OUT&ABOUT: Discovering Kenya’s mysterious lake

Hippos in Lake Oloiden. PHOTO| RUPI MANGAT

What you need to know:

  • We’re sailing on little-known Lake Oloiden, which changes dramatically every so often that it keeps everyone guessing — what next? Salty or fresh?

 

We’ve woken up to a spectacular performance by pelicans — the Great white pelicans — performing a ballet that’s captivating.

On a blue lake, flotillas of the great white birds synchronise their dive in the water, upturning their white butts like a ballerina’s tutu; while their enormous yellow bills vanish in the water to swallow the fish they have herded. It’s spectacular.

Further in the lake, there’s animated splashing in the water, and then that graceful bow again.

Underwater, with open bills, the pelicans gulp the fish.

It’s only 6.30am but in that golden hour, everything is animated in Lake Naivasha’s little cousin — Oloiden.

I’ve wangled my way to join the team from the ornithology section of the National Museums of Kenya to count the birds in a lake that’s so mysterious that it intrigues scientists to the core.

MIGRATING WATER BIRDS

Fleur Ng’weno, the grande dame of birders, explains the exercise that was started in 1990 to count migrating water birds by Wetlands International, a global NGO dedicated to the conservation and restoration of wetlands.

Involving local Kenyan partners like Nature Kenya and Kenya Wildlife Service, this has become an annual affair.

The list of birds is endless in our transact — word for our patch being counted. Cormorants dry their outstretched wings on every log and bare branch in the lake. Dainty jacanas and jewel-clad malachite kingfishers are near the shore. Pied kingfishers jack-dive for fish while the call of the majestic African fish eagle pierces the clear blue day. There’s no boring moment with more than 400 other species including the pod of slumbering hippos in the lake; with one that startles us when it surfaces close to the boat.

GREAT WHITE PELICANS

But it’s the Great white pelicans that steal the show. Meanwhile, on the far end of the lake, two little Maasai giraffes watch us shyly as fishermen spread their nets, and a group of tourists enjoy breakfast on the lush green grass amid the yellow barked acacia.

In the middle of the gorgeous blue lake, we’re surrounded by the massifs of Aberdares in the north, Eburru in the west sloping into the Mau Range.

Mt Longonot’s peak is invisible but it’s the nearest volcano.

So here’s why Lake Oloiden is so intriguing. The little known salt lake has since turned into a freshwater lake.

A few years ago, salt-loving birds in the lake were replaced by flocks of freshwater birds.

Scientist David Harper, an emeritus professor in Water Science at the University of Leicester, explained to me the phenomena a few years ago. Millions of years ago when the ground shifted to form the Rift Valley, it created one major lake stretching from Nakuru to Naivasha.

In the mid-1800s, the lakes dried up but a few years later, Lake Naivasha’s waters rose so high that it reconnected with Oloiden, which thus became fresh.

It was almost dry again in 1945, but rose again. British settler farmers then dug a canal to join the two lakes, giving Oloiden boat access to Naivasha town.

Then in 1982, when Lake Naivasha’s water levels began to fall, Oloiden steadily became separated from Lake Naivasha and gradually turned so saline. By 1995 it had lost all its plants and fish but in the meantime, the green photosynthetic bacteria called Spirulina (Arthrospira) was growing.

It’s the favourite food of the Lesser flamingos.

When thousands of Lesser flamingo flew appeared to feed on the bacteria in 2006, everyone was stunned as the tiny lake turned crimson — and that was the first time in recorded history.

NO SINGLE FLAMINGO

At this point, we haven’t even seen a single flamingo. Our boat man, Peter Kariuki from the Loiden Community Association, was happier when tourists flocked to see the pink migration, but nevertheless he enjoyed the morning session of counting birds.

“This year, we’re getting relatively low numbers of migrating birds and wondering if it is because of climate change,” says Ng’weno.

Driving back to the Kenya Wildlife Service campsite on the shores of Lake Naivasha, we pass greenhouses that have turned the once pristine wetlands into an industrial hub.

 It’s a concern. Wetlands are the source of water that supports all forms of life and Lake Naivasha is a Ramsar site — a wetland of international importance — since 1995.

Eighty per cent of the papyrus swamps here have vanished since the 1960s. It’s the plant that filters the water clean in the lake.