We spent the rest of the day getting organised for our trip down to Ithumba. The camp and release centre are conveniently placed around Ithumba Mountain, a great rocky outcrop 300m (1000 feet) tall that stands alone on the plains of Northern Tsavo. It can be seen from kilometres away and was used because it was easy to locate when the Kenya Wildlife Service was first created and roads through the newly formed park were not even marked out.

Getting there by road is quite a challenge. We would need to take the main road from Nairobi towards Mombasa for about 150 kilometres or so to the town of Kibwezi. From Kibwezi we would travel east – dirt roads all the way – for about another 90 kilometres into the park and to the foot of the mountain. There were, however, major roadworks just outside of Nairobi and to avoid the worst of the delays, our driver took us up through the mountains to the east of the highway, towards Machakos before returning to the main road south about eighty kilometres south at Sultan Hamud. It was a dramatic drive through steep-sided mountain valleys, all much greener than the high plains around Nairobi.

We actually made good time, loaded down as we were with supplies for the week, arriving at Ithumba by late afternoon with time to visit the Trust’s stockade just before sunset to see the orphans return from their days foraging. The orphans range from about three years of age up to around eight or ten years. As they get older, they start to leave the stockade and spend more and more time with either a wild group or the now-wild group of other ex-orphans.

There was plenty of time to be introduced around the stockade, in particular to Benjamin Kyalo, the head keeper of the Ithumba Unit and our boss for the next few days. He would be in charge of our safety and security during the time that we would be around the orphans. At all times, we had to remember that these animals were in the process of being rehabilitated back into the wild. They are not family pets, and they are not domesticated. The three of us had not really spent any time around wild animals, so everything was going to be new to us. Fred and Elizabeth had walked in national parks and nature reserves in other countries, but all of this was going to be totally new to me. I started out being more than a little nervous – who knew when a lion was going to leap out of the undergrowth and eat me, or perhaps an elephant would just step on me. After a short while, however, I came to realize that the locals were all still alive so the danger couldn’t be that extreme. Just keep an eye open for snakes and all will be well.

We soon found a comfortable place to sit and wait for the orphans to return to the camp with the setting of the sun. While we waited, there was plenty to see. All the birds were new to me, as were the distant chattering of the Vervet Monkeys behind the camp and the scurrying of the agama lizards and skinks on the rocks around where we were sitting. As it’s all so unfamiliar, I spend more time than it is worth trying to get a photo of the monkeys in the fast fading light.

Soon enough our reverie was broken by the approach of the first small group of orphans, moving quite quickly with their keeper, obviously anxious to get home after a long day. They always seem to be very keen to get home – we were practically ignored as they raced for their enclosures and the fresh browse that had been cut for them to eat during the night. Of course, the real reason for the rush is to get a bottle – or three – of milk from the waiting team of keepers. All the younger orphans still need regular feeds and even the older ones welcome a little milk as a treat. I’m not sure why the bottles are fitted with rubber teats, the milk seems to go down in just a few seconds and sounds like a kitchen sink being drained.

Once their appetites had been satisfied they all started to work on the browse – cut branches from leafy trees that they would normally browse on in the bush during the day. They also started to show a little more interest in their new visitors. Visitors in general are nothing unusual for them, they tend to have guests for much of the time on and off. Most stay for one or two nights, just long enough to see their adopted youngster and move on. We were staying for a bit longer and would hopefully have time to get to know them all as they got used to us.

Soon they were coming to the fences of their enclosures to take a closer look – and sniff – of us all. It is said that elephants don’t see very well, but I’ve never been convinced of that. I’m sure their sight is not as powerful as some of their other senses – like smell or hearing – but I think they can see what’s going on around them well enough. So, particularly when you are just a couple of feet away from them, they really do come to see you. Having said that, their main greeting is by smell – they want to know what you smell like and this is what they will remember most clearly. Being newcomers to this ritual, Benjamin has to explain that we must blow gently into their trunk when they present it to us. This will give them a true scent of our breath that they will allegedly never forget.

By the end of this first evening, we have been introduced to more than half a dozen of the orphans, including Lualeni – Fred and Elizabeth’s main adoptee – and her best friend Kora. All the others have spent time around us and will be more relaxed in the morning as they go out from the camp to feed for the day. We’ll be back to see them off.

The sun was setting and it was time to make the mile or so drive back to camp for dinner. As it turned out, this was not going to be as simple as we had expected. We passed through the fenced off area that surrounded the Wildlife Service headquarters and out onto the main road to camp without incident. This road, however, was blocked by an enormous wild bull elephant. He was clearly browsing on the tall grasses along the side of the road, but there was no way we were going to get past him and we would just have to wait for him to move. 

Well, he sure did move, but straight towards us with a somewhat belligerent swagger to his step, ears flapping and head shaking. Obviously, there’s not much you can do about this other than get out of the way and that’s exactly what we did. Our driver quickly reversed about 100 metres back down the road before stopping again. By this time a truck filled with some of the keepers heading home was behind us and they too beat a hasty retreat.

Over the radio one of them called to us. “His name’s Rafiki and he doesn’t like cars!” Rafiki just means friend in Kiswahili, but it’s a common name to be given to an old bull elephant by people. Our Rafiki didn’t seem to be very friendly, but of course his name may have been meant as a joke! Luckily for us, he had made his point and after a few minutes of posturing and browsing he moved slowly off the road and let us get home to cook our dinner. If nothing else, I got some fantastic first shots of a truly wild elephant. The light of the setting sun cast strong shadows emphasising his strength and scorn for mere humans. He wasn’t afraid of us and, whatever we wanted, we would be waiting on him.

So, this is day one! You can’t begin to call yourself an expert after just one day, but already we have been given a few lessons by our hosts and had a great encounter with a truly wild friend. Firstly, male and female elephants have different shaped heads. The bulls are more rounded and this probably has something to do with them fighting and generally carrying heavier tusks. It might take me a while to get this down, but I understand the basic idea and obviously it is more noticeable as they get older.

I also couldn’t help noticing that our Rafiki had what can only be described as a very wide face. His tusks were actually quite short, but thick and spaced well apart, pointing outward to the sides a little. By any standard, he was a massive animal, but looked even more impressive from the front with the broad head and massive forehead.

We are all up before dawn the following morning, in order to be at the stockades in time for the orphans to be up and breakfasted before they leave for the day’s browsing. From the huts behind the stockades, we get a magnificent view towards the east, watching as the sun peeks above the horizon. Elizabeth is given the job of feeding one of the hungry youngsters while Fred and I take photos as best we can in the non-existent pre-dawn light. As the elephants are walked out with their keepers to start the day, Benjamin walks with us a short distance down the road as they move to the first patch of greenery and spread out to browse. When all is said and done, elephants have to spend a very large part of their time eating.

We stay on the road, where we can be seen to be safe, and slowly the elephants fade into the undergrowth and just disappear. Elephants are grey for a reason – it is really great camouflage when they are in the bush as they are much the same colour as the deep shadows. They really do vanish from sight, although you get an occasional glimpse of them and you can hear when one of them attacks a branch. Once we are sure they are moving away, we head back to camp for breakfast and a chance to relax before meeting the orphans again at the late morning mud bath.

A mud bath, a dust bath or both are very important to elephants and something that all family groups do more or less daily and teach to their young. The orphans have to learn the ritual too and they are led to the local pool each day to take part in their ablutions. This is where we get to see the orphans all together – usually there are around 18 to 20 of them at the centre at any given time. They make quite a sizeable herd, but look a little odd as they are all a similar size.

This first day is actually quite overcast and – by the local standards – not particularly hot. Most of the orphans don’t want to do anything more than stand by the edge of the water and need a little encouragement from the keepers before they step in a little further and spray themselves – or each other – to get cooled down. Once they are at least a little wet, it’s time to get a good dusting of the powdered red earth nearby. The mixture of dirt and mud is essential both as a sunscreen and also as a barrier against skin parasites.

It takes quite a bit of effort to get the elephants into the water. Honestly, I think it’s a little cold for them and they seem to want little more than to get damp and get back out. Soon only the bigger orphans are left in the shallows, pushing and playing, then chasing each other out of the water and through the thick mud to firmer ground.

The rest of the middle part of the day is a little slower for us. The skies clear and we spend a little time checking the other waterholes for wildlife before heading back to camp for a light lunch and a chance to relax with a book while we avoid the heat of the afternoon.

As the afternoon starts to turn into early evening and the sun is visibly going down, we head back to the stockade to see the orphans return and be bedded down for the night. The stockade is a necessity, even this large a group of youngsters could be attacked in the night, as they simply don’t have the support of older family members to protect them from predators.

All the orphans seem quite relaxed about returning to their enclosures and are soon browsing on some cut branches and a little fodder.

With eagles soaring overhead and the sun finally setting over Kimathenya and the distant Yatta Plateau to the west, we return to camp to prepare dinner and get an early night.