Sprache wechseln
The back door slammed shut as we finished the seventh school on the itinerary of vision testing around the Okavango Delta. Anton explained the next part of our journey would be taking us into a remote part of Botswana that rarely saw tire tracks most of the year. This year saw particularly heavy rains, and even fewer tire tracks for that reason. Our four-vehicle caravan rolled up to a distinct sign on the increasingly rugged road. In so many words it read “cross this line…and you’re on your own.” Anton radioed to the group: “Well, my friends, there’s no turning back now. Once we’re in. We’re in.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little skeptical of the true intensity that lay ahead. In just a matter of minutes my skepticism would be put to rest. Floating through the soft and sandy two track with the roar of the engine reaching a new level, the steering wheel resisted any sort of instruction as we weaved our way into the bush. No sooner had the words “Be on the watch for elephants” left Anton’s mouth when my knees hit the dash of the Defender.
“Elle! Elle straight ahead!”
My eyes strained to focus as I looked through the windshield, only to see an adult female elephant charging directly at us. As if from a scene in Jurassic Park, Anton calmly said: “Do not move. At all.”
The soft click of my camera lens was all that I responded with. I watched in awe as she came to an abrupt halt, digging in her front heels and shaking the dust off her now fully deployed ears. A few seconds later and the whole encounter was over, leaving the convoy at a loss for words. As Anton put the car into gear again and slowly rolled past the elephant tracks, I had gained a whole new perspective on what the word “wild” meant in Southern Africa.
Pushing through kilometres of increasingly difficult terrain revealed just how important each member of this team would be in the hours and days to come. Karl, the resident optometrist for 4x4Outfar, along with his wife Adi, often held the group together with a mixture of caffeine and light-hearted banter. Keeping spirits up across the radio as the height of water crossings went from lug nut, to over-tire, and at times over the hood, or as they say in South Africa, “over the bonnet.” Cam, our fearless videographer, was often running barefoot at full speed back and forth between rigs to capture the true nature of what we were getting ourselves into.
The farther we crept into the wilderness, the more the road began to turn to mud, Bogging down our extremely well-equipped vehicles and creating hour-long rescue missions. Ivor, a skilful man of few words, and his daughter Megan, took up the role of leading our pack through unknown water. Our routine of “walking it” became an all too familiar occurrence when staring down the 50-meter watering holes on our route. At times we even made the decision to cut a new road alongside the standing water, only to find stubborn mud, stumps, and the occasional downed trees. Hour after hour we made our way through the bush, until a moment came that felt uncomfortably quiet. 90 kilometres into our push, with another 60 kilometres still ahead of us, the engine in Anton’s Defender came to a sputtering halt. We were officially stuck.
The sun was shining down on miles and miles of wilderness in every direction, and we were right in the middle of it. Noticing our journey had gone from a confident yet progressive struggle to a much more serious scenario, Anton reached for the satellite phone to send out an SOS.
Not knowing if help would make its way to us before sundown, we made our best effort to pull the Defender with a tow line through mangled bush road. Ultimately, we realised that the Defender had to be left behind. Grabbing only the bare essentials, we packed Anton, his wife Melita, and daughter Cayla into the remaining three vehicles and watched Anton’s Defender disappear into the bush through the rear view mirrors.
It was clear with one vehicle down, the stakes became higher at each water crossing. Knowing that if something else failed, our likelihood of getting out would be close to zero. Chatter continued to come across the radio as we raced the daylight. As we watched the soggy green landscape pass by, our eyes grew wide hearing the radio crackle. Adi’s voice came through with the words, “rigs on the horizon!” A wave of relief washed over the entire team. We were greeted soon after by two safari patrols sent out from a lodge to respond to Anton’s SOS.
Hopping out of our vehicles we shared a moment of pure gratitude with our new lodge companions. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anton with his head buried in a well-deserved moment of emotion. Knowing our journey wasn’t over yet, Anton joined the safari convoy retracing our path to recover his beloved vehicle. Let’s just say that the radio was full of light-hearted jokes as we pressed on.
On the final leg of our trek to the other side of the Okavango Delta, we found ourselves in another pickle. The safari patrol leading the way home fell to the same fate as we had so many times earlier. Wheels buried and high-centred in the mud. This was almost routine for them, and we watched the locals demonstrate their seemingly effortless recovery skills. In a fraction of the time we would have spent ourselves, they used the surroundings to their advantage and were back in action. As fate would have it, Anton’s Defender was able to be rebooted and he even managed to switch roles, giving an assist to the bogged-down safari patrol… Something I don’t think he’ll let any of us forget any time soon.
The rest of our community vision work with 4x4Outfar went off without a hitch. Each village we were able to visit and provide testing would become a testament to the resilience only to be found in a team that is truly committed to its mission. When all was said and done, this trip would see the 4x4Outfar team provide vision testing for over 2,000 children, and distribute 86 pairs of prescription eyeglasses to some of the most deserving and compassionate communities I’ve ever encountered.
On the return trip to the airport, Anton expressed how grateful he and his team have been for the love and support they’ve received from the iKamper community around the world. How much it means to them to be able to go out and do this work to Love People & Love Nature. I told him that one wouldn’t exist without the other.
As the plane took off, I got one last look down at that line in the wild I saw weeks ago. Returning my gaze to the seat back in front of me, I couldn’t help but write these few words down: “The wrong road for the right reasons…the legend of Anton Poplett.”
Text: Eric Gordon | Images: Eric Gordon, Cameron Stuart and courtesy of Anton Poplett
