Wild Spirit

by Henderson, Annette

  I am deeply indebted to André Brosset, Annie Gautier-Hion, Louise Emmons and Hugo who welcomed us so warmly to CNRS at Makokou, and were our scientific guides in the Gabonese forest.

  For their camaraderie, humour, generosity of spirit and for all they taught me, I thank our many Belinga colleagues and friends, especially DJY, PG, GP, MM, Nganga Étienne and M’Poko Lucien. And I am grateful to Roger Bonnet for taking us under his wing in Libreville and opening his home and heart to two grimy Australians.

  My lifelong gratitude goes to Josie and Ikata, who opened up the world of western lowland gorillas to me and changed me forever.

  Win and me at the Adventurers’ Club in Brisbane, soon after we first met in 1970. It was a party night, and Win had cooked dinner for about 100 people. (Photograph © Bill Atkinson)

  On the riverbank, waiting for the pinnassier to fix the outboard motor. Belinga camp could only be reached by travelling upriver for a whole day on a pirogue. We wore heavy clothing against the dry season cold.

  A village we passed on our first trip up the Ivindo, on our way to Belinga. The people lived by fishing and hunting, and grew crops of maize, cassava, taro and bananas.

  My first view of the cloud forest around Belinga in daylight left me speechless. From that moment I realised we were entering a world few were privileged to know.

  Belinga camp from Belvédère, a vantage point from which we could look down into the Republic of the Congo. Surrounded by endless forested mountains, we sometimes forgot that another world existed outside.

  The guesthouse at Belinga, built from the local ironstone. Office, dining room, kitchen, living quarters and radio shack, it was the hub of the camp.

  Interior of the guesthouse at Belinga. The hard hats and rain jackets hanging on the fireplace were in constant use. Workspace and relaxation area, the guesthouse was where I spent much of my time.

  The Gabonese workers’ village at Belinga. Constructed from puddled mud over sapling frames, the huts consisted of two rooms with cooking fires outside. Specialist workers occupied prestige spots at the top of the hill.

  A block of mini-apartments under construction at Belinga. Win introduced modern building methods to the area. The Kombi played a crucial role in transporting materials and men.

  Rodo, Win and I loved to drive out on the old forest tracks wildlife spotting. Fallen trees often blocked the way, but Rodo was prepared for this one.

  We made weekly trips to buy manioc from women in the local villages. Here at M’Vadhi, the SOMIFER pirogue is beached alongside the women’s small pirogues. Their trips often involved hours of paddling each way.

  Women and children at M’Vadhi village, Upper Ivindo, on our manioc-buying day. Bundles of manioc lie on the riverbank, ready to be loaded. This commerce, organised and managed by the women, provided vital cash.

  A traditional Pygmy shelter at M’Vadhi, contrasting with the mud hut most widely built throughout the country. We were shocked and dismayed to see Pygmy families in poor and degraded conditions.

  I make friends with children and a puppy at M’Vadhi. I wondered what future these children might have in this remote location, with limited educational opportunities and the ever-present threat of disease.

  Win sedates Josie with red wine prior to surgery, while Rodo and I steady her arms and legs. This was the beginning of our journey of love with her that was to change my life.

  Josie on the Citroën Méhari. She became part of our Belinga family. Her intelligence and vulnerability kept us on an emotional seesaw between joy and sadness as we shared each day.

  Josie with Win in our flat, drinking from his glass of beer. Once she realised she was in a loving environment, she relaxed. On Sundays, Win would take her to the edge of the forest to forage.

  Josie clinging to me at the radio on the day she left us. I was weighed down by the sadness of her imminent departure, and fearful for her future.

  Boisterous Bouéni, a young male chimpanzee, leapt into my arms on an island near the CNRS research station in Makokou. Reared in captivity, he was a relentless attention-seeker.

  On the island, where Hugo brought food drops of bananas every few days. Bouéni’s gobbling style of eating contrasted with Ikata’s fastidious feeding habits. In the wild, gorillas and chimpanzees would never live together.

  Ikata has peeled a banana and explores its texture delicately. Sharing this moment in the forest with two of our closest relatives filled me with wonder, and I felt the force of a different destiny tugging at me.

  Bouéni soon abandoned his food in favour of another cuddle. Honoured by his trust, I savoured this precious encounter, wishing it would last forever.

  Bananas forgotten, Ikata embarks on a grooming session, teasing my long hair out of its rubber band and fossicking gently on my scalp. Incredulous, I felt I had entered, at least in part, into his world.

  The horror of a slain silverback gorilla at Belinga, shot through the back by local hunters. Gorillas were demonised in the local culture, and killing one brought prestige as well as meat.

  A gorilla’s skull picked clean by ants – another distressing sight that would haunt me forever. Our efforts to stop gorilla killings proved fruitless. Their protected status under the law meant nothing in this remote forest.

  A hunter’s grim trophy – a gorilla’s severed foot on a rope – twirled triumphantly in the air by a young boy at Mayebut.

  Bwiti dancers at Belinga, performing for visitors. The Bwiti cult is widely practised in Gabon, and involves the use of the hallucinogenic drug iboga. Many symbols of Christianity were incorporated into the performance.

  Test drilling for iron ore on Babiel. A team of Canadian drillers brought twenty tonnes of equipment with them and extracted core samples from sites all around Belinga. The associated destruction of forest distressed us.

  Win and Rodo inspect Eamon’s house under construction. The walls were built from local ironstone, readily available all around the camp. Gabonese stone masons were well versed in using this material.

  Win in front of Eamon’s completed house – the detached kitchen behind and the great forest just metres away. The luxurious house drew universal praise. Eamon’s wife wanted Win’s name engraved on a plaque outside.

  Win and me with the Kombi back in Brisbane in 1992. The sign-writing was what had led to our year at Belinga. A vehicle with a unique history and appearance, it became well known around Brisbane.

  A privilege I never expected to have: meeting Jane Goodall in Brisbane in October, 2008. She has inspired me for over thirty years. (Photograph © Julia Hoy)