The Crossing

September 16, 2024: The Mara River crossing tests the wildebeests’ resolve.  The grass is greener on the other side, but death may wait in the river.  

“I bless the rains down in Africa” – Toto
“I chase the rains down in Africa” – the Great Migration

Remember Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom?  Each Sunday at 6pm, Marlin Perkins and Jim Fowler explored an exotic locale populated with amazing animals.  My favorite episodes were about the Great Migration on the Serengeti, with great herds wildebeest and zebra surging across the Mara River, hoping to avoid hungry crocs and other predators. 

Our second Nyumba (camp) was in the Northern Serengeti, near the Mara River, where we hoped to witness one of those dramatic crossings.

The Great Migration

The Great Migration is one of the most incredible spectacles on earth.  Millions of wildebeest, along with hundreds of thousands of zebra and gazelle, continuously travel a clockwise circuit of 1200 miles as they follow the seasonal rains across the Serengeti National Park in Tanzania and into the Maasai Mara National Game Reserve in Kenya. 

June brings the dry season, when an unrelenting sun dries the Serengeti (Maasai for “endless plains”), and the great herds migrate north, chasing the patchwork flush of green that follows pop-up thundershowers across the vast plains. 

Eventually the hungry ruminants reach the Mara River, and there they pause. 

And so do all the safaris!

Waiting at the Mara

The Mara is unassuming, and appears little different than the Kaw River where I grew up: lazy brown water meandering through sparsely treed plains.  But the river is not benign, as crocodiles lie in wait.  The crocs may feast only once or twice a year – on the great herds as they cross going north to the Maasai Mara and return south to the Serengeti.

Smelling the rain distant, the herds move – some meandering, some running – towards the Mara.  And above the bank, the safari vehicles lurk, waiting for the surge of animals to leap off banks and charge across the river.

On our first afternoon, we waited eagerly with several other safaris as a large herd of wildebeest crowded the far bank.  We were excited; it seemed a crossing was imminent. But a herd of wildebeest is called a “confusion” for good reason.  A lone cow at the edge of the crowd diverted for a bit of grey-green grass.  Two or three turned to follow.  Soon, the whole herd dispersed, their urgency forgotten.

Ali, our guide, shared that safari-goers may wait days and never see the crossing, which is subject to the whims of rain and temperament.  Someone joked “we needed a lion to scare them across!” We laughed at the imagined theatrics.  And then we waited, and waited some more. Eventually, we moved on.

Grisly Evidence

Nearby we found the grisly evidence of an earlier crossing.  Buzzards balanced as they shredded zebra and wildebeest carcasses lying midstream.  Gorged crocs lazed in the sun nearby.

The crocodiles are not the only dangers.  Some herd animals are trampled or downed in the chaotic crossings.  And nearby, lions command large territories.  They feast as the herds roam through, as do the leopards, hyena, and cheetah.

Impasse

On our second outing, we paused with a few other vehicles near a small herd of wildebeest and waterbuck crowded on a gravel bar as they mustered for a crossing.  They seemed anxious to cross, but were wary of a pair of giraffes waiting to drink on the opposite bank.  When either side made a move toward the water, it spooked the other.  As we waited impatiently for the impasse to end, the wildebeest started to disperse.  It seemed we would miss another crossing. 

And then…

The Lioness

“Holy ****! Look!” someone whispered, and we turned.  Coming down the hill behind our trucks was a lioness, the first we’d seen.  She languidly strolled right by us and into the tall grass near the river, and began to stalk the herd.  The scene we’d fancifully imagined the day before was about to become reality.

The Crossing

In a moment, panic erupted on the sandbar.  The confusion of wildebeest crashed across the river and up the far bank, sweeping the giraffe along.  The waterbucks hesitated.  Seeing that no wildebeest were snagged by crocs, they sprang through the Mara as well.  A lone confused buck remained on our side of the river.  The lioness, having missed her prey, panted on the sandbar, eyeing the buck.

Still Thirsty

As the dust settled, we waited for the tense scene on the gravel bar to resolve itself.  We were entertained by a gang of mongoose, scuttering about oblivious to the drama.  When we finally departed, the standoff continued: a hungry lioness, a wary buck, and a giraffe spying from the opposite bank, still thirsty.