Black Rhino Moments at Marataba

Here in Marataba, at the foot of the Waterberg mountains, the black rhinoceros (Diceros bicornis) can still be found. These iconic and powerful creatures are sadly critically endangered - their numbers are estimated to be around only 6000.

Historically black Rhinos were widespread throughout the African continent, but due to rampant poaching and habitat loss, their population has drastically declined.

The white rhinos of Marataba are grazers – they love the grass, so I always compare them to the person who loves to hang out in the park and play frisbee. They are used to the hustle and bustle of the open, impala on the left, zebra on the right, and a safari vehicle grumbling past every now and then. They are not too phased by us; in fact, they mostly pay us no attention at all. This can be a little frustrating when said rhino is having a nap in the middle of the road and we have places to be… but there are worse traffic jams in life.

The black rhinos on the other hand are browsers, which means that they love eating leaves. Their dung is easily recognised by the twigs we find in the rhino middens, cut at perfect 45-degree angles. Unlike their wide-lipped cousins, they do not go to the park for frisbee, but rather hang out in the bushy thickets. Of these, Marataba has plenty - rhino heaven! However, this also means that when our rhino friend is browsing happily in the thickets, and a safari vehicle turns a corner, he does not stick around for long.

Many of our Marataba Luxury Lodges guests have had the privilege of viewing the face of a black rhino for about 10 seconds (while he tries to decide what is happening) and then seeing a tail followed by the sound of a thousand kilograms crashing through the bush.

A few weeks ago, I had some South Africans on the vehicle. They had been to Marataba before and had decided to bring the whole family. South Africans usually have only a handful of animals that they have not seen in the wild. Usually, I hear, “Laz, we would love to see a honey badger,” or “Laz, we would love to see an aardwolf.” For this family, it was a black rhino.

We had a few days of great game viewing behind us, and on our last morning I decided to head down the valley to Windmill plains. I explained to them that although there is a lot of evidence of black rhinos in terms of middens and browsed plants, I have only seen a few on drives. “No pressure Laz, we love being in the bush, but it would be amazing to see one.”

It is such a beautiful drive, the road goes right down the valley and then cuts to the foot of the mountain range, the landscape ever-changing from open grassy plains to thick Cluster Leaf and Burkea forests. As we drove right up to the mountainside, one of the guests pointed out a tree halfway up and while most of us looked left, one guest looked right… right into the face of a black rhino.

We stopped, went back and I braced myself for the great escape. It never came. Instead, we just sat there mesmerised by this prehistoric-looking creature that clearly was just as fascinated by us as we were by it. It would approach the vehicle, and then back off a bit, think about life for a while, pretend that we are not there, change its mind and come towards us again to inspect - if this thing that appeared out of nowhere was in fact there. Whenever it came too close, I would just make a small noise and it would back off a little to what it felt was a safe distance, and then we would repeat the dance.

At some point, we decided to leave it to finish its breakfast, and as we left it ran parallel to the road for a little while as if to say: “Hey wait! We just met; you can’t leave now!”

I don’t think words can really describe that feeling you have when you have had an encounter like that. Amazing, fantastic, magical? You drive away with a feeling of did-that-really-just-happen?

I said my goodbyes to my South African guests that morning and welcomed new guests from the USA, onto my vehicle. “This is our first safari, and we are happy to see anything. No pressure, Laz.”

On our first drive that afternoon the bush was quiet, I’m not sure we even saw an impala. But the scenery was beautiful, and I knew of the perfect place to stop for evening drinks. Rooiklippies is on the river, with a great view of the mountain that turns orange-red in the setting sun. But it seems that it was not just us who wanted to enjoy a beautiful sundowner - Diceros bicornis was there as well. He looked at us, walked up to the vehicle, very relaxed he stood there for a few seconds as if reading the sign on the door and then turned around and started browsing the bushes just a few metres away from us. We watched him for about ten minutes before we set off looking for another drinks spot.

My guests had no idea how special their sighting was, and, in fact, we saw a black rhino every day while they were here. But maybe as the population of black rhino grows and they become more used to the hum of the safari vehicles, we will have more of these special encounters with these prehistoric animals.