Welcome!

Filming in southern Namibia

Welcome to Evolve Consulting’s online discussion forum and photoblog. The idea behind this site is to give you a real-time glimpse into what we get up to here at Evolve, but also to provide a discussion forum to the people involved in the business. Our hope is to encourage intelligent discourse on scientific matters and, if possible, to keep you interested at the same time.

The plan is to post at least one article a week, but please forgive us if we fall short of this (or overdo it!).  As you know, the realities of life sometimes impose themselves on one and it is not always possible, for example, to post articles from somewhere in the Namib desert.

Finally, please check out the Evolve Consulting website. All the information on the business can be found there – and, please, don’t hesitate to drop us a line if you have any questions or comments. Please note: all material on this site is copyright of Evolve Consulting (unless otherwise specified).

Photo by: Ross Cowlin

Sudan 2009

1. A village on the White Nile.

I am struggling to know what to write about Sudan. In many ways, it was a nightmarish trip and yet it also captured or at least hinted at a sort of authenticity of experience that has been absent from my last few journeys. Sudan, for better or worse, is not trying to impress you. It just is. No frills, no fuss. It says: “take it or leave it”. And I suppose, for the vast majority of the world’s population, the resounding response is: “leave it”.

Tourism is essentially non-existent in Sudan. Even Khartoum, the capital of the largest country in Africa and containing 8 million people, makes no concessions to the beast we call tourism. This is astonishing – and is not something I have ever experienced before. Of course, conflict has ravaged Sudan almost continuously for the last 40 years – and there has been intermittent discord going back more than a century. The US Department of State officially warns Americans not to travel to Sudan, citing “uncertain security conditions and the possibility of violence”. The governments of many countries around the world specifically discourage their citizens from travelling to Sudan, including the governments of the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. None of this is conducive to a thriving tourism industry.

2. Real, live camels.

Our journey began on a cool Cape Town evening. After nearly 15 hours in the air and about 10 hours of soul-destroying waiting in Dubai, we finally, wearily disembarked at the Khartoum airport at 6pm the following evening. It was 38⁰C. At 6pm. One often seems to read (I couldn’t say where) about walking “into a wall of heat”, but it wasn’t until that moment that I fully appreciated this nifty turn of phrase. Our first few days in Khartoum were uneventful. We were made very welcome by our hosts, which, given how alien our surroundings were, was all the more appreciated. I had never before travelled in a country governed by Sharia law, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly apprehensive about this. It seemed to me that here was a potential faux pas minefield, but with the added worry of legal ramifications. No drinking, no pork and no sex – that much I knew, but what about the myriad of other social, religious and political niceties that were beyond my knowledge? As it turns out, I needn’t have worried. Despite the many shortfalls of Sudan, the people are incredibly open, friendly and considerate. They are very aware that, as an outsider, you aren’t always au fait with local customs and not only do they take this in their stride, they take a quiet pride in explaining themselves and their beliefs.

3. Mud hut architecture.

Unfortunately, our trip was rather curtailed when I came down with amoebic dysentery and ended up in hospital (the hospital actually wasn’t too bad – I’ve definitely seen worse). This meant that we had to cut out some of the recreational adventures we had planned, but I did get a chance to see a couple of exciting places, including a trip to a farm on the banks of the White Nile and a walk through a local souq (market). The market wasn’t merely the proverbial “assault on the senses”, it was aggravated assault and battery. The wind was gusting frighteningly as we began our tentative exploration of the market and seemed to add to the slightly macabre air of the place, as goods were blown from their tables, awnings flapped desperately and the infirm huddled into doorways. An abrasive grit (who can imagine the microscopic nightmare contained in this mix) worked its way into every part of our bodies. Our eyes, ears, nostrils. The sights, sounds and smells of that market place have been scoured into my memory.

Overall, Sudan is not a place I would recommend to anyone other than the intrepid. For the less hardcore traveller, perhaps you could get away with sticking to the Hilton (yes, there is a Hilton in Khartoum), but you may not want to venture further afield than the foyer. All this being said, if you are brave enough to overlook the myriad of dire warnings from your government and make the trip, you will undoubtedly experience something unlike anything you have experienced before. And this, I suppose, is what travelling is all about.

My thanks to Billy, Christie, Pandelis and everyone at DAL who made us so welcome in their country.

Photos by: Ross Cowlin

4. A particularly impressive mosque.

5. Guards outside one of Bin Laden’s old haunts.

6. Rickshaw driver.

7. Flatbread sellers.

8. Near the souq.

9. A spice stand in the souq.

10. Meat is not refrigerated in Sudanese butcheries.

11. Waiting for customers.

12. Unfinished and derelict buildings abound in Khartoum.

13. Sudanese women.

14. On the way to the market.

15. Khartoum central.

16. Fruit vendor.

17. Near the souq – during a (minor) dust storm.

18. Visiting a village outside Khartoum.

19. Walt walking along the White Nile.

Here and There

1. Looking out over the valley

The last month has been a busy one. A few climbing trips, the overland mission, a sort-of hunting trip in the Eastern Cape. I thought I’d put together a few photos from here and there, instead of posting each event separately – I have the long-anticipated trip to the Sudan just around the corner, so I trust you’ll forgive the brevity of this post.

Several of the photos in this post are from a farm in near sleepy Somerset East in the Eastern Cape. I was invited to join a hunting trip here and, after much reflection, I decided to go along. I haven’t been on such a trip since I gave up hunting some years back and figured the temptation to join in the action would have worn off by now. Fortunately, it had, and I was able to enjoy a few days in the crisp, icy air of a wintery Eastern Cape. I haven’t previously spent much time in this area and I was blown away by the stark beauty of the rugged highlands only an hour so from Somerset East. Of course, the heavy dusting of snow on the peaks surrounding the farm helped a little.

I have also included some photos from short climbing trips in and around Cape Town. With the exception of one trip to the Hex River, all of them were taken no more than 45 minutes drive from my front door. You have to love Cape Town. As the weather improves over the next few months, I hope to enjoy a lot more time outside… I think Cape Town has had enough rain for this winter.

Photos by: Ross Cowlin

2. Only 2 hours from Cape Town...

3. Eastern Cape sheep. Relaxed.

4. John setting off for the day.

5. The mornings were crisp, to say the least.

6. Looking for mountain reedbuck.

7. The farm.

8. Hunting in snow… unusual.

9. Peer’s Cave

10. Enjoying the view.

11. Smile!

12. Silvermine.

13. Walt looking serious.

14. Working hard.

Overland Adventure

1. En Route

Not having anything particularly urgent to get done last week, when Walther Meyer of Venture Forth invited me to accompany him on an overland trip with a group of British air cadets, I thought: “well, why not?” The plan was to collect the group at the Port Elizabeth airport, overnight at Tsitsikamma Falls and then spend a couple of days exploring the many diversions around a little town called Oudshoorn, before returning to Cape Town.

As someone who likes to think he knows a little about South Africa, it is with some trepidation that I admit my knowledge of Oudshoorn has been limited, if not libellous. So far as I have always been concerned, Oudshoorn is good for ostriches – and ostriches alone. Okay, and I suppose the Cango Caves. But never having had an overwhelming desire for the company of ostriches, I’ve never seen much of a reason to visit Oudshoorn.  How wrong I was.

2. The truck

There really is so much to do in and around Oudshoorn. I’m not alluding to ostrich riding, eating ostrich steaks or buying ostrich shells. The world famous Cango Caves are just out of town and although I generally prefer to avoid tourist traps, these caves are a) incredible and b) relatively quiet – at least in the off season. There is also the Cango Wildlife Ranch, which we visited on our second day (I think I enjoyed this more than our guests did!). Some of the many other activities on offer in and around Oudshoorn include rock climbing, abseiling, caving, mountain biking, hiking and, of course, the ubiquitous ostriches. The town itself has managed to preserve a certain old-world charm and yet has a couple of more than decent restaurants and some fascinating cultural centres.

It was cold, though. The two days before we arrived in Oudshoorn brought in pretty substantial cold front – a front that left the Swartberge (translates as “black mountains”) covered with a thick dusting of snow. This was exquisitely beautiful, but without my trusty down jacket, I suffered. Still, I think the cadets enjoyed their time here and certainly appreciated the gradual increase in temperature as we made our way through the Karoo and down to Cape Town.  Here the cadets had a day to sample the delights of the city. This included, obviously, a trip up Table Mountain and a visit to Robben Island. The cadets and their officers were a great bunch – I hope their expedition was everything they were hoping for. Thanks also to Johan Uys of TBI, who hosted us in Oudshoorn, and, of course, to Walther for having me along.

Photos by: Ross Cowlin

3. Taking a break in the Karoo

4. Oudshoorn

5. Ostrich feather dusters

6. The Cango Caves

7. Cango two

8. Cango three

9. Leon looking thoughtful

10. Cango Wildlife Ranch

11. Checking out the white lions

12. It was COLD

13. Breakfast in the Karoo

14. Loading up

15. Photo time on TM

16. A view from Table Mountain

17. Table Mountain – Cape Town as a back drop

18. The last rays of sunset

Baboon Management Workshop 2009

1. Chacma baboons

Yesterday, Tali Hoffman (one of our consultants) was invited to speak at the first ever baboon management workshop – which was hosted by the City of Cape Town at the Civic Centre. She very kindly managed to get my name on the guest list (thanks also to Maike Hamann) and I spent an illuminating – although protracted – day listening to the various issues raised. Is “interminable” too strong a word?

Although there were some interesting points raised by representatives from Cape Nature Conservation and SANParks, I was most impressed by Tali and her colleagues from the Baboon Research Unit (BRU) at the University of Cape Town, Dr Justin O’Riain and Esme Beamish . In fact, they were just about the only speakers from whom I felt I had actually learned something. Something concrete, that is, as opposed to what seemed primarily like opinion, speculation and even (empty?) political rhetoric. The insidious influence of the “bunny-hugger” element was, of course, well in evidence during the course of the meeting. I am always torn between irritation and amusement when people use the word “science” as if it were some filthy imprecation. Science is not (and never has been) a kind of self-aware monster, with desires, intentions and schemes of its own.  Some of those present yesterday would do well to consider this.

2. Baboon Management Workshop 2009

Hats off to Marlene Laros (the workshop facilitator), who, somehow, managed to keep the focus largely where it should be – on the baboons.  Any interface of this nature, involving strongly polarised views and high emotions, is always a tricky beast to handle, so I suppose the day could have been a lot less constructive. The road ahead is, however, a long one. I fear that aside from fleshing out certain issues and perhaps achieving clarity on the stances of various governmental bodies, not much was actually resolved yesterday. Speaking as a relatively disinterested outsider, it seems to me that one of the main sticking points arose around the question of “mandate”. This seemed to be a perennial issue during the course of the day and, so far as I can tell, translates as: “who is going take responsibility?” This in turn can be read as “who is going to pay?”  Still, at the very least, the topic has been finally been brought out into the light of day (and science?). Perhaps I don’t know enough about this obviously incendiary topic, but it seems to me that everyone – the baboons included – would be better off leaving these management issues in the hands of the suitably “mandated” Baboon Management Team (BMT). Now, could someone just spot them some cash?

Photo 1 by: Tali Hoffman

Photos 2 – 11: Ross Cowlin

3. The Civic Centre

4. Photo time

5. The UCT team

6. Tali being interviewed

7. Justin O’Riain and Tali Hoffman

8. Tali answering Q’s

9. Tali presenting

10. Q & A

11. Documenting the workshop

A Trip to the Molenaars River

1. Vere doing his thing

One of Evolve’s consultants, Vere Ross-Gillespie, is currently doing his MSc at the University of Cape Town. He is investigating the life history cues of aquatic insects in several streams dotted around the Cape. One of his study sites is on the Molenaars river in the breathtakingly precipitous Du Toit’s Kloof (about an hour from Cape Town). I hadn’t paid a visit to the Molenaars since a second-year field trip on an ecology course, so when I heard that Vere was looking for a hand a couple of days ago, I jumped at the chance.

We got going at a ghastly hour (the freshwater crowd don’t seem to realise: early = cold), and headed up the N1 to the Du Toit’s Kloof Tunnel and, beyond that, the Molenaars. We made good time – the sun hadn’t yet crested the mountains by the time we got to Vere’s site. We donned our waders (I’d be lying if I denied feeling a little “special” at this point) and marched purposefully off towards the river.  Unfortunately, the nets Vere had set up (with a view to capturing recently emerged adult stoneflies) had all been destroyed. We couldn’t be sure if this was due to human vandalism, baboon curiosity, or simply a particularly tempestuous river flow – perhaps after a storm. Just one of the many problems one encounters when doing biological fieldwork.

We did, however, manage to collect some stonefly larvae samples, which required me to get rather too intimate with the freezing river water than I was entirely comfortable with. The method is simple: one person holds a net in the current, the other overturns rocks in the river. The larvae, which cling to the sides of the riverine rocks, are then swept downstream and into the net. Foolproof. Add freezing water and some leaky waders and, well, you get the picture. Still, it was great to get out and successfully collect some samples. Hopefully Vere will figure out some ingenious plan to prevent human/baboon/water damage to his nets and his sample collection can continue. If not, it will back to the drawing board. Let’s hold thumbs.

2. Please note...

Photos by: Ross Cowlin

3. Setting off

4. Gearing up

5. Getting to work

6. The sun makes an appearance

7. The new samples

8. Stonefly adult (look closely)

9. The net/turn rocks method

10. A (semi) happy Vere

11. Heading home

Location Scout (& Reunion)

1. Some sunlight gets through

I recently reconnected with a mate from school I haven’t seen for a few years. We were neighbours back in prep school days and we shared many an adventure together on his grandparent’s farm – mostly of the huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ persuasion. He invited me to visit a mate’s farm a few hours from Cape Town. I’m always keen for an adventure (especially if I can call it work), so I decided to head up and take a look around. I drove up first thing yesterday, the torrential downpour serving to keep me entertained during the drive (damn you for your lies, weatherman). You have to love Cape winters. I arrived not too long after first light (normally a good time for photography) and, after transferring to a four wheel drive, we set off to explore.

At first, I was rather taken aback by the “Englishness” of the property – we could have been driving through the Cotswolds. Within 5 minutes, however, we had bumped into a herd of mountain reedbuck, which rather spoiled the effect (although not the experience). Springbuck, bushbuck, fallow deer (European), caracal, baboons, porcupine and even the odd, elusive leopard – as well as a myriad of bird species – also occur on the property. We drove up in the direction of the mountains, where a few minutes of sadly tepid sunlight allowed me to photograph the absolutely pristine montane fynbos.

Our luck wasn’t to last, however. The previous night’s storm had been serious enough to uproot a tree – which had fallen right across the road. We abandoned the vehicle and persevered on foot – our goal being a little wood which concealed a long disused mill. As we stepped into the confines of the wood, we realised we weren’t alone – baboons had sought shelter from the rain. I’d be dishonest if I didn’t admit that the barking and chattering of the baboons under the gloomy, dripping canopy of that forest was a little eerie. I couldn’t figure out if it was more Deliverance or Lord of the Rings. Either way, banjo music would have sent me running.

2. Some of the older farm buildings

The rest of the day was less eventful and I managed to get some great shots, despite the shoddy weather. What I liked most about the farm was the sheer diversity of habitats and landscapes. Fynbos, renosterveld, patches of afromontane forest, eucalyptus forests, dams, rivers, a wetland, mountains, plains, century-old farm houses – there was just so much to see. I even got acquainted with a couple of European wild boars and their piglets! Overall, a great day – definitely an excellent place to add to the Evolve location portfolio. Many thanks to Tyron and Valerian for having me on the farm for the day. I’m keen to visit again soon, so don’t be strangers…

Photos by: Ross Cowlin

3. On the road

4. A little house on the prairie?

5. The beautiful fynbos

6. The old mill

7. Two lone oaks near the wood

8. The higher part of the farm

9. Swartgat

10. Hello, pig.

11. Who knew petrol pumps could be quaint?

Photography Course at CTSP

1. CTSP

Last week, I finally got off my backside and made an attempt to improve my photographic skills. Although I have always enjoyed taking photographs and experimenting with a camera, I have often found myself frustrated at my inability to manipulate the camera in such a way as to capture the image I could “see” in my mind’s eye. It was with a view to fine-tuning this more technical side of photography that led me to sign up for the one week intensive DSLR course at the Cape Town School of Photography.

The course is structured as four hour afternoon theory sessions, with take home assignments to complete by the following day. These assignments were a lot of fun and varied from “shooting around the subject” to “environmental portraits”. The weather didn’t make life easy for us, though, and I think a lot of us struggled to find decent light (and dry conditions) to shoot in. We had to present our three best pictures from each session during the following day’s class and the group would then discuss various aspects of the shots.

2. Rafiki's

Overall, I thought this was a fantastic course. I didn’t learn a huge amount about composition and the more creative side of things, but a finally worked out my issues with the likes of shutter speed, aperture, exposure, white balance etc. Which, essentially, was my goal all along. Job done.  What I found fascinating about doing a course of this nature was how it forces you out of your photographic comfort zone. For example, I’ve never too keen on photographing people (although I appreciate portrait photography) – mostly because I don’t feel entirely comfortable photographing strangers. By the end of last week, however, I felt nothing about approaching people on the street and asking if I could take their photo. It is quite amazing what an interest people show once you get chatting to them.

Whether my photography will improve as a result of what I learned on the course is, of course, another question. Perhaps you can tell me? Attached are a few of my favourite shots from last week. An eclectic collection, perhaps, but I certainly like them – and had a lot of fun getting them.

Photos by: Ross Cowlin

3. Bells A (“shooting the subject”)

4. Bells B (“shooting the subject”)

5. Bells C (“shooting the subject”)

6. Edward (“framing”)

7. Richard (“environmental portraits”)

8. Ro (“environmental portraits”)

9. Museum A

10. Videos (“framing”)

11. Museum B

Pilot Whale Beaching

1. Members of the public worked non-stop to help the beached pilot whales

So much has already been said about what happened yesterday – in the newspapers, on television, the radio and various other public forums. I am not going to rehash all of this. Would I would like to do is to (try) inject a bit of perspective into this swollen carcass of controversy. I’m sure it might make me a callous bastard, but I’m going to say it anyway.

In summary: On Saturday, after hundreds – if not thousands – of people spent the better of a day trying to push pilot whales out to sea, a decision was made to euthanize around 40 whales. Several had already died and many others (most?) were in a bad shape. Emotive adjectives aside, that’s what happened. Sad, yes. International calamity? Please consider the following little gems:

• Every second, nearly 4 people die of starvation or hunger-related illness.
• South Africa, 2005, about 45000 babies died before they reached a year of age. That’s 120 a day – just in SA. Five every hour.
• In the US alone, 10 000 000 000 cows, pigs, goats and chickens are slaughtered per year.
• 70% of all pigs that get slaughtered have pneumonia (keep in mind that pigs are smarter than dogs – their intelligence is generally equated with that of a 3 year old child).
• There are an estimated 1 million long-finned pilot whales and 200 000 short-finned pilot whales. Although pilot whales are on the IUCN “data deficient” list, they are not considered endangered or even vulnerable.
• Hundreds  of pilot whales die each year through whaling (Japan) and as by-catch in longline and gill-net fishing.
• Around 308 000 cetaceans drown in fishing nets every year. That works out at about 35 per hour. How many pilots died on Saturday? 40?
• 100 000 000 sharks and rays die as bycatch every year.
• 100 000 albatrosses are killed through longline fishing every year. Also see: turtles, seals, sunfish etc.
• Every hour, three species go extinct. Extinct.

So, there it is. Call me callous, but although what happened was undoubtedly sad, I certainly wouldn’t list it as a disaster of international proportions. Keep in mind, too, that there have been 4 other major beachings of pilot whales on the SA coastline since 1928 – in which all the stranded whales died (in one case more than 200 whales). There have been many other similar events internationally, the most recent of which I believe was on the Danish coast. This phenomenon predates nuclear testing, acid rain and this latest global warming scare. Bizarre? Yes. Sad? Certainly. But it happens. We did our best.

Lastly, although these whales died, I understand that the Mammal Research Institute (MRI) of the University of Pretoria has been given access to the bodies of the euthanized whales and is collecting some very valuable data. Data, I might add, that can only do good for the species and could very well shed some light on this mysterious phenomenon. Let’s hope that something positive, however small, might come from this mess.

2. One of the many groups that joined in to help

Photos 1 & 4 by: Steve Benjamin

Photos 2, 3 & 5 – 14 by: Ross Cowlin

3. Whales weren’t the only victims – a juvenile loggerhead turtle

4. Beached pilot whale

5. Crowd control?

6. Some of the many, many bystanders that helped

7. A calf

8. Towards the end

9. Before the chaos really set in

10. Not sure what this was doing

11. Steve Benjamin under the spotlight

12. An early fatality

13. Cops doing, well, something

14. Paramedic on standby