Since the removal of the Klaserie fence and the adoption of the APNR management plan, this intensive hands-on manipulation is no longer necessary. Population control of large mammals such as elephant, if implemented, would be a collective management decision made at APNR level. A small percentage of certain big game is taken off in the form of commercial hunting and trophy hunting. This provides income for the running of certain APNR reserves that are unable to generate the necessary funds from levies alone.
It is important to understand and accept that we’re not an isolated farm, game farm or reserve. Olifants River Game Reserve is now an integral part of the Balule Nature Reserve, which is a member of the larger APNR, which in turn is open to the Kruger National Park and Transfrontier Park. It’s all quite a mouthful, I know, but in order to appreciate how we fit into the bigger picture – more importantly, the extent to which we actively manage the reserve in relation to this affiliation – the following background lays the foundations. As a reserve integral to and integrated with the Greater Kruger Park, we no longer decide unilaterally how many of this or how many of that we’re going to capture, sell or shoot.
Supplementary feeding of rhino, or any free-roaming animal, without scientifically motivating this through the approved channels and protocols, is also no longer accepted. Intervention to this degree, in what is an essentially open system, would be frowned upon. The bottom line is that the bigger the area, the less we need to interfere. At the same time, the bigger the area, the less autonomy we can exercise. With regard to our general veld conditions or vegetation biomass on the other hand, it seems we have a little catching up to do, before we let go of the handlebars and say, ‘Look, Ma, no hands.’
The aim of the following is to give the reader a very basic idea of how one can use the carrying capacity figures for a known veld type to determine the optimum number of herbivores to stock a reserve. For example, we will be looking at the larger herbivores (biomass) that the Balule PNR should carry. Remembering that ecology is not an exact science, these guidelines are there to eliminate as much of the guesswork and conjecture as possible, and to try and establish a yardstick that can be applied or adapted, to different scenarios.
The opinions in, and the compilation of the following, are not entirely the result of a focused scientific study; they are more of a composite, gleaned from numerous ecological reports, past and present. It also takes into account observations, recollections and opinions of landowners, farmers and local residents. There’s a lot to be learned this way – just as if you want to know where to find the biggest trout in a stretch of river, don’t go to the library, the mayor, or the chairman of the local fishing club, find the resident young rascal who fishes surreptitiously, with a home-made rod and worms: he will show you.
What are we doing? There is no intention to bring back the past, or to dwell on the good old days, they’re gone. We need to take stock of the present and look to the future, with an unblinkered, open mind and holistic approach.
It doesn’t take a professor of ecology to see that our area (Balule) is in relatively poor shape in terms of vegetation production. Some areas are better than others, but the overall picture is not pretty.
Successful game farmers have proved that in drought years, the most effective and practical remedial action is to reduce the number of animals. These reductions are usually made to the point where the population remains viable, while drastically reducing their impact on the vegetation.
There are 55 vegetation monitoring plots in Balule. This is where the dedicated chaps who spend weeks at a time with their noses to the ground come into their own. The data compiled by the Agricultural Research Council’s technicians provides essential information, indicating how much fodder is available on the reserve. This is expressed as vegetation biomass and in the past has been measured at a high of over one ton per hectare (anywhere up to 2 000 kg) but at present measures a scant 350 kg per hectare, and has been as low as 190 kg in very dry years. For comparative purposes on the other extreme and to give you some idea of standing crop vegetation biomass for other areas, the Kruger National Park has areas of high average annual rainfall that yield nearly 4 000 kg per hectare. While a high percentage of this is moribund, the message is clear enough and supports the suggestion that we have some catching up to do.
The one advantage of a smaller closed system is that it is possible to exercise a higher degree of control. In the greater Balule area, which is regarded as ‘open’, we now need to factor in and consider numerous other factors, not the least being large predators and their effect on the herbivore population.
The landowners, irrespective of the particular way in which they choose to enjoy or utilise their property in the reserve, need to be considered wherever possible, within the broader context of the reserve’s management plan. The mere fact that everybody’s fences are down, and the reserve is becoming more representative of a natural open system, indicates that there is a common like-minded desire amongst the landowners to look at the bigger picture. This takes much of the risk of miscalculation out of the routine, as was shown with the wildebeest population decline in Klaserie. More importantly, many of the more sensitive and difficult decisions could be left to Mother Nature, but we need to be aware of exactly what we are doing and of the risks when we adopt a laissez-faire approach. It has a way of coming back to bite you, witness the elephant problem we have now.
Balule PNR in itself comprises a landscape with varied habitat types, some of which are favoured by certain species in preference to others. Therefore, care must be taken not to extrapolate figures to cover all the properties on a pro-rata basis. An example of this is waterbuck, which show that they are habitat-specific to some degree. It is a well-known fact that they have a marked preference for the areas north of the Olifants River. Game counts over the last 16 years indicate the ratio is as high as a three-to-one count in favour of the northern section. On the other hand, white rhino don’t like this ‘waterbuck habitat’ and have never used the Olifants River, the flood plain or adjacent Commiphora woodland, since their introduction 18 years ago. Technically, waterbuck and white rhino are grazers that utilise different levels, and could theoretically complement each other’s feeding preferences.
It is interesting to note that according to Rowland Ward’s book of world records, we have the biggest waterbuck in the world, right here in our reserve!
Ecosystems are dynamic, and as has been shown, there are subtle considerations within each that need to be understood and taken into account. The paradigms are constantly shifting in response to various influencing factors; they are not always clear-cut and calculable. Therefore, we often rely on the fact that nature is forgiving and constantly trying to heal any wounds, and this also helps us to round off any sharp edges.
Our system is chiefly rain-driven, so there are going to be years when one may very well see ‘wheat fields’ of grass and not too much game, and we will question the need to hunt, capture or cull a single animal. Then, within a few short months, things can decline to the point where even those hardened supporters of ‘leave it to nature’ will be tempted to intervene. Resorting to supplementary feeding of general game in a relatively large system such as the Balule would be impractical and economically unsustainable.
There should be no need to intervene to this extent, nor should the veld be littered with carcasses during an average winter season. What this may well indicate is that the area is going through an unusually dry year, or is over-stocked or poorly managed. Somehow we must strive for a balance, but I do believe that if you have introduced animals into a habitat which is marginal for them, as with the white rhino, then there is a management obligation to feed them in extremely dry periods, or alternatively, capture and translocate some of them.
The following calculations are based on the numbers of the larger herbivores, and are represented in LSU (Large Stock Units). Simply put, an LSU is a cow-sized herbivore. There is an acceptable number of LSU that a reserve
may carry comfortably under ideal conditions, and this is shown in relation to what we are actually carrying at the moment. It gives you some idea of the challenges we face.
A conservative estimate of one LSU per 13 hectares has been the basis for my calculation. Figures have been rounded off and where necessary, I’ve used my own judgement based on the last 16 years on this reserve. The first two tables published give you the opportunity for two totally different interpretations, one based on a calculated hypothesis, the other on recorded, measured statistics. The first table is a rough guideline as to what would be the ideal scenario, the ‘optimum stocking rate’ of our area. Please do not consider these figures as graven-in-stone, rather take the table as an indication of how a middle-aged man going to gym would regard achieving the same physical shape and characteristics as Arnold Schwarzenegger. The objective is certainly possible, but it is practically improbable.
Well, for most of us, anyhow.
Balule Private Nature Reserve: Area size 35 000 hectares
Optimum stocking rates of larger herbivores
Species count
Feeding class
Recommended
Low
High
Highest
(2400 LSU)
(3150 LSU)
Elephant
Mixed
60
90
482
Rhino
Bulk
16
20
30
Hippo
Bulk
50
60
110
Buffalo
Bulk
250
300
398
Zebra
Bulk
600
650
806
Waterbuck
Selective
600
650
806
Wildebeest
Short grass
600
700
691
Impala
Mixed
3300
3800
4445
Warthog
Short grass
350
400
401
Giraffe
Browse
400
450
480
Kudu
Browse
400
500
548
The next table is more specific, being a game census over the last ten years. The measured, recorded figures provide clear indications where we as managers need to focus our efforts in order to try and achieve the best balance possible. The key word here is ‘trend’. It is of little use responding with a knee-jerk reaction to a sudden spike in the figures year-on-year. Before decisions that may have far-reaching consequences are made, a study of the trends over time needs to be evaluated.
The longer the period you have data for, the more informed your decision will be and the better the end results. Olifants is blessed with an excellent level of statistical input, gathered over time by a remarkably consistent group of ‘counters’, for want of a better term.
Balule game census figures for the last ten years, given in two-year intervals
Species
1998–1999
2000–2001
2002–2003
2004–2005
2006–2007
2008
Fence down
Impala
4445
3694
3713
3276
4398
3904
Waterbuck
683
806
522
388
519
490
Wildebeest
691
580
533
335
217
262
Giraffe
480
358
477
325
268
234
Zebra
828
607
652
448
450
447
Kudu
420
548
361
428
487
441
Warthog
254
401
286
315
400
170
Bushbuck
33
34
44
27
67
36
Buffalo
192
272
168
235
391
390
White Rhino
17
17
27
14
30
28
Elephant
0
25
88
304
401
141
Hippo
82
70
42
73
56
112
Finally, on this statistical game drive, you may be interested to note the current (as at mid-2009) estimated head count of six ‘favourites’.
Balule Private Nature Reserve: Area size 35 000 hectares
Estimated number of large predators
Lion
45–50
Leopard
30–35
Cheetah
<12
Wild Dog
0–6
Crocodile
>50
Hyaena
25–30
Back to My Roots … Turning 50!
16 June 2006
It was a beautiful, midwinter afternoon in the bush. It also happened to be my fiftieth birthday. Approaching sundowner time, we gazed over Sunset Plains where we had gathered and watched the red winter sun sink behind the Drakensberg Mountains silhouetted in the distance. A herd of zebra, their tails constantly swishing more out of habit than chasing away flies, grazed contentedly, unperturbed by our presence a mere 50 metres away. Beyond them, a number of wildebeest and a huge herd of impala were moving onto the plain for the evening. Amidst this dramatically beautiful setting, the modest ceremony became all the more poignant for my being surrounded by many of the shareholders of Olifants, who were there to share this milestone in my life. Following a brief toast and birthday wish, I was presented with an envelope. Opening it, I read a brief message, ‘This is to be used for a trip of a lifetime.’ The message and the generous cheque which accompanied it couldn’t have been clearer or meant more sincerely. So I will tell you about ‘The Trip’ and let you decide whether or not I fulfilled the instruction as stipulated.
I am a keen fly-fisherman. My friend and the doyen of trout fishing in this country, Dr Tom Sutcliffe, had something to say about this affliction. In one of his books, Hunting Trout, he dedicates a chapter to our exploits with the long rod on the Eastern Cape streams, wherein he writes that I am ‘terminally besotted’ with fly-fishing. So it should come as no surprise that I now confess to having been oft times preoccupied with delusions of piscatorial grandeur and thus having a hard time focusing on reality. Mental pictures of catching trout and salmon as long as your arm occupied my mind more than I should admit. I could see myself posing for photos with a backdrop of snow-capped mountains in Alaska, New Zealand or Patagonia. I could already feel the frigid air on my face and the pleasant ache in my fingers from the icy water, as I gently released a magnificent fish back into some remote river. The message and the cheque were about to make all these dreams a reality.
But this was not to be.
I still have no idea what prompted my sudden last-minute re-think. Something deeper-seated than rods, lines and hooks was calling. Up until a few weeks prior to taking the trip, I’d had no serious
thoughts on the subject, but, once the thought emerged, there was no doubt this trip would not be a holiday of fun and fish, but would rather be a mission of meaning and purpose. I was unexpectedly overcome by a desire to find my roots, which had previously been on my ‘something to do before I die’ list and now was an urgent priority. I wanted to go to Italy and find where my father was born and locate the odd relative or two, while I was in the neighbourhood. Nothing else mattered, so the world’s trout and salmon were safe to swim another day.
My father was a young man of 20 when the Germans wrenched him away from his family in Italy to fight in the Second World War. He told me that he hid under a bridge near his home to try and evade them, but they eventually found him and bundled him off to war. A year later, after having spent nearly all that time on the front line in the Sahara Desert, he was captured by the Allied forces near Sidi Barrani in North Africa. From there he was sent to the Zonderwater prisoner of war camp in South Africa, where he remained for the duration of the war. When the war ended he was released, but instead of returning to Italy immediately, he decided to earn a little money first so he wouldn’t arrive home empty-handed.
Make no mistake, all Italians can cook, so despite not being able to speak a word of English, he found a job as a chef in Johannesburg which turned out far better than he could have hoped for. Those around him quickly realised that he was good at what he did and soon he was head-hunted by the Langham Hotel in Johannesburg. Once settled in his new job, earning relatively good money and able to send some of it home, it was inevitable that he would end up staying a while longer. My father and mother then met and were soon married. They bought a house in Johannesburg, started a fairly large family and never looked back. He purchased a small farm near Vereeniging, which was more a part-time hobby than anything else.
Mhudi Page 18