Fred and Elizabeth had become regular visitors to Uganda – indeed they left me in Kenya on our first trip together to travel on to Uganda for the rest of the Christmas period. Wishing to return, they asked Chris and myself if we would like to pay our first visits to this country high in the heart of Africa.

We were both keen to join them. Uganda offers some mammals that are difficult to see elsewhere in East Africa and a change of scenery would always be welcome. Fred drew up his plans for a four-week trip that would see us cover a lot of ground, spending on average two or three days at each of about a dozen locations.

To make this all possible, they would be employing the services of their regular driver and bird guide extraordinary, Emmy Gongo. By this time, they had known Emmy for about a decade and seen him grow up and set up on his own as a driver and guide who specializes in finding Albertine Rift Valley endemic bird species for the most-avid of bird watchers.

For me, this introduces a bit of a negative aspect to the trip. I’m not that passionate about the birds if I’m being totally honest. It’s nice to see a new species and birds are a wonderful distraction when there aren’t any elephants or leopards about, but I just don’t have the patience the rest of the time. It wasn’t a big deal really, there would be plenty to see and do on the trip, besides looking for birds and actually possibly some really rare and interesting ones. We would be in mountain gorilla country for a few days and might get the chance to see them.

The plan would take us in a great circle around the west of the country, Southwest first to Lake Mburo and Bwindi, then up along the Congo border to Ishasha and Queen Elizabeth NP. Continuing North, we’d visit Kanyanchu and then Murchison Falls before returning via Ziwa.

We landed safely and had a good two nights in the town of Entebbe. This gave us time to have Emmy join us and then just relax and look for birds in the Botanical Gardens down on the shore of Lake Victoria. We were soon ready to start our tour, however, and our first stop on a busy day would be a boat trip into Mabamba Swamp to try and photograph a shoebill. These huge-billed stork-like birds are a rare sight and tend to only be seen in quite secluded and remote swamps where they stand and fish. Mabamba swamp is a RAMSAR-recognised wetland, considered internationally important because it is one of the few places where these birds can be reliably seen.

We had enjoyed a drink with the owner of one of the lodges where we would be staying during the trip the night before going to the swamp. We were talking about cameras – I’d somehow managed to forget to pack the charger for mine – and he was quite adamant that getting a good photo of a shoebill in the wild was pretty much impossible. Fred and I accepted the challenge.

I was worried about the camera though. I had changed cameras since the last trip – just an upgrade to a new model Pentax – and I had managed to take the damaged lens apart and fix the mounting ring. (It is amazing what you can do with the gentle application of a hammer on a piece of stainless steel.) Somehow, however, I had forgotten to pack my charger. There was absolutely no chance of getting a Pentax charger in Uganda. There’s no dealer and any shops in Kampala would probably only have Canon and Nikon stuff, if any.

I had five fully charged batteries, but I would just have to ration my shooting if I had any hope of being able to shoot during the last few days. Roughly one battery – say 600 photos – for each five or six days would mean I’d have to limit myself to around 100 per day if I was going to get through the month. I was used to taking more than this, but I’d have to just discipline myself to snap less and make the shots I did take count.

With the four of us and Emmy ready at the waterside, we piled into our two assigned boats. The boats are long, narrow, shallow-drafted canoe-like affairs, each with a crew of two paddlers. We set off down the main channel, dodging the occasional much larger ferry carrying people across the water to the next peninsula.

Mabamba swamp is a huge area of papyrus marshland, a shallow inlet off the vastness of Lake Victoria between two peninsulas of dry land. A couple of channels are kept clear for the ferries between the peninsulas and numerous side channels radiate off the main ones created by fishermen looking for a catch and the tourists who come, like us, to try and see the shoebills.

Being paddled along was slow and relaxing. It was very hot and sunny, but the water cooled the air and I greatly enjoyed watching the papyrus and lotus flowers as we moved slowly along. There were bee-eaters and kingfishers on the reeds around us, difficult shots that I could barely afford from my battery budget.

Around a corner in the channel, the swamps opened out to reveal another boat with someone photographing our sought for target. We crept forward slowly and quietly, then stopped to wait for the earlier arrivals to finish and withdraw. I could see the Shoebill beyond, but not clearly. We were speaking quietly among ourselves, boats more or less side-by-side when we distinctly heard a loud voice from the other boat. “Some people have no patience!” Surely the gentleman couldn’t mean us, could he? We were just sitting minding our own business and waiting.

Clearly the gentleman – and I use the term loosely – wasn’t happy with something. His boat turned and he moved past us and off towards the channel. Muttering to himself and his guides about impatient and loud people. He could clearly be heard to say “You’re the worst guide I’ve ever had.”. I was a little bit surprised and confused. Had we really done something to upset him, or was he just venting some other anger aimed at his guide. I’d never heard anyone be negative about a guide in public before and was a little shocked.

Something snapped and I couldn’t resist the temptation to respond. I leaned forward towards the paddler in front of me and said, loud enough for our group and our angry neighbour to hear “Do you think if we hit him on the head with a paddle, would they ever find the body?”

Our group erupted into laughter. The man in front of me turned and simply said “No”. I will never know what upset him so much. It really couldn’t have been us. We didn’t make excessive noise and would have waited as long as he wanted us to.

We got quickly into range and I took as many photos as I felt I dared. Luckily, shoebills spend a lot of time when fishing just standing perfectly still and our bird was no exception. He didn’t even blink for about ten minutes, then calmly walked a few metres to the left and stood staring right at us. After the first minute, I even suggested to Emmy that is was a plastic dummy.

I think he deserves a full-page photo. They really are a magnificent and unusual bird. There’s nothing else like them and it’s well worth the effort to try and see one if you ever get the chance. I think we also easily beat the challenge of photographing one in the wild. I wish I’d seen one hunting, but that just means I’ll have to go back one day and have another go at getting the perfect shot.