Chapter One- Arrival

The overloaded two ton groaned on up the road towards camp, and as we neared we passed the communal water hole, located a few kilometers below camp, just off the tar road. Next we passed a long L-shaped row of shops and bottle stores, all closed up of course, at the main intersection of the Gokwe road and the Sengwa Mine road. A turn to the west here would take you across a small valley to the old Sengwa mine, about 10 kilometers distant. Carved into the side of a low mountain range that defined the west side of the valley, the mine had long since closed, but it had a functioning airstrip that the Company occasionally used to fly in clients. We called this intersection “downstairs”, as from here the road began to climb sharply, leveling out several hundred feet higher at the top of the rise, just past the trail into camp. We continued past the turn off for Zhomba, a small village 7 kilometers west of the tar road, in the middle of the valley below camp. It had a police station which consisted of a large surplus military tent, and a small outhouse sized box used to lock up prisoners, along with a clinic, several general stores, and a couple of soccer fields on the outside of the village. It also had the only functioning well nearby and we frequently got our drinking water there.

   At about 12:30 we turned onto the final leg of the journey, the trail to camp. The trail, or road as some people cheerfully refer to it, is a deeply rutted, sandy, bumpy hill climb from start to finish. At about 3 kilometers long it’s a test of any vehicle, and no ordinary car I know would ever make it. The two ton rocked and rolled over the ruts, bogged down a little in the sand, but kept going forward, and ultimately we rolled into camp just before 1AM.

   We were both a little hungry, so Troy woke up the cook and waiter, had them fix us some food and a little tea, and then we crashed into bed for a few hours sleep.

    We woke before 6, and as the sun was up I decided to tour the camp I had last seen 3 years earlier. It had changed considerably since I had last been there, and all for the better. It had been completely rebuilt during the rainy season in April, which is why Dudley had wanted me there so soon.

   The camp sits on the west end of a high plateau, overlooking the valley to the west. It sits out on a spit of land that breaks away sharply on the east and west sides, so one gets a beautiful view of the valley on one side, and the road downstairs to the other. There is a small parking lot as you first pull into the compound, with thatched roofing to cover 4 trucks.  A reed wall separates the parking area from the kitchen, and entry is gained through an open doorway in the wall. Inside the kitchen area is a small block building to the right which houses a store room and pantry on one end, and the camp office on the other. Inside the office is the bush radio used to communicate twice daily with the Company office in West Nicholson. The frequency is shared by all the safari operators in the area and through an informal schedule, we had half an hour twice a day, at 6:30AM and PM.

   The kitchen itself consisted of an area about 4 meters square, enclosed by a half wall made of concrete block, and covered with a sheet metal roof. The open walls allowed for lots of light and ventilation when cooking. There was a raised open fire place inside, with a metal grate over the top, and a cast iron stove fired with wood, which was used for all the camp cooking. The daily ironing was also conducted in the kitchen, using old irons, also made of cast iron that were filled with hot coals from the fire to provide heat. In all my life, I have never had laundry done cleaner, or creases ironed sharper than in a safari camp, and Gokwe would be no exception.

   Behind the kitchen area was an open compound about an acre in size where various activities were conducted, including major truck maintenance, water storage, and wood cutting. At the far end of that opening was the skinning shed, which housed the salt piles and also freezers for storing meat. Attached to the shed was a small room that sheltered the generator, which ran twice a day. It fired up in early morning for a few hours to give clients some light and cool down the freezers, and again in early evening for a few more hours of light. If there were no clients in camp the evening session was usually skipped.

   To the side of the skinning shed was the workers compound, surrounded by thatch fence. I was never invited inside during the season, and consequently only saw it through the gaps in the fence. It was a small village, as many of the workers had their families with them during the season, and it was filled with small mud wall huts, cooking fires, and laundry hanging from rope strung here and there.

   To the front of the kitchen area was the client camp, and this had been completely rebuilt since my last hunt.

   Separated from the rest of the compound by a tall bamboo type fence, access was gained through an opening in the fence from the parking area.

   The main compound was built in a circular shape, with three huts for camp staff and professional hunters on the left. Inside the common area near the middle was the dining hut, built with half mud walls, and a high thatch roof that provided a cool respite from the hot sun. It could seat 16 or so people. All the huts were connected by walkways covered in loose stone, and interspersed were small piles of large rocks that looked like sculptures.

   To the right was a new bar, built near the edge of the high cliff overlooking Zhomba and the valley below. At the far end of the valley, if the smoke from the cooking fires wasn’t too thick, one could see the Sengwa mine carved into the mountainside. The bar itself was built in a half circle, with a low thatch roof that you had to duck under to enter. The bar was a concrete slab supported by a mud wall, and just the right height to lean on when the drinks had been mixed a little too strong. Off the front of the bar was a concrete slab about 10 meters across with a fire pit built into the middle. It was the perfect spot to relax after a long day in the bush, and one could sit quietly and listen to the sounds of life rising from the valley floor.

   Completing the circular arrangement from the end of the bar were 4 huts or chalets for clients. They were arranged so they had a view of the valley from the front door. As with the staff huts, these were all built with mud walls about 1 and a half meters high, with high thatch roofs whose sides came to just below the lip of the wall. It allowed for excellent ventilation, yet complete privacy, as well. Each hut had a private shower off the main room, which was fed by a 20 liter bucket hoisted over a beam above the shower floor. The bucket had a sprinkler head on the bottom that could be opened and closed by the client. There was also a private, flushing toilet in each client hut, fed by a 50 gallon drum of water perched on a wooden platform outside the hut. On the staff side of the compound the huts had private showers, but we shared two common toilets, each in a separate hut behind our chalets.

   Behind the staff chalets was the rifle range. It featured a solid concrete shooting bench sitting on a concrete pad, and protected with a thatch roof. There were permanent target pits placed at 50 and 100 paces.

   All in all, these were 5 star accommodations in my view, and it was a grand place to call home. 

   The staff huts are built with two sides, with the common wall being where the showers are located, giving each half some soundproofing. . Each side has a separate entry door, and could sleep 4 men comfortably, although I was alone in my half.

   When I woke, Troy was already up, and introduced me to the second appie in camp, Dylan.

   At 19 years old, he had been an employee of the Company for less than a year. Standing about 5 feet 6, he had short brown hair, a lean build, and a slightly intense air of impatience about him. I would see him off and on throughout the season.   For whatever reason, fate decreed that he and I would be together for most of the actual hunting I did, although not all. We would hunt elephants, explore bushman caves, consider and discard uncounted get rich schemes, track down native artifacts, pool our knowledge of women, try to solve the various problems confronting the world, and in general behave as two Small Boys having the time of their lives.

 He was a typical kid in some ways, brash, impatient, full of himself, and on occasion, thoroughly irritating. But something happened to him once in the bush. He became serious, focused, and utterly dependable. He would end up earning the respect of a professional hunter who was very difficult to impress, and before the season was over, he saved Dudley Rogers from almost certain destruction by a bull elephant which charged after Dudley’s rifle misfired.

   After the introductions were made I began to get settled in. With no clients in camp the pace was a little slower, although preparations were underway for an elephant hunt two days hence.

   I unpacked my belongings and after some breakfast, decided to get my guns squared away. This naturally brought Troy and Dylan around and we spent some time discussing my arsenal and shouldering the various guns.

   I needed to check the zero on the .416, so we headed out to the range and set a target at the 100 meter line. I was pleased that the rifle was still in zero with the 400 gr. Softs, and the factory monolithic solids were only striking about an inch off, but extraction with the solids was difficult. The first round required a strong bolt lift to open, and as the action heated up from subsequent rounds it became harder and harder. Accuracy didn’t seem affected, and I wasn’t sure if there was a problem with a tight bore, or high pressures, or something else going on. I borrowed a couple of rounds that Dylan had for his company .416, as they certainly came from a different lot of ammunition. Same problem, with solids the bolt was getting progressively harder to lift after firing and it could only be done with the rifle dismounted from the shoulder.

Not sure what to do, I relegated the rifle to use with soft points until I could find a solution.....