RETURN OF THE PACK
A year after BBC’s Dynasties, SARAH MARSHALL catches up with the stars of the painted wolves episode in Mana Pools National Park
TWITCHING his nose like a mouse in a pantry, safari guide Henry Bundure tips back his head and inhales the air. It’s a warm morning, and a light wind carries the unmistakable waft of hippos wallowing in the Zambezi River – a putrid perfume with the sweetness of rotting fruit.
Distinctive though it may be, it’s not the scent Henry is after. His highly trained nostrils are on the hunt for a different animal, one which has earned Zimbabwe’s Mana Pool National Park international small screen acclaim, and one which attracted the world’s greatest wildlife documentary narrator to pay a visit early last year.
“I managed to sniff out the wild dogs for David Attenborough,” says Henry proudly. “He came here in his helicopter and wanted to see them,” explains the chatty, good-humoured Zimbabwean, who was drafted in to help guide the 93-year-old.
“Everyone thought I was crazy, but I managed to find them.”
The purpose of Attenborough’s visit was to film some final scenes for landmark series Dynasties, which aired on BBC1 in 2018. It was a rare overseas outing for the national treasure, who prefers to spend most of his time in Richmond. But it was one which paid off. Henry recalls he was “happy”, and they both enjoyed a sundowner of Zambezi beer.
An ambitious series, Dynasties focused on individual families from five different species, monitoring their behaviour, bonds and disputes.
Producer Nick Lyon spent two years filming in Mana Pools, following the fortunes of ageing alpha-female Tait and her power-hungry daughters Blacktip and Tammy. The story ended in tragedy when Tait died, although after a decade, she’d boosted a population which only accounts to 6,600 Africa-wide.
Now, Henry is helping me pick up where the story left off.
We set off after sunrise to track the dogs, who were last seen on the floodplain less than 24 hours earlier. Henry’s unconventional nasal tracking technique is down to the strong smell of ammonia he claims the dogs exude. It’s a result of their adaptation to hunting baboons – a new behaviour filmed by the BBC, which astounded experts.
Today, though, we’re guided by sight. We follow fresh paw prints to a tangled pile of regurgitated entrails, which almost triggers my own breakfast to resurface. It’s a clear indication the dogs are around.
There are estimated to be around 110 dogs in Mana Pools, and during Tait’s reign, three packs roamed this area. After her death, Blacktip took control of the Nyakasanga pack, while Tammy took over Nyamatusi. Both, however, have suffered in the interim, and in April this year, Blacktip went missing. Without their leader, the dogs are in disarray.
“We believe she might be dead,” says Henry, who describes her as an animal “who never smiled”. Shortly after filming ended, Henry started working for African Bush Camps (ABC), a boutique collection of camps set up by Zimbabwean and former safari guide Beks Ndlovu, where the emphasis is on embracing wilderness, but in style.
Huddled between winter thorn and ebony trees on the banks of the Zambezi River, the semi-mobile Zambezi Expeditions camp epitomises their ethos perfectly. Six rustic tents evoke the nostalgia of classic safaris; at night hippos snuffle past the canvas flaps and in the morning dewy pink light streams through seams.
And then there’s Henry, whose talent for locating wildlife extends far beyond his olfactory powers.
“Let’s check out the morning newspaper and find those kitty cats who were making noise last night,” he says, as we sit around a campfire watching distant mountains break through the misty morning haze.
Of course, Mana Pools isn’t all about dogs. There are the lions, who prowl between long shafts of vetiver grass, hippos, who chew on sausage tree fruit as if smoking cigars, and
hundreds of elephants who come here to drink. Not to mention the landscape: an enchanted forest of ancient trees bowing and bending to find light; a mighty river decorated with a maze of sandbanks; and a quartet of large pools created by oxbow lakes.
One of the reasons Nick Lyon chose to film here was “the beautiful backdrop”, best experienced from ABC’s newest camp, Nyamatusi. Occupying a remote section of the park, six smart, sumptuous tents with plunge pools gaze at the Zambezi, setting a new benchmark for luxury in Mana Pools.
Stars of this show are the elephants, who’ve honed a talent for balancing on their back legs to reach the leaves of acacia trees.
These yogic moves are an adaptation to finding water and nutrition during periods of drought, such as the one Zimbabwe is facing right now.
For the dogs, survival is always a challenge. Photographer Nick Dyer has spent the last six years photographing packs in Mana Pools and is on familiar terms with them all. A co-founder of the Painted Wolf Foundation, his images have also been published in coffee table book Painted Wolves: A Wild Dog’s Life, and he now runs photographic safaris in partnership with ABC.
This week, like me, he’s in the park as a guest. I find him at a sighting of several dogs from Blacktip’s fractured pack. Given his knowledge of the animals’ movements, guides have even resorted to tracking him. “I often cover my footsteps with leaves,” he laughs.
One of the great joys of Mana Pools is that guests can explore on foot, allowing walking safaris and an opportunity to observe wildlife from a different perspective. It means most of our outings have been a “combo” of drives and walks.
Approaching slowly, we’re able to crouch close enough to hear the dogs pant, and when they pile on top of each other in a greeting ceremony which resembles a winning team at the final whistle, we have front row stadium seats.
But seemingly unsure of where to run, the dogs soon scatter.
“It’s so sad to see them like this,” laments Nick, referring to the break-up of the pack and their metaphorical lack of direction. “I’m really not sure what will happen next.”
Disappearing behind a bush, several boisterous individuals are involved in a fracas and we wonder for a minute if they’ve made a kill. But the focus of their attention turns out to be a car mat, which they rip and tussle in a tug of war.
It’s an amusing scene which makes us smile – and proof that even though tough times might lie ahead for these animals, there’s always room for play.