the rangers motioned for us to stop. It was picture time. When I clicked the shutter Kangombe whirled around and faced us. We froze and waited. His ears twitched as if he were fine-tuning an antenna. We’d blown our cover but he didn’t appear stressed and the rangers nodded that I could continue shooting.

Since traveling to Africa, I’ve developed a habit of talking to the wildlife I photograph. I murmur little compliments like “Aren’t you handsome, “ or say what I think they’re thinking, like “Eww.. I don’t like this piece of grass” or “Why are those people staring at me?” Unconsciously, I began to whisper. Within a millisecond I felt a not-so-subtle finger stab my shoulder and the eyes of my companions burrowing a hole in the back of my head. At the same time Kangombe looked in our direction.  Whoops. I guess following the rules was more difficult than I thought. I flushed with embarrassment.

Kangombe, a black rhino marks his territory near Desert Rhino Camp in Namibia

Kangombe stops to mark his territory with a jet of urine he sprays onto the ground. His territory is over 300 square miles.

Kangombe resumed his regularly scheduled activities. Then it happened. To my horror my cargo pants began to chime. A singsong melody one might find in a music box—the kind with the little dancing ballerina. The rangers lunged in my direction, all of our hands fumbling for the Velcro pocket on my thigh. I’d completely forgotten about an alarm I’d set on my iPhone days before.

Mandatory in situations like this, I was so anxious to make it stop I became increasingly uncoordinated. I couldn’t get the phone out of my pants. I was mortified. Kangombe immediately stiffened and faced us, lifting his head to smell the air, his ears pointing sharply in our direction.

Kangombe, black rhino near Desert Rhino Camp, Namibia

An alert Kangombe looks in our direction after my iPhone alarm goes off- I felt like such an idiot!

I could sense the rangers’ angst. Would this be a problem or just a silly moment we’d laugh about later?

To be clear, the biggest worry was that Kangombe would flee and my sighting would come to an end. That being said, black rhinos are known for charging humans when feeling threatened and it wouldn’t do for a guest to get hurt. It’s bad for business. Even if it was her own damn fault.

Kangombe, a black rhino near Desert Rhino Camp, Namibia

Kangombe heads across the rocky plain along the Skeleton Coast of Namibia

Thankfully, once I managed to turn off the alarm Kangombe relaxed and began chewing on the dainty piece of shrubbery that dangled from his mouth. I, however, was racked with humiliation and cycled through a range of silent “I’m sorry” faces that was comical at best. I told myself I couldn’t be the worst guest they’ve ever had. At least that’s what I hoped.

I photographed Kangombe for a while longer until he disappeared into a line of bushes and the rangers signaled it was time to go.

As he faded into the distance, I wondered whether he’d live to die of old age.

 If you have any thoughts or questions, I would love to hear from you in the comments section below.

 


Check Out Exploring Namibia’s Skeleton Coast: Desert Rhino Camp

IMAGE DESCRIPTION

20 replies »

  1. This was a great read with fabulous images Susan! My girlfriend and I visited Namibia last year and we also did the black rhino tracking, though at a different location (Grootberg Conservancy) but is was just as exhilarating as your encounter. While on foot we only just missed a mother with her calf that the trackers had found but on the way back to the 4×4 the trackers found another female and we enjoyed her company for about 15 minutes. It was so special…

    Looking forward to reading more about your adventures!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hi Michael! Thank you for checking out the blog. I’m so glad you liked the piece. Your adventure sounds amazing. We are so blessed that we were able to experience something so special.

      Like

Please feel free to comment, contribute or ask questions. I would love to hear from you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s