Joining a ranger patrol in Namibia to protect rhinos, elephants
PALMWAY, Namibia – Fresh dung. Tracks in the sand of the Namib Desert. The black rhinoceros can’t be far away. Wildlife rangers Stefanus Ganuseb, 42, and Fritz Hoeb, 45, are patrolling on foot, equipped with binoculars and a camera. And accompanied by an armed policeman.
Then they discover the young male rhino named Arthur on a distant crest. The team checks the direction of the wind so that their scent won’t be detected, and creeps toward the animal. At 100 meters maximum is usually where this ends. But today, Arthur is coming closer, not noticing the men and peacefully grazing further – juicy stalks of spurge bushes. The men take pictures and fill out a form of the sighting for the animal protection group Save the Rhino Trust.
“The chief aim of Save the Rhino Trust is to protect the black rhinoceros from poachers,” says Lesley Karutjaiva, the 47-year-old head of the group’s base in Palmwag, in north-western Namibia. It is from the local lodge that tours start for observing the creatures.
What tour participants don’t know is that, without Save the Rhino Trust, there possibly wouldn’t be any more of the rare animals to be seen. And so tourism profits from the efforts of an organization that keeps watch on an area of 25,000 square kilometers. Karutjaiva estimates the rhinos’ numbers at nearly 200, and is sorry that there is no state financial support for the group’s work.
Controversial dehorning“We don’t receive anything,” he says, adding: “We have only six vehicles. This isn’t enough for such a huge area.” The state only provides police escorts for the patrols. All other costs – be it for rangers, training programs or the dehorning of the animals – are covered by donations.
Karutjaiva considers dehorning, such as was undertaken with Arthur, as a double-edged sword. Basically speaking, the practice is to make a rhinoceros less attractive for poachers, for the 3.5-kilogram horn can fetch more than $200,000 on the black market. “But the disadvantage is for the rhinoceros itself, because it then can’t defend itself against predators,” he says.
Moreover, dehorning is not a complete guarantee for deterrence. “Poachers take all the parts, even if they are so tiny,” Karutjaiva says, citing some sad statistics. Thirty-five rhinoceroses have fallen victim to poachers since 2012. “We need more donations in order to do a better job and to hire more personnel.”
For him and his professional colleagues, the drought in Namibia is a catastrophe because the authorities have issued permits for the hunting of wild animals. It’s a matter of argument whether what is behind this move is the idea of providing meat for the starving population. Or, as animal protection groups suspect, it is just as likely that the hunting licenses are going to wealthy recreational hunters from abroad.
The human-elephant conflictMeanwhile the organization Elephant-Human Relations is keeping watch over around 200 kilometers of roads and trails southeast of Palmwag in a bid to protect desert elephants. Again, tourists are the beneficiaries and are allowed to accompany the teams on their patrols. And the group also gets no money from the state.
The term “desert elephant” is not totally correct, game warden Taiwin Garoeb notes. “They are elephants who have adapted to the desert climate. They can cover long distances to the next watering hole,” the 30-year-old says. But in the past this also lead to many of the pachyderms being killed. A thirsty elephant shows no mercy to farmers and settlers, and they in turn fight back.
So precautions have to be taken. “We build protective walls at water points and separate dams away from village communities,” says regional manager Charles Moloto. A move, so to speak, to protect animals and people from each other.
Humility before the pachyderms“When I meet an elephant, I feel humble,” says gamekeeper Garoeb, who actively helps with the campaigns. Like him, his colleagues from Save the Rhino Trust are fighting for the survival of endangered species in deserts and savannahs.
“It’s a dangerous job for us, but I love it, being in the bush,” ranger Ganuseb says, his eyes lighting up. He and all the others who unconditionally are working to protect the animal kingdom are the quiet heroes of the wilderness.