The boma (Part II of III)
a temporary springbok address, a wall of sails and a wind with opinions
straining poles, with top and bottom wires around them. boma sails are up. An area of 1 hectare is temporarily home for the springbok.
Before our ecosystem engineers could take on their important work of being springbok, our planning involved the construction of an enclosure. You cannot just open a truck door and announce: ‘Welcome home.’ Not if you want the animals to stay long enough to understand where home is. A boma gives relocated wildlife time to settle: to learn the smells, sounds, vegetation and local residents of a new place—whether friendly or otherwise.
It is a balance. Too little time, and animals may leave before they have acclimatised. Too long, and stress, injury or infection become greater risks. A boma is not a zoo. It is a carefully managed pause.
So, long before the animals arrived, our checklist simply read (if one ignores the details): water, food, shade, shelter, compatible vegetation, truck access, an offloading ramp, wind direction and ground that would not give in under pressure. There was no ‘nice to have’.
We chose an area near the farmhouse, with water tanks, a trough, sufficient vegetation and easy access for the delivery truck. Then came the feasibility study—also known as everyone standing in the veld, pointing, and agreeing this was the least-bad idea.
Wind and rain: the unofficial project managers
As opposed to a hot release (animals jump directly off their transport into the veld), more than 20 poles were dug by hand and set in concrete foundations over 60cm deep. Wired onto them: 2.5m high opaque plastic sails, designed to stop the springbok from peeking at the veld before release.
On a calm day, this looks straightforward. On a windy day, the sails turn into 400m of coordinated parachute. Our boma covers roughly a hectare. To make it reusable, we clipped the sails at both the top and bottom: the bottom to discourage jackals, African wild cats and warthogs from digging underneath; the top to discourage springbok from jumping over. Neither the ground nor the sails were perfectly level. Every meter required its own fitting.
wind unhinged a pole and its concrete foundation.
Then late June, rain softened the sandy ground. Excellent news for the land; less excellent for the foundations. A few poles toppled, the corner anchors were upgraded, and the team acquired another practical conservation qualification: structural engineering, under pressure. Pressure from a wall of 250m2 (a single 100m roll), weighing tens of kilos.
last stretch planned to eventually open a 20 meter long panel and a soft release. offloading ramp to organise a soft landing for the springbok. From their transport. anchors come to the rescue of a wet soil.
The truck arrives
In parallel to building their accommodation, we had to source the animals. A main consideration was that the animals had to know the climate and remain appropriately wary of people and vehicles. Simon Wildlife Services handled permits, veterinary support and transport. The distance from Mariental is about 200km: a stone’s throw, if the stone has wheels.
We timed the move for early July, when vegetation was plentiful and the air somewhat cooler. Game capture is never routine. Even with specialist transport and a prepared boma, the animals’ welfare sets the pace.
Then, suddenly, it was happening. Simon Wildlife’s truck pulled up at the farmhouse, using the gate we had left unlocked, reversed cleanly to the offloading ramp at the side of the boma and got on with it before we could produce a ceremonial welcome committee.
The first ram jumped. The herd followed. Between 14:30 and 15:00 on Monday 6 July, 24 springbok moved into their temporary Namibian address. The truck rolled away. The responsibility stayed.
Twenty-four became 25
For the next 10 days, we would check on our new residents several times a day. Footsteps alone could send the herd racing around the enclosure, so the drone became our discreet field assistant.
The signs were good: the animals stayed together, drank from the trough and ground dam, and fed from lucerne bales and pellets. Then the drone picked up a lamb. Less than 48 hours after arrival, 24 became 25.
The following night, we lost a ewe carrying a foetus. Without a post-mortem, the exact cause is unknown. Rewilding is exhilarating—but it is not purely a series of wins. A 20% mortality rate is expected in game capture. It comes with real responsibility, uncertainty and the occasional hard lesson.
next: The release (Part III of III)
one open panel, let the springbok decide
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