
There is nothing quite like the silent appearance of a crocodile alongside your makoro to make you realise the totally futile presence of a thin piece of wood lying between you and the jaws of one of the most efficient predators of all time. The yellow eye gazed unblinkingly at me in my seat at the bow of the makoro whilst the tip of its tail beyond the stern of the boat propelled it with consummate ease as our guide paddled frantically for the bank. With a languid indifference our pursuer disappeared below the murky waters to reappear a couple of seconds later with a metre long barbel clasped between its jaws. Bad news for the barbel but good news for us – I retain enough composure to reel off a couple of photographs as the hunter thrashes its prey to death in the water beside me.