14-15 September 2019: Vwasa Marsh Wildlife Reserve

Vwasa Marsh was the stuff that birding dreams and nightmares were made of. (My teachers taught me never to end a sentence on “of”), so … that birding dreams and nightmares were made awf… The dirt road from Nyika was a challenge, and that was putting it lightly! A fine, powder dust entered every nook and cranny, and potholes filled with dust ambushed us around every corner. At the Kazuni campsite we asked directions to the scout camp at Kawiya, because our target birds were located in that vicinity. We were told to just carry on straight ahead on the 4x4 track – and that is where the nightmare began.

White-necked Raven, Nyika

Twenty kilometres of serious 4x4 driving, while constantly being stung by Tsetse flies, brought us to a place where the track was blocked by a large tree pushed over by elephants. Being serious twitchers we did not allow ourselves to be hampered by this minor obstacle and out came a saw and pruning shears, and we cut a new track through the bush. The Tsetse flies thought that Christmas had arrived. After a half-hour of strenuous exercise – cutting trees and swatting flies - I drove around this paciderm obstacle, losing the shower attachment on the side of Daai Dêng in the process. The dream part of this equation realised about 5 km further when we came across a group of six White-winged Babbling Starlings, our first, very localised, target bird for the day. Despite this being serious lion habitat we both ran after the birds as they flew away, trying for a photo. We were not successful…

The ordeal continued when, another few kilometres further, I had to drive through a narrow drift with steep sides, and got stuck with very little traction on the wheels. Daai Dêng’s winch was attached to a nearby tree, Tsetse flies were blessed, low range 4x4 was engaged, and Daai Dêng emerged from the drift with all attachments intact except its dignity. At this stage Maans and myself had to start searching for the track, as normal, sane people realise when enough is enough and turn around. Our two GPS devices also gave up hope and indicated that they were totally lost. In the process we flushed our second target bird, a Chestnut-backed Sparrow-weaver, a very localised miombo specialist. This made everything worthwhile, but we still had to return to our campsite at Kazuni.

As there was no turning back, we bundu-bashed our way to the border of the reserve where we found an unlocked gate and a faint two-spoor road. In the process of returning to an official dirt road outside the reserve we traversed a rickety wooden bridge not used by vehicles for ages, crossed a daunting mountain pass and took an 80 km detour back to the park’s main entrance which we reached at sunset. And still the day did not end peacefully. That night, around two ‘o clock in the morning, Maans chased a female hippo with a baby away from his tent with a water bottle and a few choice words better not repeated. His antics woke up the rest of the camp and Maans then prudently decided to sleep on the vehicle’s front seat until the angry hippos had departed.

Was it all worth the effort? Of course! I added two very special birds to my African Big Year list!