Day 11: Manieke Tracks a Black Rhino!

By Sanjayan

The clarity of a singular purpose eludes most of us in our daily lives. Instead, we multitask to distraction. 

For Manieke Ganaseb, the head tracker for Save the Rhino Trust’s elite Camel Patrol Team, all he does is one task — and he does it exceptionally well. He disdains ordinary work, and I have never seen him do much of anything to help with the camels, the camp or the research work.

Manieke came to work with Rudi Loutit (the CEO of Save the Rhino Trust) about 20 years ago. He learned his tracking skills from his father, a well known poacher who Rudi eventually employed as a community game guard when he worked for the park service.

He is by far the best tracker I have met. His usual place is far ahead of our ponderous group, bolt action rifle on his shoulder, walking just with his dog. He is forever disappearing over the horizon, waiting impatiently for us to close the gap, before moving on again.

A Grumpy Tracker

Lately, Manieke has been even less agreeable and communicative than his normally anti-social self. When Per, our photographer, tries to photograph him, he moves away uncooperatively. Mark, our writer, cannot get an interview.

You see, so far we have not found any rhinos, even though we are traveling through prime rhino country. The purpose of our trip is not to do a census of rhinos, but we certainly expect to see them and to document how far into the desert we find them.

We have run into rhino tracks, but each time Manieke looks at them, scuffs the earth with his boots and declares the tracks old — “two days” he says, “no good.” He is comparing the pattern and color of the earth his boots scuff up with the rhino tracks to get a sense of age. He is looking for fresh signs, and finds nothing.

Manieke and the other rhino trackers, who wear their uniforms with immense pride, are abashed at their apparent failure to track down a rhino.

Success! Manieke Spots a Rhino

Today, at noon, just as we stopped amongst some salvadore (mustard) bushes in a small anvil hot wash for lunch, we happened upon some tracks. The small leaf, trampled underfoot, was still moist, indicating recent passage. 

Despite the heat and blinding glare, Manieke and the other trackers fanned out. The rest of us, encumbered by a swift lunch of bread, sardines and potted meat, floundered in their wake. Like bloodhounds on the trail of a sweating convict, these guys tracked over hard country full of stones, sharp grass and small sandy washes. 

After a while, it became a matter of great faith for those of us still following. The signs got weaker, the trails tougher and we got hotter. But Manieke persisted. He was so far ahead that none of us could recall him or catch up. We prayed, not for him, but for our survival in the heat. 

Tracking for Six Kilometers in Intense Heat

Three hours after we began, Manieke finally held up his fist. He pointed to where a young male black rhino stood, like a boulder, framed against a euphorbia bush. Manieke had tracked him from six kilometers away.

We crouched, whispered, and marveled at the magic act shimmering in the heat before our eyes. Eventually though, as is often with humans, eagerness and excitement got the better of us. The rhino heard us, swung around, and in a few heart-stopping moments, he trotted over — ears fixed like radar antennae, horn held impressively high — to investigate. We beat a hasty retreat.

From a safe distance, the trackers crowded around, taking photos and filling out forms to help them identify and keep track of the rhino. There is a bonus involved for a successful sighting and they all wanted a part of it.

I looked around for Manieke and found him a few meters behind us. Holding a strip of newspaper from 11 days ago, and with a pinch of tobacco from a small tin, he rolled a cigarette and drew a deep, satisfying smoke. 

Later We Encounter… Lions!

It is hard to describe the feeling now, hours later, in the cool of our camp. Watching that rhino appear was like watching the greatest conjuring act on earth.

But there is more on our minds now.

At kai-as springs, where we are spending the night, Jeff Muntifering (a researcher with Round River and Save the Rhino Trust) and Richard Jeo put out infra-red triggered remote cameras. We have seen lion tracks and are hoping to get photo.

We capture a beautiful picture of a female lion coming to have a look. The picture is taken only about thirty minutes after we picked up water from the spring and deployed the cameras — around 6:30 pm. The lions are close to our camp.

Desert lions are making a big comeback. There are perhaps 130 animals now, and most females are with cubs. When I first came to Namibia almost ten years ago, it was impossibly hard to see lions in the desert. Now we have a sighting on almost every trip.

All through our journey, for the past 11 days, we have seen signs of lions — we've heard their roars and now see them before us. It is a clear indication that lions can make the big trek just as we can across this vast desert, drinking from the desert springs, feeding on Oryx, springbok and the occasional kudu.

Early this morning, around 8 a.m., we made contact with three adults and possibly two cubs. The sighting was brief and they spotted us before we saw them and moved off, over a hill, and out of sight. Still, it was a nice start. 

Tomorrow, we will leave the grasslands and enter the gravel plains that will mark the beginning of the end of our journey. 

Nature picture credits (top to bottom, left to right): Photo © Sanjayan/TNC (Manieke and his dog, Lenz); Photo © Sanjayan/TNC (Black rhino!); Photo © Sanjayan/TNC (Sanjayan and the camels trek across the gravel plains).