WILDLIFE AND OTHER ANIMALS IN SOUTH AFRICA & SCOTLAND
We have lived in Scotland now for well over two decades and have had the privilege of having great views of the distant Highlands with a variety of wildlife roaming through the garden. Deer, sqirrels, rabbits and others. South Africa seems further away with time, and with it the wilder animals, birds, reptiles and bugs. But it is fun to look back on that period.
I have a comprehensive collection of photos from the Namibia trip with my wife in the 2000s on my hard drive - very much better pics, but the older ones bring back other memories.
As small kids we often came across snakes in the bush and sometimes monkeys. When we moved from Baysville to Nahoon Mouth we came across dassies which would come up the street drains to sun themselves on the kerbs or even the low garden wall. I tell of our story of a leguaan (large monitor lizard) coming into our house and up the chimney in my section on Growing Up. And we were to see several along the Nahoon River embankment. I remember a close encounter with a large one disturbed by my dog Jet. It rush past me and up a prickly euphobia tree.
When I got into paddle skiing and then windsurfing I encountered about 5 sharks in the 5 years that I did it regularly. On one occasion while still a student I came across a Southern Right Whale while out on my paddle ski in Algoa Bay (Port Elizabeth). I correctly kept some distance and was furious when the next day there was a picture of someone actually swimming with it. Dolphins were a common occurrence. The first one I ever met actually bumped my ski in shallow water while upside down. An average size of a dolphin pod is about 15 individuals. Larger groups are probably two pods together. There is always one that seems allocated to come over to size you up. It was amazing to actually catch waves with them or see them jump for sheer joy.
My student digs were for a while in a boarding house right on the beach front. Very close to the museum with its adjoining snake park and tropical house. Great for jogging, swimming or paddle skiiing. One evening I found a crowned crane on the esplanade. It evidently had clipped wings, but was trying to fly. With some help I caught it. Presuming that it had escaped from museum complex and knowing roughly which enclosures had snakes, crocodiles, meerkats or birds, I dropped it over the wall. I really hope that I got that right. When I mentioned the escapade to the staff, they had not noticed anything amiss. It was also while living there that I once came across a cormorant dangling upside down from the large steel girders of the old Humewood slipway. It had become entangled in fishing line. borrowed some scissors from the life guard first aid box and paddled across, tied up my paddle ski and climbed the girders to free it.
Our first architectural school premises were behind the science block on the hill in central Port Elizabeth. Live penguins were kept in chillers like large fridges. Sometimes they got out and once some got as far as the city centre on their bid for freedom to the harbour. The modern campus actually had some springbok and blesbok in an area on its outskirts. I used to like to go off to Cape Recife just beyond the campus to look at the birds and walk along the shore. There were frequently vervet monkeys there. One day I came across a very large bedraggled baboon walking down the road. It is many miles between here and the mountains. It is anyone's guess what it was doing here.
When my wife and I first moved into a house together it was a rented one in Gonubie, almost on the shore. I had been on the Border Historical Society committee and used to have meetings in the evenings in the hall behind the museum. A lovely cat had been living on the premises from catching mice and hand-outs and hit used to join us at the meetings. No one knew where it came from so I took it home. It settled in well and got called Youdi. We each decided to go on trips of a week or more and Ines took Youdi to kennels some distance away. Youdi had other ideas about such a place and made a break for freedom and disappeared. A week later she appeared at the house a little hungry, but little the worse for wear. She had found her way unaided over about 8 kilometres of farmland, bushveld, a main road and suburbs. It wasn't that long after that that we found that she was pregnant. She had 6 kittens in a box under the bed. The whole family used to follow me for walks to the rocky beach. A giant sand box. The growing kittens were either taken with us to our new home or given to acquaintances.
Our new house in Beacon Bay was surrounded on three sides by bush. Below it was the Quinera River leading down to Bonza Bay Beach. I could paddle down to the sea and took the girls when young on my larger ski or our canoe. There was an island opposite the house. On such a paddle with Sarah we came across a very large leguaan almost vertical on the steep bank sunny itself. An awe inspiring sight.
This is a pic of a leguan in the zoo. As the one captured at ourhouse was taken there, we like to imagine that this is ours.
One of our cats here also had kittens in a large box. I assisted in their births. Not all survived. Some disappeared and suspect were the victims of snakes.
Snakes were common. I once found a large fat puff adder on the path down to the river while coming back up home. And when we extended the house another large one was found sunning itself in amongst the disused scaffolding. This is the snake that gives me the most heebies. I tried to kill it with unknown results as it slunk in deeper. The only time I have ever tried such a thing. It actually walks on its rippling ribs. It will not slink off when you approach as other snakes, but lies there untilyou stumble on it. Fortunately we grew a 6th sense about dangers such as these. There is a notable difference about instinctive self preserving caution when you live in South Africa. It dries up when you live in the UK where the scariest threat is midges.
A puff adder in the scrapped scaffolding planks in the garden.
We did not have dassies living in our street drain pipes although there were colonies in nearby streets and also in the rocks across the river. One day I had to go to our parents' house in Selborne to pick up something. A round trip of about 50 minutes. On returning I could sense that something was amiss with the engine. I opened the bonnet to find a large dassie steaming away very uncomfortably in amongst the hot engine parts. Its initial reaction on seeing me was to wriggle in deeper, but when I eventually got it out it seemed subdued but able to lope off.
One of several dassies coming up the storm water drains in Beacon Bay for a handout of bread and apples.
Vervet monkeys frolicked in the trees across the river, but only in later years found themselves on our side. Some visited our garden and bounded over the roof. The girls threw them fruit. They don't like garlic!
A vervet monkey on the verandah.
We used to have the double doors of the lounge wide open on summer evenings. One such evening we had an Egyptian Bat come in and cling to the curtains. Then I realised that David Attenborough was on tv talking about bats. It is just possible that it had heard the bat calls on tv and come in to investigate. The large fruit bat was fairly common too. It would leave ghastly purple faeces on the gable wall though. While a fruit eater, hence the colour of its droppings, it seemed to join the other species for an odd insect attracted to the house lights. Another amazing nocturnal visitor was a Lesser Spotted Genet. A gorgeous animal. It sat up on the curtain rail for a while. We never cleaned off its little footprints. While we were to see small buck sometimes they were never common near the house. There was probably a lot more going on than we realised. The large termite mounds below the house could show signs of excavations presumably by something eating them. And they also served as territorial marker points, shown by the faeces on the top, by such creatures as genet. While we never saw one, porcupines were evident by their dropped quills. Our paw paw tree was just about knee high when it was felled by a porcupine nibbling the soft stem. The clue of the culprit by a quill.
A tortoise pays us a visit.
When I went in the canoe or paddle skiing on the river, my cat Paddy would come down and express great concern about me going on the water. He would stay at the waters edge and yowl. So I took to have him in the canoe with me for a while. He didn't really like this, but after a few minutes I could let him out fairly satisfied that I was alright. One day I was just setting off again after a brief jaunt with him when he had clambered out on a small branch over the water. All of a sudden a large woosh of wings appeared from nowhere and dived at him right next to me. The dense branches stopped the bird and it flew off – an African crowned eagle otherwise known as crowned hawk-eagle with an enormous wingspan. We had a great variety of birds in or visible from the garden from sunbirds to spoonbills. Over 80 different species.
As a keen member of the Wildlife and Environment Society of South Africa, I was to hear of many more species in the vicinity than I was to see. One was bush pig. A strange but enjoyable time was spent at the invitation of the regional Environmental Department – at night – in the zoo. Lions roaring in the dark. The braai (BBQ) glowing. A bush pig on the spit. One of the best braais I have ever had. And possibly the last. The family drifted towards vegetarianism and any braais we have now are meatless or with fish.
The Environmental Department stocked the catchment area around a small reservoir within the greater East London city boundaries adjoining some industry, with game. We had some great walks there. I have a firm memory (but a missed photo) of a little Sarah wandering off down a freshly mowed area within the bush veld. A herd of zebra came passed and peered at her. On another occasion at the Gonubie Bird Reserve she wandered off to look at the crowned cranes. One came bounding over to her agitated and with its wings wide open. Almost her own height. Perhaps Sarah had these two experiences due to her size. But she had another strange experience at home in her bedroom.
When we extended the house, each girl got her own room. Sarah had some pot plants in her bedroom. Somehow a large frog had got in and made itself at home in the plant pot. I removed it to the garden. It came back. I took it down the road. It came back. I took it further. We were watching tv one evening when we heard it croaking in the dining room somewhere under the dresser. Over a few days it had found its way back to Sarah's plant pot. I took it even further away. I won.
The resident frog in the bedroom.
We could find the small white frogs specific to white arum lilies in the Gonubie Reserve. In our garden we had bromeliads. These nearly always had rain water in them. A brilliant place for small frogs.
So much for the picturesque. What about insects and other bugs? Scotland has midges. South Africa has mosquitoes. We had just moved into our new bedroom and had the windows wide open due to the smell of paint and it was a warm evening anyway. Zillions of mosquitoes came in. Many settled on the ceiling. I rushed around wacking them with rolled up Daily Dispatches. A bad move. We had both squished mozzies and marks from newsprint all over our new ceiling.
And spiders. The flat ones were common, platties, and could be chased around the walls which really irritated them, but we never harmed them. Huge hairy tarantula looking spiders scared me, not so much for myself, but for the girls. Spider bites could be serious. Some call these baboon spiders. The only one I ever killed was one that insisted on hanging about above the baby cot. They are not really aggressive, but I wasn't taking chances. We had a large nest of hornets in the tree near the front door. I would remove them with a long extension on the long extension on the vacuum cleaner; sprints for safe between sorties until they calmed down again before next attempt.
There were various types of wasps. The potter wasp that built conical clay nests and those that lived underground. The latter is absolutely enormous. One Christmas morning one took a dislike to Ines and stung her on her arm. Perhaps due to her perfume. The little Caitlin came out and got a sting from the very same wasp on her nose. It swelled up badly but Christmas was still enjoyed. These same wasps like to kill the large hairy baboon spiders. After a life and death combat tussle, the poison would take effect and the half dead corpse would be taken to its lair in the lawn.
EVERYBODY has cockroaches in South Africa. They love damp conditions. They can congregate in their hundreds. Control of them at the back of kitchen cupboards from whence they emerge to tackle anything left around is an ongoing battle. Every type of deterrent and killer is bought and tried with limited success – just until they become used to it. And then you try something else. When you can't cope any more, who ya gonna call? ROACHBUSTERS!! Of course. When we resorted to them, a large black van appeared with a large cockroach model on the roof. All very dramatic. Every neighbour knew we had cockroaches. But not one made a derogatory remark. They all knew the deal.
These are experiences around the house or where I windsurfed or paddle skied. I also have some other amazing mental images of wildlife encounters. Ones that on the whole never became photographs.
When I was about 10 we went to Hluhluwe Game Reserve. A guide took us down a slope on foot to find a white rhino. We found one with a calf and he calmly herded it with a stick to pose for us. Then there was shouting from somewhere near the car. Another group of people had disturbed a black rhino and our group had to make a hurried detour back to the car. When we went to the Kruger National Park we went all the way to the northern border. It was getting late one evening when we got surrounded by a great many buffalo. We nervously eventually got clear of them, but we then came across two bull elephants fight right in the middle of the road over a cow. We just had to wait it out. My brother and I were under the back seats. It was by now past the time when the camp gates were locked and latecomers could be fined. We were reassured by the several car lights up ahead. But they turned out to be the eyes of impala reflecting our own headlights. We crept back to the closed gate of the camp and had to attract attention to be let in and my father had to plead not to be fined.
I have described the baboons on the roof of our honeymoon cottage at Loteni in the Drakensberg Mountains elsewhere.
On a visit to the Mountain Zebra National Park as a student Chris and I did a hike. We saw many zebra and black wildebeest galloped past. Dangerous beasts such as rhino had not yet been introduced, but illusive leopard were known to inhabit the higher koppies. We were sitting in a dry river bed having refreshments when rather close to us came the loud umph, umph, awrrrrr, from a clump of thorn trees and reeds. Our immediate thought was of leopard. But deciding that that was not likely down here we approached. Two enormous tortoises were making love. We decided that they needed their privacy.
The mountain zebra in the park. (lighter build than the Burchell's zebra)
When we had established the local branch of the Wildlife Society one of our outings was a weekend in the same Mountain Zebra National Park. It had been extended with the addition of some farmland. To our horror we found several snares. But I have a wonderful memory of jogging along the track in the early cold misty morning – a large eland bull calmly jogging parallel to me not far away in the dip to the side. We were to see eland in a mystical setting as a family years later. We had just arrived for a weekend at a holiday cottage on the Wild Coast. As we approached the road bent towards the beach and about 6 or 7 eland were trotting in the mist along the sand next to the surf. Magical. Of course we had monkeys on the roof at breakfast time.
An eland taken in the Zebra Park,
I took this picture of an elephant in the Addo reserve while I was a student.
This young elephant did a mock charge on our open vehicle at Mpngo Park near East London. It was one of a group evidently hand reared and so used to humans.
We were to have some other large animal encounters in such places as Etosha, the Pilansberg reserve and even more locally in the smaller reserves near East London.
This a younger me at the Shamwari Game Reserve with a lion cub. Really like holding a golden labrador, but this cub was used to being handled and was probably more complacent.
Its dad was even more impressive even when seen from a closed vehicle.
A rhino mother and calf seen from an open vehicle in the Pilansberg reserve. Such impressive horns are sadly now extremely rare, often cut short to deter poachers.
Private game farms are to be found widely in SA. I remember visiting that of the Burchell's farm near East London. (Descended from the famous Burchell after whom zebra and shrikes were named. Besides being harassed by Blue Cranes in their gardens, I remember the younger members of the family taunting captive lions behind a tall mesh fence until they charged at us. Their father was into producing Christian tracts.
Game on farms was either for the owners own supplies for venison, but sometimes as a commercial concern for hunters, often rich foreigners.
Ostrich farming became big business during the fashion rage for feathers in Europe and America. Now it is a shadow of that and depends on tourism as well as selling ostrich meat. Not bad if cooked well and with sufficient sauce, but not really that popular.
So here I am riding an ostrich, my knees firmly over its large wings. The attendant didn't trust me coping on my own so held on too. You can really steer an ostrich by holding its neck.
Crocodile farming also became popular, mainly for the sale of their skins, but also a bit of tourism. This was taken at Doc's Crocs near East London. That is the owner and his daughter handing a small one. You need to check all your fingers.
WILDLIFE AND OTHER ANIMALS IN SCOTLAND
These days in Scotland we look over a field with cows at Ben Lomond. A carrion crow visits regularly for a hand-out and a cock pheasant did too until recently. I actually managed to hand feed the pheasant sometimes and just occasionally both he and Sushi the cat would come up to the car when I came home. Or he would follow me around the garden. His long tail would sometimes get broken or sparse as the crow would pull it in competition over the fat balls I throw out to them, He had introduced two hens. In the spring we had a brief visit by 10 tiny chicks. By the autumns there was no large cock, but the two hens, sometimes three, still came. And then we noticed two young cocks and a hen. Were they chicks grown up fast? The mystery thickens as then three hens came. And then a cock and a hen. A wide variety of birds come to the feeder. Sometimes even a jay or a woodpecker.
The pheasant cock awaits a handout in the snow. In this weather he fluffs himself up and looks even larger – and fatter – than he really is.
The pheasant cock and Sushi the cat greet me at the driveway as I arrive home.
Some of the 10 pheasant chicks in the summer. By the winter those that survived had grown up and visited again.
The pheasants outside the kitchen window or in the garden have changed over the years. We can go for ages without one then another appears. They have either been born in captivity (for the pot or game shooting?) or have some innate inherited instinct from earlier generations of this. Those that pitch up recognise us as a feeding opportunity and hang about, presumably also smelling the fat balls in the feeders meant for smaller birds. We then throw some balls over the wall and they stay.
Some though seem very happy with direct contact. The hen below came into the kitchen for hand outs and we had another pale cock (variations in plumage are common) that I could hand feed - until the resident cock had a fight with him and saw him off.
A pheasant hen in the kitchen.
We regularly see roe deer in the field or in the garden. They have a fairly set route around us and through the woods. Charming creatures and always a thrill to encounter. We have seen the occasional one hit by a car and I had the horrible experience of helping the SPCA put one down. A sad but strangely intimate experience.
A young deer in the garden.
Sushi, the cat, sometimes catches birds and mice and brings them inside to either play with or eat. We have had many a mouse scurrying around the lounge or kitchen. Even a rat in the piano. This is getting less frequent as she gets older. Rabbits, bunnies, were common around the field and garden until a local “hunter” got rid of them- by hand. But Sushi needs to take a lot of the responsibility. She would catch them while young and we would find just the head of a bunny in the kitchen. Yet I did manage to rescue many a mouse or bunny and release further away. As with mice, Sushi would sometimes bring a bunny inside almost unharmed and play with it. One day Nessie was sitting in the lounge watching tv when she exclaimed to me – was that a rabbit that just went past? We may be lucky to see a mad hare romping haphazardly around the field in spring. Quite an entertaining sight.
We sometimes get grey squirrels. Almost as on cue, one has just run up the back garden as I write this. Greys are an introduced species (unlike the cuter smaller reds) and came from America. But rabbits were introduced too – by the Romans – for food. It is possible that the hare was too. And of course so were the pheasants. It is possible that they too were introduced by the Romans and perhaps reintroduced in Victorian times as game birds and are bred. This may explain why they hang around people. Not bright enough to realise their personal danger, but used to people and handouts.
Over a day or two we once saw a weasel peek at us over the garden wall. Of course Sushi had to catch it and bring it inside. In trying to get it out again I had the experience of it scrambling up my leg. I did manage to get it out before some embarrassing injuring to me and it disappeared into the undergrowth.
Foxes have passed by a few times. They are not nearly as common in the countryside as in the city. On one occasion Sushi the cat chased one off. Then just the other day a young fox trotted past amongst the cows. Two calves decided it was worth investigating and perhaps playing with and bounded over. That was too much for the fox,
A fox from the kitchen window.
When I worked in Glasgow I would taken early walks before work and often saw foxes. One once ran right past me carrying a squirrel. On another occasion when I worked for architects within the science park, I heard crying like a baby. As there was a university residence there too, I thought it was a student playing the fool. And then a limping fox came and stood right beside me, using me as a shield from an aggressive competing fox nearby. And once when I was about to go on a site visit to a school project in Musselburgh, I saw a fox being shooed out of a town house kitchen by a woman with a broom. It evidently had entered through the front door on the other side and passed right through looking for food.
