Wilderness: Rubondo Island
Rubondo Island is an isolated gem of a national park. It is located about twenty minutes off the coast in the south-western corner of Lake Victoria and has just one high-end lodge and a set of Wildlife Authority Bandas. A Banda is an authority-provided facility that offers cheap and cheerful accommodation for travellers on a budget. That’s not strictly us, but the alternative of staying at a $500 per night lodge wasn’t on the cards. I’ve had poor experience of them in Uganda, so I was hoping for cleanliness, occasional power and plumbing that at least hints at working some of the time.
The problem with going to an isolated location and – nominally, at least – self-catering, is that you have to go shopping first and try to think of everything. I don’t actually think that we even came close to getting this right, but we managed through a mixture of luck and friendliness. Once we had cleaned Chato out of bread (one sliced loaf) and everything else that we thought we might need, we headed for the park entrance and got everything ready to go onto the boat. We had to wait a few minutes for the boat to come back for us, but that gave us a chance to have a look at the much larger, vehicle capable ferry that was berthed alongside us. I guess they are trying to increase the tourism traffic to the island.
The journey was uneventful. There were cormorants fishing or skimming over the water and lots of egrets as we approached the island. The majority of the island is dense woodland, right down to the sea, although there are one or two more open sections of tall grassland. Most of the mammals have been introduced – elephants and giraffes. There are also a number of introduced chimpanzees that we didn’t expect to be seeing. Once you get off the ferry, you are loaded into a vehicle and transported across one of the isthmuses of the island to the camp on the far eastern shore.
The road is rutted and uneven, being crossed by multiple small rivulets and surrounded by deep ditches and broad marshes with dense forest hemming you in on all sides. There are bushbuck and sitatunga seen along this main road, but they are very wary of the vehicles and move rapidly out of sight. At least you do get to see them, even if photography would be very difficult. I have never seen sitatunga before and they are a handsome, if somewhat unusual looking medium-sized antelope. Even a glimpse of one as it vanishes into the marshes would be enough, but with three nights on the island, there is hope of more. By all accounts, the antelope are very numerous, as there are no natural predators apart from the crocodiles and some pretty big pythons. We caught glimpses of many of them, particularly the beautiful bushbuck, almost everywhere we went on the island.
The bandas are fair. They are clean if simple, with working plumbing. The camp cook agrees a fair price to cook for us. The chalets are situated in a broad bay with a sandy beach right in front of the buildings. They are in the process of adding new chalets as well, so they really are hoping for more visitors. Both the sandy beach and the water look very inviting and, in another location, it would indeed be full of swimmers. Here, however, there are crocodiles, hippos and the ongoing threat of schistosomiasis or bilharzia.
I get the impression that the local hippos are pretty easy-going, but they are still very unpredictable and deadly dangerous. Crocodiles are far from easy-going and there are some truly massive ones to be seen here. I didn’t see any right near to the beach, but you’d be mad to take a chance. So, looks idyllic, but there’s that sting in the tail. Schistosomiasis is an ever-present threat in any untreated body of water in this part of Africa and is enough to put most people off the idea of swimming.
We settled in quickly and then went for a short walk before sunset, primarily looking for birds. There were plenty to see, but much more entertaining were the bush pigs who ran out of a thicket and charged head-long past us on either side. Our guide assured us that we were safe and off they ran. I’ve seen them a couple of times before – in South Luangwa and Kafue in Zambia – but never this close or with even a half-chance of a photograph. Their lack of concern is back to the lack of land predators, I guess.
The following morning, we have scheduled a half-day boat safari. This involves travelling down the coast to the southern end of the island, looking for birds, crocodiles and whatever else may be found. The lake is calm enough, but the sky looks pretty ominous as we set off. Sure enough, we round the southern end of another peninsula and the waves begin to pick up as the wind begins to strengthen. We spot an elephant on the shore, but it is impossible to get close or to hold the boat steady for a decent picture.
Getting what shelter we can from the now cresting waves and increasing spray, the boat-driver dashes for cover on a sheltered beach right next to one of the ranger stations. It is littered with the remains of captured nets and fishing boats. Many fishermen apparently come into the protected area looking for bigger and better fish. I’m quite used to the idea of marine reserves and no-fishing zones from back home and, once initial distrust is overcome, they make a fantastic and successful resource. Any captured nets are torn apart and the boats are broken up and burnt.
The sky darkens quickly and we make a quick walk to one of the ranger’s rooms to sit the downpour out. In the end, it rains torrentially for a couple of hours. There’s nothing to do other than to watch the rain fall and wait. At least we are dry and comfortable.
When the rain finally relents and it is calm and dry enough for us to continue, the boat is started and we head slowly back. There are plenty of birds to be seen along the way and we are lucky enough to get another difficult sighting of an elephant. This one is in deep cover and soon moves even deeper into the shadows, making photos impossible. Still, there are fish eagles, osprey, buzzards and kites to keep us occupied, along with the dozens of egrets, herons and cormorants. Then there are tens of pairs of pied kingfishers, often on land, but also hovering over the calming water in search of a meal.
Moving close in to the shore, looking at green-backed night herons, we notice the distinctive plastic floats of a net in a line close to shore. We have found a poacher’s net in the water. Our guides and the driver will not leave this in place and we search along the shore for a few dozen metres in search of one end of the net and begin to haul it aboard. There are three or four fish, big tilapia of up to a couple of kilos, in the 50m or so of net. They are recently ensnared, flapping angrily as they are released into the boat without any care for the net.
At the far end of the net is the big prize. The fishermen must have heard the engine of our boat, as they have hauled their little wooden boat into cover and made a run for it with the entire catch left behind. Dead fish don’t go back into the water, so they are passed aboard and the canoe is taken in tow for a run back to base. I think I know what is for dinner tonight already.
We call at a couple of the smaller islands and get a fleeting glance at a spot-necked otter and some very big crocodiles. Once we make it back to the beach, a few of the fish are offloaded for camp and the rest, along with the boat, are taken off to ranger headquarters across the bay. Apparently, when Fred was on the island more than ten years ago, he caught a boat that time as well. That’s the sort of luck we could all do with more of.
Tilapia, especially when it is that fresh, is truly excellent. I’m not a fan of them staring at me from the plate, but the flesh falls of the spine and is truly delicious. It makes up for the fact that the meat we brought with us was terrible and that we didn’t bring enough protein if you discount the dozens of eggs. Anyway, super-fresh fish and chips for supper, a couple of beers and an early night seemed to be in order.
All in all, it made what might have been a pretty messed up day into a really memorable one. Apparently, the poachers would phone home and escape the island at some point, but they’d be without a boat or gear and that’s something they might never recover from. My own view was that they should introduce leopards to the island to help keep the fishermen under control.
Our second full day on the island was flat calm and very hot. We’d agreed to go for a game drive, but this was suggested for the late afternoon when the temperature would have fallen a little. We had a quick bird-hunt around the bandas and then settled down in whatever shade we could find to wait out the heat.
There were three or four hippos in the water right on the beach and, when one of them decided to come out to mark the territory, we got excellent photo opportunities as he moved within less than ten metres of our seating position. He did a quick lap of the bandas and then slipped back down the sand and into the water. I guess even he thought it was too hot to be out in the sun for long.
The game drive was long and hard, down a track to the south that clearly wasn’t used very often. The way was blocked more than once by fallen trees – well, probably gardened by elephants. We came across many sitatunga and even more bushbuck, but they were all clearly unused to the vehicle and ran into deep cover on first sight.
As we neared the time to turn back, we finally came upon several giraffes. They were much more amenable to standing still and being photographed, but still a little nervous and shy. With the light fading fast we made the best of the conditions and then headed back to the bandas. It was fully dark by the time we got back for supper, but it had been at least a limited success.
We all took the opportunity of an early night before going back to the mainland on the early boat in the morning to give us a chance to at least see a little of Burigi-Chato Park.