It had been the Okavango Delta’s driest year for some time. The whole of southern Africa had felt the effects of the drought and all life was desperate for rain. The early morning was overcast as we drove out of a wooded island and onto the floodplain not far from Mombo Camp. There was a herd of elephant out in the open which looked a little edgy, which we put down to the fact that they had been away for some time and were still experiencing the food stress associated with the long dry season.
We stopped the vehicle a good distance away, giving them plenty of room, and watched. The herd milled around the matriarch briefly and then she turned toward us and the whole herd charged.
This was not the norm and our seasoned Mombo guide chose to wait and hold position. I was shooting as fast as I could to capture all the action. It’s not possible to gauge distance accurately looking through the viewfinder of a camera, particularly when what you are seeing is so compelling, but when the matriarch filled the viewfinder I put the camera down and watched.
In that moment I knew she was going to hit us. The rest of the herd broke away as she put her tusk under the front left wheel well of the LandRover and tried to roll the vehicle over. Thankfully, she didn’t manage she and backed off moving away, soon followed by the rest of the herd.
Unusually, that day I was working with fellow photographer Dana Allen. My abiding memory of the incident will always be of the moment she hit us and Dana calmly reaching back into his camera bag to get his wide-angle, presumably to get the picture of her turning us over.
