Air Namibia, Flamingo January 2008 (Text and photos by Tim Osborne)
Bush fire! Where! Who knows about it?
When you answer your phone and the first words you hear are ‘bush fire’ your heart stars to race. Immediately you shift into top gear, all systems alert.
The chances are it’s a neighbor asking you for assistance with a fire on his farm. Or he could be letting you know the far reaches of your farm are on fire. Whatever you’re doing is put on hold and you ask urgently, Who knows? Who’s on the way to help? Who’s cor-ordinating?
The fire season in Namibia is any time from September until the rains start. While fire is a naturally occurring event, it isn’t appreciated in those habitats where the soil conditions are dry and the grasses are mainly annuals. In these areas no grass grows back until after the rains, which could be months away.
A quick fire-fighting response could save thousands of dollars of grazing. Both people and livestock have been burnt in fires, so there is an incentive to extinguish the fire as soon as possible. In other habitats fire is not necessarily such a disastrous event. The predominant grasses in sandy areas are perennials and because the soil retains moisture, the grass grows back almost immediately.
After the phone call my next task is to prepare my vehicle by throwing in the necessary fire-fighting equipment, extra jerry cans for water, shovels, rakes and fire beaters. The beaters are made from many different material, ranging from mopane sticks to commercial devices made from old fire hoses wired to wooden handles. Then I drive to the farm worker’s houses to fetch the able-bodied men, as well as any visitors who may be there at the time, as fire fighting is a community project.
Once at the fire there are many things to check. Safety for humans is the primary concern. Which way is the wind pushing the fire? What type of terrain? Are there firebreaks and roads? Is there water to re-supply the firefighters? Some farmers have ‘firefighters’ on the backs of their trucks. These consist of 400-1000 liter water tanks equipped with fire hoses, powered by a small engine.
Sometimes, if the grass is short and the country bushy, we just beat out the fire physically with the beaters. The method of putting the fire out is by hitting the burning grass with the beater to deprive the flames of oxygen and then following up rapidly to the next burning tuft of grass. As one of us advances along the fire line, another person follows behind to snuff out any hot spots. With this method, it is possible to extinguish the fire fairly quickly.
When it isn’t safe to send people into the fire because of wind or tall grass, back-burns are started along firebreaks or roads. If we’re lucky and there are graded firebreaks, back-burning is a safe but slow process. This is usually done by the lead firefighting truck, which carries a gas bottle with a flame-thrower to ignite the grass. A second firefighter follows about 40-60 meters behind to let the fire spread away from the road and then sprays water on the road edge of the fire. Usually beaters on foot walk behind, making sure the fire nearest the road is out. Sometimes a third truck will follow 200 meters behind to ensure all is safe. If the fire spreads back towards the road, a quick radio call stops the two lead trucks and you can ask for extra help if needed.
One of the most important jobs is the follow-up the next day to make sure that the fire along the breaks and roads is out. In Namibia it’s amazing how a little wind can carry a burning ember across a road and then you have to start all over again.
In early October 2006, in the Outjo district, lightning ignited a fire, which spread to two farms, but by nightfall we had put it out. The next day a very strong west wind blew up the ‘dead’ fire and, with the wind behind, blew it at five kilometers an hour. We tried to back-burn to stop the fire but it raced across the road 300 meters ahead of us. We fell back to the next farm five kilometers downwind and started another back-burn, only to see the flames cross the road a 100 meters ahead of us. We had to drive another five kilometers to get in front of the fire to set up out next back-burn. By then it was four in the afternoon and we had managed to encircle the fire. I was in the lead truck and one of my jobs was to make gates where none existed. I had a pair of pliers and where a fence impeded our progress, I cut the fence to let the trucks through.
After the sun had set, the glow raged in the distance as we slowly worked our way, back-burning at one kilometer an hour. That night, the sky glowing a stunning red-orange with flames and smoke bellowing forth, the driver remarked how beautiful bush fires were – provided they were on someone else’ farm?