Wilkinson's World

A few things are needed to visit Brukkaros today – a 4×4 vehicle (if you want to camp at any of the upper campsites), a sturdy pair of legs and a head for heights.  These will ensure that you get the most from your visit to this beautiful and geologically fascinating spot.  We were the first to arrive there on Good Friday, so were able to claim the best campsite with views over the flat and endless plains looking towards the little village of Berseba, with the upper rim of Brukkaros forming a dramatic backdrop behind us.

It is recommended that you hike the mountain with guides from the local community, but there were none around when we arrived, so we had to do the five and a half hour walk on our own.  There are various hiking options – a strenuous walk around the rim up to the remains of a long-gone research station – or an equally strenuous walk down onto the floor of the caldera.  We opted for the rim walk and shortly after setting out we stopped for a while to watch a pair of Verreaux’s eagles catching the thermals in the valley.  They were later joined by some Black-chested snake eagles that spent quite a bit of time skimming the cliff face in search of food.

The first view of the caldera was amazing – a perfect basin, three kilometers in diameter, with a grassy plain dotted with rocks and quiver trees.  Traces of river beds were marked by dark green trees, looking remarkably like veins on the landscape as they made their way down to the gap in the valley where water escaped the caldera over a waterfall, to tumble down into two pools below the mountain.

Brukkaros should be nicknamed “the crystal mountain” because all along the way you see crystals glittering in the rocks or lying on the ground.  Along the path the rocks themselves are an amazing sight – some of them the colour of dark red ox blood (these are called carbonatite) and others dark brown.  The floor of the caldera is covered in very hard rock called breccia, scattered with quartz crystals.

After a couple of hours of steady climbing and battling the long grass along a barely visible path, we arrived at the ruins, which Rob measured to be at an altitude of 1515m.  We were fascinated by a building constructed partly by blasting deep into the rocky mountainside – with rusty bars in the window area it looked just like a prison.  We have subsequently found out that it housed a solar observatory set up in 1926 by the National Geographic Society in co-operation with the Smithsonian Insitute.

The views from the rim of the crater at this point (about 564 meters above the Berseba plains) are magnificent – confirming a small painted sign propped up on a rock that read: “View of the World!”

Before leaving Brukkaros early the next morning, we took a short walk back along the path, armed with cameras and binoculars and waited for the Verreaux’s eagles and Black-chested snake eagles to make their appearance.  Right on cue they left their nests and took to the thermals, giving us a wonderful display and a fitting send-off from their beautiful mountain.

 

The Grey go-away bird, previously called the Grey lourie, is very distinctive, being about 50 cm in length and all grey in colour.  It has an impressive grey crest that it raises often; the eyes, bill, legs and feet are all black.  It is certainly the least colourful of the southern African turacos (previously called louries), most of which are clothed in magnificent greens, reds and purples.  The sexes are alike in both size and plumage.

It is an agile climber and is often found clambering through the canopy as it looks for the fruit, leaves, flowers and insects on which it feeds.  Occasionally it will descend to feed on the ground.  At night it may be found roosting in small groups.

The Grey go-away bird is monogamous and builds a flimsy platform of twigs as a nest, and does not line this with any soft material, usually locating the nest high up in a thorny tree.  The female lays a clutch of two or three eggs that hatch after an incubation period of about 28 days.

The scientific name for the Grey go-away bird is Corythaixoides concolor; Corythaixoides from the Latin for “like corythaix” (referring to Tauraco corythaix – the Knysna turaco) and concolor from the Latin for uniformly coloured.  Well, it certainly is uniformly coloured, and in shape and size it is similar to the Knysna turaco, so I guess the name is pretty accurate.

 

 

We have visited “Vendetta” a number of times and the only water present along the otherwise dry course of the Black Nossob has been two relatively small dams, steadily shrinking in volume over the past two years.  Until the rains came at the end of 2010.  At first the rain had little impact, but it rained regularly and heavily through the first three months of 2011, bringing several times the average annual rainfall in just a few months, and eventually the Black Nossob began to flow.  The two dams on “Vendetta” became submerged as the water rose and what we had seen on previous visits as dry veld became a fast flowing river.

Trees that had stood for the past few years in the dry bushveld were suddenly in the midst of water a metre or more deep.  And in a surprisingly short time after the river began to flow, the water birds arrived.  Surprising, not just because they found this “new” river and congregated here from who knows where, but because with so much surface water in the rest of Namibia due to the widespread rains, they arrived at this particular spot in such numbers.

A variety of herons and other water birds took up residence in a small group of large trees that were now surrounded by water, and within a few weeks had established a nesting colony that was crowded with crude stick nests typical of the herons, and bustling with adults coming and going with nesting materials and food for the growing number of chicks.  The two trees which housed the major portion of the heronry are very exposed, surrounded as they are by open water, but Jane and I were able to drift slowly and quietly past in a kayak to get a fairly close look at the birds.  We didn’t want to approach too closely, because it was clear that some  of the adult birds were incubating eggs and others were tending to young chicks, and they were obviously quite nervous of any activity too nearby.

It was very difficult to take photographs from the kayak because of the choppy water (the wind was blowing quite strongly) and the lack of any way that we could anchor the kayak in one spot.  Most of the photographs shown here were therefore taken from well away from the heronry, whilst standing in water that was over a metre deep and flowing quite briskly.

We were able to identify a surprising variety of birds from that single spot – African spoonbills, Little egrets, Cattle egrets, Squacco  herons, Black-crowned night herons, Grey herons, Reed cormorants, Great egrets and two species that are seldom found in this area, the Glossy ibis and Black heron.  In the same vicinity, but not actually nesting in the herony, we saw Blacksmith lapwings, Red-knobbed coots, Red-billed teals and Egyptian geese.  All these water birds nesting, breeding and raising families in an area that was dry bushveld just a few weeks ago!  Absolutely astounding!

Grateful thanks to Adri and Marie-Anne for a wonderful weekend and the opportunity to photograph these magnificent birds.

The Yellow-breasted apalis is small, just about 12 cm in length, with the males being slightly larger than the females.  They are olive green above, with a white throat and white belly separated by a broad yellow band.  Some of the races have a central black breast band at the lower edge of the yellow, but this may be poorly developed or missing in the females.  Their crowns and the sides of their faces are grey and they have long, graduated tails.  Their eyes are red, bills are grey and legs and feet are pinkish-brown.

Usually found in pairs or small family groups, the Yellow-breasted apalis feeds mainly on insects and insect larvae which it gleans from the leaves of trees, often joining mixed bird parties and often frequenting the tree canopies while it feeds.

The males and females call as a duet, often from a high perch in the early morning.  The males call “krunk-krunk-krunk” and the females respond “krik-krik-krik“.  There is, however, a great deal of variability in the calls of different pairs, even within the same area.

The Yellow-breasted apalis is monogamous and builds a hanging nest, often made of lichen that is bound together with spider web.  Usually lined with spider web or soft grass, it is shaped like a ball and has a side entrance located near the top.  The females lay a clutch of two or three eggs that hatch after an incubation period of approximately 15 days.

The scientific binomial for the Yellow-breasted apalis is Apalis falvida; Apalis from the Greek for soft and flavida from the Latin for pale yellow.  Thus we have a soft, pale yellow bird which is not a bad description of this cheerful little bird.

 

 

And nowhere do those red clay roads speak louder to me than in the Kalahari.  This is the land of moody skies, red dunes and waving green grasses that fill the valleys between the dunes.  It’s the land of camel thorn trees and shimmering mirages.  A quiet place, with only the occasional howl of jackals or lions to break the silence of the night, or birds chirping in the bushes during the day.  In certain areas one hardly ever sees another car, so the peace is enveloping and does wonders for the soul.

At the end of the day Africa gives you the gift of wonder as you watch the sun drop down slowly from a pastel pink sky.  There’s nothing better than a Kalahari sunset, viewed from atop a dune, after having taken a game drive and spotted oryx, springbok, a couple of lions and some kudu nibbling on the bushes.

We recently stayed at the Suricate Tented Camp in the Kalahari – a birthday treat for Rob.  Oh the bliss to wake up and gaze out over the water-filled pans whilst a Blue wildebeest walks casually past our tent.  It’s these moments in Africa that draw you back time and time again.

In case you’re wondering what makes the dunes of the Kalahari that beautiful red colour – it’s because the sand has very high concentrates of iron oxide.

The rains in Namibia have been particularly good this year, so the grasses have flourished.  They contrast superbly with the dramatic dunes and the photographic opportunities are endless, not only with the scenery, but the animals, birds and insects as well.  Be sure to check out our blog about the Cape cobra raiding a Sociable weavers nest – we saw this amazing spectacle on this same trip to the Kalahari.

If the Kalahari hasn’t touched your soul yet, perhaps you should pay it a visit and give it a chance to work its magic!