Game Ranger: Extracts from a Game Ranger's Notebook

By Rodney Henwood

This book should appeal to a wide range of readers, from those that have spent time working in the bush and can relate to these stories, to those still contemplating a career with wildlife. It should also appeal to the weekend and average armchair conservationist who has probably often dreamt of what it would have been like had he chosen to become a dedicated full time field officer. The book will also help give an insight into what goes on behind the scenes for those visiting a game park for their very first time. It has been written in an easy to read format, divided into individual wildlife adventures based from the authors early beginnings as a Game Ranger at a remote outpost in Northern Zululand to finally becoming Warden of Game Capture. Some of these adventures are funny and some more serious but never routine or mundane however they were always rewarding and gratifying.
Enjoy the read!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491875704

Rodney Henwood

This book should appeal to a wide range of readers, from those that have spent time working in the bush and can relate to these stories, to those still contemplating a career with wildlife. It should also appeal to the weekend and average armchair conservationist who has probably often dreamt of what it would have been like had he chosen to become a dedicated full time field officer. The book will also help give an insight into what goes on behind the scenes for those visiting a game park for their very first time. It has been written in an easy to read format, divided into individual wildlife adventures based from the author’s early beginnings as a Game Ranger at a remote outpost in Northern Zululand to finally becoming Warden of Game Capture. Some of these adventures are funny and some more serious but never routine or mundane however they were always rewarding and gratifying. Enjoy the read!

Book preview

© 2013 Rodney Henwood. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 8/28/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4918-7569-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-7568-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-7570-4 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Foreword

Author’s Note

Preface

PART 1

Mkuzi Game Reserve

Sooty Terns

Python

Porcupine

Charters Creek

Poaching

Caretaker

My Man Friday

Culling

A Problem Leopard

Another Leopard

Black Rhino

Mkuzi Wilderness Trails

Another Wilderness Trail

Hippo

Buffalo

Floods at Mkuzi

Jackal and Impala

Dung Beetles (Scarab Beetles)

Ndumu Game Reserve

Rhino by Sea

Wild Pets

Hippo in the Garden

Vegetable Garden

Umfolozi Wilderness Trails

Edgewood Trail

Sitting Watch

Lions on Trail

A Sinking Moment

Buffalo and Rhino on Trail

Early Christmas Dinner

Mango Flies

Malaria

Pepper Ticks

Wet Trip to Kosi Bay

Another trip to Kosi

Roadblock with the Police

Tampans (Soft Ticks)

Black Rhino Census

Funwayo Mlambo

A Ndumu Ranger

Unsung Heroes

PART 2

Hluhluwe Game Reserve

Escaped Lions

Lions at Ntabanana

Another Lion

Lion culling

Holiday Inn

Monthly Aerial Game Counts

Hippo in the Pine Plantation

The Lion That I Shot near Makamyisa

Game Guard Killed

Cadet Rangers

Celebrities

Ranger’s Notebook

Buffalo at the Vista Site

Another Tourist Problem

Locked out of the Gate

Wild Pets

Cheetah

Smelting Sites

Fence Line Patrols

Encounters with the Slithery Kind

Wild Dogs (The Painted Dog)

PART 3

Rhino Capture

Hippo Capture

Rhino to the Savuti in Botswana

Windmill

Subsequent Trips to Botswana with Rhino

Yet Another Botswana Delivery

Rhino to Zimbabwe

Elephant to Hluhluwe Game Reserve

Rhino to Kamanjab Namibia

Darting Giraffe in the Umfolozi Game Reserve

Part 4

Warden of Game Capture

Motto

Unusual Rhino Catches

Rhino near Port Elizabeth

Bull and Calf

Rhino for a Movie

Capture with Jet Jungle

Cow and Calf

Black Rhino on the Beach

Saving a Life

Thorn in My Eye

Helicopter Accident

Disappearing Motorbike

Black Rhino to the USA

Central Kalahari Game Reserve

Trip to Togo

Pietersberg Air Force Base

Is Extinction Forever?

Capture in the Cape for Dr Chris Barnard and Wilbur Smith

The A-team

Black Rhino in Ndumu Game Reserve

Lions to Hotazel

Animals to Paris

Female Cadet Rangers

Leopard in the Bomas

Darting Elands in the Drakensberg

The Vanishing Zebras

Capture of Zebras and Springboks

Capture in the Ivory Coast

Floods in Zululand

In Conclusion: The End of an Era

Finally

PART 5

Animals to Mainland China

Glossary

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Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I can remember, and remember more than I have seen.

(Benjamin Disraeli 1804–1881)

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Acknowledgments

To Marilyn & Mark Detwiller from M&M Computers for scanning and sizing the images for this book.

To Professor Leon Papenfus for his kind words in the Foreword.

To Nicole Naude & David Schild for their help with the final computer work.

To my wife Barbara for her help with the initial editing and for putting up with me for the long hours that I spent typing this manuscript with only two fingers.

Finally to all my friends and family who pestered and badgered me into putting these experiences down on paper so that they could be read and enjoyed in my absence. Without them this book may never have been written.

Foreword

Every young South African dreams of working in the great outdoors that Africa so abundantly offers: the magnificent sunrises heralded by the early bird choruses and the roar of a distant lion and the absolute quiet of the night broken only by the haunting sounds that nature presents.

Rodney Henwood was no exception. His formative years (spent in the Eastern Cape) awakened his desire to be out there.

Rodney’s days in the classroom at Dale College were agony. Algebra, Shakespeare, and English declensions didn’t stimulate him – to the continuous despair of his dedicated masters. The Natal Parks Board – that great custodian of wildlife and the environment in the province of Natal – provided the escape he was searching for. The call of the fish eagles, the whoop of the hyenas, and the trumpet of the elephants brought his dreams to life. This was life: excitement, challenges, hardships, dangers, and tragedies.

Rodney has collated the great experiences of his career for all of us to read. We thank and salute you.

Leon Papenfus MSc (Agriculture)

Author’s Note

In this book, I have attempted to describe the incidents and adventures that I experienced during my twenty years as a field game ranger whilst working with the Natal Parks Board in Zululand, South Africa. I have not written an autobiography; rather, I have related various escapades and incidents – some funny and some more serious – that happened to me over those years.

Basically, this book is divided into five main parts:

Part 1 covers my decision to become a ranger. It is an account of my first five years living in the bush – miles from any other human being. I was without a telephone, commercial radio station, or television. I was stationed at the Nsumu Outpost as a section ranger (and later as a senior section ranger) in the Mkuzi Game Reserve with my wife, Barbara, and our two children, Sharon and Kevin.

Part 2 outlines my time spent at the Seme Outpost as a senior section ranger and 2IC of the Hluhluwe Game Reserve.

Part 3 covers my post as a rhino capture officer based in Umfolozi Game Reserve. There, I spent three years catching almost one thousand white rhino and about forty black rhino. Perfecting the art of rhino capture was an ongoing project.

Part 4 describes my promotion to warden in charge of game capture (in Hluhluwe Game Reserve at the game capture headquarters). This post required rhino and antelope capture, and it is where I spent the remaining ten years of my career with the NPB. It was the most enjoyable and rewarding part of my career.

Part 5 discusses the period after I left NPB, when I was asked to carry a large shipment by air to China.

Preface

How It All Began

While I was growing up, I was brought into contact with nature via my grandfather, Major Arthur Barrett. He had retired, and he owned a small farm (about 500 ha) in the Mount Coke district of the Eastern Cape. Every school holiday, since I was six or seven years old, and whilst I was going to Dale College in King Williams Town, was spent on the farm. He had a few cows, a few pigs, poultry for eggs, and a large vegetable garden. But his main interest was taking long walks on his farm, which was largely undisturbed virgin veld. He had a good relationship with his neighbours who seldom lived on their farms but asked him to keep an eye on their places when they were gone. This increased the area of indigenous virgin bush that he was able to patrol considerably. He was a very quiet, interesting man who enjoyed the outdoors and the freedom that it gave him. He was a superb horseman and an excellent shot, but above all, he was a keen conservationist. He learnt those values from the many years he spent as a young man in the bush.

As a young man, he was an officer with the Cape Mounted Rifles, and he often told me the story of the time he was stationed at a small outpost near Punzana (about 50 km south-west of East London). There, his duties included riding on horseback to the farms in his area and visiting the farmers to see whether there were any problems. They would then sign his book and offer him a meal or a bed for the night before leaving him to continue his patrol of the next farm. On one such occasion, he arrived back after a few days away from his base to find an official looking letter waiting for him. It read: Proceed with all haste to Umzimkulu town. Umzimkulu was a small village on the banks of the Umzimkulu River some 650 km north-east of Punzana. Evidently, there had been an outbreak of East Coast Fever among the cattle, and they needed to stop it from spreading southwards. He started off with his horse and a packhorse – there were no roads or bridges in those days except wagon tracks. The trip took him nearly a month. He had to shoot his prey, skin it, and cook it. He told me that, now and again, he came across a Xhosa kraal, and he shared his meal with them. The frequency with which one encounters a Xhosa kraal has changed considerably since those days: anyone can see who recently travelled through the Transkei. It is now almost impossible to lose sight of a kraal because one can stand almost anywhere and see numerous kraals in all directions.

Apparently, there were two officers assigned to that post, and they were ordered to patrol from the Umzimkulu village to the coast (a distance of about 80 km) and drive back through the river any cattle that had wandered through. One officer spent the night on the beach at the mouth of the river whilst the other enjoyed a soft bed in the village of Umzimkulu – and the local pub. They would set off from opposite ends and camp together at the halfway mark for the night. The following day, they went on with the patrol, and then the other officer got the chance to experience a comfortable bed, a nice bath, and an open pub. The other spent the night sleeping in the sand dunes near the beach.

***

Another interesting story was when he was a prisoner of war in German South West Africa (Namibia) during the First World War. The Germans realised his hunting abilities and issued him a hunting rifle with ammunition. His duties were to go out almost every other day to hunt for meat to feed the entire POW camp.

These stories (and others) – together with a grandfather who was able to impart his bushcraft and knowledge of nature in a comprehensible way – stayed with me as I grew up. The stories instilled in me a deep love for the bush and conservation in general. Later in life, when I had a driver’s licence, he made me drive him up to the Kruger National Park and other parks in South Africa on a regular basis. The two of us would spend hours on end at an isolated waterhole, just sitting, watching, and enjoying the passing parade of bird life and animals. He particularly enjoyed the larger animals not found on his farm back at home, but he appreciated all wildlife.

My father was a mechanical engineer, and he insisted that I serve a five-year apprenticeship as a fitter and turner before breaking out to do whatever I wanted to do. His philosophy was that he would put me in a far better position than any academic qualification if I were stationed at an isolated outpost far from any support team. He encouraged me to learn to repair vehicles and use water pumps, windmills, lighting plants, and other devices. He wanted me to become completely self-sufficient.

He may have been right, but nobody told me that a person with a conservation diploma stood a far better chance of getting into a ranging position than a person with a fitter and turner certificate, and that choice cost me several years before I got the opportunity to join the Natal Parks Board.

I spent the next few years applying to get into the NPB. Finally, they offered me a section ranger post some 20 km from civilisation on the south-eastern corner of the Mkuzi Game Reserve at a place called Nsumu Pan.

Part 1

Mkuzi Game Reserve

I started work at the Nsumu Outpost in the Mkuzi Game Reserve on 1 July 1972. The Mkuzi Game Reserve covers an area of around 34,644 ha, and it was established on 15 February 1912. It is a relatively dry reserve situated in Northern Zululand, approximately 350 km north of Durban. It has an abundance of bird life (with some 420 species having been recorded). The main animal species there are as follows: impala, nyala, giraffe, zebras, kudu, white rhino and black rhino. The only predator species on the reserve were as follows: leopard, hyena, and jackal. Hippopotamuses were only temporary visitors during the rainy seasons because there was no permanent surface water in the entire reserve. No elephants, buffalo, or lions were living in the reserve. Mkuzi GR had two section rangers living in outposts located at Mtsopi (near the entrance gate) and Nsumu (in the far south-east of the reserve). The senior ranger lived at the main camp, called Mantumu.

The Nsumu Outpost, where I was stationed, had no electricity or telephone, so communication with the outside world was extremely difficult. In emergencies, the message had to be relayed by radio through a third person. There was also no FM radio reception because we were out of range of the nearest radio antenna. At that time, TV only existed in the cities, and it took several years before we eventually received any sort of reception. To try to keep abreast of happenings in and out of the country, I decided to take out a subscription with a weekly newspaper. Unfortunately, I received each edition about two weeks late. We found that, over the months and years that we were stationed there, we lost all interest in current affairs and sport. We sometimes met a visitor who mentioned something important that had happened in the past few weeks or months, but it was news to us. A few months later, when my daughter, Sharon, started school, Barbara (my wife) purchased the odd newspaper on Mondays or Fridays, but I soon found that there was no continuity in the news articles, so the paper was of little interest to me. Mkuzi GR became my world, and what happened outside the boundaries didn’t seem terribly fascinating.

My first duty upon arriving at Nsumu Outpost was to repair the borehole water pump because the lister diesel engine would not start. The water in the reservoir for the twelve horses, five game guards, two labourers, and our house was running very low. There was a two-way radio in the house, but the battery was flat because the petrol generator was non-operational. There was a radio in the old Series 2 Land Rover that I was issued, but every time the radio sounded, there would be a mad dash out the door, down the foot path, and out to where the vehicle was parked to see whether they were calling me or not. Fortunately, we were able to use gas for cooking and hot water. The house was wired for electric lights, but with a non-operating generator, we had to resort to candles and gaslights. The gaslights gave off good light, but they were very hot in the summer. And of course, insects loved to destroy the delicate gas mantles.

Slowly, I was able to turn things around by repairing the water pump. That solved the water problem, and we were able to fill the reservoir. A few weeks later, after getting spare parts, I was able to get the generator plant started. At that point, we were able to charge the radio batteries. And best of all, we had lights at night. There was no cut-off switch in the house, and we had to resort to walking up to the generator (which was about 50 m away from the house due to the noise it put out). Eventually, I learnt to put the right amount of fuel into the tank so that it would run out of fuel at a given time. That saved me a walk before going to bed. Every now and again, my fuel measurement wasn’t that accurate, though, and the engine would run on well after we were asleep. Or worst of all, it would go off before we were ready and catch us unawares in the bath or half a page before the end of a book. When the generator eventually cut out, life was completely silent – apart from the sounds of the bush. The next homestead was probably more than 10 km away, outside the park.

Today, I wonder whether my father was partially correct with his philosophy that learning to use my hands first was far more beneficial than starting off in the outside world with some academic qualification.

Becoming a field ranger in Mkuzi Game Reserve entailed a huge change of lifestyle. It was a challenge to go from working a five day week from seven to four o’clock as a maintenance fitter and turner with occasional opportunities to walk around in the bush on the farm to living and working at an outpost in the bush full-time. As a maintenance fitter in a city, I went to work at regular times and usually came home at regular times. As a ranger, I was on call twenty-four hours per day. I was stationed at an outpost called Nsumu Pan, and I was responsible for the whole eastern section of the reserve. During the time I spent at Mkuzi, there were no lions, elephants, or buffalo, but there were very healthy black rhino, white rhino, impala, and nyala populations.

Schooling for our two children, Sharon and Kevin, posed a huge problem because we were about 60 km from the nearest school in Mkuzi village, and the school didn’t have a boarding house. We would have had to go in and out every day, which would be really difficult on a game ranger’s salary. Plus, it would be hard on our private vehicle because there were no tarred roads. We decided to make the children weekly boarders at the Mtubatuba Junior School, which was a drive of some 50 km through the reserve and back to the main road – and then 120 km down the main road, which was still mostly dirt with bracket bridges over the small rivers. My wife still had to get up at half past four o’clock in the morning on Mondays and get the kids dressed for school. After that, she put them in the car and left. The kids went back to sleep on the back seat and woke up once they had arrived at school two hours later. On Fridays, she had to fetch them again and arrived home late in the afternoon.

The road from Mkuzi GR was mostly dirt, and only the last few kilometres before the village of Hluhluwe were tarred. There were no road bridges in those days, and on the main road, they resorted to using the rail bridges (known as bracket bridges). The bridge was a steel frame bolted to the side of the rail bridge, and it had a plank surface to drive on. Crossing those bridges could be hazardous because the planks often came loose or broke, leaving a gaping hole where a wheel could easily fall through.

On Barbara’s first trip back from Mtubatuba with the children, she was delayed at the school and arrived at the reserve after dark. I had radioed the gate and knew that she had come into the reserve, so I expected to see her in about an hour. It took her almost two hours! She wasn’t completely au fait with the road system yet, and I figured she ran into some trouble, hit an animal, or took a wrong turn on the way back. I was getting a little worried and decided to drive back along the road to see whether I could find her. I drove the 35 km back to the main gate without seeing any sign of them. Because our private car’s tyres had a distinctive pattern and the reserve had sandy roads, I was able to stop at each intersection to see which way she had turned. I soon found where she had gone wrong, and although she had made a wrong turn, the road she was on would eventually bring her back to the outpost because it was one big loop. I followed the tyre tracks to see whether she made any other wrong turns, but when I eventually arrived home some time later, I found that she had arrived home and supper was well on the way.

The Nsumu Outpost was situated only about 2 km away from the Mkuzi River, which was the reserve boundary. It was usually dry for at least six months out of the year. On the other side of the river was a Zulu homeland, and on Saturday nights, the drums would start up and go on until the early hours of the morning. This always conjured up the feeling of being in true Africa. I was reminded of the movie, King Solomon’s Mines.

***

Sooty Terns

One morning, we woke up as it was getting light to a strange noise outside. We went outside to find the house, the lawn, the other buildings, and every tree full of birds. We later identified them: sooty terns. These coastal sea birds, for some unknown reason, had descended upon our house by the hundreds – even though we were more than 30 km away from the coast. I have no idea why they were there or why they had come, but the birds seemed exhausted and in no hurry to take off again. Perhaps they had endured a storm at sea or been caught up in some strange type of vortex that had deposited them onto and around our house. The birds spent two whole days sitting around – in spite of all my efforts to entice them back into the air again. I was reminded of The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock. On the third day, I grabbed the nearest bird and told him to go home whilst throwing him up into the air. To my surprise, he stayed airborne. Eventually, some of the others started taking notice, and with a little help and encouragement from us, they all started taking off. It wasn’t long before they were all up in the air and swirling about before heading off in the direction of the sea. There were a few that stayed behind, but they were the sick, lame, and lazy. A few died, and after about a week, the last tern either took off or fell off its perch. It was a most unusual phenomenon … one that I could not explain.

***

Python

One day, Kevin (who was probably only three or four years old at the time) was playing on the front veranda. He was running backwards and forwards and jumping over something. I strolled across to see what he was doing and discovered that he was jumping over an African python, which was about 5 metres long and as thick as my upper leg. It was lying stretched out along the length of the veranda and just watching Kevin’s movements. I snatched him away and called some game guards to help me move it out of the yard and back into the bush where it would be far more at home. Pythons are non-poisonous snakes, and they kill their prey by constricting around it and stunning it by thumping it on the head with its hardened nose. Despite the lack of poison, they can inflict a terrible bite with their razor-sharp teeth. They swallow their prey whole by unhinging their jaws. Once the swallowing starts, it is very difficult to reverse because their teeth face backwards.

On a foot patrol, I once saw a python that was in the process of swallowing a young impala lamb – only a little smaller than Kevin at that age. The impala had obviously been stunned because it was lying completely still. The head and shoulders had already disappeared into the snake. We sat and watched the process for a while, before continuing with our patrol, but I was interested to see what happened and returned to the scene two or three hours later. We found the snake a short distance away, lying completely still in the shade of a tree. The impala was just a bump halfway down the snake’s body.

***

On the subject of snakes, Nsumu Pan seemed to be very well endowed in the snakes department. We had snakes of all shapes and sizes visiting us on a regular basis, and we were always on the lookout for poisonous snakes around the house because of the children.

On one occasion, we had some overseas visitors from England who had come around for a cup of tea. Everyone was sitting in the lounge when the subject of snakes came up. They all agreed that they could never live in a place that had so many poisonous snakes. I set about trying to put their minds at rest by saying that it was not often that we came across poisonous snakes around the house – most of the snakes were harmless. Just then, Kevin said, Dad, there is a snake. We looked up, and sure enough, there was a large spitting cobra that had come in through the open front door. It was heading across the carpet towards the nearest lounge chair (where our visitors were sitting). There was a hasty scramble, and everyone climbed on top of their chairs and made all sorts of frightened remarks. I dispatched the snake – we did not like poisonous snakes lurking around the house where the children played. Our overseas guests spent the next hour or so filming it from every conceivable angle to take back as proof of what they had witnessed.

Spitting cobras are very poisonous, front-fanged snakes that have the ability to spit accurately at a distance of about 2.5 metres. The snake usually aims at the eyes, and if some of the poison enters the eye, it is excruciatingly painful. Plus, the enemy is temporarily blinded, giving the snake time to escape. So when dealing with this type of snake, it is always good practice to wear goggles or some type of eye protection to prevent poison from getting into the eyes.

***

Porcupine

One evening, we were sitting in the lounge and listening to the radio (we didn’t have television service at that post). We heard a strange rattling noise at the front door. I opened the door and saw a porcupine on the front mat. I had never seen a porcupine rattle its quills before. When they are agitated or feel vulnerable in any way, they put their backs towards the danger and rattle their quills. We did not seem to be his major concern, though – he was more worried about something out in the dark. I shone the torch around, but I could not see what had forced him onto our veranda. The whole family watched him for a while and then left him to get on with his life. Before going to bed, I had another look out the front door and noticed that our visitor had left.

It is a misconception that porcupines can shoot out their quills. However, if a predator attacks the porcupine, the porcupine always keeps its back to the danger because its quills face backwards. At that point, it jumps backwards into the attacker, leaving its sharp quills in the attacker. If the attacker cannot remove the quills soon, they will fester and cause major discomfort (especially if they are in the mouth or face area).

***

Charters Creek

I spent an amusing and somewhat scary day at Charters Creek after having only spent three or four months at Mkuzi GR. Charters Creek is situated about 13 km east of the Nyalazi River Halt and about 30 km south of the Hluhluwe village on the western shores of the very large Lake St Lucia. The lake has an extremely healthy population of hippopotamuses, and Nile crocodiles are present in the thousands.

I was called into Warden Boy Hancock’s office one day and asked when I had last taken a day off. I replied that I had not taken any days off since starting work as a ranger. He said he needed someone to collect a jet boat from Charters Creek that was urgently needed for a turtle survey up at Kosi Bay. He wanted to know whether I would like to go down and pick it up. Boy Hancock suggested that I take Barbara and our two children for a day’s outing in my official vehicle. My official vehicle was an old Series 2 Land Rover that was well past its sell by date but was still going strong. The vehicle was in great shape given the fact that it had travelled many bush miles and seldom (if ever) seen a tarred road. Boy Hancock said that he would phone Senior Ranger Nick Raubenheimer and arrange for the boat to be ready and well tied down on a boat trailer because the road back was all dirt and very corrugated in places. He also asked Nick whether he would mind taking me and my family out on a boat to show us some of the lake.

We arrived at Charters Creek, and I met Nick and his wife,