How to Keep a Hippo Out of Your Swimming Pool (Or How Not To)

Please Don’t Try This at Home

A couple of years ago, I learned a valuable lesson about hippos… Actually, several valuable lessons.

The first is that hippos do not care about your plans.

The second is that hippos do not care about your qualifications.

And the third is that when a hippo charges, you discover very quickly who the fastest runner in the group is.

The story starts one peaceful morning at Rhino Post Safari Lodge.

On this particular morning, I was sitting in the office with Gerrit and Nikki when Sharon, our receptionist, called.

“Guys, you’d better come and see this. There’s a hippo heading for the swimming pool.”

Now, this was not ideal.

It was around 9 am and our morning game drive was due back shortly. Within the next hour we’d have guests walking down the pathway between reception and the pool area, blissfully unaware that a two-ton lawnmower with anger-management issues was busy planning its day.

Naturally, my first thought was not safety.

My first thought was: Wait. I’m getting my camera.

Priorities.

This was before smartphones. Yes, children, there was once a time when we carried actual cameras. Mine was a little silver Canon digital camera that I guarded with my life. The fact that I was willing to risk my life for photographs, however, tells you quite a lot about my decision-making skills at the time.

We made our way to reception and stopped near the big Jackalberry tree. There, about 50 metres away, stood the hippo, partially hidden in the grass between the walkway and the swimming pool.

Back then I was still young, enthusiastic and trying very hard to absorb the wisdom of the old masters. When Gerrit stepped forward, I naturally assumed I was about to witness some ancient ranger magic.

Gerrit shouted at it.

The hippo turned around.

The hippo looked at us.

The hippo was not impressed.

Now, for those who don’t know Gerrit, he is one of those old-school rangers who makes the rest of us look like enthusiastic amateurs. This is a man who bottle-fed black rhinos. A former head guide at Mala Mala. One of those people who seems to have spent his life collecting stories that sound made up. So when Gerrit told us girls to stand behind him, we listened.

Nikki stood directly behind him.

I stood behind Nikki.

Sharon remained strategically positioned in the reception doorway.

Gerrit shouted again.

Nothing.

I remember thinking, Come on, man. Is that your big plan?

He picked up a large piece of log and threw it.

The log hit the hippo squarely between the eyes.

Bullseye! There was a moment of silence.

The hippo let out a snort that I can still hear to this day.

It dropped its head.

And then it charged.

What happened next was a masterclass in human survival instincts.

Gerrit turned around and shouted one word.

“RUN!” 

Now, I don’t want to brag, but on that specific day, in that specific moment, I was the fastest runner in the group.

I launched.

Not ran.

Launched.

I sprinted for the kitchen like my life depended on it, because it quite possibly did. I tore down the cement corridor, ripped a whiteboard off the wall, blasted through the kitchen and straight into the dry store. Before I could even close the door, I somehow had both chefs, a waiter and the cleaner inside with me.

Nobody asked questions.

Nobody requested clarification.

They simply saw my face and thought:

Well, whatever she’s running from, we’re running from it too. 

Meanwhile, Gerrit and Nikki headed for the office.

Gerrit found himself facing a dilemma that probably wasn’t covered in ranger training.

He wanted to run faster.

But he couldn’t.

Because he couldn’t exactly outrun his wife and leave her for the hippo.

So he was forced to run at a speed that balanced survival with marital harmony.

Matrimonial responsibility.

Nikki reached the office first.

She flung open the door.

Jumped inside.

And then, in a completely understandable moment of pure panic, shut the door behind her, leaving Gerrit outside.

I would love to tell you she deliberately sacrificed her husband to save herself. But I genuinely think it was just instinct. The sort of instinct that says: “Danger! Close door!”

Unfortunately, the husband happened to be on the wrong side of it.

Gerrit managed to wrench open the sliding door and dive inside just in time.

And then something extraordinary happened.

The hippo saw its own reflection in the glass.

Apparently convinced that another hippo was charging directly at it, it slammed on brakes less than a metre from the door.

Turned.

And disappeared back into the bush.

Just like that.

Crisis over.

Almost.

While all of this was happening, Sindy, who is now one of our managers, was down at the dining room preparing for brunch. She had front-row seats to the entire spectacle.

According to Sindy, it looked like one of those wildlife documentaries called How Did They Survive That? She still talks about how unbelievably close the hippo was to Gerrit. Close enough, she says, that it looked as though it was trying to grab hold of his trousers.

Inside the office, Gerrit and Nikki were convinced the hippo was about to come crashing through the glass. In preparation for what would undoubtedly have been a very bad day, Gerrit threw himself over Nikki and covered her like a human bomb blanket.

Thankfully, the glass survived.

The hippo survived.

And somehow, so did we.

Looking back now, it was my very first full-blown animal charge while working at Rhino Post Safari Lodge. At the time, it was utterly terrifying. Today, it’s one of those stories that gets better every year.

But also because it taught me an invaluable lesson about hippo management.

If you ever find yourself wondering how to keep a hippo out of your swimming pool, I can save you a great deal of trouble.

Don’t throw a log at it.

Especially if the log hits.