CULLING OF ELEPHANT IN WANKIE NATIONAL PARK

I am going to write now on the controversial subject of Culling that went on in Wankie. I know a lot of people will have a lot to say on the subject, but it had to be done and has been and gone.

Imagine there were two men and eight women in a house with a freezer and pantry full of food and drink. Now there is no access to the outside world, so no extra sustenance can be obtained. Due to lack of entertainment breeding will take place, so numbers will multiply, and food will diminish – so what is going to happen? Eventually the folk in the house will die off. This is akin to the 1970/71 draught in Kenya’s Tsavo National Park when they decided to let nature take its course and they had 6000 elephants perish due to lack of food or water. What an agonising death!! I saw a sable manage to get within a couple of metres of a pumped waterhole and collapse first onto bent front legs and then let out a heart rendering below as death slowly came over him. Some of you will say this is nature, but man has restricted these animals so they cannot roam as far and wide as they did in David Livingstone’s time, so man must now look after them (elephants and all other animals) and their habitat.
Now put this scenario to herds of elephant that man has now confined to a National Park – they eventually cause destruction to the trees with either pushing them over to get the foliage and pods at the top of the tree or ring barked them, so they don’t have a chance to re-grow but die off, and the grasslands are denuded to just Kalahari sand – what are these animals now going to eat, never mind the rest of the animal population that is in the same National Park.
During drought years in Wankie elephant would rip up the pipes from the pump to the water hole to try and obtain water. They have even knocked down fences to picnic sites and tried to get water from where there was a tap to supply visitors with water. They have pushed over windmills in search of water. A moat had to be built around all windmills and pumps to try and keep the elephants from destroying them. An article in the Rhodesian Chronicle states on the Dett vlei “Courtney Selous hunted on it and spoke of its thriving plant and animal life. Its name derived from ndetima, meaning a marsh or bog, testifies to this. Investigation has shown parts of it were covered by vast forests. Today much of the vlei, running for more than 15km near the main entrance to Wankie National Park, is a dustbowl. Repeated fires and cattle grazing have taken their toll. Little vegetation grows and most animals keep well clear. Rangers have travelled long distances to investigate what they thought was smoke, only to find it was a dust storm on the vlei.” Overgrazing!! I did a trip through Hwange September 2011 and found there was a lot of destruction in the Mopane woodland, and will be interested to see the results in August 2011 when we do another trip through Hwange, as now there is no culling, just poaching from higher officials!
Dad did try and keep as many pumps and windmills in the Park (even in the wilderness areas) operating so that animals would be dispersed to save the vegetation being destroyed around just a few pans. He also used to get the Parks pilots to fly the Park and if any of the pump attendants had a problem with their pump they could wave at the pilot who would then inform ground staff to go out and fix them. Often Dad flew with the pilot.
The men that did the culling operations did not enjoy this job, but were professional about it, with killing a herd in under a minute and darting the younger animals. This is far cry from what Adolf Hitler did – killing 17 million civilians including 6 million Jews targeted in the Holocaust and between 500 000 and 1 500 000 Roma (Adolf Hitler – Wikipedia), and what a lot of other leaders have done to mankind, just read Peter Godwin latest book “The Fear The Last Days of Mugabe”, the genocide going on in Africa. Are these leaders being made to account for their sins? The rest of the world idly sit back, complain but do nothing! One day they will all meet their maker!! All the meat was dried and sold to the local community, the ivory was the property of the Government and the skins sold and the only thing left was the intestines and entrails. The profits of these sales would then go back into National Parks to maintain the roads, pumps and rest camps.

This exert was taken from Dad’s diary:
MONDAY 1 AUGUST 1977
First cull from Linkwasha – 24 including 2 captured one each for Bristow and Schulz. Barrie flew with Mike while I went down with Len Roberts – just beyond Mandundumela.
Average dried meat per elephant 97 kilo last year – 106 kilos this year.
Average hide – weighed after 5 days in salt 137 kilos.
Wild Life Contractors paid 80c per kilo for dried meat while in Salisbury 95c per kilo – hide fluctuates current $2.15 per kilo, but last year 85c.
Usual profit in a year $4000.00 after all expenses, income tax, depreciation and interest.
Len paid $20 per day while on the job – so much per hour for use of his plane on company business – allowed on trip per week to his ranch on the company. Private land rovers so much per mile on company work – amount per hour and mile not stated.

The timber used for drying the meat on had to what was lying around due to elephant destruction. They would take on an average of 25 elephant a day within a 30 mile radius of their camp site if possible.
The young elephants were taken to holding pens at Umtishibi to settle down before being sold off. Now folk might think this is awful to have one’s family shot and now be homeless, but think of a child who is dumped or given up for adoption! How many of you folk reading this can remember your life as a two or three year old – not many of us remember those years of our lives – we are resilient at that age. A lot of these babies are now being used for tourists to interact with them and get to learn all about them in safari camps. I don’t whole heartedly agree with riding them, as they are still a wild animal and should be entitled to their former life. I always wanted a squirrel as a pet in my youth, but Dad would not allow it, as he said they are wild animals and must stay wild.

This is just my point of view, and may not be everyone’s. I grew up in National Parks, so enjoy seeing the animals in their natural environment, and do feel that hunting and culling is a necessary action to keep population from exploding and destroying themselves and the vegetation.

MY MEMORIES OF WANKIE GAME RESERVE – WANKIE NATIONAL PARK – HWANGE NATIONAL PARK

In the late 1940 early 1950.
Mr and Mrs Davidson (Ted and Connie) were great friends of my family and we were lucky enough to spend time with them in the Wankie Game Reserve. We would stay in one of the little thatched rondavels. Going for game drives, I would sit in the back of Mr Davidson’s vehicle with his sons and we loved going to Dom pan or on to Nyamanhlovu pan.

Nyamandlovu Pan

At both of these pans there were windmills which would pump water into to troughs which would over flow, creating pans. The windmills had to be protected as the elephant would push them over when they were not working looking for the fresh water. This was done by 2 huge trenches dug around the windmill. On the one at Nyamanhlovu a platform was built so one could sit up there on a full moon night and see the animals come down to drink. It was very exciting, but quite frightening.

Leadwood Tree at Dom Pan

We would also go and feed Beadle (a resident crocodile). Beadle got the name from Sir Hugh Bead, who was the Chief Magistrate of Bulawayo. Sir Hugh was given three newly hatched crocodiles to keep in his fish pond in Bulawayo.
They grew well but found the pond too small so Sir Hugh gave them to Ted to put in Nyamanlovu pan.
Being so small they had to be fed and this carried on for many years. I am not sure what happened to 2 of them but it ended up with just the one, known for years as Beadle. Feeding became dangerous as Beadle got bigger, he felt that the person bringing the food was a nicer meal that the piece of meat, and so it eventually had to stop. The research team monitored him regularly, darting him to measure him etc. I am not sure but I think it was in the 1970 that they decided Beadle was a female. I was in the Park in 2010, there was a huge crocodile still at Nyamanhlovu which I felt could still be Lady Beadle which would now make her approx. 70 years old.
The end of 1966 – 1967. Six short months.
Wankie National Park had grown. It was no longer known as a game reserve but had become a National Park. The Game department had amalgamated with National Parks and so was now known as The Department of National Parks and Wildlife Management.
There was now a tourist office combined with the main admin office, a restaurant, a camping/ caravan place and chalets plus 2 lodges, Sable and Impala. The Regional Warden had his own little hut as his office, in front of the single staff accommodation. The Davidson’s house was much bigger than the other houses and more houses had to be built for staff. There was now an air strip made in the vlei in front of the houses. Planes would fly in daily bringing tourist. These would be met by the Tourist officer and taken to their different accommodation. To then be taken later on game drives.

Ted Davidson's House

There were many new roads made for game drives. The windmills were slowly being replaces by diesel pumps so more places in the Park had pans that were being pumped daily, during the dry season. This would entail usually 2 people or else husband and wife teams living at the pans in a hut keeping the diesel pumps going. There was a regular truck taking fuel around to the different places approximately every ten days to two weeks. This same truck would take rations for the people as well as spares parts for the pumps. If they could they would fix the engine themselves but if unsuccessful it would them be reported and the mechanic would then go out himself.
There were 2 drivers (Munwerei, Maneni) who were amazing and would take the 5 ton Bedford through unbelievably thick sand without getting stuck or else over terrible tracks. They knew what they were doing,
Farms had been bought and there was now Robin’s camp at the north end of the Park and Sinamatella was being built. It was the policy of National Parks that camps would be built on the periphery of the park and not in the centre.
The management unit was based at Sharpi in tent this was moved later to pole and dagger huts upon a ridge.
1972 – 1982
The Park kept growing. Two rows of staff house had been built, a new Provincial Wardens house built, plus a big compound with houses for all staff, more lodges were being built and a lovely big restaurant with VIP lounge, The Waterbuck’s Head bar, craft shop and a small super market with basic food , cold drinks and lots of Ice, for sale. The old restaurant did become a library/museum during the war.
The Park was split up into different areas. Wilderness area where 4x4 driven vehicles could go and people were allowed to camp in designated area and do walks, Forrest areas.
Controlled hunting safaris were started up in the north western area along the out skirts of the park.
Southern Sun had been given permission to build a luxury hotel at the top end of the Dete Vlei. A new international airport was completed so no longer planes would land at Main Camp. This accommodated 2 flights daily from Harare, to Vic Falls via Kariba and Wankie, flying back again in the afternoon. (Reversing the flight in the afternoon)
All camps would get electricity. A very big reservoir was built for water for Main Camp, and one at Sinamatella.
Sharpi management camp was moved to Umtishibi with new houses for staff, plus a big work shop, storerooms, holding pens and a small airstrip, for the management team. Big fire guards were cut on the edge of the Park and throughout the Park. This consisted of 2 parallel graded tracks cut and the area in between burnt. These were maintained every year.
Culling operation was carried out, gully and soil erosion done plus other conservation work.
Picnic sites were built where people could alight from their vehicle and rest or have a meal. The children could run around and make a noise. Clean water laid on plus ablutions blocks built. Later one was allowed to spend the night at these different places for a small fee.

The main restaurant and bar.

By Kate Reese

MATOPOS

We were stationed at Matopas from 1st May 1967 to 31st December 1970, so I was just 4 years old when we started there. Mum started teaching me in 1969 via correspondence, and every morning we would listen to our teacher give a lesson on the radio and then Mum would go through it with us and we would have to send our work in weekly. We used to take lessons in a little stone gazebo that had a bougainvillea growing over it, by the pool. (Our house has since burnt down and has been re-built). The only story I remember of Mum teaching me, was being pulled over the gazebo wall as there was a snake hanging from the bougainvillea. The maid, “Maggie”, thought that Mum was murdering me – as she came running out the house, which was quite a feat, as she was rather large, to investigate what was happening.
Mum used to call Karen and me “rock rabbits”, as we used to love climbing the rocks. Our house was situated up against the rocks and had a view of Pomangwe, a huge granite rock in front of us. We used to love climbing the rocks following the pipeline at 5.00pm to go and meet Dad as he finished work. I believe that Mark Williams and I got stuck in a crevice of rocks and Dad had to get us out by rope. There was a gap in some rocks behind the tourist office which led to the tennis courts. We used brace ourselves to run through to get to the tennis courts and swings, as there was a monitor lizard that lived in the crack and he used to hiss at us, which terrified our little souls. As you can see from the pictures we were wee little girls.

One of our favourite past time – fishing
From where the rest camp and staff houses where, there was a steep hill down to Maleme Dam, and I remember the parks tractor going down the hill and his brakes failed him and he went straight into the dam. I was always scared going down in a vehicle after that. Dad also used to hold my arms and drop me down the side of the dam wall to measure the height of the water.
Dad was the responsible to the building of Fish Eagle and Black Eagle Lodges which has a beautiful view over the spillway, which was a crevice filled with huge granite boulders. Whilst hammering a nail in the roof he hammered his nail, and Mum got him some liquid paraffin and he held his thumb in that for 20 minutes to get rid of the throbbing – it worked!!

Not that I remember too much of Matopas, we did enjoy the freedom of being able to climb the rocks and explore. I know my poor sister had a hard time keeping up, but she made sure she managed!!

DURING THE RHODESIAN WAR

SATURDAY 29 AUGUST 1977
Second ambush in Park about 200 metres from previous ambush – occurred about 16:10

TUESDAY 27 DECEMBER 1977
Ambush on road to Shumba – somewhere between White Hills and Shapi. Beyond Shapi about 4kms.

It was a scary time for us children being between the ages of 14 and 11. We had huge grenade screens put up outside our bedrooms windows that were filled with granite chips for about ¾’s of the way up. About 1½ metres from the main bedroom window they had built a wall about ¾’s of the way up and then chicken mesh from there to the roof. In front of our entire glass doors on the verandah we had “Trojan horses” (these were wooden boxes on wheels filled with granite chips). The verandah was also enclosed in chicken mesh, and this was an ideal place for me for keep my budgie. During the day we went about our exploring without much thought for the war, but night times was fearful for me. I would be convinced that there would be terrorists sitting in the trees and they could see me from above the granite chips and were going to shoot me. If I was really scared then I would creep into the passage and grab a sleeping bag and go and sleep on the floor at the foot of Mum and Dad’s bed. I felt safe there as Dad had a revolver by his side of the bed.

Some nights though I would jump into my sister’s bed and hug her tightly and talk to her. Our conversation would go something like this:
“Did you hear that noise?” me
“Yes I did.” Karen
“What do you think it was?” me
“I don’t know.” Karen
“Can you repeat the noise?” me
Silence – then I knew that she was talking to me in her sleep and I would just hug her tighter in the hope that sleep would come back to me and the noises would go away!

When I got a little older, I was allowed to have to room at the end of the house, which was normally the guest room. I put all my toys in there and decorated for myself, BUT, I never spent one night in there, I always slept in the middle room with my sister, as I was just too scared.

Mum also decided that the spaces on the ground between the wall and the chicken mesh would be a good place to breed rabbits to sell to the staff in camp, and they would make the most awful noises during the night which would add to the idea that there were definitely terrorists out there in the dead of night.

We had am agric-alert radio in our house and there was one in the house behind us which was linked to all the farmers in the Gwaai area, which was about 35kms away. So when the alarm went off at night it set our hearts racing as you were never sure if it was right behind you or one of the farmers, as we had not learnt everyone’s call signs.

Our trips to and from Bulawayo we were supposed to join in a convoy from the Gwaai Hotel, which had an armed vehicle in the fron, the rear and one in the middle. Unfortunately, our vehicle could not always go the speed that the convoy went at, so we would go it alone, which was not always wise, because if you broke down then no-one from a convoy or individual would stop and help you. I would spend most of the 3 hour journey holding my thumbs.

Thankfully we were left alone at Main Camp, even though there were a lot of ambushes along the Victoria Falls/Bulawayo road and also in the National Park. I think we were quite lucky having the wild animals around us. There were siting’s of suspicious boot prints around Sadina pan which was at one end of the airfield, and they tracked them to the compound, but we never found them. Dad did have an informer, Umfigaroro, who would listen in to conversations of movements etc. and then let Dad know. When we had left Hwange and moved back to the Gwaai area we used to go and visit him at his home kraal and take him oil, mealie meal and sugar. In exchange he would give us baskets, drums or other items that they had made. When we left the young children of the village would love to jump on the back of the bakkie and get a ride to the end of the road.