Watching wildlife in Namibia

Water holes are the lifeblood for wildlife across much of eastern and southern Africa during the dry season. This is especially true in Namibia, where arid savannah grasslands and the Namib Desert dominate the landscape of a country about the size of Texas and Louisiana combined.

Namibia, with its bountiful and accessible wildlife, is still undiscovered by Americans, but Europeans visitors, especially Germans and the Dutch who were early settlers and farmers in the late 1700s, flock to Namibia for a summer vacation or to visit relatives.

In August, I joined a small tour group that searched for wildlife throughout the Etosha plains and Erongo Mountains of north-central Namibia. Scattered across the landscape there was a cornucopia of animals, prey and predators, even where it was desolate and arid. Huge herds of big-game animals lazily grazed on the savannah, and troops of baboons romped along the roadsides near cultivated fields. Small bands of antelopes ranged across the steppe, and wildebeests and giraffes browsed among small forested patches.

But the real excitement comes when you visit watering holes. Scattered throughout the bush, these are irresistible magnets that draw all kinds of animals and birds to slake their thirst.

As we watched from a bluff overlooking the Angola border, thirsty animals approached water holes with great caution. Individual scouts often stood at a distance to watch and listen for predators. When it was safe, the animals moved toward the water, often clustered together in a tight pack along the muddy bank.

Animals at the edge of the herd were more wary, and if a sound alarmed them, they made a noisy splash away from the water hole. Even the appearance of a hyena or several jackals caused skittishness and sent animals bounding away.

The most fascinating water holes dot the huge Etosha National Park in north-central Namibia. The Etosha Pan, the floor of a large dry inland lake bed 60 miles long by 50 miles wide, dominates the landscape. Myriad species forage over the pan and seek out water holes day and night.

While we quietly watched with cameras poised, well before darkness the number of approaching big-game animals increased, arriving singly, in pairs or in small groups. The spectacle was breathtaking. Waves of springbok, plains zebras, impalas and greater kudus approached, accompanied by several warthogs and jackals. Three groups of giraffes warily bent low to drink, with scouts eyeing their neighbors on either side.

Smaller game animals moved aside when a black rhinoceros approached and enjoyed exclusive use as it drank and noisily plunged into water, totally unconcerned with animals around it.

Out of the shadows, large shapes appeared in the distance, and several families of African elephants slowly converged from different directions. Finally, they joined each other at the water's edge in a family gathering with several babies in tow. Adults touched trunks and rocked back and forth in unison while their offspring stomped together in the shallow water and flung mud into the air with their trunks.

As some animals departed, others arrived, giving the elephants a wide berth. Several small bands of zebras arrived from different directions and tussled for position on the muddy banks of the water hole. Brown hyenas, ostriches and miniature dik-dik antelopes waited for a chance to dash in for a drink, while common warthogs brazenly muscled in between zebras. This extravaganza lasted well beyond midnight, when we finally retired.

Throughout South Africa, water holes are tiny oases on a parched landscape that give wildlife watchers an opportunity to find a rich cross-section of animals and to observe behaviors as predators and prey warily drink together.