In the same week that Eskom implemented yet another round of load shedding, the Msunduzi Municipality announced it had assigned a team to investigate what was suspected to be a coordinated campaign to sabotage its electricity and water infrastructure. Ongoing outages caused by a persistent lack of investment in maintenance further added to the problems, continuing to cripple an already battered local economy.
The KwaZulu-Natal Department of Economic Development, Tourism and Environmental Affairs (Edca) revealed that while 97 rhinos were poached in 2021, a startling 60 rhinos were killed between January 1 and March 25 this year. Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife blamed budget constraints for the inadequate resources to curb the scourge. Meanwhile, COGTA MEC, Sipho Hlomuka announced additional support measures – including an amount of R25 million – for the embattled Msunduzi Municipality, still struggling to address crippling electricity supply problems and growing pothole challenges.
According to the latest data from the Central Energy Fund, petrol and diesel prices looked set for large increases in the first week of June. Grain prices also sky-rocketed on the back of shortage fears also brought about, in part, by the ongoing conflict in Ukraine.
Nature’s wrath struck again as the second bout of floods damaged homes and infrastructure in parts of KwaZulu-Natal. The weekend’s heavy rains came as many of the April flood victims were still trying to rebuild their lives while others searched for their loved ones who had been washed away.
Businesses and consumers would have to tighten their belts as the recent fuel price hikes were predicted to have a devastating effect on everyone. They would also have an effect on the country’s repo rate as the government struggled to rein in rising inflation.
Questions were raised about whether President Cyril Ramaphosa was involved in criminal behaviour after former SSA director-general Arthur Fraser opened a criminal case against him. Fraser alleged that Presidential Protection Unit head Major-General Wally Rhoode and Ramaphosa were involved in a cover-up of a burglary on the president’s farm in 2020.
The public furore over the burglary of alleged millions from President Cyril Ramaphosa’s Limpopo farm just before the ANC holds it its crucial provincial conference has left his enemies in the ANC – mostly the Jacob Zuma-aligned RET faction – scenting blood. A delegation of secretaries and chairpersons from all eleven of KwaZulu-Natal’s regions immediately descended on Nkandla to confer and receive “wisdom” from the former president.
The four-and-a-half-year State Capture Enquiry finally came to an end when Chief Justice Raymond Zondo released the final part of his voluminous report. Former president Jacob Zuma, who condemned South Africa to state capture, remained the golden thread running throughout the report although Zondo also said that President Cyril Ramaphosa could have done more to lessen its grip.
A lack of financial controls and consequence management had resulted in the KwaZulu-Natal conservation entity, Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife, incurring more than R48 million in irregular expenditure, it was revealed during a virtual KZN Scopa meeting. Ezemvelo – currently struggling to find R100million to fix its porous fences, which have seen wild animals escaping from its facilities – is battling to comply with Treasury supply guidelines due to the entity’s weak financial unit.
Despite the ANC leaders describing their meeting with former president Jacob Zuma as “positive and constructive”, political analysts described the gathering as a waste of time. In the meeting, the ANC top brass led by President Cyril Ramaphosa could not convince Zuma to change his mind on his decision to defy the Constitutional Court order that he should appear before the Zondo Commission.
Msunduzi Municipality’s financial reserves continued to be a huge source of concern, with the City’s December accounts showing it owed a whopping R500 million to its suppliers. Further evidence of the general malaise gripping the municipality was then provided when large parts of the city were again plunged into darkness, for up to twenty-four hours, as two Eskom breakers tripped. This was in addition to the normal Stage Two load-shedding being implemented by Eskom.
On a happier note, the 70th MyLife Dusi Canoe Marathon got underway in Pietermaritzburg although, because of the Covid restrictions, there weren’t the usual large crowd of fans to cheer the canoeists on…
As South Africa acknowledged the first anniversary of the start of the Covid-19 pandemic, the maladministration in the Msunduzi municipality once more came into focus. In a two-part package devoted to the failing city, the Witness provided a range of stories showing how ordinary residents (and city workers) felt they had been abandoned by the uncaring administration. The newspaper’s report also captured the frustration of the business, real estate, tourism and other sectors of the local economy who had suffered as a result of bad management, bad choices and lack of consequences.
Following a heated ANC meeting over the weekend, former president Jacob Zuma’s supporters, who had come out second best in the battle to control the party, were now at risk of being expelled from the party should they continue with their campaign against President Cyril Ramaphosa and the judiciary. Meanwhile, the election of mostly white males to key leadership positions, at the DA’s KZN provincial congress, seemed to suggest the party had ditched its “inclusive” policy, according to some political analysts.
At a time when he needed to be busying himself with the urgent business of running the country and fighting the Covid-19 pandemic, President Cyril Ramaphosa found himself having to ward off more attacks from former president Jacob Zuma and his supporters within the ANC. In 23 pages of speaking notes, Zuma complained that his comrades had left him high and dry and attacked Ramaphosa for stopping the state from paying his legal fees. Zuma also launched a broadside at the independence of the judiciary, questioning the legitimacy and credibility of South Africa’s constitutional democracy.
Plessislaer is now one of South Africa’s murder capitals. This was revealed by the country’s Minister of Police, Bheki Cele, who urged police to get tougher on criminals following a spate of murders in and around Pietermaritzburg. Cele said KwaZulu-Natal had become a problem area along with the Western Cape and more police would be deployed to the area to try and curb the violence that has been spiraling out of control.
While fires raged on in Cape Town and emergency services battled blazes around the clock, it was revealed that KwaZulu-Natal’s fire-fighting capacity had heavy shortfalls. Not only did it lack over 550 fire-fighters but it did not have enough Urban Search and Rescue (USAR) equipment or personnel. The problem was not confined to KZN alone with a Daily Maverick report revealing similar shortcomings throughout the country.
It is four ‘o’clock in the morning and I am lying in my tent in the Sugarloaf camp-site on the fringes of Lake St Lucia town. It is still dark. Although little stirs at this hour, it is not completely silent. In the distance, I can hear the waves crashing against the shores of the Indian Ocean. A sea breeze ruffles the leaves in the trees above me. Someone is snoring softly in one of the tents.
I am agog with anticipation. I know the dawn chorus is coming any moment soon but I am not sure when. I feel that same sense of hushed expectation I get when a concert is about to begin.
The first to start up is the Red-capped Robin-chat, one of the most melodious tune-smiths in the business. When he wants to show off his vocal virtuosity, he can elaborate and vary his tune for as long as he wants, throwing his whole body into the effort, song after song. Next, even deeper in the forest, I hear the amiable chortle of an Eastern Nicator. Him, I want to find (I don’t but I have got him before). Then, that other well-known songbird, the thrush (probably the Olive Thrush) chips in, followed by a whole cacophony of song.
Red-capped Robin-chat.
As I think about dragging myself out of my sleeping bag, I try to identify some of these bird calls although I am not sure whether it is actually the bird I think it is singing or the robin mimicking their sound. Most species have very distinctive calls, but the robin is a master at impersonation. He can do pitch-perfect renditions of virtually every call from the Fish Eagle to the Fiery-necked Nightjar. He can even do convincing imitations of human sounds which is a lot to ask of a bird…
With streaks of light now appearing in the east, I unzip my tent and lookout. The world seems welcoming enough so I crawl out and stagger towards a kettle already boiling on the gas stove. Once my tea is made I pause to take in my surroundings. They are beautiful.
There is a rather long story behind how I got to be standing here with my mug of tea in hand amongst this greenery and the musical melody. Being in this camp-site was never part of our original plan. We had hoped to go to Ndumo, upon the Mozambique border. Chomping at the bit with impatience to get there, my one birding partner, Mark, a professional photographer, had booked the three of us (Ant, an ex-game ranger and all-round nice guy, is the other member) well ahead of time, signing on the dotted line and paying the requested fees.
Ken, a sports-writer based in Jo’burg and the fourth member of the team, had decided to delay booking because he was still waiting to hear what cricket assignments he had coming up. It is he who eventually discovers Ndumo is closed.
In yet another example of the bureaucratic ineptitude that cripples so many governmental bodies in South Africa, Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife had simply not bothered to let any of those who had booked know about this closure. If Ken had not found out we would have merrily made the five and a half hour journey to Ndumo only to be turned back at the gate. Another friend of my mine was actually all packed and due to leave, with his family, the next day. Until I messaged, no one had notified him either.
His patience fraying, Mark tried to book us into Mkhuze but it is the same story. The camp-site is closed for “water reasons”. In the end, he settles for Sugarloaf and checks us in there. Ken and I are sceptical. When we go camping we like to get off the beaten track. A camp-site in suburbia is not our idea of wilderness. Mark is adamant about it so for the sake of group harmony we relent.
Which brings me back to how I am here.
As I take another sip of tea, I hear a strange whooshing sound. A largish bird alights in a wild fig tree near me. With its bright, green colours and upright crest, I recognise it immediately. It is a Livingstone’s Turaco, a ‘special’ of the area. It is a bird that only lives in a very narrow band of elevation and in South Africa is restricted to the thin coastal strip on the upper reaches of Zululand. It is very similar to the more well-known, Knysna Turaco, differing only in having a longer, more pointed, black-and-white-tipped (not white) crest.
I am pleased to be able to tick it off my list so early in the trip.
Still nursing my mug of tea, I concede that Mark may be right after all. Forests are great providers of solitude and he has managed to hide us all in a very secluded spot, away from where the majority of campers have erected their tents (and parked their boats). After the aridity of Mapungubwe and the heat of Kruger (where I have just been), this garden of delights feels like another country to me and a very agreeable one at that. I decide maybe it is advantageous to be open to the new and flexible in your thinking.
Once we have finished our mugs of tea, we set off to explore the iSamgaliso Wetland Park (formerly the Greater Lake St Lucia Wetland Park), South Africa’s largest estuarine system. Its centrepiece is a vast lake that stretches for 38 000 hectares and its rippling waters are home to an enormous population of hippos and crocodiles, as well as pelicans and flamingos. It has the distinction of being the first area in KwaZulu-Natal to be declared a World Heritage Site.
Main lake, iSamgaliso Wetland Park.
Pink-backed Pelican (juvenile).
Ken is bubbling over with enthusiasm because he has heard, via the birding grapevine, that a Rufous-bellied Heron had been sighted at one of the small pans, just to the south of the lake. I have seen one once before, on the banks of the Zambezi at Mana Pool, but for the rest of the group, it will be a lifer. It is a bird that is seldom seen in South Africa. My copy of SASOL describes it as “fairly common resident in north Botswana; uncommon migrant and nomad elsewhere.”
I’m a bit of a nomad myself so I am as anxious as Ken to find it. We are in luck. Parked at the very first pan we come to, we see one fly out from the edge of the water and land on the vegetated matter on the other side. A few minutes later it is followed by another! There is not one, as was reported, but two! A pair!
It is always exciting to see some rare bird in a remote place that is not always easy to reach, so Ken is ecstatic, leaping into the air and high-fiving us all. Thanks to the miracles of modern technology, it is very easy to quickly disseminate information these days so he also lets the Rare Bird Sighting bunch know.
For my part, my heart swells with pride because, as the birder who saw it first, it means I will get to drink red wine tonight out of the special silver goblet we reserve for Best Sighting of the Day! Ken and I take this solemn ritual very seriously but Mark does not share our religious devotion to it. He thinks he has a far superior, much more finely-made wine goblet, failing to understand it is not about the level of craftsmanship – it is about the historical, spiritual and symbolic associations the vessel has.
The Silver Goblet. Pic courtesy of Ken Borland.
Over the course of many years, we have toasted a long list of very fine and stately birds with that goblet…
We drive on, towards the massive, tree-covered dunes that stretch forever along the Zululand coast. The summer rains haven’t started properly yet but everywhere you look it is the same relentless green. In between the forest are open glades of wild parkland in which Zebra, Wildebeest, Giraffe and an assortment of buck roam. The deeper we get into the dune forest, the more the vegetation crowds to the road, In places flat wet dung raises its reassuring familiar smell, meaning that, although we cannot see them, elephant are definitely about. Having had my share of close shaves, I pray they are in good mood…
Near the top of the one high dune, there is a lookout point which provides an exhilarating view over the lake, shimmering under an amorphous sky. Buck and buffalo graze along its banks, a fish eagle’s call adds to the sense of mystery. Ken’s attention is, however, quickly diverted from this Eden-like scene by movement in a nearby tree. It is a White-eared Barbet, another species confined mostly to the Zululand coastal belt and regarded as a ‘special’ although they are quite common here.
We continue up the dune. Another hundred metres or so, we find ourselves staring not over the lake but the mighty Indian Ocean whose rollers are sweeping in endless procession on to the Mission Rocks below.
Mission Rocks. Pic courtesy of Ant Williamson.
Getting on to the surf-flecked rocks, the conchologist in Ken kicks in and he is soon wading around in the tidal pools looking for shells and sticking his fingers into places he ought not to. While he is doing this, Mark is giving an up-country fisherman advice on where to cast his line. Ant snaps the coastline from every conceivable angle with his camera, so he can give his young daughters some idea of where he has been.
I gaze out to the ocean and think about the U Boats that once cruised up and down these waters, attacking merchant shipping lanes off the South African and Mozambican coasts. In a now mostly forgotten episode of the Second World War, 75 Catalina Flying Boats of 10 Royal Airforce squadrons were based, among other places, at Lake St Lucia. They were used for spot and destroy operations along the South African coastline where 163 allied ships were lost to Japanese and German submarines.
On a previous visit, my brother, Patrick, and I had been shown a cellar under a house in the town where it was believed, a spy in the employ of the Germans, had sent radio messages to the submarines.
From here it is a short drive, through yet more forest, to Cape Vidal, a beautiful stretch of shoreline but with too many tourists doing dumb touristy things for my taste. I am not too put out when we turn around and head home.
That evening, Mark and Ant are keen to show us the Ski Club they have discovered the previous day, so we pile back into the car and head down to it. The setting can hardly be improved upon. Directly in front of the club deck is the estuary in which flamingos, in their gossiping hundreds, parade up and down like models on a watery cat-walk. The edges team with waders feeding avidly before night falls. On the other side of the estuary dune, the ocean drives at the shore without pity. Gulls and terns skim overhead eyeing the thundering waves for signs of edible sea life
Flamingo in estuary.
I cannot imagine anything more conducive to relaxation than all this – the cold beer, the balmy African sky, the flamingo, the heady perfume of the sea, the companionship of those who are prosecuting with zeal and enthusiasm the same path of science as you.
Next morning we are up early again and on the road. I am hoping we will have some good sightings over the next few days. There is a good chance of that. Ken is possessed of the sort of doggedness that distinguishes any good birder and when you go with him you know you are in for the long haul. It is almost impossible for him to drive past some small, subsidiary road and not want to go down to see what might be lurking there. Ken would make a top-notch detective if he weren’t so mad about sport.
Our convoluted route takes us all the way back to the N2 freeway and then down to Charter’s Creek on the western shores of the lake. We find the camping facilities here are also shut because of the water situation even though there is a whacking great lake full of the liquid directly in front. Mark smells neglect and rank incompetence in the air.
Charter’s Creek.
Grey-headed Gull, Charter’s Creek.
He then gets out the skottle and makes a sumptuous breakfast fit for a king, near the jetty where some folk are fishing. Ken and I search for water-birds. Ant takes more photos for his daughters.
Cooking breakfast at Charter’s Creek. Pic courtesy of Ant Williamson.
Afterwards, we head off along a route that takes us down the western side of the estuarine system. Near the Dukuduku gate, lying in the grass, close to the road, is a magnificent old Waterbuck bull with one horn. He is all on his own. His surviving horn is long and whorled. If the others weren’t there to set me straight, I would have sworn I have found a unicorn.
A unicorn?
Over the next few days, we explore this whole water-wonderland of river, streams, lakes, vleis, marshes, and oozing filament as it drains into the Indian Ocean. We drive over dunes, through grassland and more pristine forest. We follow a walkway which leads to a lookout point built high up in a gigantic, evergreen Cape Ash (Ekebergia capensis), looking out over an expanse of the swamp. We stand and look towards the spot where one of the Catalinas, that once hounded the Germans, crashed into the lake. Its fuselage still lies under the murky waters providing an object of interest for passing fish.
View from lookout in massive Cape Ash tree. Dunes in distance.
As we do all this our bird list mounts up – Bataleur, Forest Buzzard (immature) Crested Guineafowl, Spurwing Goose, Yellow-bellied Bulbul, Caspian Tern, Purple-banded Sunbird, Red-billed Oxpecker, Trumpeter Hornbill, Ringed Plover, Yellow-breasted Apalis and much more. The top sighting is, once again, reserved for me. Scoping the shores of a small pan I pick up several Collared Pratincoles. Once again I lick my lips in anticipation. The silver goblet is mine!
It is only on our last day, when we drive to Lake Bhangazi, that the animals come out in force.
Lake Bhangazi.
We get up close and personal with two old buffalo. The buffalo is said to be the most aggressive animal in Africa and the way these two keep a beady eye on us makes me hope I will never have to put it to the test. Then we see White Rhino. Three of them. Their horns have been sawn off to try and deter poachers from killing them. Covered in black mud after a good wallow, they look like they have grown out of the soil itself. They also appear quite oblivious to the dark clouds hanging over the future of the species. I love Rhino although I have been chased, on more than one occasion, by their highly irritable and bad-tempered cousin, the Black Rhino.
Buffalo with Oxpecker.
We come upon several herds of fleet-footed Kudu, the male members of whom boast some of the finest horns I have ever seen.
A fine pair of horns…
Sniffing the air…dune forest in background.
Finally, just as we are about to abandon hope: elephant. I have witnessed elephant looming up through trees, lashing the air with their trunks, massive ears flared, angry as all hell, but these two look as peaceful as lambs as they doze in the midday sun, using a Water-berry tree (Syzygium cordatum. Zulu: umdoni) as a make-shift beach-umbrella. You never can tell, though, so I am glad they are not blocking our exit.
Elephant under Water-berry Tree.
My trip ends on a birding high note. On the final morning, while Ken is performing his lengthy ablutions and Mark is packing his vehicle with military-style precision, I spot a bird creeping through the creepers where the Red-capped Robin-chat normally hangs out.
It is a robin but not the robin I expected – it is a Brown Scrub – Robin which I have only seen once before!
A happy camper, I start whistling (very badly) self-congratulatory robin tunes to myself as I exit the park…
Stidy's Eye 