They say
this migration is one of the 7 new Wonders of the World. For now, I can merely rave about the raw power I witnessed, as
thousands of wildebeest stampeded through the Mara River. Nothing quite
prepares you for this visual spectacle.
The stage on
which this show is set is loosely termed the Mara Ecosystem, pretty much
defined by the dominant migration. The principle players are the (approx) 1.5 - 2 million wildebeest, supporting roles from 350,000 gazelles and about 200,000 zebras. These wildebeest are predated upon by the lions, hyenas, leopards, cheetahs who await
the annual coming of the migration with eager anticipation
Thousands and thousands of
wildebeest scattered across the plains, muster up the courage and slowly form lines as they
channel towards the imminent river crossing points. These crossings are the
most dangerous stages for the migrating wildebeest, with the river current
often sweeping the animals downriver and into the opportunistic jowls of the
waiting crocodiles.
Now is as
good as any a time to introduce our driver and guide, Sammy boy! He has been
leading the Park Safaris for over 20 years He was our go-to safari man for his encyclopaedic knowledge, his eye for spotting game and his wealth of
anecdotes about each and every park in Kenya. He was a tall man, with a sunny smile and a great sense of humour :D Suddenly the
now-familiar ringtone of Sammy’s phone crackles with static, within seconds Sam
accelerates across the plains, bouncing up and down over the land. We had no
idea what was going on. It turned out that the wildebeest were clustered around
the river’s cliff side edge, and primed to cross. The walkie
talkies were ablaze with excited chatter, Sam, unlatched the roof of our jeep
so that we had an unobstructed view of the grasslands around us, we
exchange bemused looks amongst ourselves, listening to Sammy’s Yoda-like
responses :D
After a few
minutes, we caught sight of the flowing muddy waters of the river – perhaps 15
metres wide at that point. The river was flanked either side by crumbling dusty
cliffs. Amongst the trees that populated the riverbank, 8-10 jeeps and
minibuses jostled for prime viewing points on the river’s edge. Sammy expertly
weaved his way through a great vantage point. He turned the engine off, and we
gazed at a group of wildebeest huddled around the cliff edge towards our right
side – impatiently shoving and pushing each other. The wildebeest at the front
peered precariously over the edge to the swirling torrent beneath. Crocodiles
floated under the surface, vultures circled above opportunistically and
downstream the chewed carcasses of the dead wildebeest had been washed ashore.
The jungle flies were all around us buzzing most irritated
As the
minutes passed, more and more wildebeest arrived at the cliff top, with the group
at the front struggling to resist the relentless pushing from behind. And then
suddenly there was a burst of activity. The first wildebeest could resist no
more, and was pushed over the edge, beyond the point of no return. Plumes of
dust shot into the air, as the wildebeest accelerated down the steep cliff and
then through the rushing water of the river. It jumped up and down through a
cloud of white splashing water, fighting against the current of the river, nervous and crazy with fear. And
barely after about 15 seconds of intense activity and panic, it finally emerged
at the other end safely yet exhausted. Within those few moments, the calm of the
river had become a mass of churning white water with the first wildebeest
providing the catalyst for a line of followers, one after the others,
accelerating through the water with their lives dependent on it.
On the near
side of the river, the successful crossers stood panting, shaking off the
excess water from their sodden coats, and peered back watching out for friends
and family
.
.
We saw a 100% safe crossing, no 1 beast got swept downstream. Watching
from the side seemed like a sick voyeurism – picking out who would survive and
who wouldn't Darwinism was playing out in front of our very eyes. And after a
flurry of activity – no longer than 15 minutes in all – calm returned to the
river. I found myself clapping happily seeing all the animals had safely crossed
over, not a single injury or any other incidence. Some in the car lamented the
fact that they wish had seen a kill (crocodile) – am glad I didn't.
The rivers
and indeed the few isolated lakes in the African Savannah, are terrifying to
the wildebeest firstly because of the animals’ fear of the water itself and the
creatures it may hide, and secondly because water generally means vegetation,
and thickets that may conceal predators. Yet the wildebeest have an inherent
instinct to trek in a certain direction at any cost – despite their
terror. It was just another stage albeit a major part of an otherwise
perilous journey, for the wildebeest. This below image was provided by our Korean friends who saw yet another day (after we left) of the great migration
Wildebeest
arrive at the Mara River in their tens of thousands, and gather waiting to
cross. For days their numbers can be building up and anticipation grows but
many times, for no apparent reason, they turn and wander away from the water’s
edge. Eventually the wildebeest will choose a crossing point, something that
can vary from year to year and cannot be predicted with any accuracy. Usually
the chosen point will be a fairly placid stretch of water without too much
predator-concealing vegetation in the far side, although occasionally they will
choose seemingly suicidal places and drown in their hundreds.
We lived our
dream trip, saw this beautiful great migration. We are richer and blessed for it. I can continue to dream about it for a long time to come.