The First
Safari.

Namibia — Nyae Nyae Conservancy. August 18 – September 8, 2012. Camelthorn Safaris: Felix Marnewecke, PH and partner; Florian Huettner, administer.

Denker’s introduction

I had read several articles on hunting great old bull elephants in Nyae Nyae — formerly Bushmanland — by Kai-Uwe Denker. An old-school PH and a conservationist. He hunts on foot. He lets his clients shoot only aged bulls and old plains game. I was very impressed by the way he hunts — and by the hundred-pounders his clients had taken — and I kept telling myself I had to go there as soon as I could.

A couple of emails out, and he had replied. Unfortunately Denker had stopped elephant hunting at the end of 2011 — he was fifty-two, and felt elephant hunting was a sport for younger men. I started elephant hunting at fifty-two, because I felt I would not walk that far if I waited. He generously introduced me to Camelthorn Safaris — a new co-outfitter in the concession with SMJ Safari — and after three weeks of emails with Florian I booked nineteen hunting days for the two remaining trophy bulls, an own-use bull, and some plains game.

The concession

Nyae Nyae — where The Gods Must Be Crazy was filmed — is a remote patch of the northern Kalahari, in Namibia’s far northeast. Nine hundred thousand hectares. Limited road access. Felix tells me there are roughly 2,500 to 3,000 elephants here, almost all resident. The whole concession is permitted for just six trophy elephants a year — which means the country holds many aged bulls with real ivory.

It does not mean there is a hundred-pounder behind every tree. Or a ninety. Or even a fifty. It means you walk, because you cannot drive, because there are no roads where the bulls live. You will not see many elephants from the cruiser. You will see them at the end of a long walk.

Arrival

Aug 18. OR Tambo half an hour early. Three of us — me and two staff — two and a half hours in the SAA lounge. The flight to Windhoek on time at ten-thirty. Felix met us the moment we cleared immigration, rifle and customs. One simple form to import the rifle and ammo. Namibia is one hour behind Johannesburg at this time of year.

Our charter to Tsumkwe was delayed an hour — the charter man had mixed up our booking. The twin-propeller was smaller than I had expected; the rifle case went in the middle of the cabin between seats. Strong headwinds made the ride bumpy. I closed my eyes a couple of times to stop the air-sickness.

An hour and fifty minutes later we landed at Tsumkwe. Florian was waiting with Keshe, the sixty-year-old tracker. Two more trackers would join us for the hunting: Robert — Kai-Uwe Denker’s former number-one — and Xhau, the youngest of the three. Camp was fifty kilometers from the airport, half an hour’s drive. It was a brand-new camp. We were Camelthorn’s first clients in Nyae Nyae.

The PH with the holes in him

At dinner Felix sized me up. He is six foot five; I am five foot six. An old beat-up city man, he must have been thinking. He asked whether I could walk. He had been out of hospital for three days — he had just had an encounter with a buffalo that had put three holes in his body and leg, and he was still visibly limping.

I told him, Please do not worry. I will be fine with your condition like this, too.

His answer: You’d better watch out what you are saying.

Well. I was right — most of the time.