If you grew up in a nature-loving home, chances are pretty good that at some point during your childhood you would have dreamed of one day becoming a game ranger. I sure did and so did Guillaume. In fact, so strong was Guillaume’s calling that he actually had his aunt knit him a make-shift SANParks uniform – a green jersey, bearing the famous kudu-logo – see pic below :)
Well, 20-odd years down the line and neither of us pursued that particular path in life. But, boy do we still love visiting our country’s incredible array of national parks, game reserves and wilderness areas.
We can only imagine how much hard work and energy goes into maintaining these last outposts of paradise and, today on World Ranger Day 2016, we salute the khaki-clad men and women who have dedicated their lives to keeping our vulnerable wildlife safe.
Here’s a little anecdote celebrating their courage… especially in dealing with the OTHER side of their duties.
While I’m sure there are plenty of species with whom rangers dread having a close encounter, I suspect there is only one that really gives them the heebie-jeebies: humans.
I mean, can you imagine having to satisfy the game viewing needs of snap-happy safari-goers in an environment you have zero control over?
An avid safari-goer myself, I’ve been on enough guided game drives to know how unrealistic the demands of some people can be… and how gracefully the rangers (at least the one’s I’ve encountered) deal with them.
One of my favourite examples of this took place during a night drive in the Kruger National Park a couple of years ago. My family and I were staying in Pretoriuskop rest camp during the June/July school holidays and decided to treat ourselves to a bit of an outing as a break from our usual self-drive game viewing.
After handing over our indemnity forms, our guide introduced himself as Ishmael/Isaac – whichever we preferred – and ushered us onto the open safari vehicle with a bunch of other guests.
It was that magical hour just before dusk and everyone was in high spirits. We all felt it in or bones – tonight was going to be a good night for game viewing.
Isaac/Ishmael settled into his seat – which we later found, squeaked every time he turned around to address us – and off we went, engine purring pleasantly as the chill air kissed our cheeks and made us blush.
It was so thrilling – the smell of the bush, the red fire-ball sunset, the hushed tones of birds turning in for the night – nobody cared that we hadn’t spotted anything other than skittish guineafowl during the first few kilometres of the drive.
However, when – about an hour in – we still hadn’t seen anything more exciting than a confused impala, Isaac/Ishmael decided to delve deep into his treasure trove of bushveld trivia and turn our waning attention toward other interesting things.
He stopped suddenly and pointed the spotlight toward a stretch of gravel to our right. We all shifted over excitedly and peered. This had to be something really good, what with the sharp break and all.
Isaac/Ishmael cleared his throat and turned around in his squeaky seat.
“Do you see that road?” he asked. “Well, that road is no longer in use…” and so he started spinning a fascinating yarn. I can no longer remember what it was he told us, but I do remember the way I sat listening absolutely spell-bound.
The vehicle roared back to life and off we went into the moonless night.
A few minutes later we came to another sudden dead stop, which inspired the same excitement as the last.
But when Isaac/Ishmael cleared his throat and turned around peacefully in his squeaky seat, I knew this was no lion kill.
“This tree,” he said, “is a Marula tree. Now, when the marula fruit get too ripe they fall off and ferment in the sun. Baboons come by and eat them and then get very drunk.”
He laughed. We laughed. He laughed a little louder. Which in turn, made us laugh even louder.
“They also make a veeeery nice beer from this tree. You can buy it in the shop. It’s called Amarula.”
With this, he unceremoniously turned back around and started up the engine again.
And so the night drive progressed, Isaac/Ishmael stopping ever so often to point out the little things – the ones we always tend to overlook in our search for the big, the impressive and the shareable.
Although my family and I have been on far more sighting-rich game drives following this particularly ‘slow’ night, the experience we had with Isaac/Ishmael is by far the most memorable. He pops up in our conversations ever so often and we regularly reminisce about the way he turned a boring drive into an evening of entertaining anecdotes.
So, thank you Isaac/Ishmael, as well as all the other rangers out there, for caring as much about the little things as you do about the big ones… and sharing your enthusiasm for nature with us when you get the chance.
Happy World Ranger Day!
Words: Nadia Krige
Photos: Guillaume Marais (and dad!)