When you live in the bush and are learning how to guide, you have the opportunity for many close encounters that as a regular tourist you may not otherwise be exposed to. Elephants were an animal we required much experience with, as they can be the most dangerous to people and vehicles, just based on sheer mass alone. The trunk contains near 100,000 muscles, so a moment of curiosity can result in our soft tissue bodies being manipulated in a way that is not conducive to life as I prefer to live it. For this reason, we had a higher tolerance for elephant proximity. One elephant stands out to me for this reason. I called him Wuntusk (one-tusk).
With only one tusk, this big bull elephant happened upon us quite regularily. Zak, another student, and myself always sat in the back row of the land rover. Wuntusk enjoyed coming to the back of the vehicle where we sat high enough for his liking. He would wander behind us, calm and relaxed, just investigating.
I remember one day we spotted Wuntusk in a swift jog headed to cross the road we were driving on. We stopped to watch him pass. Wuntusk stopped and at just a few meters away, he stood watching us while twisting and pushing a rock into the ground with his foot. He began to make his way around the back of the vehicle to my side where I sat sideways in my seat facing the opposite direction with my large lens turned facing Wuntusk, knowing my long lens would not even focus on him at this point. I looked at the student sitting what now is in front of me, and she had her face in her hands and was frozen with fear. She was in Zaks usual seat, and she didn’t seem to like it. As the instructor spoke softly to Wuntusk, he assured us to remain still and calm.
As I sat there, motionless, my senses heightened as I could feel the presence of Wuntusk behind me. I could smell the musty aroma of this gentle giant and with my hair pulled back and neck exposed, I felt the light dusting of sand particles as they fell from between the wrinkles on Wuntusk across my skin. The sound of his breathe in my ears was haunting and tested my ability to remain composed.
This bull eventually lost interest and turned around continuing on his way. I was left speechless and depleted from the surge of adrenaline I had just experienced, as my fellow guides informed me this elephant was about a foot away from my head. I decided he needed a new name. I named him Teuclaus. Because he was in fact, too close.