Journey into the Okavango

With the launch of our latest publication, Eden – Soul of Africa, being scheduled for 12 December 2025, we had to make a calculated decision regarding when to leave the Okavango in order to ensure our return to South Africa for the special event. That decision ultimately saved us from disaster.

As extreme weather systems intensified around us, we chose to depart several days earlier than planned, leaving on 5 December and arriving back in Maun the same evening. On 6 December, the heavens opened, completely flooding the Maun–Okavango road and leaving another film crew, along with several tourists, stranded in the Mababe region. They could neither return to camp nor make their way back to Maun.

Relentless rainfall even destroyed sections of the tar road near the Groblersbrug/Martins Drift Border Post – a catastrophe our team narrowly avoided by just three days. Widespread devastation engulfed large parts of Botswana, yet fortunately we escaped mostly unscathed. Aside from destroyed brake pads, a damaged winch, and several electronic issues, our production vehicles made it safely back to Hoedspruit to rest over the December period.

In April 2026, our team returned to the Okavango, documenting the expedition on film as we explored the tremendous – and often devastating – impact the rainfall had on the ecosystem, wildlife, and tourism sector. The scale of the flooding was beyond anything we could have imagined. Despite receiving several warnings beforehand, nothing could truly have prepared us for what lay ahead.

On 25 April, we departed Audi Camp in Maun toward the Khwai region of the Okavango. Our usual filming base camp was inaccessible, lying approximately 1.2 meters submerged underwater. It took only thirty minutes for us to realize the scale of the challenge awaiting us as we hit the gravel road, which was almost entirely submerged beneath deep water and thick mud.

Six hours later, we arrived at camp to discover that the entire river road and southern Chobe area had disappeared beneath a vast inland lake. We were greeted by friendly – though understandably wary – staff who had ironically only returned earlier that week after being dismissed in January due to the floods.

Tourism in the region had virtually collapsed, and camps situated along the river had been forced to abandon their traditional sites and establish temporary camps deeper within the forests. This created further conflict with local elephant populations, which were accustomed to feeding on trees now occupied by tents and safari vehicles. Consequently we were harassed most evenings and even had frustration taken out on an innocent chair as an elephant kicked it across camp to state his point. We hope that as soon as the floods recede, the camp sites can be moved back to their original place and the elephants can enjoy feeding on their favorite trees (Umbrella thorn).

We drove toward the eastern section of the forest and gazed across plains usually inhabited by zebra, elephant, impala, and tsessebe antelope. Instead, the area was occupied by fish eagles and hippos. Not a single road was visible, nor was there any indication of land on the opposite side, only endless water.

Within an hour of scouting the area, we became hopelessly stuck and once again needed to rely on the winch to pull ourselves free. Only around 40% of the normally accessible driving area remained usable. The entire Khwai region had transformed into a vast swamp-like lake, offering us a rare glimpse into its ancient past as a historic floodplain.

To our knowledge, few people alive today have witnessed the region in this state, with many locals claiming the floods have not been this severe since the 1970s. Many have referred to it as a “generational flood.” Yet the truly astonishing reality is that this is not even the main flood – the true Okavango floodwaters are still on their way from Angola.

As mentioned earlier, it takes approximately six months for the floodwaters to travel the length of the Okavango system, meaning river levels typically peak during June, July, and August. The excess water we witnessed was primarily the result of torrential rainfall experienced throughout the region since December 2025 and not yet the arrival of the annual flood pulse itself.