My first trip to Namibia, a business trip, led me 2006 from Windhuk to the great dunes of the Sossusvlei and the bizarrely Germanic town of Swakopmund on the Atlantic (where German housewives still roam and buy Bierschinken at the Fleischerei aka butchery) to the floodlit waterholes of Etosha national park. After a few days of travelling on perfect roads and shopping at supermarkets selling neatly packed “BBQ kits“, my verdict was firm: This is Africa for beginners! 15 years later, in 2021, I came back I came back with my wife to charter a plane to fly to the Hoanib River Valley, a seasonal, mostly dry river which empties into the Atlantic at the harsh Skeleton Coast. Here, at one of the remotest places in Africa, I wanted to search for the so-called “vanishing kings”, elusive desert-adapted lions which were said to survive here in the unforgiving Namib.the world’s oldest desert.Worn out by a combination of climate change, absence of rain and shrinking habitat due to invading cattle herders, there were probably only a few handfuls of desert lions left.Our lodge doubles as base of Dr. Philipp, a slightly eccentric scientist who has dedicated his entire life to study these beautiful kings of the desert. Doing this for almost thirty years Philipp knows every single lion in person – he even gave them names for better recognition and distinction.. We learn that desert lions may not be choosy. If oryx or zebra were scarce, lions would even focus on one of the cape seals residing right on the Atlantic beaches. 

Desert lions had almost been extinct 25 years ago, then the number shot up to a full 100, just to drop again significantly. Their future looked bright when a coalition of five male lions, called the „five muskekeers“ had brought the dangerous hunt on giraffes to highest perfection. Just one kick of a fully-grown giraffe, we had learned, could fatally limit the lion’s hunting skills. At the end, it wasn’t the kick of a giraffe, but biological constraints which had sealed the fate of each of the five males: After reaching sexual maturity, male lions need to leave the shelter of their own pride to conquer if possible an own pride. No wonder that male lions always live a shorter life than females. On their hunt for scarce prey the males from time to time encountered human settlements and their cattle. Fatally, they acquired a taste for cattle, so, consequently, one after the other was killed by herders’ bullets. The musketeers were no more, causing serious reproduction challenges for the remaining female desert lions, as only one male lion, Munya, which had come from outside, was left in a vast habitat.

Tragic death came over another female lion which obviously bumped, of all things in this barren desert of stones, where all life was meant to be absent, into a leopard. A fierce fight between lion and leopard unfolded, the lioness defending her little cubs Alpha and Bravo which she had hidden between rocks.  Finally she could kill the leopard but a bit later succumbed to her serious injuries as well.

It was Sister 69 who now took care of the two helpless orphans inheriting the challenge of providing enough prey for the youngsters to grow. She could not be choosy neither and even took on a porccupine. Trying to defend itself against the overpowering opponent the porcupine rammed one of its quills into the flesh hitting fatally the lungs of the lioness.

Together with our guide Paulus we are now about to start the search for Alpha, Bravo and Charlie. Alpha and Bravo in particular, had become inseparable since the tragic death of their auntie. Due to the early death of their mother, they have never learned to hunt larger animals, thus converted into „coastal lions“ with cape seal and smaller springbok as their favorite prey. Charlie the loner, however, is roaming through the barren mountains around our camp.  

Where to start our search in this ocean of rock, stone and sand?

Surrounded by impenetrable morning fog we are using the dry sandy riverbed of the Hoanib to drive towards the coast. Next to us, the noise of breaking branches. Suddenly, the grey silhouettes of two desert elephants appear, still blurred by mist and darkness. They seem to be much smaller than their counterparts in East Africa. As we drive on, desert giraffes are stretching their long necks out of the mist. But not a trace at all from Alpha or Bravo who have been seen in this area the day before yesterday, on their prowl from the coast inland. Not even a footprint. The dry riverbed is now widening, already offering glimpses of the coastal plains in the far distance. We pass an avenue of beautiful acacia and umbrella trees. Finally the power of the sun chases the last remnants fog away. The riverbed now turns into plains with heath, the first dunes of the Skeleton Coast appear on the horizon. We briefly follow a springbok, until it disappears in the vastness of the dunes. Like a fata morgana, just next to the dunes, a green oasis surfaces out of nothing, thanks to an underwater spring offering all animals a reliable yearlong source of water. The oasis might be a promise, but its green offers also great camouflage for predators. Some oryx gracefully graze closely, seemingly undisturbed by any danger. Not a single predator seems to be a round. Have Alpha and Bravo moved to the mountains? 

Seagulls flying above in the azure skies bear witness that we are getting closer to the ocean. Upon our arrival on Möwe bay we follow the noise of monotonous bleating. As we cross the last dune, we stand in awe in front of a great theatre of wildlife: On the beach virtually thousands of cape seals are warming themselves up in the desert sun, while even more of the oily seals are frolicking in the ocean, shining in the rolling waves back and forth. 

Next to the world of smelly seals, there is an island of luxury waiting for us: Amidst the pebble, next to the roaring ocean, a lunch table has been set, its white tablecloth flapping in the sea breeze. A bottle of crisp Sauvignon Blanc sparkles in the midday sun, the oryx burger tastes divine. After lunch, Gavin, our pilot, is waiting for us. The cessna takes off, circles shortly above the wild beaches and dunes of the Skeleton Coast and their infamous shipwrecks, leaves the life-giving oasis and the sea of dunes behind, before touching down after a mere 10-minute-flight not far from our camp in the desert. 

Where are the desert lions? 

Back in camp, the manager is up in arms, as the lion alarm system had sounded. Alpha and Bravo, we learn, are probably close to camp. But after an exhausting day-long safari to coast, we feel too exhausted to now turn out again…tomorrow is another day. What a fateful decision.After delicious Eggs Benedict breakfast we set off for another safari. It’s still dark and the desert is breathtakingly quiet. The sky turns ablaze with the hues of a pink sunset. We soon enter the riverbed. Unlike yesterday it is now devoid of any mist. Not a single animal is in sight. This would mean, at least at the Masai Mara, our safari home turf in those days, that predators could be around. Just as it its getting light we detect the footprints of two lionesses right in front of us in the sandy riverbed, both obviously walking upstream. Alpha and Bravo!? We are both thrilled. as the footprints appear to be not more than a day old. Our guide reads animal footprints like a book and so we manage to follow them for at least an hour, until we lose them. Later, at a watering hole, there is a maze of different footprints: of desert elephants, giraffes, oryx, springbok and even of a hyena .It seems that everybody has been here – everybody but Alpha and Bravo. Desert-adapted lions may survive without water for months, as they can substitute water with blood of their prey.

Onwards! Three side valleys are branching off the main valley. We follow the first one…and are again thrilled that we soon find a fresh lioness footprint. What had happened to Alpha and Bravo, have they separated? Desert lions frequently redesign battle plans, often considering a splitting up to increase hunting success.We drive upvalley, getting higher, now surrounded by towering granite cliffs and rocks. The lions could be nowhere and everywhere, as reading of the footprints gets nearly impossible, due to the soil turned stony. For sure the lionesses would spot us before we spot them. We have now lost our track, but our hard-wearing Landcruiser is climbing smoothly over hill and dale. Suddenly – in a small sandy stretch – another footprint. We are still on the right track! But at one point the valley comes to an end. Further climb n foot is not an option – senseless in this ocean of rocks and boulders.

We turn back into the main valley of the Hoanib to soon detect another footprint of one lioness, supporting the assumption of Alpha and Bravo having split up for hunting reasons. For hours we follow this footprint until we reach a wide, high lying, treeless valley. In this merciless heat of the day, Alpha or Bravo would not find any shady place to rest. Our guide notices that we have seen comparatively few prey, down in the main valley. Had most animals moved to the mountains, in search of more water? And the lionesses followed them?

So much sunk in thought we follow a sandy track..and identify suddenly the footprints of two lionesses. Alpha and Bravo – reunited!? Desert-adapted lions may walk 20 kilometers by day and uptown 70 kilometers in the coolness of the night, way more than their brothers and sisters in the savanna. Paulus points to the sudden footprints of an oryx which obviously was running. Had it been hunted? We are excitedas we have to leave the well-driven track and turn to rocky higher ground. Are we soon about to get our dream fulfilled, will we finally meet Alpha and Bravo and their captured oryx?

The lionesses’ footprints get sparser, the rubble more and more dense. no way to go further. We take out our binoculars and try to screen, a bit despairingly, our surroundings. No noise, no trace of Alpha and Bravo. Maybe they are unbelievably close, maybe they are again far, back at their habitat at the Skeleton Coast? We do not find them today, we do not find them tomorrow or after tomorrow, not even their footprints while we, each day anew, pass through wonderful landscapes of mountain and desert,

For me, desert-adapted lions are the most mysterious animals ever – I will come back and one day, I will meet them.

“He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and lions on the beach.”Ernest Hemingway in The Old Man and the Sea