Hippo Hunt- Okavango Delta Style

I am no stranger to the hippo hunt. In fact, my hippo hunting experience spans two evenings… and a few bottles of wine. However, while in the remote Okavango Delta in Botswana, I was privy to a whole new side of said hippo hunt.

It is the day of our arrival. All eight of us in the tour group, plus tents, food and personal supplies for three days, arrive at our remote island destination in the delta on mokoro’s, a traditional canoe. There were two persons to a mokoro, plus the poler, who stood in the back of the mokoro with a pole about ten feet long that is used to push off the bottom of the shallow delta and propel the mokoro. Six mokoros in all wash up on the shores of the tiny, remote island in the delta about an hour and a half later.

We set up our tents and campsite. Then our local tour guides offer to take us on a game walk. We all hop into our mokoros and we head deeper into the delta. After a short twenty minute ride through the velvet waters and reed-lined aqua highways, we hit land again. It’s another of the hundreds of islands in the delta. We are led on foot through the savannah-like island. During our hour and a half long walk, we encounter a herd of African buffalo and an elephant before we hear the hippos.
The hippopotamus makes a very distinctive sound. It sounds a bit like a large, asthmatic pig with a terrible cold imitating Santa Clause’s ‘ho, ho, ho’s’, times ten. So we know it is them. And they are nearby. Even though I’ve seen them before in the wild, I still fill with a sense of fear and anticipation. Hippo’s are Africa’s deadliest animal and we are hours away from civilization and our only accompaniments are two small African men.

Our African guides are titillated. They lead us through the tall grass and around a large pond. The echoes of the hippos’ calls surround us. Large reeds obscure the snorting hippos creating a very eerie and uneasy sensation. Finally, we are corralled on a small mound in effort to get a better look. I’m just happy to improve my view for securities sake. Suddenly, the slipping sun abruptly hits my consciousness. At the same moment I was contemplating the impending darkness, I noticed- out of the corner of my eye- our African guides bent over in what seemed to be an unusual action in the middle of the African bush while surrounded by hippos.

They had taken their pants off. No, seriously; they took OFF their pants. They quickly began to engage in some sort of choreographed march over the reeds. As they marched their briefs sagged slightly in the behind. I blink in bewilderment. My travel partners and I squint hard to be sure our eyes are feeding our brains the correct information. Soon the choreographed movement reveals its purpose. Our guides were laying down reeds that were obscuring our view of the hippos in water. However, soon blinks turn to giggles and giggles to uncontrollable laughter. Neither our aggregated perplexity nor our outright hysterics interrupted our dedicated guides.

The sun continues to set. The men continue to pat down the reeds. The hippos continue to billow their chuckles. We have no weapon; no flashlight. There are no trails to follow back to camp. Anxiety builds. We talk amongst ourselves. We discuss a plan to explain to our guides that we should be leaving, enlighten them of our imminent perils. But now they are nearly twenty yards into the murky banks of the hippo infested pond. I’m sure NOT going in after them! It seems an eternity until they finally walk back to their pants and nonchalantly pull them over their droopy briefs and start to lead us back to the mokoros.

The walk back was over an hour- most of it in the dark. We walk in a single file line and we huddle so close that I continually step on the person in front of me. I shudder, and then indignantly repeat to my fellow traveller, when one of the guides whispers to me that he doesn’t see well at night so I should keep my eyes peeled for the mokoros! Finally, we make it to the familiar mokoros and they safely whisk us through the liquid thoroughfares to the safety of our campsite. Crisis averted- barely!