Chimpanzee and Chimpanzee Habitat Surveys across the GME

Ntakata Blog (Hakuna Matata Ntakata)

 

It’s a far leap from learning about primates in lectures and watching YouTube videos about their behaviour in class to conducting a population survey of chimpanzees in Western Tanzania. For one thing there are far more metaphorical mountains to climb during a university semester than literal ones. We (myself & co-survey leader, Devon) had unfortunately missed the first two weeks of surveys conducted in the first of two camps in Ntakata due to Devon suffering from malaria. We were thoroughly jealous of the environments that our team had the privilege to explore before our arrival. We weren’t jealous for long, however, as the trek to our second camp took us through some strikingly beautiful scenery. 

     We were walking just as the annual fires in the area were beginning and the unburned areas were covered in long grasses, shades of golds and yellows that swayed with the wind. We walked along lightly trodden and uneven paths with loose stones strewn along it ready to wobble underfoot the moment you tried to take in the view. While we walked along the top of mountain plateaus, land stretched out on either side, allowing us to see for miles. Valleys were filled with patches of green riparian forests, where we could tell rivers flowed through the landscape as the greens darkened. I regularly hummed the Lord of the Rings soundtrack.

     We had traversed the mountains of Ntakata from the first camp, approximately 15 kilometres to the second camp with tents, food, camera traps and research equipment in tow. Our ‘mpishi’ (cook in Kiswahili) prepared us a hearty meal of beans and ugali (a local dish described as ‘stiff porridge’) to fill our tummies and replenish our strength. The only thing left to do was get some sleep. What followed were two weeks of clambering up extremely steep slopes, looking for chimp nests, and the satisfaction of sitting around a campfire with friends after overcoming the physical challenges of a day. 

      Some particular highlights included heading out each day to conduct transects in the coolness of the morning and watching the sunrise over the landscape, and Devon and I seeing our first red colobus monkeys, discovering the joys of their squeaky (almost sci-fi-esque) vocalisations. One particularly special moment was standing halfway up a hill, and hearing chimps in the valley below calling and hooting away. 

      Each night we would sit and teach one another new words in either Kiswahili or in English. My British & alien pronunciation of Swahili words caused great amusement and the team were always encouraging in helping with my vocal articulations. Apparently the British accent speaking Swahili sounds like it’s ’restricted’ and ‘tight’. I imagine something like somebody trying to talk through a kazoo but I hope I’m wrong. My new favourite Swahili words are ‘kuanguka’ (to fall), ‘birika’ (kettle…a essential term for any Brit looking for a cuppa tea) and ‘kupiga chafya’ (to sneeze). 

      After dinner, we would retire to our tents exhausted and each evening we would doze off to the sounds of two owls (African wood owls, I hesitantly suggest) hooting at each other. It was thought that they were singing a ‘wimbo wa upendo’ or in English a ‘song of love’. 

Asante sana Ntakata, you were amazing. Next stop Kashagulu…let’s see what challenges and wonders you have in store.

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Not long after we filled our water bottles from the Lugonesi river, the cows arrived to take a drink, too. These cows were ‘Ankole’ cattle. They sport particularly long horns and are common throughout much of the area around the southern coast of Lake Tangynika. Often belonging to the largest tribe in Tanzania, the Sukuma, these impressively horned bovines are also a common sight throughout much of Western Tanzania, but represent a potential threat to especially wildlife habitat. 

      Our first day at each survey site tends to be the same but never disappointing. We split into groups, each carrying heavy rucksacks with equipment and set out to find the best location for camera traps and audio sensors. We thoroughly enjoy these remote devices as they allow a glimpse into the lives of animals that we would rarely observe. Once the devices are deployed, it’s a waiting game to learn what they’ve detected in our absence!

We spent the following weeks navigating the steady and intense hills of Kashagulu forest. Once we crossed, trudged and sweated our way over the peaks we were treated to spectacular views of the lake and savored the breeze that rolled off its waters. Lake T is the second oldest and deepest as well as second largest (by volume) lake in the world. Throughout the forests that overlook its water, we regularly heard the calls of southern ground hornbills. These large birds are a pleasure to both eyes and ears. They trundle along the ground with black and white plumage and bright red faces embellished with throat wattles. Their calls are low and serve the function of defending territory or attracting a mate and sound like a deep panpipe. These brilliant birds will also inflate their throat sacs to scare off predators with load calls. 

     We also regularly encountered bushbuck (or in KiSwahili: pongo). Typically, encounters are fleeting and from 40-50m, from which they detect our presence early. However, on the last day when a field assistant (George) and I were collecting camera traps, we heard a harsh, raspy bark reverberate across the hills. We stopped to listen further when a commotion in the bushes in front of us grabbed our attention. A rustling sound was coming closer and closer until we realised it was the hooved footfall of a bushbuck frantically running...towards us! Suddenly a female bushbuck burst through the foliage, her path intersected with where we were standing, all of us paralyzed in shock! Two male bushbucks in pursuit erupted in a shower of leaves from the same bushes frm where she had emerged. Upon seeing us, they immediately bolted to avoid us – a relief to everyone undoubtedly!

Ultimately, our cameras detected other bushbucks, mongooses, and even a leopard (in Kiswahili: chui), which spent most of her time investigating the scent of either the camera or more likely, my sweaty hands fiddling with the controls and straps when I deployed it. 

     Ultimately, we packed up our small camp, said goodbye to the red colobus monkeys that had slept in the tree behind our tent (squeaking throughout the night) and the soft hums of the crowned hornbills. 

     Photos (from the authors) below of (from left, clockwise) base camp near the Lugonesi River, crossing the Lugonesi, uninvited visitors to camp, Kalya village, a crowned hornbill).