SAFARI: The Ultimate Shore Excursion

SAFARI origin late 19th cent.: from Kiswahili, from Arabic safara ‘to travel.’

A safari is the ultimate shore excursion. The challenge in combining a safari and a cruise is that there isn’t enough capacity for a cruise line to offer a first-class safari to all her guests. Unlike Port Said where taking 400 passengers to the Pyramids is quite doable, the best safari lodges can rarely accommodate more than 30 travelers. Consequently, most Oceania passengers coming to Africa won’t take a traditional three or four night African safari unless they do it pre or post cruise, or plan it themselves while the ship is in transit.

While I was a little disappointed to miss three nights aboard Nautica, I didn’t want to take my parents and Casey to Africa without enjoying a first rate safari. Not knowing quite what to expect, I was a little nervous about the camp, game viewing and accommodations. I shouldn’t have been. Our destination, Kirkman’s, proved to be superior in every way.

Kirkman’s is a 7,400-acre private reserve located at the southern end of Sabi Sands, considered by many to be the best of South Africa or even all of Africa’s game parks. Although there are no fences between Kruger and Sabi Sands, the advantage of Sabi Sands being a private reserve is that the vehicles can travel off road, animal sightings are generally limited to two vehicles at a time and the rangers constantly communicate where the animals are. It’s common for guests to see all the Big Five (cape buffalo, elephant, lion, leopard and rhino) in addition to giraffes, cheetah, zebra, impala, baboons and a wide variety of birds in a single visit. I’ve been to Kenya on safari three times and didn’t get a close look at a leopard until the third trip!

The difference between the various camps in Sabi Sands is more about the amenities of the lodges than the game viewing. Although the rooms and cuisine can vary widely, the animal opportunities are quite similar. Some of the most famous, high-end camps in the world such as Singita and Londolozi are in Sabi Sands, along with less famous camps like Kirkman’s. I hadn’t stayed at an andBeyond property before (in Kenya’s Masai Mara I always went to Little Governor’s Camp), and though their reviews were excellent I didn’t know what to expect. Their online rates were around $600 per person per day as opposed to Singita, which is about $1,200 per person per day. I knew that any good lodge in Sabi Sands would run at least $500 per day, and Kirkman’s offered a special that if we prepaid two nights we received the third night free. The only risk was that if we cancelled we forfeited our payment. Our total cost for a three-night/four day safari, including six game drives, all beverages (wine, beer, water, soda), food, complimentary laundry and transportation from the airport was about $1,100 per person. The flight from Capetown added another $300 each. Compared to the excursions offered by most cruise lines, this was a steal!

I was joined on the safari by four couples that I met traveling on Nautica from Hong Kong to Athens who had just taken the ship from Istanbul to Capetown. It worked out perfectly for them as Oceania allowed them to adjust their prepaid air to accommodate the post-cruise safari.

As we passed through security at the Capetown airport I heard a guard shouting, “Mr. Peter! Mr. Pete!” I turned back and saw a policeman waving a boarding pass. I walked over to him and read PETER HOVENIER. It was my dad’s.

“That’s my father’s pass,” I told him. My dad was 30-years ahead slowly moving toward the escalator. “Dad! Dad!” I yelled. “Casey, get grandpa.” Dad was flustered and embarrassed but we sorted everything out and boarded our flight to Kruger National Park.

We were picked up at the Kruger (Nelspruit) airport and two hours later pulled into Kirkman’s Kamp. Most camps have themes and Kirkman’s revolves around its history of a failed attempt to become a cattle ranch. Harry Kirkman killed over 500 lions in a vain effort to protect cattle. Part of the main lodge was built in his time, but the 18 guest cottages, pool and dining area are all a modern reproduction of a turn-of-the century safari lodge. While the property has a slight British feel, there is an ease and focus on service that supersedes everything else. When we arrived we were each handed a peppermint infused washcloth and quickly seated in comfortable couches with fresh ice-cold lemonade while we checked in and were familiarized with the camp routine and amenities.

Our luggage was waiting in our rooms when we were each led to our cottages. Casey and I had two comfortable beds with white duvets, down pillows and period furnishings. Chile lime Thai cashews, ice cold water and juices were on a table near our beds. Our in suite bathroom featured a cast iron tub, stand alone shower and custom soaps and lotions. The towels were the largest and plushest I’ve ever used. I noticed a candle and matches on a wooden rack at the end of the tub. Safari lodges can be very romantic and Kirkman’s provided all the luxuries to make it a perfect romantic getaway. A conveniently located storage box contained mosquito repellant, flashlights, power adapters, a blow dryer and more matches. Laundry is complimentary and returned the same day. There was even a stack of Africa themed National Geographic magazines in case I needed something to read. Our air conditioning was controlled by a remote next to my bed, but since Casey still has his cough I favored using the screens and fans. The only thing missing was a television, but I am glad the cottage didn’t have one—despite Casey’s slight disappointment (he had never stayed anywhere without a TV before) we didn’t need one on safari. There is a television and intermittent complimentary wireless Internet access in the main lodge.

Meals are served at flexible times. Breakfast is a combination of buffet and egg entrees to order (the omelets are fantastic) and lunch and dinner feature soup or salads and several entrée options. Last night we chose between fresh Impala (tastes like sirloin) or chicken. Casey was offered a kids menu with macaroni, pizza, schnitzel and hamburgers. Today he discovered he likes Ostrich better than beef!

After getting situated we set out on our first game drive. Because there are

12 of us, we divided into two groups of six. The open air customized land rovers have three inclined rows plus a driver and front passenger seat, so we had more than enough room to be comfortable and take unobstructed photos. It’s summer here and the temperatures were in the high 70’s, so the light safari clothing we brought was perfect. As we set off Casey chose the seat next to our guide, Mike, and I sat in the highest seat in the back—perfect for photos and the most spacious. Sukey and Jessie joined us in our jeep.

Before we took off Mike, a handsome, 25-year old, redheaded South African native warned us about the game drives. “Now out here the animals are wild. When we approach game it’s best to be quiet and not move around too much.” Looking at each of us in turn he asked, “Now before you came out here what did each of you want to see?” No one replied.

“Casey, what did you want to see?”

“Um, Lions, zebras and maybe some monkeys.”

“Right, very good. And you Ann and Peter?”

“We’d like to see an elephant, giraffe, and a lion. It might sound strange but I really want to see a zebra too. Pete would like to see a buffalo.”

“Good, very good,” Mike said in his crisp South African dialect. “Sukey, Jessie, what did you hope to see here?”

“I’d like to see a leopard and Jess wants to see a cape buffalo,” Sukey replied.

“Alright, good and you Jack, what do you want to see?”

“I like all the animals but if I had to pick something I’d choose watching lion cubs playing.”

“Right, that sounds good then, off we go,” Mike said. We hadn’t left the lodge more than five minutes

before he called out, “there are same cape buffalo ahead on our left.” I turned and saw more than a dozen cape buffalo calmly grazing in the tall grass. The scent drifting toward us reminded me of the cow barn at our county fair.

“They sure look powerful,” my dad said.

“They are Pete. If you had to take one of those down you must shoot it very carefully. They have lots of bones in their head and they’re very strong.” We sat there for ten more minutes taking photos and watching them graze. “Everyone ready?” Mike asked. We nodded and took off. We passed through red dirt roads gliding along the trails in our dark green customized jeep, surrounded by green foliage, trees and occasional termite hills. Impalas and exotic birds often appeared as we turned a bend or looked carefully at the trees. I noticed an iridescent blue bird, the size of a large robin on a branch ahead of us.

“What bird is that Mike?” I asked.

“It’s a blue starling,” he replied.

“It looks like the blue bird of happiness—we can certainly use that!” My mom smiled. The air had a pungent, fragrant quality I’d never smelled before. It was the smell of Africa and I knew that this was a scent I’d always associate with coming here with my parents and son.

The Kirkman’s guides all have radios in their ear and I noticed Mike perking up. “Well I think you are very much in luck. Can anyone see what’s ahead?” Mike asked as he turned off the engine.

“A leopard!” Sukey called. Ahead were two vehicles and in a tree was a spectacular female leopard lazily draped on a long tree branch.

“Correct, but look right there,” he said pointing into the brush about 25 feet from our parked vehicle. In the tall grass was a male leopard guarding an impala carcass glaring angrily at us.

“Oh, my!” Sukey blurted out. The leopard started to snarl. He looked directly at Sukey and me. He wasn’t in a good mood.

“He’s warning us away from his food,” Mike said. “Usually they take their prey to a tree, but for some reason his impala is still on the ground.” GRROWWWLLL! The leopard snarled again. “Please don’t make any sudden moves anyone,” Mike warned.

“Would he jump up here?” Casey asked. His eyes were glued on the big cat as his voice cracked.

“It’s not likely but they can be quite protective of their meal. Let’s move forward a bit.” My adrenaline eased as Mike pulled the Land Rover ahead.

“Oh, my gosh! That was amazing!” I said in a stage whisper. “Do you all realize how lucky you are? I came to Africa twice before I even saw a leopard.” We were giddy with the excitement of being abused by a wild leopard. We pulled into position underneath the tree and started taking photos. We spent a good twenty minutes watching her adjust herself on the large branch.

Finally it was time to go in. On the way back we saw some hyena with a fresh kill and laughed as one tried to steal the food from the other. After dinner Casey and I went to bed. It was only 9:30 but the morning game drives begin at 5:30—you have to be up when the animals are visible—and I was still feeling jetlagged.

The next morning we set out in high spirits. After yesterday’s leopard spotting our expectations were high. Within twenty minutes we found ourselves surrounded by five giraffe and quite a few zebra. We stayed there a

while watching them serenely graze. It was a scene that hadn’t changed in thousands of years. We were quite, almost reverent as we witnessed the animals going about their daily rituals. As the zebra and giraffe moved, Mike stealthily rolled our vehicle along a slight incline to ensure we maintained the best possible views. As Casey

watched the giraffes move their necks up and down he turned to my dad and said, “Grandpa, I think it would be terrible to have Parkinson’s if you’re a giraffe. Don’t you?” My mom held back a smile.

“It’s not too fun if you’re a person like me either Casey,” my dad answered. Though his Parkinson’s is less advanced than his Alzheimer’s he moves slowly and has difficulty putting on shirts, climbing in safari vehicles and going up stairs without handrails.

“Everyone ready?” Mike asked. I nodded. I could tell there was something special coming as Mike had been intently listening to his radio. We set off at a brisk pace. Ten minutes later I heard Sukey gasp.

“Oh my! Look at that!” She said. Ahead of us were a lion and lioness walking down the road in our direction. Mike pulled over and stopped the engine.

“When they pass by don’t call out or place your hands outside,” Mike warned us. Casey was absolutely focused on the lions. He followed every direction Mike gave him, and Mike in turn treated him like an apprentice guide.

“Dad! Dad!” Casey called in a loud whisper. “Be careful with your camera but make sure you get pictures!” As the lions passed we barely breathed. In our overly safety conscious western world it’s a special treat to be yards from a wild lion in Africa. A short distance from the jeep the male paused to drink from a puddle. His muscles were immense and his lack of fear made it clear why he is known as the king of the jungle.

As they walked away Mike asked, “How was that everyone?” We were almost speechless. In two 3-hour game drives we had intimate encounters with lions, leopards, cape buffalo, giraffe and zebra. “Does anyone have any questions?”

“What’s that sound Mike,” Sukey asked. There was a bird call that we often heard going coooo-coo-cooooo.

“You mean that rhythmic cooing?” Mike

asked. She nodded. Listen closely and I’ll share a secret with all of you. Casey leaned right in. In rhythm with the bird call Mike softly whispered, “Drink la-ager, drink la-ager.” I started laughing.

“What’s lager Dad?” Casey asked.

“It’s beer.”

“You mean the birds are telling us to drink beer?”

“Well they’re telling Mike to anyway…” Mike grinned as he headed back toward the main camp. I imagined Mike and his buddies growing up in South Africa tossing a few back as the birds told them to drrriinnk la-aager.

When we returned from the game drive I called my sister in Salt Lake City so my parents and I could wish her a Happy 40^th birthday. When your youngest sibling turns 40 you can’t pretend you’re young any more, but then I know that from being with my dad.

After breakfast Casey went for a nature walking safari.

“Casey,” Mike said. “You see those little black pellets?” He pointed to small gumball size black droppings on the red dirt. “Those are impala droppings. What we do here is place them in our mouth and spit them to see who can make them go the farthest. Want to try?”

“Sure!” Before anyone could stop him Casey placed impala poop balls in his mouth.

“Casey!” My mom blurted out.

Sensing my mothers discomfort Mike said, “It’s perfectly safe, just grass and twigs

and such,” as he put some impala poop in his mouth too. “There you go Casey. Spit it out as far as you can.” WHOOSH. Casey’s impala poop flew six or seven feet. “Very good Casey!” My son beamed at discovering his newfound poop spitting ability. It’s ironic at home he won’t eat broccoli or let different foods touch on his plate, but in Africa he’ll place poop in his mouth for sport.

Later that afternoon, just as I was headed to my massage, Casey came urgently sprinting towards me. I could see he was alarmed. “Dad! Dad! I lost my iPad!”

“Casey quit teasing me. I am already late for my massage.” His eyes started to well up.

“No dad, really. I lost it. I left it on the bus that brought us from the airport.”

“Really?” He nodded. “You’re not kidding?” He shook his head no. “Alright, well I am not buying you another one! That was really irresponsible. That iPad is worth $500 and that’s more than most of the people in this county earn in a year! This is a great time to notice it gone—you’re making me late for my massage.”

“I hate myself. I feel so stupid…” his voice trailed off. He had saved for nine months to buy that iPad. It was his most prized possession. Why did I just say that, I asked myself. If that had been my dad or a friend I would have said don’t worry, let’s have the lodge manager call the transport company and try to find it. Instead I acted without any compassion towards the person most dependent on me in the entire world. When I adopted Casey nothing prepared me for the lack of compassion, impulse toward anger and willingness to punish that sometimes occurs in our relationship. Fortunately, I usually recognize it quickly and do my best to behave better than my impulses want me to.

“Casey, Casey,” I murmured. “You are NOT stupid. You are one of the most capable people I know. I’m sorry I got angry, let’s go find the camp manager and see if they can call and find your iPad.”

“But what about your massage? You are going to be late!”

“Don’t worry buddy,” I smiled at him. “This is more important than a massage. I can get a massage anytime.” We spoke to the camp manger and after my massage we learned that they had located his iPad. When our transport takes us back to the airport in a few days Casey will get it back. My heart leapt at the relief on his face.

Our afternoon game drive started on the water. We were looking for hippos and elephants along the Sand River. “Is that a hippo?” Jesse asked, pointing to a small spot in the river hundreds of yards past us. It looked like it could be a log or rock in the water to me. Mike looked at it closely and all of a sudden it moved.

“Right! Yes it is Jesse! Excellent spotting! Well done!”

Casey, intent on fulfilling his responsibilities as an assistant guide added, “Good job Jessie, good job.” My mom and I smiled. He sounded like he was encouraging a fellow teammate as a junior high cross-country match. Casey takes his jobs seriously.

“Good news! Everyone hang on!” Mike yelled as he started driving fast. We were tense with excitement. Five minutes later we could see another Land Rover watching something. “Watch your head!” Mike called as he took the jeep directly into the brush. We knocked over small bushes and created a path where none existed. A pungent aroma of the plants we drove through surrounded us. This is going to be good, I exulted. “There! There!” Mike yelled excitedly pointing through the thicket. About 20 feet ahead was a solitary rhino.

“Whoa!” Casey said. The rhino looked like it would be more at home with dinosaurs than living in the Internet age. It was large, leathery and clearly not scared of anything. Several times Mike moved the vehicle to make sure the rhino didn’t mistake us for a female rhino or worse.

We still have a few game drives left—though I wouldn’t feel disappointed in our animal viewing if we had to leave today—and I’m looking forward to spending more time with my friends here from the previous cruise who are going home for Christmas after the safari. I booked a massage for my mom. She needs some relaxation as being the primary care giver for my dad is taxing. One of our fellow travelers is a geriatric physical therapist and she has been spending time with my parents in their room teaching them exercises to keep my dad ambulatory as long as possible. Earlier today my mom wandered into my room feeling frustrated.

“I don’t want to be mad at you dad, but he wore my shoes all day. I hate it when he does that because they are too small for him and he stretches them out.”

“Did he know what he was doing?” I asked.

“No, he just saw them in the closet and thought they were his,” she sighed. “He doesn’t even own a pair of Brooks tennis shoes…” her voice trailed off. She looked like she was going to cry.

“I’m sorry mom. I know this is really hard and I can’t imagine how different life is for you.”

“Sometimes I see those things and I almost cry, other times it makes me laugh. Things aren’t the same. They won’t ever be the same again. You know what Jack? My socks were rolled up in a ball in those shoes and he put them on too!” She smiled and we both started to chuckle. We share a deep unassailable love for my dad and decades of the experience of him leading our family, making all the plans, and guiding our trips. This is new territory for both of us and though neither of us likes it, we are going forward and making sure that we enjoy all the time we have left. Though life will never be the same, I don’t believe that necessarily means it has to be bad…

Thanks for reading,

Jack