Bangweulu: Where Big is Beautiful

Bangweulu

Where Big is Beautiful

Writer: Nicky Dunnington-Jefferson Photography: Nicky Dunnington-Jefferson, Frank Willems

Somewhere in the remote watery wastes of northern Zambia’s Bangweulu Wetlands, an immense area of some 15,000 square kilometres and always known to me as the Bangweulu Swamps, lives an avian giant: the shoebill. I had pored over maps of Zambia for years, and listened spellbound as a friend described the spectacle laid out beneath the wings of his ‘plane as he flew over lake and grassland, woodland and river.

The Bangweulu Wetlands form the heart of the Great Bangweulu Basin but the wetlands do not consist solely of an aquatic wilderness. It is true that Lake Bangweulu forms part of this seemingly limitless expanse, an area which floods in the wet season between November and March and is fed by 17 rivers but drained by only one, the Luapula. But here too is miombo woodland…and grassland plains with shimmering horizons, giving succour to land animals which must adapt when their home range is seasonally flooded.

Bangweulu means ‘the place where the water meets the sky’; and it was here that I must go to search for shoebills… but how? Leslie Nevison of Lusaka-based Mama Tembo Tours had the answer. To fulfil my wish to explore the shoebill’s domain she organised a four-wheel-drive vehicle as transport, plus the services of a wonderful guide, Zambian artist Quentin Allen.

Since 2008 African Parks, in partnership with the Zambian Department of National Parks and Wildlife (DNPW) and Community Resource Boards (CRBs), has administered this community-owned ecosystem under the title of the Bangweulu Wetland Management Board. I visited in 2016, when, unlike now, Shoebill Island Camp was operational. At that time the camp was administered by the Kasanka Trust. However, shortly after my visit, African Parks took over managing the camp and at the time of writing it is closed and undergoing a complete overhaul following plans to upgrade the accommodation.

There are two ways to reach Shoebill Island: by air or road. There is a small airstrip called Chimbwe near Chikuni, or you drive. We drove from Kasanka National Park and our journey was memorable. Initially, we headed towards Lake Waka Waka on a pretty bad road, stopping at the campsite there to admire the deep-blue and springwater-fed lake. We then turned sharp left, towards Chiundaponde. The road was appalling, with cavernous potholes, and it took all of Quentin’s driving skills to keep

us on track. But it was when we arrived at Muwele that things began to go awry: there were no signs anywhere. Eventually, after many questions as to which road to take to Chikuni, we reached a National Parks office. After paying the necessary fee we proceeded, but still no signs. Eventually, we saw grasslands stretching as far as the eye could see, but with no indication of where to go. There was a causeway in front of us, and we made the mistake of driving to the right of this, landing up in the middle of a herd of black lechwe. On we drove, eventually reaching some huts. Luckily someone appeared—Lewis from Shoebill Camp—who told us to retrace our steps, keep to the left of the causeway and we would come to Chikuni Research Post. And indeed we did.

Leaving the vehicle at Chikuni, we walked the short distance to one of the channels along which Lewis and his colleague, the splendidly named Tarzan, would pole us by canoe to the camp. The light was beautiful as we moved slowly along the waterways, passing exquisite white and blue water lilies and prolific birdlife including spoonbill, squacco heron, wattled crane and lesser jacana. Upon arrival at Shoebill Island Camp I was shown to my accommodation: a large tent with attached shower and loo facilities. Dinner was served in a separate building nearby, and afterwards I returned to my tent, marvelling at the myriads of incredible stars above. During the night I heard hyenas (spotted hyenas who prey on lechwe—there are no big cats here); and in the small hours what sounded to me like the multiple flushing of lots of loos – it was lechwe in the water, crossing from one side to the other. Sadly, I never managed to catch this spectacle on camera as they were too far away.

The next day, in the early morning chill, after tea and biscuits followed by a good breakfast, we returned to Chikuni by boat, collected the vehicle and set off in search of shoebills, accompanied by Lewis and Tarzan. Vehicle tracks were barely visible on the very dry ground and I wondered where on earth we were heading, but we had met up with some fishermen who told us that shoebills had been seen in the vicinity. Undoubtedly the best way to try and spot a shoebill is from on high. So, in the middle of seemingly nowhere, but with a solitary sausage tree and some bushes breaking up the flat landscape, Lewis instructed Quentin to stop the vehicle...and then promptly shinned up the tree. Tarzan scrambled up a bush, and between them they located a shoebill. In fact we were not far from a swampy area, a favourite haunt of the shoebill, which makes its home deep in the papyrus-thick vegetation.

The shoebill (Balaeniceps rex), is a big, heavy blue-grey bird, weighing anything between four to seven kilogrammes. Its outstanding feature is its huge bill, hence the name. It also has bright yellow eyes and noticeably large feet. Shoebills are slow-moving birds, stalking their prey with deliberate tread and often remaining completely still, awaiting the right moment to strike. Their preferred diet is fish, and in the Bangweulu Swamps it has been specifically noted that catfish and water snakes are fed to their young. Food is regurgitated straight from the gullet of the adult into the bill of the chick, and both parents guard and care for their nestlings, of which usually only one reaches full maturity although the female may lay between one and three eggs. listed as Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species. These handsome animals sport shoe-polish-shiny thick coats and are only found in this region of northern Zambia; in 2015 their numbers were estimated at around 49,000. Their hooves are designed for ease of passage in water, being elongated and spreading. The animals propel themselves through the water, pushing off in leaps from their strong hind legs which are longer than the front legs, maximising the length of each single leap. Only the males have horns. This subspecies of lechwe is as much at home in the water as on land and they are an important feature of the Bangweulu region.

We also went looking for the Bangweulu tsessebe (Damaliscus lunatus ssp. superstes). These antelope are endemic to the termitaria, a unique habitat of short grassland plains dotted with thousands of tiny forest patches growing on the large mounds built by termite colonies. We were in luck, coming across a big herd (maybe as many as 400) of these very shy but impressive animals, their coppery colours making them look like bronze sculptures. I noticed that some individuals appeared to be shedding their winter coats. These antelope are one of six subspecies of topi and are known for their remarkable speed. The Bangweulu population is completely isolated from any other tsessebe or topi populations (none occur within some 500 kilometres in any direction) and indeed genetic studies suggest it might even be treated as a separate species.

That evening I met the exceptionally knowledgeable Frank Willems, who had flown in with two keen birdwatchers. Frank is an ecologist, birder and private guide, and he and I struck up good conversation. Once Frank learnt that I was genuinely interested in wildlife he couldn’t do enough to help me, producing creatures for me to inspect and photograph. These included a splendid olive marsh snake, a grassland ridged frog and a marbled snout-burrower—another species of frog.

I had one more day left and went down to the water early to watch as dawn slowly broke and flocks of birds flew over—dark swirling shapes silhouetted against the lightening sky. Before the sun came up I watched young boys fishing from a mokoro (dugout canoe, plural mekoro), then, as the sun hoisted itself over the horizon, the water became suffused in a lengthening orange glow. Quentin was quietly sketching. The question: what to do today? The answer: look for more shoebills.

We followed the same procedure, again accompanied by Lewis and Tarzan. And this time Frank and his two clients came with us. As we drove along the side of the swamp Frank was the first to spot a huge head poking out of the thick vegetation.

The shoebill is fully geared towards energy efficiency and will typically wait for hours for the perfect large catfish to come up to the surface to breathe; a catch such as this could provide a sufficient meal to satisfy the bird for a whole day. Their commonly reported preference for lungfish seems a myth created by early European explorers.

However, shoebills will also consume frogs and other small wetland creatures, but usually only when large catfish do not present themselves or when feeding their young forces them to be less selective. Bangweulu means ‘the place where the water meets the sky’

Shoebill located, we drove to the edge of the swamp. Lewis and Tarzan waded in to recce the scene, returning to summon us in, too. I was wearing Wellingtons, but at the first step the water was way over the top of them. We were walking on floating vegetation, and progress was laborious.

After struggling along for about quarter of an hour, suddenly, about 200 metres away, we spotted a tall, gigantic bird—my longheld shoebill wish was realised at last. I was so excited but it was difficult trying to stand still on what felt like a waterbed. I balanced my camera on Tarzan’s shoulder, clicked away and hoped for the best. Quentin thought it was all too wonderful and promptly lay down spread-eagled, declaring that he wasn’t moving. How I regret not taking a photo but I was too busy trying to balance. Eventually, shoebill-satiated, we made our way back, and I clung to Tarzan’s hand to try and stay upright.

The rest of the day was spent in wet, soggy socks but I didn’t care. In Bangweulu there is other wildlife to seek out besides shoebills, and after we left their swampy habitat we headed for the grasslands and the prolific herds of endemic black lechwe (Kobus leche ssp. smithemani),

The shoebill took off before I could focus properly, but it was wonderful to see the great bird and its characteristic flight pattern, long legs dangling and clearly visible. Again Lewis managed to identify a shoebill in the swamps from a tree, but by the time he and Tarzan had plunged in to try to find it the bird had taken flight. But we saw five birds in all today, flying high above the papyrus, and I was well pleased with our tally. Writer’s note: I would like to thank Frank Willems for his invaluable input and help in checking the facts and figures for this article.

There were very few tsessebe when we returned to the termitaria woodland region, but we did come across two Denham’s bustard (also known as Stanley’s bustard), a lovely big bird with attractive coloration. Bangweulu is a superb place for birds, and the density and diversity of species quite unparalleled. The list is long but ‘specials’ include wattled crane (15% of the world’s population), blue-breasted bee-eater, swamp flycatcher, African skimmer, lesser jacana, and vast numbers of herons, storks, spoonbills and ducks, as well as four species of vulture. Barely a second passes without sight of a bird somewhere…

My shoebill safari was at an end. It had been all I’d wished for…and more. Before we left, I sat down with Frank Willems and asked him a few questions. I wanted to know roughly how many shoebills were to be found in Bangweulu, and he told me around 400, possibly less, and that they are classified as Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List. What was the greatest threat to their survival? He replied, ‘Poaching for the pet trade is the core threat for shoebills globally. The shoebill is the rhino of the birds as far as illegal trade is concerned.’ He went on, ‘the principal market for shoebills removed from the wild are private zoos—for instance in the Middle East—as well as historically in zoos throughout Europe and the US.’

Yes, I thought, this extraordinary, almost prehistoric-looking bird would certainly attract interest in captivity. But that’s not where it belongs. Its home is in marshes, reed beds and papyrus-rich swamplands of the countries in which it is found— primarily the Sudd region of South Sudan, Uganda, and here in the wonderful wild wetlands of Zambia—in Bangweulu—where big is certainly very beautiful in the eye of this beholder.

Photo Captions Previous: Young boy with net at sunrise Below, Left Top: Male black lechwe

Below, Left Bottom: As evening approaches, a young boy poles along in a laden mokoro

Below, Right: Photograph courtesy of Frank Willems