Shot of the Month – January 2009

If you look at this photo and go “Whoa! This guy is scary!” then I have succeeded.

I chose this shot because I feel that it best captures the seething danger embodied by the Cape Buffalo (CB).

Let me repeat,

C-a-p-e   B-u-f-f-a-l-o.

Not water buffalo.

While these animals may look similar, they are two very different creatures.  The water buffalo lives in Asia, not Africa, is slightly larger, and has been domesticated.  Only about 4,000 wild water buffalo exist in the world and they are declining fast.  There are however about 140,000,000 domesticated water buffalo gently wandering around India (over half live there), Nepal, Pakistan, Bhutan, and Thailand.  These animals have been domesticated for over 5,000 years and are used by farmers to toil fields and provide essential meat and milk to humans.  Their dung can be used as fertilizer and fuel when dried.

Cape buffalos live only in Africa, have never been domesticated, and many consider them to be one of the most dangerous animals in the world.  CBs have the honor of being one of the “Big Five” – a phrase used by big game hunters to describe the most difficult and dangerous animals to hunt on foot.  Many hunters consider the CB to be the most dangerous of this illustrious group.  The reason why?  Well, let’s imagine that you are a hunter who shoots a Cape buffalo but the injury is not fatal.  Most wounded animals would do their best to hide in the bush or slink away and recover.  Not the Cape buffalo.  Well, he will sneak away into the bush – not to hide, but to begin his assault on you.  He will stalk you.  He will follow you.  He may circle back on the trail and ambush you from a different direction.  He won’t stop until he has gored you or stomped you to death.  The hunter becomes the hunted.

So, uh, avoid ticking off a Cape buffalo.

Counter to what you might think, if you were walking through the bush and stumbled upon a herd of buffalo you would most likely be safe.  Cape buffalo feel safe and confident when in a herd so they do not feel the need to charge unless seriously provoked.  It is the lone buffalo that you need to worry about.  Male buffalo get irritable as they get old (like many of their human counterparts) and typically will leave the herd and live a solitary life.  If you find a buffalo on his own he may be injured, sick, or in the case of old males, just plain cranky.  Regardless of the cause, a lone buffalo will feel insecure and threatened when encountered and will often lash out.  Stay very, very clear of a lone buffalo.

Cape buffalo are fierce fighters and when attacked often respond as a unified force.  There are many reports of herds of buffalo fighting off hunting lions.  One such scene has been caught in a now-famous YouTube video.  Click here to see the luckiest Cape buffalo calf in the world:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU8DDYz68kM

Bonus:  A reward for those of you who stuck it out to the end of this missive.  Here is the list of the “Big Five” (I know it has been driving you crazy).  In no particular order:

1. Lion
2. Leopard
3. Rhino
4. Elephant
5. Cape Buffalo

Happy New Year!

Shot of the Month – December 2008

Given it is December I thought I should look for an image that is consistent with the holiday season.  The best I could come up with was this photo of some African reindeer.

Ok, ok, they’re not reindeer.  They are Gemsbok.  Also known as Oryx by some.

And they definitely are not at the North Pole — Gemsbok are typically found in some of the hottest spots on the planet and thrive in the deserts, scrublands, and brushlands of Africa.  These chaps were photographed in Botswana in the Kalahari Desert.

Besides their spectacular looks, these creatures are a wonder of adaptation – every aspect of their existence from body shape, to specialized organs, to behaviors, to diet has been perfected to allow these antelopes to survive where most other animals would perish.

While it may seem counterintuitive, being large (about 55” at the shoulder, and up to 550 lbs) helps to survive in the desert.  Their surface area is small in proportion to their mass so they do not heat up nor cool down as quickly as smaller animals.

Gemsbok have learned to graze at night when the moisture content of grasses and plants is higher.  This allows them to get water when none can be found elsewhere for months at a time.  This behavior also allows Gemsbok to be less active during the hottest part of the day.  During the day they retreat to the shade whenever possible to avoid overheating.  At times they will lie down in the shade with their belly on the cooler sand.

No shade available?  In this case, Gemsbok are careful to keep the smallest part of their bodies turned to the sun and the biggest part to the breeze. Their white bellies help to redirect heat and solar radiation from the hot sand away from their bodies.

And we are not done yet.  Gemsbok have two more amazing adaptations up their black and white sleeves.

Most mammals maintain a steady body temperature and release heat by sweating.  When water is plentiful Gemsbok also sweat and maintain a constant body temperature.  But when water is scarce they cannot afford to lose precious moisture in this fashion so they stop perspiring.  They reduce some of the heat by panting and the rest is absorbed by allowing their body temperatures to rise by as much as 7° F to 113° F – a temperature that would cause brain damage in most mammals and kill them.  Why doesn’t it kill the Gemsbok?

Did you notice the long snout on these fellows?  Turns out that the snout is filled with a maze of blood vessels that act like a car radiator.  A network of blood vessels is surrounded by veins carrying blood that has been cooled by evaporation from the nasal passages as the animal breathes.  As warm blood from the heart passes through this network it is cooled as it exchanges heat with the surrounding veins and lowers the temperature of the blood going to the brain.  This heat exchange mechanism can keep the brain 5° F cooler than the rest of the body – the margin between life and death.

Pretty cool, huh?

May you all have a cool yule and a groovy New Year.

Shot of the Month – November 2008

This month I highlight a stunner of the bird world – the Carmine Bee-eater.  I love the name, and find that I cannot say it without applying a poor imitation of a Brooklyn accent (think Rocky, and replace “Adrian” with “Carmine”).

Of course, those of you with a more refined education already know that “carmine” is by definition “A strong to vivid red,” or “A crimson pigment derived from cochineal.”  ( I didn’t know….)

As you can see, it is an apt name for this scarlet fellow.  Carmine Bee-eaters (CBEs) can be found in east and southern Africa though I have personally only ever seen them in Botswana and Zambia.

Most shots of the CBE on my site are from a safari I took in Zambia and most have this tan backdrop—it is sand.  I found a vertical sandbank along a river that was riddled with row after row of holes, which can be up to 8 feet in depth I am told, that CBEs had dug to house their next brood of chicks.  They must raise their chicks quickly while the river level is low—once the rains return the sandbank will be underwater.

Each day I would drive to this spot along the river and I would get out and spend at least an hour peering down from above watching the birds come and go.  I shot hundreds and hundreds of images trying to capture these speedsters as they rocketed in and out of the sand bank.  CBEs are exceptional flyers and routinely catch insects out of the air.  It really is no contest.  Once I saw a large moth make the fatal mistake of flying near a colony of nesting CBEs.  A barrage of CBEs exploded out of the battery. The moth was dive-bombed relentlessly and it was lunch in a matter of seconds. The CBE in this photo has captured a plump insect and is returning home to feed the waiting chicks.

Carmine Bee-eaters are a stunning shade of red that is accentuated in sharp contrast by a metallic-green head and aqua-blue lower back.  And if you catch them just right in the light, you can see that their wings are translucent.

At times dozens of CBEs burst from the side of the river simultaneously– a startling cacophony of movement and hue – an airborne crimson tide that the mind’s eye will not soon forget.

Until next month….:-)

Shot of the Month – October 2008

The story behind this image is not so much about the technical challenges in getting it, there weren’t many, but rather about people’s reaction to it.

This photo is perhaps the most popular image that I have in my collection.  People always respond strongly to it – most comments begin with some verbal variation of “awwwhh….”

I had seen this zebra behavior for many years but could never actually get the shot — by the time I could stop and get set up to take the photo the zebras would invariably move, raise one head, or make some other movement that would ruin that perfect symmetry.

This shot was taken in Tanzania, during a hot afternoon.  With the sun high in the sky the lighting was about as bad as it can get—the light was dull and drained of color.  As we came around a corner I saw that the plain was full of zebras.  I immediately stood up through the open roof of the vehicle and began to scan the horizon.  I knew from previous experience that zebras often displayed this behavior under these types of conditions.  Within a few seconds, I saw the outline of these two zebra and quickly told the driver to stop before we got too close.  I threw the bean bag on the roof of the car and quickly squeezed off a shot with my lens set at its maximum range of 800 mm.  A second later the zebras moved.  I took more shots but only the first one came close to the ideal.  It is often like that—the first shot is your only shot.

I actually find this shot rather, well, boring.  The colors are not very interesting.  I just don’t find it very compelling.  But this is an example where an especially powerful behavior trumps aesthetics.

People react strongly to this shot.  Some give a little gasp.  Others cooo.  People find it highly romantic, cute, endearing, loving–you get the idea.

For the romantics in the crowd, read no further, as I am about to give away the ending.  The reality is that this behavior is less about camaraderie than it is about survival.  It gets tiring standing out there on the plains all day, especially during the hottest part of the day.  It would be great to sit or lie down but that is very dangerous with lions, cheetahs, leopards, and hyenas on the prowl.  So, zebras will stand astride resting their head on their neighbor’s back.  This takes the strain off their neck while still maintaining their diligence in looking for predators.  The “hug” position ensures that no predator can sneak up on them since, as each is looking in the opposite direction, together they have a full 360-degree view of the plain around them.

Zebra are actually quite ornery, ill-tempered creatures.  The males especially are always nipping at each other, fighting, kicking, biting, and engaging in just about any other anti-social behavior you can imagine.  In zoos, zebras typically are kept away from the other animals as they have a habit of biting off the other animal’s tails.

The zebra hug, love, or just survival?  This world could definitely use a few more hugs, so let’s just keep it as our little secret.

Shot of the Month – September 2008

I am always striving to get the “perfect” photo that captures the essence of the subject at hand.  For each type of animal, I have the image in my head and I am eternally looking for it to appear before me.  This photo of a Malachite Kingfisher comes very close to that unattainable goal.

I have long marveled at this tiny burst of color with wings.  They are small, fast, and usually seen only briefly, typically at far distance rendering any thought of a photo as useless.  My portfolio was woefully lacking a good shot of this fellow.

Malachite kingfishers live along bodies of water, typically rivers.  I rarely had an opportunity to photograph them.  This shot was the highlight of a trip that I made to Zambia a few years ago.  Overall the trip was not great for photography—generally, I had seen few animals, even fewer predators and I was rather depressed about it all.

At my last stop of the safari I spent a few days at a camp on the edge of the Zambezi River.  The game drives were producing little so I decided to take an afternoon off and explore the river.  I had seen a couple of malachite kingfishers on a previous outing and I decided to stalk them and see if I could get something worthwhile.

For the next three hours my “pilot” and I cruised slowly among the reeds looking for a flash of color.  It was a cloudy day and a bit windy.  I was not pleased about the dull light but it proved to be a blessing—the subdued light allowed the colors of the bird to really pop out.

So, there I was lying down in the middle of the small boat.  I had several bean bags stacked up on the small metal bench I was supposed to sit on while my 300-800 mm lens rested across the bags pointing forward.  When we saw a bird we would bring the boat around and head either straight for him or within a few feet of him.  As we approached the bank I would have the pilot turn off the engine so we could coast in.  This stopped the vibration from the motor allowing me to shoot, and hopefully made us stealthier and less likely to scare the bird away.

Crouched down in the bottom of the boat I had a very narrow angle of movement with the lens.  As we got closer I would try and shift around and keep the bird in the viewfinder as long as I could.  Eventually, we would slide into the bank and/or into the reeds.  Sometimes the wind would blow us off course.  As we approached I would be shooting feverishly, continually adjusting the focal length of the lens until I was either too close or the subject flew away.

Sometimes the wind would rock the boat or cause mini waves.  The lens was always ready to detect the slightest movement and many shots were blurred.  Invariably there would be plants, leaves, branches, and other obstacles between me and my quarry.

We would approach, shoot, shoot, shoot….bang into the bank…bird flies away.  Repeat.

Repeat

Repeat. Repeat.  Repeat….

A huge lens in a small boat on a windy day trying to shoot a very, very small bird hiding among the long leaves and reeds on the bank of a river.  Not a recipe for success, but very effective in causing cramps, sore neck, watery eyes, and the assorted cursing of “un-niceties.”

It only takes one great shot to make it all worthwhile.  And this is it.  This image really captures the spectacular beauty of the malachite kingfisher.  His stunning blue and aqua cap.  And those red feet—startling.  His beautiful fluffy orange chest all brought into sharp relief with a lovely green backdrop.  And all this is in focus and is very sharp and crisp.  Did I mention that I was using a lens that magnifies the slight hint of the possibility of movement?  On a small boat?  Windy?

Another small miracle—well two really: the bird itself, and getting this image.

I have learned over the years that every safari gives you something special.  Sometimes it just appears before you and other times you have to try something different and be willing to adapt to the opportunities you find.  And often you have to be prepared to work for it.

In this case, it worked out brilliantly.