Rhino trade - an open letter

Dear Mr Hume

My thoughts are neither intended criticism nor an inference of ill-intent. Your achievements confirm your commitment.

For clarity I have no association with commercial wildlife farming / ranching. I’m not a veterinarian, a scientist, government official, lobbyist, affiliated to a NGO or a member of any APU-unit. I’m also not involved in conservation unless of course you wish to include donations to various conservation bodies. 

I am, however, a South African, proudly so. Each sunrise still holds promise for a brighter future. My children understand this too. To pay for this privilege I trade, globally. I know stock-markets, trading floors and exchange regulations as well as anybody, anywhere and I sleep with one eye open watchful for substantive change in commodities, equities, traded products, derivatives, currencies and debt. This is my world.

We agree that rhinoceros are being poached for their horns; composed mostly of keratin, the same protein in our hair and fingernails. In the past western society believed, erroneously as it turns out, that demand for horn was ostensibly driven by the sexual desires of Asian men. During the same period Yemeni demand for dagger-handles, made of rhino-horn (hereinafter ‘horn’), considered a symbolic rite of passage, also contributed to global demand. Until very recently it was thought that demand for horn was primarily driven by Eastern medicinal requirements. ‘Horn’ is said to ‘cool the blood’ and break a fever. Notwithstanding, ‘TCM’ (Traditional Chinese Medicine) does, in fact, advocate an alternative. Modern demand-theory challenges the notion that ‘TCM’ demands are causal in the main. It’s now believed that ‘horn’ is symbolic of status for the elite. The ‘cure for cancer’ theory, emanating out of Vietnam, has also, largely, been discounted.

To clarify then; ‘horn’ is not an aphrodisiac. Yemeni demand for dagger-handles has all but disappeared and even though ‘horn’ has been used in ‘TCM’ in the past, today’s practitioners prescribe alternatives. Most agree that ‘horn’ does not cure cancer. Modern theory holds that ‘horn’ is considered symbolic of status. What’s clear is that demand for ‘horn’ is real.

Over the last century 90% of the world’s rhinoceros were killed / harvested, mostly for their horn. As a result of this decline, CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species), of which South Africa is a founding member, instituted a complete ban on all trade in rhinoceros products. For a time pressure on the wild herd was seemingly controlled. In South Africa the success was even better than most had hoped for. As a consequence and simplistically for our purposes here, CITES downgraded the White Rhinoceros to Appendix II which allowed for limited trade. South Africans are, if nothing else, tenacious in business. Specific animals, considered surplus at the time, were offered to the private sector and the local herd expanded.

Whilst South Africa enjoyed success the rest of Africa’s rhinoceros population continued to decline. Different theories account for this decline. Some say corruption, ease of access, leaky borders, less likelihood of getting caught etc. accounted for most. Nobody knows for sure. What’s clear, however, is that demand for ‘horn’ during that period was robust.

Back in South Africa, whilst rhinos were getting more costly to harvest illegally elsewhere because there were simply too few to harvest cost-effectively, our herd had expanded. Even though the harvest in the rest of Africa was patently illegal, the downgrading of our White Rhino herd to Appendix II legitimised the harvest of trophy rhino, subject to local permit approval, by sportsmen prepared to pay for the privilege. The illegal trade immediately focused on South Africa which had inadvertently offered the illegal trade some legitimacy, most claim unintentionally. Pseudo-hunts for pseudo-sportsmen were facilitated locally and rhinoceros were shot for horn to supply (illegally), what was becoming, an insatiable Eastern demand. The South African authorities, (belatedly), instituted a ban on these pseudo-hunts but the damage was done. The illegal trade had established local contact, formulated channels of transfer and entrenched local infrastructure. Illegal harvest or poaching of the South African herd had begun in earnest.

Demand for ‘horn’ is robust and supply is imperfect, bottle-necked through illegal channels.

Economic theory tells us that markets exist, mostly, to facilitate supply and demand. In early times we bartered one bundle of goods for another. The constituents or volume of the bundle determined the exchange. Today we establish a price at the point of exchange which the buyer pays in currency; usually the US dollar ($). Price in turn considers scarcity, real or perceived. In theory the more scarce the bundle of goods, the higher the price of exchange. The theory holds true in all markets, legal or otherwise, as long as demand is constant (or rising) and is not price sensitive.

On the ground the supply of ‘horn’ is constrained and wholly dependent on illegal harvesting or poaching. It’s safe to assume that demand is constant at the current price or prices would have fallen. The CITES ban has limited the supply of ‘horn’ to the end-user (currently illegal everywhere). The illegal trade facilitates the supply through a complex, convoluted maze of diverse and largely independent group of harvesters in the field. Infrastructural corruption up the chain facilitates the transfer of product through the distribution channels to the end-user.

This is where you come in. You say lift the CITES ban on rhinoceros trade. Legitimise the demand at the end-user. Eliminate the illegal supply chain. Establish a Central Selling Organisation mandated to control supply of approved product through legal channels and to approved distributors only who in turn supply the end-user markets. De-horn rhinoceros safely and without any ill effect on the animal and collapse prices by volume of supply. Funds raised from the legal sales would contribute to current conservation in any one of a number of ways either by bolstering fortress conservation (security) or for the purchase of land etc. Your point is well made but, dare I say it, flawed.

Allow me to clarify as best as I can. For ease of reference the points will be annotated.

1. Nobody detracts from the success of your herd. I certainly don’t. Even so, as the owner of South Africa’s largest privately owned herd you stand to benefit more than most from a resumption of trade. It’s a conflict of interest which I can’t, in good conscience, ignore.      Whilst the authorities deliberate perhaps you would consider recusing yourself from the discussion and withdrawing from the media?
2. It’s true that ‘horn’ can be harvested as and when the animal regenerates its horn and over the course of its life. It’s also true that the animal doesn’t have to be killed to do so. Notwithstanding, unless SANPARKS and or Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife intend dehorning their herd in the field, an unlikely occurrence you’ll agree, the only benefit to either would be the sale of surplus animals to private owners. To participate equitably these rhino would need to be sold at prices at or in excess of the current price of horn. A single animal yields approximately 6 kg of horn? At current prices of $30 000 - $50 000 per kilogram that equates to approximately R 1 500 000 to R 2 500 000 per animal or approximately 10 times the current price of live animals.
3. You've argued that an increase in supply should, by definition, drop the price of product to more ‘reasonable’ levels. That’s true if demand stays constant but it’s an assumption best left in the bin where it belongs. There is no irrefutable evidence that demand won’t increase, perhaps dramatically, if ever trade was legalised. A possible / probable shift outwards of the demand curve would leave prices unchanged or higher as new users enter the market.
4. The global regulatory environment is constantly in flux. The CSO concept, as a stand-alone entity, will soon become obsolete. A fairly common criticism of the CSO structure is its bias towards some form of complicity either in open forum or disguised by internal policies. In truth most operate as cartels, controlling both price and supply. Manipulation is simply endemic in such a structure. The same cartel-like complicity will manifest in the demand markets. Selling to ‘selected’ distributors has the same causal effect.
5. It does not follow that illegal syndicates will become redundant when trade is legalised. On the contrary the scope to ‘launder’ illegally harvested product through official channels becomes entrenched, particularly in a corrupt environment and or when large sums of money are involved. At the same time your cost of harvesting horn or your production costs are significantly higher than a price of a bullet plus one or two thousand dollars for the trigger-men.
6. You have said that illegal trade will be eradicated in a legal trade environment. I don’t see why. The infrastructural environment under the auspices of legal trade would, in all likelihood be no different from the current. The illegal networks are well established. Fortunately some commendable work has been done by the authorities to break down these structures but they still exist and will continue to exist until they don’t and certainly for reasons other than a resumption in trade.
7. The most blatant flaws in your argument I’ve left to last and they detract, negate even, from the rest of your argument.
8. Cattle farming has little to do with conservation. Farming lions for the ‘legal trade’ is, by anybody’s definition, not conservation. The same applies to the farming of chickens or pigs or sheep or in this case rhinoceros. Farming rhinoceros to shave their horns is as far removed from conservation as is farming crocodiles for their belly skins. Yes they’re not domesticated but they’re hardly free-roaming ‘wild’ animals either. Your herd is tame, supplementary-fed and controlled in relatively small paddocks. Mauricedale is obviously a well-run farming operation.
9. Now, if you were to publicly distinguish your herd from the free-roaming herd and openly commoditise your rhinoceros then your herd becomes a product; like eggs or bacon. Yes it’s still an illegal commodity but your exhortations in the public domain to reopen trade would be inscrutable. Your intentions are made clearer, are based on sound business principles and are more readily understood in the public eye. However, masking intent by including conservation benefits and the project- integration of the local community in the same dialogue is patent nonsense; although unintended perhaps.
10. In passing I am confident that the authorities in control of the valuable stockpile of rhinoceros horn will remain steadfast in their application thus avoiding any potential conflicts of interest. These same officials hold the elective right to lobby CITES for a renewal of trade.

Let’s forget your farming-model for the moment and speak plainly. In truth the solution to poaching lies not in your pocket however honorable the idea might sound. The solution is multi-faceted, complex and requires exceptional fortitude and administrative will. Each facet is critically dependent on the rest or the idea fails.

Here's what I think - 

Step 1 – Strict application of the CITES ban with full international cooperation inclusive of enforcement, administration and legislative cohesion across borders.

Step 2 – radically improve security in the field. By way of example the Kruger National Park enjoys 2 000 000 plus visitors each year. A small ‘poaching-levy’ of say R 100 pp paid at the gate equates to R 200 000 000...

Step 3 – Vigorous domestic law enforcement; judicial expediency and infrastructural scrutiny.

Step 4 – Official transgressions in the Administration related to the trade, either at provincial or national level, however minor, intentional or negligent, punishable by immediate dismissal and or criminal prosecution.

Step 5 – Significant improvements in channels of communication / education in the demand markets; eliminate the end-user and negate demand.

Step 6* – See Step 1

In closing let me say this. Whilst I can sympathise with your predicament, your appeal ‘on behalf of all rhinos, is patently absurd. Your intentions are justified in your own capacity only. There is simply too much at stake to risk financial reward for a small minority without a thorough interrogation of the extent of the demand market.

From Monday to Friday I trade the commodity markets. I would hate to see our lumbering grey quoted by the pound on CBOT. I like him where he is. He’s not much but he’s ours and he’s not for sale.

Mall-in-the-mirror - another perspective

Carry a pair of binoculars, on an early morning walk, out in the countryside & most everybody else finds you eccentric-enough to pity.

As an outdoorsman [sans the khaki, wide-brimmed hats & unkempt hair, just in case you were wondering.] I've been the subject of derisive curiosity often enough to know what simple-folk think we haven't learnt. We're considered peculiar; touched by too many suns on those hat-less days when we felt brave-enough to brush our hair. So I decided to turn the tables and headed-off to the local mall to do some observing of my own.

At 08h55 product-branded shop-attendants shuffled up to their respective store-fronts & spent a nervous few minutes unlocking an array of padlocks & deadlocks.  It must be a jungle out there... Huddled nearby giggled a gaggle of early-bird [can't help myself] consumers in anticipation of 'the opening' - & the start of their compulsive day.

Meanwhile my café au lait steamed within easy reach, untouched. The depth of the triviality was fascinating. Saddened by the ambient air and the passage of time, the once-delicate four-leaf-clover, artfully decorated atop the coffee-foam, faded-away, largely unnoticed. Try as I might the au lait smelled of coffee, mostly. Nearby the quiet hum of the climate-control-apparatus belied the day's natural warmth; a modern, mid-morning extravagance. Alongside, at a table for six, two red-eyed, middle-aged teenagers squinted under the burning neon; dragged too early from their faux goose-down duvets. Their straightened hair fizzed - an electrified, sizzling shock of powder-blue, shocking-pink and violet-mauve. Could be a sterile shout for help, in a stereotyped world, where 'outrageous' is merely a craving for conformity?

On my left a family of four slaved under the addiction of their phones; each quietly absorbed in the posted breakfast quips of acquaintances they've never met. Hardly a word crossed from one end of the table to the other; in joy or rebuke. Incorrigible-daughter-the-youngest's left clavicle featured a summer swallow - 'Freedom' the caption; a bold tattoo - perhaps not everybody's cup of Earl Grey but an impressive, 10-year old's two-dimensional shot at fast-tracked adulthood nevertheless. Will her parents notice  her absence after she jets outward-bound & into the arms of her virtual friend well-short of her 15th birthday?

Close-by a grey-beard slumped unmoving in quiet contemplation of the passing skirts, fresh-faced and unsullied by time's passage. His wife of 30 summers long-forgotten, rigidly straight & hard-faced, a consequence of the surgeon's knife, recognised her husband's lust and smiled less than she should even if she could. His money the Armani-font-of-youth & as she'd guessed early-on, the daily tonic to keep black-dog's desperation at the door. If patience is a virtue; virtue is a grace. Grace isn't the aging girl with Botox in her face..

Across the marbled-way acolytes of retail-therapy buzzed from store to store; emerging triumphant & laden in lifestyle goods - branded badges of honour in a sea of human mediocrity. It's just another shallow cry for help, in a superficial world, where 'accumulation' is an expense-driven craving for conformity.


Meanwhile time's urban race had boredom leading by a nose. The Suunto's rubberized hand confirmed 9:15. In easy reach the coffee had cooled & within the gilded, stilted walls so too my ardour for the peculiar. Standing to leave my 'bins' swung out from under the cloth of Egyptian-cotton and stirred the cup & saucer - not quite an imperceptible click; the clang a mall-distraction almost to the person. The family, the grey-beard, the middle-aged teens and the passageway of acolytes & retail-serfs stopped, stared... I left.

   

#Wild @ #heart.

An orange hue builds on dawn's horizon & commences battle with the reflection on the cool sands behind me. It's a warm glow; an elixir - another day. The promise holds the glint as I find myself contemplating life's finer things; a prioritized, orderly list of things - good things mostly. From this singing dune of sands is the quiet perspective we need to recharge, refocus and reassign the trivialities that are the humdrum of civilised life usually lost in modern convenience. Too many walk their chosen paths with their eyes wide shut. Finding this tonic of renewal is a transfusion of energy; a vitals-yoga and the key to immortality, not of body, always fleeting at best, but of spirit and character.

Travel-widely & you'll know that beauty is in the eye of the foot-soldier. You'll also know your own paradise. I find my own solace in places wild; the unspoiled, natural easels untarnished by the human brush. Quiet streams; a roaring sea or the echo-cliffs are a shared splash of energy & they're just perfect, of course. Even so, if more is in fact more, then even the streams, seas and cliffs are best super-sized from a point of elevation. Given that natural flight is a convenience denied to most, I find lift from atop the desert dunes or from the hallowed crags of the highest mountains or even in the boughs of the loftiest trees in our coastal forests. Yes I'm an air junkie - desperate for that precious spike of purity only height provides. From there a vantage / the box-seat and a fresh perspective. Down below the casual trials & tribulations that cling to the subconscious, are summarily reduced to the minutia of life's grand scheme.

One of many local points of elevation is found along the coastal dunes of South Africa's Elephant Coast. Boarded by the Indian Ocean on the North Eastern South African seaboard and by the inland coastal forests of the iSimangaliso Wetland Park, a world-heritage site, the Elephant Coast is undeniably South Africa's best-kept secret. Here solitude is measured in hundreds & by 100s I mean kilometers, not in cash or people.

From the highest dunes the sea seems unusually boisterous, ragged even. Waves find an auditory purchase, on an untamed shore, echoing in repeated loop, against the cliffs standing sentinel not too far behind. Sea-foam flings itself exhausted, spent & light-headed, on the aerated sand; too beaten to care much. What was once a frothy fervour is, at last, a listless, wind-driven drunken stagger. Out at the break cetaceans break the reverie; a shared joy in breached display perhaps? Coral, bleached in the tropical eons, peers shore-wards, sightless / lifeless - careless of the shipping lane & harbinger of life's splendour under waters hidden from casual observation. The imagination knows no limits...

Travel to & from St Lucia, iSimangaliso's only node of civilisation, is not much more than a short transfer north of Durban, Kwazulu Natal's capital city. Durban itself is an easy hour or two's flight from Johannesburg & Cape Town respectively. Travelers / life's-pilgrims are encouraged to wear sunscreen. This is tropical country and the African sun is merciless on the uninitiated. Visit the internationally acclaimed iSimangaliso Wetland Park and experience Africa unspoiled or dive to shallow reefs considered some of the best, anywhere. The warm Indian Ocean is a shore-swimmer's delight as is the 5-6 ft surf a surfer's dream. For the nature-enthusiast the beaches are home to many nesting turtles. These are protected lands and an unforgettable experience on its own. 5-star lodges ply the sustainable luxury trade; none better than Thonga Beach Lodge. A plethora of accommodation in St Lucia or in nearby Sodwana [rustic] caters for most pockets. Culture, good food and hospitable people make South Africa's Elephant Coast simply world-class. You'll find your feet and what else is more important?

#Travel - South Africa Part 2 JOHANNESBURG

In Part 1 we looked at some general bits & pieces on South Africa and concluded that the current exchange-rate elevates South Africa to the top of the to-do pile & especially so for any prospective traveler worth his / her travel-boots. In this post we'll take a closer look at Johannesburg, South Africa's economic hub and mega-metropolis.

Johannesburg was originally founded in the open pits of the world's richest gold seam. The rigours & demands that characterise gold-fever eventually gave rise to other amenities which serviced the mines & the people who worked them. In time Johannesburg flourished. Since then the gold mines have passed into history, an obscurity denied by the remnants of this once-thriving industry currently dotting the skyline. Gold Reef City, a local amusement park, facilitates underground tours into a pseudo-working mine. It's not for the faint of heart or for the claustrophobic but well worth the admission fee.

The Black Madonna

Acknowledged as the epicentre of the political struggle, Johannesburg was brought to the world's attention during the Soweto Uprisings of 1976. SOWETO, an English syllabic abbreviation for the South Western Township, is now incorporated into Johannesburg but was formerly a demographically-separate municipality bordering the gold-mining belt; cheap-accommodation for the thousands of African migrants working the mines. In 1976 students, protesting against being taught in Afrikaans, rather than in English, were fired on by police. 21 people died on that first day including Hector Pieterson who was tragically immortalised in a press photograph. Economic & cultural isolation was internationally proposed, as a result, and sanctioned a short-time later. Those pressures later culminated in the dismantling of apartheid in 1994, an event that reverberated around the world & recognised South Africa for the conciliatory nature of her peoples.

Regina Mundi - heart of the anti-apartheid movement

Today's cultural tours to Soweto celebrate the region's political history by acknowledging its people; a people thrust into close-proximity; press-ganged from the corners of Africa, mostly on the false promise of a disenfranchised pot-of-gold. Demographics, language, architecture, cuisine and an eclectic nightlife reflect this cultural kaleidoscope. The experience is both unique and humbling. Visitors are encouraged to actively participate in one of the many local social-upliftment schemes. The work is necessary; the experience unforgettable. Other highlights include a visit to the Regina Mundi Church, host of many illegal meetings of the then struggle hierarchy. The scars of battle pock the church to this day. Vilakazi Street, Soweto's most famous thoroughfare and originally home to two of Africa's favourite sons, the Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu and the late Nelson Mandela, offers world-class cuisine & and an unmatched nightlife. Paradoxically Soweto is unheralded, in many ways, for its contribution to South Africa's modern society. Tales of bravery, empathy and shoe-string ingenuity, across the colour spectrum, are mostly forgotten or not afforded a more deserving prominence, particularly by visiting members of the international community who are, more often than not, commercial victims of a weak itinerary.

Nambitha on Vilakazi st - a must-visit

In central & northern Johannesburg the economic consequences of the historical divide are made obvious in the structural development of the city itself. Architectural history is a reflection of its colonial past. Informal settlements cater for the very poor and attract an influx of politically displaced migrants; particularly from neighbouring Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe boasts the highest level of literacy in Africa and an unmatched work-ethic. As a consequence Zimbabwean immigrants are often preferred by employers recruiting for the formal sector; a fact not lost on the local, unemployed community. These settlements, as a result, remain a hotbed of ethnic discontent and are the source of many, often violent, service-delivery protests.

Elsewhere modern architecture shapes the skyline; boasts a 1st-world infrastructure and provides a foil of luxury against the socio-economic conundrum plaguing South Africa generally. Class-leading hospitality outlets, a broad spectrum of technologies & modern retail amenities are unapologetic & super-luxurious where applicable. Popular tourist hot-spots include Sandton City | Rosebank Mall | Hyde-Park Corner | Melrose Arch; a plethora of upmarket casinos, theatres and a smorgasbord of world-leading hotels and restaurants. Local culture, upmarket-cuisine, live-performances and the fine arts are well-represented.

Serviced by O.R. Tambo International Airport, Johannesburg is traditionally considered a convenient gateway into the rest of South Africa or, more specifically, as a lay-over, outward-bound, to the wildlife sanctuaries, further east or to Cape Town, further south. The idea that Johannesburg lacks the charisma of our coastal cities is understated, wholly inaccurate and is, generally, a gross disservice to the intelligent traveler who finds solace / inspiration outside the ordinary. More in Part 3 as we journey east.

#Travel - South Africa Part 1

The Waterfront - Cape Town

As an English-descended South African I'm often asked by family & friends why Africa holds so much allure. The simple answer is this. It's home. Paradoxically 'home', for those of us who love to travel, is seemingly a contradiction in intent but it's also what you know; where you return to for some structural comfort and, I suppose, where you have an intimate understanding of the people who share the same geography.

Union Buildings - Pretoria

For those of you who don't know, South Africa has had its problems; largely premised on gazetted racial discrimination & by 'gazetted' I mean 'made legal'. Apartheid, meaning 'to keep apart', as this wasteful system became known to the world, eventually collapsed in 1994. Since then the peoples of this country have lived in relative freedom; even if the economically-unemancipated are still largely excluded from the mainstream economy. As a result the vast majority of people in this country still live under the yoke of poverty. A much smaller, ethnically-diverse, minority are wealthy in real terms & therein lies the TRAVEL-rub.

Alexander Bay - Northern Cape

South Africa is difficult to pin down as a travel destination for a number of reasons. One of the often-published facts, particularly in mainstream media, is our high-level of violent crime. That's true. South Africa does, in fact, have some of the worst levels of crime in the world. To understand why you only need to look at our history. Another contributing factor often cited is our porous border with our neighbouring countries. Some of these countries have been involved in civil war or mass-political-displacement. It's difficult to shake a violent past or to respect the rule of law when survival-experience dictates a different tactic, often violent. Although local law-enforcement has been iffy, there are however, signs that crime is at last being managed if not being brought under control. Other contributing factors include a wealth-divide & therein are premised many examples of survival none more topical than the rhino-poaching pandemic. On this point it's difficult to argue against the starving family in favour of the 5-star lodge charging 1st-world photographic rates but that's an ethical / moral debate for another time.

Cableway - Cape Town

That's the downside - what's the upside, if any? First-off South Africa is a landscaper's dream. It's almost rudely perfect. You'd be pushed to better South Africa's diversity anywhere else. I acknowledge some degree of bias & in that context of course. Then again I've walked the length & breadth of 90-odd countries too.. Secondly, South Africa offers an eclectic travel experience from the cultural remnants of its colonial past to the modern, more heady throb of Africa. Our music is mainstream; our dancing energized; our beaches unmatched; our night-life world-class; our hospitality memorable and our wildlife - a refuge.

South Africa is not limited to Cape Town or its famous square-topped mountain. It's not just its people either or even the wildlife. It's just so much more & so easy to get around. Notwithstanding & let's be honest, Cape Town's great but the weather in winter [June - Sept] is about as bad as it gets. Australia's Melbourne is just as pretty. Our people are no more diverse; more eclectic; or even more troubled / less troubled than the people of New York / or anywhere else; the wildlife no less or more majestic than the wildlife in any number of locales, including Botswana | Kenya & so on. Here's the secret though - You will not find another destination that offers the full experience, CHEAPER & that too is a fact! More in the next post.

Birding - safety & security

The nature of the dawn-chorus, for most birders, requires an early start and as these things go, for most of us, is usually confined to a weekend or on a public holiday. Alcohol, commensurately, usually suffers its worst levels of abuse on a weekend or a public holiday. When birders & DUI-revelers collide, it's usually in the wee hours and with some consequence.

How birders mitigate the danger relies on luck & perhaps, more emphatically, on common sense. Living, as most of us do, in urban-sprawl, the most logical option when exiting the city is via the main arterial routes. These same arterial routes usually fan out from convenient places of revelry..an inconvenience for sober drivers rendered 'too slow' for the bottle-taught experts. In the last ten years we've been on the receiving end of two incidents directly related to alcohol-abuse & DWUI. Both incidences could have been avoided had we applied some imagination and followed an alternative, more residential, route out of the city. One incident involving one particularly intoxicated moron, cost us the weekend's birding; some financial aggravation and a few unnecessary days in court. These days I make a point of avoiding the 4 am. gauntlet of alcohol-paralysis whenever possible.

Further afield the same alcohol-paralysis can and does find its way into the field. Retiring-rural-revelers, predisposed to a public rendition of 'God save the Queen' or something along those lines, is fair enough if they can hold a tune but somewhat annoying out in the peace & quiet..  Now, I'm not impartial to some revelry but only in the right context. I'm particularly opposed to beer-spittle as the chorus rings false too close to my ear. We had a similar incident in the rural North West province that quickly escalated when we appeared less than complimentary post-chorus. Fortunately we managed to twist the group's arm and they left a little shaken & stirred. Avoiding confrontations like these can be difficult of course. Common-sense, however, and a calm demeanour is usually enough to diffuse the situation. The alternative approach ie: aggression in an uncontrolled environment, usually ends in tears; if not for your own party, theirs and yours, eventually, by implication thereafter.

In rural sub-Saharan Africa the first rule of safely is this - Avoid driving-at-night, at all costs. Livestock, children & intoxicated revelers are often fixtures on unlit roads. The implications of colliding with children, pedestrians & / or large-bodied livestock can be disastrous, both at the scene and for your own psyche later. A similar incident involved our late return from the Kruger National Park via Lydenburg one Sunday night. Driving that road during the day is bad enough. Doing so at night is tantamount to disaster and a self-inflicted aggravation. Either way we found ourselves on a stretch of road, straddled by two rural villages, just as the sun dipped over the horizon. Tensions between the two villages had escalated earlier over whose women looked better in shorts .. I think. The two opposing groups had met, a short time before, in the middle of the thoroughfare. The ensuing debate, on the finer points of cellulite I presume, was enlivened with an assortment of props including knives, rocks & other Bric-à-brac - light enough to throw but sturdy enough to render the opposition brained. Into this maelstrom we innocently drove & well-before we had had suitable access to the local rules of engagement. Unfairly, you could argue, the heaving masses, on hitherto opposing sides, decided our interruption was sufficiently rude to combine forces and attack our vehicle. Suffice to say we got through but only after deft driving & some impressive damage to our vehicle.

Image by: dreamstime.com

ALL birders keep a list of sp. seen. It's what we do. In Southern Africa additions to the list include excursions to our neighbouring countries where a more relaxed approach to the rule of law is often practiced by local officials. This difference in interpretation can lead to robust debate. Often you're damned if you do or damned if you don't but almost always 'don't' is preferable to do. One such incident took place in the far north-eastern parts of Zimbabwe; a region well-trodden by birders in search of the forest-endemics. At a regular police-blockade we were asked to produce the engine number for our trailer or face a fine / jail.. The difficulty of producing an engine number for a vehicle sans-an-engine failed to register with the local constabulary. Some mixed-quantities of spittle did, in fact, find purchase on my person & under normal motivation I might have risen to the debate but in this case, at least, would have been a mental-wilting under what the constabulary envisaged was a somewhat grueling interrogation. The only legal option was to turn myself in; plead mea culpa, admit my complicity as a common-smuggler and spend the night in the capable care of the local President-extraordinaire. The alternative was 'an admission of guilt'- sans paperwork. An 'admission of guilt'- sans paperwork, is a crime & a career-ending mistake; particularly for listers. I waited them out & we left an hour later when the next tax-payer / eye-witness arrived; wallet unopened. Succumbing to cross-border bribery is, perhaps, a 5-minute coup for you & your group but almost always a lifetime of corruption for the locals.

Image by - www.vecto.rs

Gravity is often a force of nature deemed less forceful, less important even, than the opportunity-force of a potential lifer ie: a new addition to the list. This is commonplace in birding-behaviour and on one such occasion was perhaps a yard short of life-ending. Fortunately when birding from the vehicle windows tend to be open - any self-respecting birder will tell you that birds are most often heard, well-before they're seen & particularly in the mist-forest in which we found ourselves not too long ago. The route, in question, descended gradually down a steep mountainside into a wooded valley, some 7 kilometers or so further down below; not vertically of course - that would be a gross exaggeration but in a meandering sort of way. I can't say which bird it was that enticed us out but we found ourselves out of the vehicle & gazing canopy-wards at I remember not. Unbeknownst & behind us the vehicle gradually gathered speed and descended the slippery slope, unilaterally reaching the first meandered bend before we had either dialed-in the bird or noticed its departure. Unable to navigate the bend the vehicle was destined for the local headlines. A feat of athleticism and a perfectly-executed swan-dive through the passenger window, had the both of us teetering without a parachute.. The lesson you would think is fairly straightforward. Notwithstanding, we found ourselves reminded a few years later under similar circumstances in Namibia when I drove off a cliff in an effort to get closer. That too ended well even if relationships were somewhat strained post the event.

The hazards of a birder's life are commonplace & routine. From the unwanted donation of personal belongings to the fated drowning of birdo-buddies who've gripped-off on a bird you've dipped; time spent to and in the field is always an exercise of patience, restraint and not without its trials and tribulations. Even so, with the liberal application of sunscreen & some common-sense, most days spent in the field are cherished. Stay true to your values; be aware of your surroundings; walk lightly upon the trail and leave an indelible mark, not in the papers or on a victim's grave, but on the birding community at large & on those who may, one day, follow those same routes.  

Summer migrants - Springtime in the austral tropics

It's that time of the year again when allergies strike fear into even the most emboldened birder and, if you're like me, the consolation of returning summer migrants hardly registers. Jasmine flowers are particularly galling, a putrid sensory assault. This alcove abomination, a devil-spawn, is a sinus chaos; a staccato of pain and pounding aggravation. Glaring through the window this foul creature stares back, a recessed mockery in the furtive breeze. Bees buzz; good creatures all, heaven-sent angels of mercy; a daily construction crew digging down to the heart of the petal.

Clouds gather, in illegal protest, chanting 'a drizzle for your smile'. It's a teased cleansing of a dry-land cloaked in winter-barren but even then this hope is false. Precipitation's still on northern holidays. Dust, a maverick monster, rolls, angry and vengeful. Winds cool, then warm, a confused farce, whisper sweet motivation and thus inspired the monster initiates an assault made seasonally desperate. It's a feat of bullying no less foul than Jasmine's putrid yellow trident. Dust bunnies, nasty bales of discarded fluff & stuff, wander the hallways clad in emperor's clothes; an avoided vacuum grey. These are the vagrants of the two-stoned wind.

Local avian residents, barren thirst-land sufferers too, refugees at home & cast aside, study the migratory swarm, geographical cowards all. These winter-homed interlopers of the upper class sing & call; a rude assault on the locals. Residents clad in winter's hand-me-downs, all drab and dull, stare at empty bowls. It's unnerving, unfair even, and a seasonal arrogance of the carbon-footprint crowd. Local bishops, disciples of tan, hold solemn vigil; weavers start their baskets for their womenfolk and the bulbuls, cowed silent, peck listlessly at the fruit-bowl dregs.

Migratory arrogance is not limited to the terrestrial pursuits. In the skies their antics are equally objectionable. Fattened six & eight-legged food, angels of mercy even; studiously avoided or sustainably traded by the local, common folk, are savagely harvested and driven to the table. It's a slavering horde, clad as they are in thin stripes or bright blue; a swift disposal of a larder at the cusp of good interest. In the backdrop the residents hold vigil, driven back to the cliffs; a rock of sanctuary.

Waded northern-clime gentry, are transitory thieves, stealing-away in the dark of night, satiated on inland snacks. Buttery-fat these social butterflies scurry, long-legged around the parched verge of ephemeral ponds. Dust- crowned, away from the table, the local tribe whisper on the blacksmith's anvil of discontent. The reveling continues, unabated, until the migratory toll is paid. The bar-bill stays unchecked; gone away south to pastures saline; a coastal assault east & west.

Africans roll-in as they do - cheap fares and a porous border. In central | eastern | western and far-northern dialects African is the immigrant language of inland hill-tops, thorny-veld and marshy vleis. It's an eclectic cacophony of multi-coloured springtime hues.

Into this antihistamine chaos locals whisper sweet protest.  Elevator-talk is a determined shout; singular defiance then summer-proud. Tailors take-in the seasonally old - new clothes, soon, of brightest hue. Construction is frenetic; on plan - spring housing springs ... anew. No. We will not go quietly into this dark night!