The musth bull’s charge was a primal explosion of power and sound, but the lions stood their ground, roaring defiance at his rage. The riotous cacophony vibrated through me as more elephants joined in, trumpeting their discontent. I knew what I was hearing were proclamations of dominance and power. But it was the first time I had felt them in my rib cage. Amplified, and in stereo, they put me at the very heart of this epic show down.
When it was over – the lions and elephants moved off in different directions with a few last rumbles and roars – the bushveld felt empty, like someone had suddenly turned it all off.
Sound safari specialist Derek Solomon was grinning. Not all his game drives from Sausage Tree Safari Camp in Balule Private Nature Reserve include the level of acoustic drama we’d experienced. He’d recorded it, “but I think that the trumpets and roars were so loud in that interaction that it clipped way past the recorder’s capabilities,” he said. By the time we stopped for coffee, the rent in the fabric of the morning had closed, but our ears had been opened.
The evening before, we’d spent close to two hours with the same breeding herd of elephants moving and feeding around us in the moonlight. They’d been in a distant drainage line when guide Jimmy Mdhlovu spotted them. “They’re coming,” he’d assured us, switching off the vehicle to wait.
With the help of a set of two stacked microphones tucked into a grey fluffy ‘windjammer’ attached to the front of the game drive vehicle, every sound was amplified though our headphones as the elephants slowly approached. There were crickets chirping, Ring-necked Doves (Cape turtle doves) imploring us to ‘drink laaa-ger’, the rattling trills of a Crested barbet, and the raucous melody of a group of Retz’s helmetshrikes, punctuated by the loud buzzing of a fly.
“People like to hear lions, leopards and elephants, but once you start listening to all the sounds that are out there – whether they are birds, frogs, insects or mammals – a whole new world opens up,” Derek had explained in his pre-game drive orientation about why birds call, how lions roar, and other fascinating insights into what we can learn by listening to the wild.
As one of the foremost nature sound experts in Africa, Derek’s conducted sound safaris in many countries over more than three decades of specialist guiding in southern Africa, most of them with his partner Sarah. She’s a quiet presence in the vehicle, adjusting a microphone jack here and a sound level there, always listening. Together, they’ve produced several nature-focused apps and books, and contributed hundreds of records to the website xeno-canto, an online repository of bird calls where anyone can upload, download and share bird sounds.
Balule’s family owned-and-run Sausage Tree Safari Camp is an ideal Lowveld base for the Solomons, who live nearby in the small town of Hoedspruit. Open to Kruger, the 40 000-hectare reserve’s sightings are generally excellent and the camp’s convenient location, delicious catering and comfortable accommodation suit the intimate, special interest groups who tend to book the sound safaris. Derek was especially complimentary about skilled and knowledgeable guides Jimmy and Themba Zwane, who’ve embraced the sound safaris with obvious enthusiasm, helping identify the various calls and interpret their meaning.
“We’re really excited to be offering our guests this option,” said Sausage Tree owner James Carne. Like so many small camps in the Greater Kruger, he and his partner Sonja have had to work every angle to survive the various Covid 19-related travel restrictions, at times running on passion alone. He agrees that the sound safaris suit a more experienced safari-goer – “someone who’s not just after the big five” – and guests who enjoy the privilege of time in the bush with a legend like Derek, whose experience, stories and relentless curiosity make the safari all the richer.
Soon, the elephants’ low rumbles had taken over from the birdsong as they moved towards where Jimmy had parked. Their vocalisations were interspersed with cracking branches, swishing grass, and low rumbles and exhalations that vibrated smoothly and pleasantly through us. The full moon was rising, and the atmosphere was one of calm community. The sounds felt bigger than the sum of their parts, but with each part crucial to the whole.
Earlier, Derek had shared a few distinctive elephant rumbles we might hear, along with a lesson in elephant physiology to explain the range of distinct sounds they make. Citing the work of Dr. Joyce Poole, he told us that elephants use acoustic communication to give information about an immediate situation, are specialists in the production of low frequency sounds, and produce very gentle, soft noises as well as extremely powerful sounds, that can carry for kilometres. Humans can only hear a fraction of them.
“The first time people put on a set of headphones they realise what is out there, what they have missed,” said Derek, making some disparaging remarks about his own hearing, a faculty we tend to take for granted until it wanes. Even thousands of regular and passionate safari-goers use their ears astonishingly little, he notes.
“Listen to that,” he said, delighted when his highly sensitive microphones were able to pick up the rasping of an elephant cow rhythmically scratching her backside against a Marula tree, and the sound of a young bull’s molars grinding the more nutritious outer bark off the branches he was eating. He discarded the indigestible woody inner parts as he ambled past the vehicle.
“It is a bit different with birders, who are often studying calls, and maybe hunters or guides are using their ears more effectively, as they need to listen for danger. Our focus is trying to make people more aware again of what sounds are out there and what they mean,” said Derek.
“And to just enjoy them. Once the bug bites you, it is fun,’’ Sarah added.
While there is lots of sophisticated equipment available, for about R3000 you can buy a full stereo recording mic with some headphones, ‘’and you are good to go,” said Derek, adding that even smart phones can be adequate devices to start recording sounds.
While “soundscapes” play in every corner of nature, finding ones that aren’t impacted by human noise is rare. On Balule, the sensitive microphones pick up the drone of the R40 and the trains that run through Hoedspruit. These human-generated noises recede the further you get from the road though, and your ears quickly learn to filter them out. In summer, the vegetation helps, and the dawn chorus, and insect song is more pronounced.
None-the-less, over the course of our two-night safari in mid-June, we’d eavesdropped on dozens of secret animal conversations, from subaquatic clicks carried through Derek’s hydrophone, to leopards mating, dwarf mongooses alarming and fork tailed drongos doing vocal gymnastics.
“Sound tells us so much. Forest dwellers like the purple-crested turaco or the bushbuck have low, harsh calls that they have to repeat to push their message through the leaves,” noted Derek, as we stopped at a spot along the Olifants River for morning coffee. We’d listened to giraffes feeding en route, and Derek shared that he’s spent many hours trying (unsuccessfully) to record the elusive infrasound of giraffes, which according to studies in zoos, is produced through a neck movement.
The Solomon’s were inspired to explore the world of natural sounds in the mid-1990s by Neville Smithers, a sound engineer in Johannesburg who had developed a small parabola – an umbrella-shaped sound amplifier. When they moved to Zambia in 2003, they took one with and really started listening, recording various species that were not on the Luangwa valley list. “Purely on call we established the presence of three species of flufftail,” said Derek.
According to Derek, it’s a hobby with infinite scope, because the more you learn about sounds, the more you realise how little is known, whether you’re interested in individual species, or just appreciate the complete array of ever-morphing sounds in a landscape.
And the night is still a frontier for sound-recording. “What we know of civet and genet calls come from captive animals. There is a massive scope for new discoveries,” he said, as we watched a genet meld into the shadows on the way back from our first night drive, hearing the lioness that passed by sooner than we did, even with our headphones on.
His biggest influence though was working with renowned sound expert Dr. Bernie Krause, who came to Zimbabwe to record hippo sounds, assisted by Derek. The American author of ‘The Great Animal Orchestra’ had worked with Diane Fossey on gorillas, did work in Borneo and the Amazon and is famous for doing environmental impact studies purely based on sound recordings in the United States. Derek explained how Krause’s work has even used sound to investigate habitat degradation, birds altering calls to battle noise levels and mating frogs going eerily silent due to low-flying aircrafts.
Perhaps one day, building on work by Dr. Poole, Dr. Krause, or Derek, someone will unravel entire animal lexicons, challenging the limits we place on the intelligence, resilience, and consciousness of wild animals.
Back on the vehicle, Derek was clearly in his element, as were the elephants, his favourite species to listen to. Focused, intent, and caught up in the moment, I closed my eyes to concentrate even more on what I was hearing. Two pearl spotted owlets began to call, and in the distance, lions roared.
About Sausage Tree Camp
‘’Having been going on safari throughout Southern and East Africa for more than 30 years, staying in many styles of accommodation, we liked Sausage Tree for its friendly manner, comfortable and roomy tents, good food and excellent guides. After the sound safari we stayed on for another night to further enjoy the camp and its activities.’’ Linda Whatmore, guest.
Sausage Tree Safari Camp has five comfortable, en-suite tents, individually spaced for privacy and views over the plains of Balule. Owner-run and managed by committed conservationists and naturalists James and Sonja Carne, guests are welcomed like friends, and the well-run camp’s vibe is relaxed, close to nature, and unpretentious. The camp’s inviting central living area, pool and elevated dining deck provide many places for guests to gather between activities, which include morning and evening game drives, walks, track and sign-related outings, sound and photographic safaris, and various day tours outside of the reserve. Fully-catered, all meals at Sausage Tree are prepared by their talented chef, with breakfast and lunch served at a communal long table, and dinner served around the fire in the boma. The camp has good traversing over the conservancy, with year-round access to the perennial Olifants River. James, and Sonja’s son, guide Matthew Sussens, also broadcasts live from the reserve via TourHQ to clients all around the world for private interactive safaris in real time for single and multi screens. These virtual tours make awesome birthday presents for family and friends.
