A nomad directs us to a well: ‘Walk half a day towards the sun with the wind on your right’
March 15, 2019 South of Ain Ouin Mesdour: The sea
Water has now become our major preoccupation. We are nearing the sea and the end of our journey but the Draa has disappeared underground or dried up and wells are fewer and further between.
I am learning how to try to find those occasional wells. The first and best way is to ask a nomad. We pass a person every couple of days or so and, after greetings and enquiries about their health and the health of their family, we ask where the nearest well is. The directions are always brilliant. “You walk for half a day towards the sun with the wind on your right. When you are entering an oued between two lines of hills, look to your right and you will see a tafrukht (palm tree). There, you will find water.”
The second way is to use animal tracks. Camels and desert foxes, as we know, can survive long periods without drinking but most other animals can’t. If we are in an area where nomads still have flocks, it’s relatively easy, as the tracks from the herd will lead us to a source.
Another good guide are the wild donkeys, who never stray too far from water. Palm trees are also a sign. They need water to grow, so there is a chance of finding it there. The only problem with that is if there isn’t an associated well and the water hasn’t surfaced. Then, you need to dig. Fortunately, we never got to that state of emergency.
On this day, the terrain is flat with canyons eroded into it where water has been at one stage but no longer exists. It’s getting near bivouac time and we’re down to our last 25 litres.
We’re now in March and the temperature has risen into the late 30s Celsius. Ahead of us, a grove of palms emerges and we all get excited. It’s quite big so surely there’s water there, but when we arrive we find we were wrong. There’s none. We hadn’t passed any nomads or animals that day and there are no visible animal tracks.
We are running out of options. Addi and I are left with the camels and BB and Brahim take to the hills on either side of us to gain some elevation and see what they can. They come back with nothing and we carry on.
There is a well shape in the distance and we aim straight for it, but when we get there it’s been concreted up. There are lots of different reasons for wells to be concreted over – usually it is when the water is gone and it’s been made safe but sometimes it is because of water wars. At one camp, we had been told that the well was disputed between two tribal families. Both wanted exclusive rights and they started to fight each other over it, carrying out raids. Attempted negotiations failed and eventually, to stop the violence, the authorities came in and poured concrete into the living well. Each family then had to dig a new well in their own undisputed territory.
Beside the concreted well is a square metal container about a metre and a half across and a metre high. It is covered in cloth with plastic on top. It’s a cistern and Brahim explains that if there are nomads in the area then the military will come and fill it for them. Addi wrestles the top off to check if there is anything inside, but again we are disappointed.
By now, we’re all really tired and the canyon that we’ve been following has deepened and widened. It’s filled with acacia trees which could mean some kind of source. We still have 25 litres and since both the team and the camels have had enough, we stop and set up camp.
Addi takes off straight after we have done the tents to scout and arrives back, drenched with sweat, just as the rest of us are finishing up lunch. He has run all the way and is flushed with success, as well as the heat, because he has found a well.
When I ask him how, he laughs, “Don’t you see them, Zahra? The nomad tracks. They took me straight there.” I can’t see anything.