The Fate of the Black Rhino

by Peter Tonge
December 2000

The spring rains came on time and in abundance to the South African landscape this year and from the air the veld looks as lush and green as ever I have known it as we fly in to Johannesburg. Good rains, never certain anywhere in Africa, are always a cause for gratitude, even celebration. They are good for the country, good for the farmers - and particularly good for the wildlife. And wildlife is the whole purpose of our visit.

We, Ecology Communications, spent the first half of November in South Africa, principally at the Hluhluwe-Umfolozi game park, a three-hour drive north of the port city of Durban in KwaZulu-Natal. It is the home of the greatest concentration of rhino, black and white anywhere in the world and we had come looking for answers to the question that haunts wildlife conservationists: Can the black rhino, now on the brink of extinction, be saved?

What we found were some very encouraging signs but, as yet, no guarantee that the species will be saved. There is however a sense of optimism among game rangers and conservationists that was almost nonexistent a few years back. It would seem that the tide of wanton slaughter has begun to turn.

It's hard to believe that an entire species could all but vanish in just three decades, wiped out because their horns are so highly prized in the marketplaces of Hong Kong and the Yemen.

As recently as the late 1960s some 70,000 black rhino roamed the plains of Africa. Today, the most recent count puts the number at 2,700. The rhino horn is no more than tightly matted hair and cartilage, but in the Far East it's thought to have remarkable curative powers and to a Yemeni, there is no finer material from which to craft a dagger handle.

With such a high value placed on the horns, the rewards of illegal poaching are almost irresistible on a continent of widespread poverty and civil unrest. Moreover, liberation wars and cold war confrontations saw AK47s, the weapon of choice for poachers, strewn all over the plains of Africa.

The Russian weapon is remarkable for the abuse it can take and still keep firing. A conservation officer says he has unearthed several, remnants of the struggle against apartheid, buried on the Hluhluwe reserve for who knows how many months or years. "But, brush away the soil and its ready to fire," he says in some admiration.

Wildlife conservation is largely a concern of the West and therefore, in African eyes, of the white man. But Dr. Ian Player, who led the program that saved the white rhino from the fate now faced by the black, is filled with praise for the many Africans who helped him. He also notes that encouraging headway is being made elsewhere in Africa in educating local populations.

When people recognize that rhino are major tourist attractions and that tourist dollars create local jobs they are more ready to become eyes and ears in the war on poaching. Why should a few men become rich from killing rhino when live rhino will help raise living standards for many more is the rationale behind this approach.

South Africa, struggling with a poor economy and soaring crime rates fuelled by widespread poverty, has seen tourist numbers decline markedly over the years. But the game parks remain popular. Lions, leopards, elephants, rhino and buffalo, the "big five" as they are called, hold an almost irresistible attraction to overseas visitors. So do stately giraffe, playful zebra and the ever-so-graceful antelope. Even cavorting baboons bring cars to a stop at the roadside.

During our week at Hluhlue's Hill Top Camp, South African accents are principally those of the staff and tour operators. French and Dutch accents are plentiful, but on this occasion German tones predominate in the dining room each evening. In contrast, the only American accents are those of my colleagues until our last day when we take breakfast alongside two couples from Chicago.

One man, a businessman temporarily stationed in Durban has brought out his wife and two good friends and they've come to the park for a few days. Republicans all, they had cheered wildly in the African bush for a George W. Bush victory in the presidential elections, only to find their celebration premature.

Most South Africans are indifferent as to who wins the election with at least one exception. Dr. Player is passionate about the US election. "God help us (environmentalists) if Bush gets in." is his terse comment. As Vice President, Al Gore had visited with Player on a trip to South Africa and in a recent interview indicated that, Dr. Player, would be one of those invited to the White House if he became president.

Player, elder brother of former golfing great, Gary Player who twice won the US Masters tournament at Augusta, is confident the black rhino will endure if the practices put in place to save the white rhino in the 1950s are repeated. "We placed a ring of steel around the rhino," Player says of those days. By that he means that fences surrounding the reserve were strengthened and patrolled by armed wardens. In addition as many individual animals as possible were identified and closely monitored over the years.

In the 1950s all this was done on horseback. Today a tranquilizing dart will drop a rhino within five minutes. Back then it took 20 and horse and rider had to dash through the bush to keep track of the animal until it dropped.

All this is now done from the air as we observed. A program of identification, funded by the World Wildlife Fund, was underway when we visited the park. And we're invited to come along.

A fixed wing aircraft is used to spot the rhinos at which stage a helicopter crew is called in to dart the rhino, land close to the fallen animal, notch the ears for easy future identification, then administer the antidote and get out.

A quick exit is out of the question when producer and camera woman Maureen McNamara accompanies the chopper to take close up shots of the entire operation. Only when the ranger administers the antidote, one minute away from a fully mobile rhino does he instruct McNamara. "Get up a tree. Quick" he says. Seconds later he shoves her unceremoniously up into the relative safety of the tree canopy.

"Never, ever run from a rhino," we are told. "If you run you are dead!" Rhinos have very poor eyesight but good hearing and an exquisite sense of smell. They charge movement seldom the man who stands rock still behind the tree he has not had the time to climb.

Back-up cameraman Steve Marx is next to be up a tree when faced by a rhino. He is out with a foot patrol when they come across a lone cow. She is curious, rather than annoyed by all the movement deliberately made to attract her attention. She trots forward to investigate and prods the tree immediately below Marx's foot. He captures everything on camera.

At top speed of 36 miles an hour the 3,000-pound rhino would easily have demolished the relatively small tree. But that is not the case and Marx returns with a story he will, one day, tell his grandchildren.

Hopefully, if the ongoing programs at Hluhluwe-Umfolozi are adopted elsewhere, they will know just what he is talking about.

Almost certainly the black rhino will survive in South Africa. It remains to be seen if the same will be said of the rest of Africa.