Zambezi Boat Ride

The day before Mum left to go back home we went on a boat ride with Dick Sharp, who owns the Zambezi Fish Farm where Jem and Glenn lived.  I was really up for it… until I saw the boat.  I had imagined a shiny new speedboat but in actual fact it was a rusty looking, tiny thing that had the appearance that it might fall apart if we got in.  The thought of sinking in the Zambezi with all the crocodiles and hippos was not a nice one.  Against our better judgment we climbed into the boat, Mum looking as nervous as I was.  The Zambezi is a huge river, I’ve never seen anything like it.  It’s by far not the biggest river in Africa but the width of it is incredible.  It doesn’t look like it’s running at all but apparently the currents are lethal.  In Katima the Zambezi separates Namibia from Zambia, so in theory you could border hop by swimming across the river; if you fancy braving the current, crocs and hippos that is.  Not to mention the Water Patrols that keep an eye on people trying to cross the river to enter Namibia illegally.  Quite often in the evenings when we were at home we would hear gun shots; after asking what it was from, Glenn informed me that it would be the Water Patrol shooting people trying to cross the river.  It seems they work on a shoot first and ask questions later basis.

After heading towards the rapids at the border between Namibia and Zambia, we stopped for a few minutes just before them so that Dick should throw a line or two in to see if he had any luck with the fish.  My nerves about sinking had diminished a bit so I got my camera out and started taking some photos.  Mum was looking a bit happier by then too, especially as Dick had brought along a cool box filled with beer so we were both starting to relax more and enjoy the ride.  It really is beautiful from out on the river.  It’s so quiet aside from the sound of the rushing water (and the boat obviously).  The fishing rods in the holders on the boat make an eerie whistling noise as the wind rushes past the line, it’s strangely hypnotizing.  When Dick had given up on the fishing he turned the boat around and told us we would go in search of some crocs.  Although eager to see some in the wild, the thought of seeing a full size one up close and personal was a bit nerve racking.  As we headed down the river Dick slowed the boat down and pointed at a rock a few meters away.  Looking closely we could see two beady eyes staying perfectly still and peering at us.  Crocs are very well camouflaged; they keep everything underwater except their eyes and snout so you have a job to spot them.  This one was a baby, which turned out to be a good thing as we got really close to it and managed to get the underside of the boat stuck on a rock.  I was looking round nervously wondering when we’d make a move as I didn’t really like the idea of being attacked by even a baby croc, but Dick didn’t seem fussed and turned the engine off so that we could take some photos of it.  It didn’t move a muscle the whole time we were there.

Dick told us about how some people (him included) catch crocs for a bit of fun.  They can close their jaws on you with the equivalent force of a tonne, but they have hardly any strength to open their mouths so if you place your hands around their snout they can’t hurt you.  It is said that if you were to sellotape their snout shut they wouldn’t be able to break the tape.  I definitely won’t be testing this theory out though.  The hunters judge the size of the crocs by how far apart their eyes are.  Dick told us that one time one of his friends spotted one that he thought was a baby and decided to go for it.  It was only when he had pounced onto it that he realized it was a fully grown adult; it must have been at an angle to him as the eyes had looked quite close together.  There was nothing he could do but hang onto it until someone else came to help him.  If you ask me they’re insane.

After Dick finally managed to push us off from the rocks, we headed to a huge sand dune in the middle of the river.  It is a bit like an island but made completely of sand.  He told us that quite often people camp here as it’s safe to do so; there aren’t any snakes or spiders etc as when the river rises every year the island disappears underwater.  Apparently the hippos and crocs aren’t included in deciding whether it is safe to camp somewhere.  We pulled the boat onto the sand a bit and got out.  The sand is so fine that is makes a loud squelching noise as you walk across it, it’s really bizarre.  After much persuasion from Dick, Mum and I paddled into the water for a photo.  We were really worried that we would be attacked by a croc but Dick explained that they won’t come that shallow as they would lose all of their cover.  It was a very strange experience to be stood in the middle of the Zambezi river, only knee deep in water.  Technically the island is Zambian, so officially we were illegally on Zambian land without having to go through border control.

After a few more minutes cruising round in the boat and downing a few more beers, we decided to go in search of some hippos.  We passed a lot of people washing at the edge of the river.  The locals that live in the mud huts obviously don’t have water or electricity to their homes like we’re used to, so they tend to wash in the river.  I had asked Biggy (who I rode with every day) how they avoid getting attacked by crocs.  He explained that crocs will only go for the last one in the group, so when crossing a river you should throw rocks behind you so that it will think there are more people crossing.  This doesn’t sound like a very reliable theory to me.  I did ask him if he knew if many people had died from being attacked by crocs and his reply was ‘oh yes, but it’s the hippos that you want to watch out for’.  This didn’t fill me with a great deal of confidence as we went in search of them.  A lot of the locals go fishing in wooden canoes and it is not unusual for a hippo to swim underneath and capsize them.  They are very territorial and are also very aggressive.

After searching the water for quite a while, Dick suddenly slows down and points across the river to the other shore line.  After a few minutes of peering in that direction Mum and I notice some snouts sticking out of the water.  They look a lot like rocks, in fact all the photos I took of them just look like rocks.  As we approach them they start to snort so Dick explains that they are warning us to back off.  Mum and I look terrified by this point but Dick isn’t phased at all.  He tells us that they do not usually attack you without cause, so if you respect them they will leave you alone.  He moves the boat away a bit and says that as we’re backing away after their warning, we are showing them that we are not a threat.  There are 4 hippos in the group that are snorting at us and suddenly two more appear a bit closer.  These are obviously marking their territory as they start snorting at us even louder.  After a few minutes of watching, one of them does a huge yawn and we get to see the immense size of these amazing creatures.  They are absolutely unbelievable.  Quite often while I was riding we would see hippo footprints; they are massive.  They come out of the water at night and stroll around a bit then head back into the water in the daytime.  Much to the relief of Mum and I, eventually Dick decided to head on up the river a bit further.

After much waving at the naked black men washing in the river, watching the unusual birds that are loitering around and consuming far too many beers, the sun starts to set and we make our way back to the spot where the trailer is parked.  We take our time to enjoy the beauty of the sun setting over this incredible river, trying very hard not to hit any underwater rocks as the visibility is quite bad by this point.  At one point, Dick signals to the spot that we had sat still in the water for quite a time, where there are now 4 more hippos.  He exclaims that they are the ones we should be worried about, they were there the whole time and we didn’t even know it.  It’s the ones you don’t see that you should be afraid of.  I am glad he waited until the end of our ride to point this out.  It was an experience I will never forget, and a lovely way to spend the last evening with Mum before she headed back to the UK.