Tembe Elephant Reserve

KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa

There’s a legendary Kenyan elephant, who, locals say, worked diligently over the course of several months to saw off his tusks by rubbing them against the trees of the dense forest to prevent his own death by poachers. 

When I heard this story in 2010 I was intrigued not by its disputed veracity but rather by the awe of those who know elephants well.   Elephants, they said, were intelligent enough to understand unseen specific danger, access advanced reasoning to formulate a solution and use a tool (the tree) to protect their long term interest even though the consequence would be physically disabling;  an extreme act not unlike the American hiker who cut off his own arm when trapped by rocks in the Utah desert.

I was intrigued enough to begin reading in earnest about elephants.  The more I read, the more I began to admire elephant intelligence, their ability to communicate over long distance and familial bonding.  I was struck with the same awe as those Kenyans.   Did you know for example, that elephants will mourn dead family members for a week and work together to spread the bones of the dead over large distances in designated elephant cemeteries?   Or that elephants are pregnant for 22 months and nurse their infants for almost two years?  If the mother is unable, for whatever reason to nurse (i.e., death) a lactating female relative will nurse the infant in her place.  The entire herd, which stays together for life, will protect their infants, even if it means losing their own lives in the process.

I wanted to get closer and learn more. 

So here I am, at Tembe Elephant Reserve in the far northeastern corner of South Africa’s KwaZulu-Natal, Nelson Mandela’s birthplace.   Wild elephant, lion, and giraffe, as well as rhino, leopard, hippo, buffalo, and many more species of wildlife populate these 30 square miles in a unique venture between the local community and the government.  When nearby farmers grew tired of the elephant who were trampling their crops and the lions who were attacking and killing their workers and families, they asked the government for help.  After lengthy negotiations, Tembe’s land and animals and all of its revenue belong to the community while the government manages the ecosystem.

But this is  Zululand, not Disneyland, as the park rangers like to say.   This is not a zoo or Florida’s Africa Safari.  The animals here are wild and can be dangerous. 

Most of the reserve’s original elephant herd fled here from neighboring Mozambique during that country’s civil war and its tolerance of poaching, which together were decimating the elephant population.  (Ivory can earn the lucky poacher $50,000 per pound.  An elephant’s two tusks can together fetch $500,000).  The elephants were rightly fearful of and furious at humans.  It took two years for them to understand that not all humans were killers.  Two rangers however, lost their lives to elephants during those early years.   

Before coming here I spent many tortured days deciding between working at a sanctuary, where rescued animals are fed, cared for and rarely released back into the wild, or at reserve, which is a far different “animal.”  

In a reserve, the animals must hunt for and kill their own food.  They are not fed by humans.  They are rarely treated for injuries, even if life threatening.  But the eco system is limited and must be managed to prevent over-population of a species, gene-tainting by intra-breeding, and break-outs by dangerous animals who will cause havoc in the community.  If for example, there are more lions than the reserve geography can handle, the lion will break out looking for more territory to control.  Lions are therefore selectively sterilized to prevent overpopulation.  But here at Tembe, management believes that the risk of temperament and behavior change is too great in complete sterilization, so only 1/2 of a lioness’  ovaries are removed, allowing them to give birth to half the amount of cubs they normally would.  A male lion will be traded for another from a different reserve so that his DNA is not disproportionately spread among the pride, resulting in tainted genes.  Nyala, the prevalent antelope prey populating the reserve, are overabundant and decimating the plant life for herbivores.  They must be culled to keep the delicate balance between predator, prey, and vegetation vital to the survival of all.

Despite popular opinion, there are very few large wild animals left in the world.   Nowhere on the planet can one find prides of lion, herds of elephant, buffalo or rhino roaming freely in significant numbers.  Lions have been killed for their paws and heads and rhinos for their horns (at the rate of 3 killings per day in Africa), all sold in Asia for medicinal purposes.  Elephant may likely be extinct in our lifetime.   Other large animals, including buffalo, have been hunted for sport, sustenance and trophy.  The only safe place now for these animals is on the world’s reserves, like the Serengetti, Chobe, and other government-owned and private, protected lands in Africa and Asia. 

Here at Tembe, there are 5 of us working with Monitors who travel the reserve twice daily by open jeep -10 hours per day - ensuring that the balance is maintained.  We are housed in a small, bare, but clean and comfortable bungalows with communal toilet, shower and kitchen facilities.  Our camp is entirely surrounded by fence with a gate that is open during the day, but closed at night, to protect against entry by the animals, although nyala and chimps visit daily.  Just today the chimps got into the kitchen (someone forgot to close the door) and wiped out our apples, onions and bananas.  Rice, oatmeal and cracked eggs littered the floor.  Fences are mere “suggestions” to animals to stay out.   If a large animal wants to enter he can - just like a thief can break through a locked door.  Elephant have broken into camp before, although since I’ve been here, I’ve only seen them feeding on the trees just outside the fence. We’ve been briefed on how to behave if there is a close encounter with a dangerous animal, which mostly involves giving the animal its personal space and moving slowly backwards.  Contrary to popular opinion and the films that fuel it, large wild animals will not attack without good reason. But one never knows if the animal he meets has a good reason or not.  Caution and prevention are key.

Clinton, Philip and Leonard, the South African monitors with whom we work, are all degree candidates in related fields such as nature conservancy, animal behavior and environmental management.  We are up at 3:30 a.m. and on the “road” by 4 using telemetry equipment to locate collared alpha lions and wild dogs.  At certain key junctures we stop the open jeep, (taking care to NEVER leave the vehicle), stand up, turn to the radio frequency of the animal we are searching for and slowly rotate an antennae 360 degrees above our heads until we get the telltale beep of an animal’s location.   We then head in that direction hoping for a visual siting.  Since both the lions and the dogs sticks together in packs, only a few from each pack need be collared.  If we visually locate the pack, we park the vehicle and observe their behaviors, which makes the early rise and tedious monitoring worthwhile.

We’re back at camp by 9:30, eat a quick breakfast and then head back out for another 4-5 hours.  In the afternoons, we catch up on sleep, do laundry, read, prepare dinner or any of the other mundane things one does anywhere in the world. I’ve been leading an hour of yoga a day for my English and German cohorts, since it is just about the only time we have to significantly move our bodies.  

Tembe, is a “sand forest,” a unique eco system where the ground of the entire reserve is composed of fine beach sand, with thick and abundant vegetation, including scrub brush, acacia trees and much more.  There is a tourist lodge here, but the capacity is low.  It takes almost 2 hours to reach the northern boundary of the reserve from housing in the south.  Travel is at a speedy 15mph over sand “roads” just wide enough for one vehicle.  The numerous animal paths that lead into the thick bush are off limits to all vehicles so visuals can only be made if the animal is on or near the road.  Just as we were rounding a curve in the road the other day, we practically rammed into an enormous agitated elephant in musth (a kind of male heat), a potentially dangerous situation.  We put the car in reverse and made a successful getaway.

This week there are planned “call-ups,” where targeted animals are “called up” with nyala carcass.  They are then darted with anesthesia by the vet hiding in a vehicle nearby.  The group then has 45 minutes to collar the animal, perform contraceptive work, or ready the animal for transport to the reserve’s “boma,” an enclosed area where the animal is kept until ready for exchange with another reserve.  The work is intense and stressful as the work must be done while the clock is ticking.  Guards with rifles protect the group.  But its the opportunity of a lifetime to get very up close and personal with a wild, free and dangerous animal, albeit a sleeping one.

Will write about that when I can.