By Andy Crawford, field crew
Brad and I assumed that we could continue our lives as a filming team once our child was born. We had great visions of slinging up a hammock in the back of the filming vehicle to rock the little guy to sleep, and Brad even went so far as to design a mini chair to attach to his camera box between our two front seats where Rio would happily sit, gurgling away contentedly as we bounced through aardvark holes and over anthills in our quest for interesting subjects to film. Stupidly we expected him to behave in a civilised manner and be quiet while we filmed these interesting subjects.
To say this was naive is an understatement. It quickly became apparent that either the job or the kid had to go, but the two were clearly mutually exclusive. As it turned out Rio and I went and Brad got Nick to be the new me, in most respects …
Post-children I have not been able to venture out into the bush as much as I would have liked. As much as I miss it, this is probably not a bad thing considering the situations we have often found ourselves in. One incident that immediately springs to mind is the memorable day Brad came within 10 seconds of being devoured by lions. Had we had children at that stage I would have been put in an untenable situation and Brad would probably not be here today.
It was early evening and we had returned to our camp after a full day filming. At that stage our camp consisted of nothing more than a tent and a long drop toilet. Our vehicle served as our primary home and was better equipped than the camp. We would often sleep, cook, shower and live out of our vehicle for days on end and had learnt how to do this surprisingly comfortably. That evening I set about attempting to make something for dinner. As Brad can subsist on biltong and tinned tuna for weeks on end I was catering solely to my own food cravings and was busy in the back of the filming vehicle making a salad (which is just about the best I can do considering I am the world’s worst cook).
Brad had ventured into the flood plain about 60m (200ft) away from where our vehicle was parked by our tent. He was watching the sunset and enjoying the solitude – a very necessary thing when living together 24/7. One can tend to get frazzled by the constant togetherness and as much as possible, one tries to find some space for oneself. I was in the process of cutting up a green pepper when I heard what I thought was possibly a shout. A good rule of thumb in the bush is to investigate all unusual noises. I am very well aware of this but on this occasion I continued to chop the pepper, wondering vaguely what that noise could have been. My failure to react at that point probably had much to do with the fact that Brad and I had spent six months solidly filming and the longest we had been physically apart during this time was about three hours. We had had a rather fraught day and frankly, I couldn’t have cared less about what Brad was up to or why he was making odd noises at dusk.
About two minutes later (in retrospect I wonder why so long) I heard Brad yell ‘Bring a torch, there is a lion!’ Thankfully my instincts kicked in (had my rational self been in charge I may well have left him there to get eaten) and I leapt like a superhero into the driver’s seat and floored it to where I assumed Brad was, lettuce, tomatoes, cutlery and crockery flying out the open sides of the vehicle. It was dark at this stage and in the headlights I could just make out Brad.
As I got closer I saw he had three lions (two males and a female) all within about 2m (6ft) of him, all fully focused on him. Our vehicle has no doors so I drove up to Brad and he leapt in. A simple rescue.
As Brad explained to me afterwards, he had been sitting watching the sun set and contemplating the universe. The sun had disappeared below the horizon and it had started to get dark. He was quietly swatting away mosquitos (as one does in Botswana) and when he looked up he saw the silhouette of a lioness walking from left to right, about 10m (33ft) in front of him. He wasn’t sure at this stage whether she had noticed him, so he stayed still and silent, hoping she would just walk on by. As it turns out she didn’t just walk on by. She spotted him and started to approach him, head low and curious. Brad was not particularly worried at this stage as lions are generally afraid of humans.
I have seen Brad on foot with lions on a number of occasions and if approached by a lion the trick is to simply reveal yourself as a human. For example, if crouching, stand up. If standing, shout and wave your arms. The lion then runs off. When it became clear that this lioness thought he may be a meal and had approached to within about 5m (16ft) of him he stood up and shooed her away. She turned and ran off, obviously a little put out that this thing was bigger that she thought. The lioness, however, only ran off a few metres and turned to face him again. Lions are much bolder at night and clearly this lioness wasn’t put off by the fact that Brad was a human. Brad’s next trick was to throw something at her, however he had nothing on him, no knife, no torch, not even a pair of shoes that would have been useful ammunition at that stage. Instantly, he decided he had only one option and charged at her flailing and waving and yelling.
This was the initial shout that I had heard but (subconsciously) decided not to investigate. As he did this, a young male lion ran at him from his left. He had not been aware that this lion was there and it was at this stage that he yelled for a torch. I am consistently amused by the fact that in the circumstances this is what he elected to shout out. It is a measure of his butchness that he yells ‘Bring a torch!’ Lesser beings would have yelled ‘help!’ or ‘Bring a gun!’ or probably just yelled. My heroic husband had made a split-second decision that if he had a torch he could fend them off. In desperation Brad rushed at the young male but as he did this he was forced to turn his back on the female who then made a charge at him. Brad was wheeling around between the two when another male approached. Now three lions were within leaping distance of him (a truly horrible situation) and it would only have been a matter of seconds before one of them made the initial attack.
Although Brad was only aware of three lions, with the help of the vehicle headlights and spotlight we counted 11 lions. It was a pride we had watched a few days earlier killing a buffalo cow using the same tactic. When lions are after larger, slower prey such as buffalo (and people stranded on flood plains) they do not have to rely on stealth and speed. Instead, they surround the victim and leap on it when its back is turned.