Crocodile Spotted on Arrival
The Flood Left More Than Mud Behind: Meeting Our New Neighbour on the Selati
There’s a bridge on the road into camp that still hasn’t forgotten January’s floods. Months later, the water still creeps up over the edges of it every time the Selati River swells — a quiet, muddy reminder of just how much rain came down, and how much the river rearranged while it was at it.
Because floods don’t just take. They also build.
Where there used to be a clean, narrow channel, the January floodwaters carved out something new: wide, pale sandbanks, stacked in soft ridges across the river like the water simply changed its mind about where it wanted to be. And it turns out we’re not the only ones who noticed. The crocodiles noticed first.
An Unexpected Welcome Party
I was driving a group of guests in for the first time, easing the vehicle over that still half- flooded bridge, when something on the new sandbank caught my eye. At first glance it looked like just another piece of driftwood dragged in by the floods. Then it moved.
Lying full-length in the sun, soaking up the heat like it had booked the spot months in advance, was a crocodile — and not a small one. Armoured, ancient-looking, utterly unbothered by the vehicle full of wide-eyed guests suddenly idling on the bridge above.
You could see exactly why it had chosen this spot. The new sandbank was perfect: flat, exposed, ringed by shallow water on almost every side — an easy slide back into the river if it wanted to, and full sun for as long as it cared to stay. The flood had, quite by accident, built it the ideal place to bask.
Guest Reactions: Equal Parts Awe and Nerves
I don’t think I’ve had a group go that quiet, that fast. Cameras and phones came up before anyone said a word. Then came the whispers — the kind of hushed excitement you only get when everyone in the vehicle is thinking the same thing at once: that’s a real one.
What really got them was the teeth. Even from a distance, with the croc’s jaw resting half- closed against the sand, you could see that unmistakable crocodile smile — a jagged, overlapping row of teeth that never quite disappears behind the lips. It’s one thing to know
crocodiles have a serious set of teeth. It’s another to see them in person, on a sandbank that wasn’t even there a few months ago, close enough to be very glad you’re the one in the vehicle and not on the sandbank.
By the time we pulled away, everyone in that vehicle had their “arrival story” for the trip — and we hadn’t even reached the lodge yet.
Nature’s Way of Rebuilding
It’s easy to think of a flood purely in terms of what it damages — the bridge still wears its scars, and we won’t forget the cleanup any time soon. But moments like this are a reminder that a flood is also a reset button for a river. New sandbanks, new basking spots, new territory up for grabs — and the wildlife wastes no time moving in and making it home.
For us, it’s just one more reason every drive to camp is worth paying attention to. You genuinely never know what the river has rearranged since your last trip in — or who’s decided to move onto the new real estate.
Booked your stay yet? You might just meet our new neighbour on the way in.
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