In the company of black rhino

There seem to be several rules to tracking black rhino in the dense thicket of Great Fish Nature Reserve in the Eastern Cape.

Firstly, make sure there is a big enough tree to climb in case you’re charged, which black rhino are inclined to do.

Secondly, make sure that you are with someone who knows what they’re doing. Without an expert to guide you, the dense vegetation is going to make your life hell. You can’t see more than a few metres in front of you, literally – which means, of course, that a rhino could be standing on the other side of the bush, waiting to smash you to smithereens. You need someone with you who understands the animals and the vegetation and who has a sixth sense about the area.

Thirdly, although black rhinos don’t have very good sight, they have excellent smell and hearing…so make sure you’re walking towards them with the wind at your face, and are treading very lightly on the earth, to avoid making any noise. Even then, our distinct human smell seems particularly odorous to animals, and chances are the rhino will know something is amiss, even if the wind is in your favour. Then there are the oxpecker birds, which stand on the backs of the rhino, screeching loudly whenever humans come close.

Well, on my last few days at Great Fish Nature Reserve, I was in the company of Buyisile Mkulungu and Siyanda Mgidlana, both Eastern Cape Parks rangers. For a few mornings and afternoons I accompanied them on their patrol of the reserve, as they sought out and identified the black rhino that live here. And each time we came within a few metres of the huge animals…my heart has beaten really fast lately!

Siyanda is the younger and chattier of the two, and is learning from Buyisile, who is older and relatively taciturn. His quiet, calm nature – even when charged by a rhino – was like gold in the subsequent tense encounters.

Generally, our excursions went like this: we drove to a vantage point that gave good views over the valleys below, and Buyisile would spend at least half an hour scanning the landscape with his binoculars. Sometimes it was an hour. To give you an idea of how hard this is, finding a rhino in the sub-tropical thicket vegetation is like scanning a huge soccer stadium filled with people to find the one person you’re looking for. More than that, the rhino tend to feed in the bushes, only appearing momentarily in one of the few clearings. Your chances of seeing them are very, very slim.

But like night follows day, Buyisile always managed to find a rhino. And when he did, it was with minimal fanfare. “Rhino”, he’d murmur nonchalantly under his breath, pointing with his finger to some nondescript grey speck in amongst several square kilometres of pale green thicket. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s one of the most impressive things I’ve ever witnessed.

From there, we’d drive a bit closer, crossing valleys and hills to get to the area where Buyisile had seen the rhino. Then we’d walk, spending up to several hours tracking it.

When we got within the general location of the animal, inevitably it was hidden by thick bush. Buyisile would find me a tree, point to it, and say, “This is your tree.” I got the message quickly. A big black rhino within charging distance quickly sets your priorities straight. A good tree is like your best friend in these circumstances. Any bluster and hubris that you may have felt quickly evaporates in the company of a black rhino. Respect for the hulking creature is the only thing on your mind.

The problem with the trees in this part of the Eastern Cape however, is that there are very few which you can potentially climb. Most are agonizingly fragile and grow low to the ground. A rhino would have no problem smashing it in one blow. On several occasions, there were no trees to climb, and instead I tried to find a big spekboom to hide behind, not that the rubbery plant would be much of an obstacle to a charging one-and-a-half ton rhino. Nevertheless, my love affair with spekboom has intensified since I’ve been rhino tracking in Great Fish Nature Reserve; it did give me a wonderful sense of security, even if it was a false one. Better than no sense of security, I’d say.

Once Buyisile had identified the rhino, he’d beckon to me to make my way from my tree (or from behind my bush), to get closer. Sometimes we’d get within about 10 metres of the rhino, as it sniffed the air intently and pointed its large ears in our direction. It’s a peculiar feeling, being within a few metres and in full view of a huge rhino, yet the big animal can’t really see you…definitely something to get your adrenaline pumping, but not sure it’s entirely enjoyable.

On our last patrol, we had spent a few hours tracking a particularly elusive rhino, and night was approaching. The light wasn’t good, and we were about to head back to the bakkie. Then as we walked through a corridor of spekboom, the rhino stuck its head out of the bush in front of us, about five metres away. “Here we go” I thought…Siyanda and I backtracked quickly, while Buyisile stood still, calm and composed.

It stared at us for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably just a few seconds. Then it turned and hightailed it, rumbling across the stony ground like a minor earthquake. In this case, Buyisile’s composure had kept things under control…and it made me realise that rhinos – even the irascible black rhino – are still more scared of us than we are of them…and for good reason. As we all know (and if you’re overseas, you may know), that rhinos in Africa are under huge threat from poachers. Black rhino are one of five species of rhino, which include White, Greater One-Horned, Sumatran and Javan. In Southern Africa, where most of the world’s wild rhinos now survive, several thousand out of a total population of only about 20 000 have been killed by poachers in the past few years. Rhino horn is now more expensive than gold, and the price is fuelled by Chinese and Vietnamese people who wrongly believe that the substance has medicinal properties.

I’ll never forget these past few days. “Enkosi” Buyisile and Siyanda for putting up with my photographic demands, and helping me get close to the earth’s most ancient land animal, which has existed in some form or the other for more than 50 million years. There are only a few thousand black rhino left in the wild, and to be in their company is a huge privilege. About a year ago, I spent two weeks in KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa covering the rhino poaching tragedy for Wild Magazine, and after photographing several dead and bloody rhinos, I was finished emotionally. So my time in Great Fish Nature Reserve was very rewarding: there’s nothing like getting up close to the wild, live, healthy, free creatures in their natural habitat.

The view that confronted us recently one morning...can you see the rhino? I promise you it's there...somewhere

Ranger Buyisile Mkulungu up one of the few trees looking for rhino

The first sight of a rhino on foot is generally like this...ears, eyes and a very big sharp horn.

The dense vegetation separating us from the rhino didn't make me feel any safer...if anything, it makes it more nerve-wracking

A few metres away...the thicket vegetation makes tracking black rhino very interesting, and notice the oxpecker on its back, screeching for all it's worth...