The first saffron rays of sunrise bled into the deep purple sky above the Chobe River. An onyx-winged cormorant arced downward, diving below the inky water while a hippo yawned its tusky jaws. Two villagers skimmed silently along in dugout mokoros, and pied kingfisher birds sung out “Tree-ti-ti, tree-ti-ti”. This was my wake-up call aboard the Zambezi Queen, Africa’s first eco-friendly water safari.
The sleek 14-room
river boat sails the sprawling waters of the Chobe
River between Botswana’s Chobe
National Park and Namibia’s Caprivi Strip, which together contain
one of Africa’s densest concentrations of
wildlife. Since 2010, the Zambezi has offered an
alternative safari experience: instead of staying in a lodge at night and
venturing out into the gameparks in jeeps by day, travellers eat, sleep and
breathe the life of the floodplains.
And so it was
that I awoke, unsure but uncaring of the time, to observe the morning rituals
of the river. From the banks, our boat must have looked a bit like some
floating cubist sculpture, its white angular structure scored by
floor-to-ceiling windows striped with balcony railings, its monochromatic
figure floating in a backdrop of clear blue sky.
the siren call of wi-fi (the Zambezi chooses
not to offer it) and clocks, I began opening up to my surroundings. I noticed
the way the ripples of the river mimicked the corrugated roofs of the local
village huts. I picked out the separate voices in the chorus of birdsong — the
rowdy squawk of the lilac breasted roller, the throaty rick-rack of the cattle
egret, the gurgle of the white-fronted bee-eater. After dark, I lost hours counting
falling stars beneath the dotted canopy of the Milky Way, its sparkling dome
mirrored in the placid waters below.
itself is configured for just this kind of discovery. Lighting changes over the
course of the day to keep the focus on the outdoors. They eschew dinnertime
music in favour of the natural sounds of the river. And they request that those
who do manage to find mobile service refrain from making calls in shared common
areas. The muted subtlety of the décor, the predominance of overstuffed pillows
and soft couches all combine to create a mellow, homey vibe — the kind of
laidback environment you can wallow in like a hippo.
The crew is
also acutely aware of their place in this fragile ecosystem. The Zambezi runs on jet propulsion to avoid damaging the
riverbed. Hot water comes courtesy of solar panels. And generators are shut off
at night, saving power and reducing the noise pollution that could distract you
from your pied kingfisher wake-up call.
would be easy to spend every day watching the world awaken from the comfort of the
fluffy white beds, I wanted to get closer to the action, so I hopped on one of
the small launch boats that ferries guests to a land-based safari. We zipped
past islands of emerald hippo grass and pairs of moody crocodiles, docking on
side of the river.
Chobe divides Botswana and Namibia, you have to stamp in and out of each
country several times during your stay, a quick informal process — you can even
take along your Windhoek beer— that leaves you with pages of passport stamps
and a friendly rapport with both countries’ immigration staffs.
Then, it was
into a Land Rover to get a closer look at the sprawling landscape I had been
admiring from afar. And when I say close, I mean close. Due to stringent conservation measures from the Botswana government, poaching has never been a
problem in Chobe National Park. As a result, animals have
little fear of humans. The tawny-coated kudu with its noble spiralling horns
barely acknowledged our vehicle’s approach across the hot sand by the river.
Giraffes ignored us as they ambled gracefully across the red clay road. Our
guide easily picked up a prehistoric dung beetle before setting it free to
scurry over droppings left by elephants. And many of those beautiful multi-ton
pachyderms lumbered within a hair’s breadth of our vehicle.
land-based game drive is one of many ways that the Zambezi Queen brings
guests into direct interaction with their environment. A similar drive might be
followed by a fishing excursion to take on the formidable hunting tiger fish.
Or water-based safaris in small guide boats that dip in close to the riverbank
to observe dinosaur-like monitor lizards sunning themselves on logs, kingfisher
eagles perched in trees, and elephants playfully spraying water on their young.
Or you can choose to do none of the above and simply take it all in from the
top deck being lolled into the rhythm of the river.
On the last
day of my stay, I climbed in for a ride in a traditional mokoro. The flat-bottom boat balanced precariously just barely
above water level, a skilled rower standing and pushing gondola-style from the
back. With each early stroke, with each pitch and roll, I felt certain I would
upset its delicate balance and topple into the unknown dangers lurking beneath.
But then I relaxed and let my gaze rest on the delicate white water lilies, the
small eddies and ripples of our boat skimming the surface, the knots and gnarls
of the mokoro’s wood. From then-on it
was smooth sailing.