Africa (Part 4)

Reed Highway

The buzz of the 200HP motor pushes us through the wide waterways of the Okavango delta, our destination is a small local village just on the edge of the protected zone.  Before too long we are unpacking the motorboat into dugout canoes, which the locals call mocoros.  All the activity around the mocoros can definitely be described as organised chaos as there are supplies going in all sorts of directions and orders being given but not necessarily received, while people busily move, much like worker bees.  However, with chaotic efficiency, the mocoros are quickly packed and ready.

We are all assigned a poler who is going to guide us through the delta’s waterways, and as their name suggests they will be doing this with a pole.  Our home for the next two nights is an island deep into the delta, which is only accessible by water.  The island itself is a larger island and therefore supports game such as elephants, various antelope, zebras and sometimes lions and hippopotamus.  I say sometimes because the animals do move between the various islands, depending on the water levels and availability of food (and also the presence/absence of humans).

I am ushered to my mocoro and after taking my seat we glide onto the delta, the only sound is the soft splash of the pole as it dips into the water to propel us forward.  Our sleeping mats that we use in the tents have been placed into the mocoro as our seats so I recline back and let the rocking of the boat and the movement of the water under the mocoro take me to another place, a relaxed place.  We are following fairly narrow channels and at one stage I look up and see all of the poles in front of us, which belong to the other mocoros, and smile to myself as I think surely we are on the reed highway, one highway that I am happy to be travelling along. 

As we move deeper into the delta and the sun begins to establish itself above us, the heat of the day beats down onto us.  With my small supply of water diminished, I dip my canteen over the edge of the mocoro into the cool clean waters of the delta.  I drink deeply and the fresh water quenches my thirst but also seems to give me a greater connection with the delta, it is as if not only do I now feel the water flowing under me but also through me; I now feel that I am sustained by the delta.  Refreshed I lie back in the mocoro and once again let myself be taken to another place as we are transported along the reed highway.

Setting up camp on the remote island certainly gave me a level of excitement as there were fresh elephant tracks through the camp and we were given clear instructions not to venture outside of the immediate area.  The feeling started to grow on me that I had arrived in the wilderness that I had arrived in Africa.  Foregoing my shoes I started to embrace the wilderness and took every opportunity I could to spend time with the polers. 

One such example was heading out with two mocoros and four polers to go fishing.  This involved placing nets just after lunch and then returning just before dinner time.  After placing the nets, we checked that they were all sitting as they should be before returning to the camp and upon inspection we had already caught a fish, which we retrieved.  On returning to the camp, one of the polers gave me the fish and said it was mine, a gift for me.  So I immediately set about cleaning it, placed it onto the fire and enjoyed the freshest fish and once again felt sustained from the delta.  I am also glad to say that on our return in the evening we had caught about 20 fish.

That evening, around the camp fire the polers sang some songs for us.  There was one particular song that moved me immensely and I can honestly say that was the moment that I fell in love with Africa.  I could not understand the words of the song but the emotions pierced me deeply.