A small group ventured beyond the Limpopo into Mozambique’s wilder Pafuri region. Drawn by the elusive Pel’s Fishing Owl, they discover an untouched landscape teeming with birdlife, and moments that offered a deeper connection to the wild.
By Marc Freeman
The sun beat down as we crossed the border, leaving behind the renowned Kruger National Park and its awe-inspiring yet familiar landscapes. As we entered Mozambique’s Pafuri region, the contrast was striking. The terrain felt wilder, raw, and it became clear that this corner of Southern Africa held something truly special.
Our group of four had come here with one goal: to discover its birds and wildlife, particularly the elusive Pel’s Fishing Owl. This large, russet-coloured owl, with its deep black eyes and formidable talons, is notoriously difficult to find. Some of us had seen it before, but it was a lifelong ambition for others. We had won the trip through a “Firefinch” competition to visit Parque Nacional de Limpopo, and it felt like fate had brought us here. We were told sightings were practically guaranteed—but we tempered our expectations.
Our base for the adventure was Dumela Wilderness Safaris, nestled between woodlands and a tranquil lagoon fed by the Limpopo River. The air was thick with the sweet scent of fever trees and the earthy aroma of the forest. The lagoon, surrounded by riparian vegetation, provided ideal habitat for Pel’s Fishing Owl, which often roost in tall thick canopied natal mahogany and cluster fig trees.
There was something special about this place. The land felt alive—its warm, humid air and the occasional rustle of leaves underfoot encouraged us to slow down and take in the surroundings. The stillness urging us to appreciate every moment.
Mornings began with coffee, steam rising in coolness of the early air, which carried the sharp calls of Senegal Coucals. Our days were spent walking through the surrounding woodlands with our quiet yet knowledgeable guide, Abraham (or “Abi”). Walking through over soft, leaf-covered ground, we took in the sights and sounds, fully immersing ourselves in the wild. Perhaps we fell into the age-old trap of focusing too much on finding that one elusive species. We peered expectantly into every tree, but nothing.
He would have denied it but Abi, too, began to look a little nervous. We eventually decided to try trick the universe and just enjoy the myriad of other wonderful birds we were finding (and believe me they were wonderful). Beyond Pel’s Fishing Owl, the diversity of birdlife was astonishing. Raptors filled the skies, and we delighted in regular sightings of Ayres’s Hawk and Crowned Eagles gliding effortlessly overhead. Thick-billed Cuckoos added their distinctive calls to the symphony of the bush. The birding diversity was incredibly rich, from elusive warblers and scrub robins to large herons, hornbills, and water birds- the place had it all. Throughout the day, new special species also kept us on our toes—Racket-tailed Rollers, African Golden Orioles, Brown-necked Parrots and the promise of Arnot’s Chats. But no Owl yet.
One particularly memorable moment was observing nesting Black-throated Wattle-eyes above our campsite, a young chick had just fledged. With their striking plumage and delicate calls, these birds were a joy to watch—an intimate moment shared among the four of us. Our first day was ending and the sun began to set, we gathered at the lagoon for sundowners (nothing quite like a 2M in Moz), marvelling as White-backed Night Herons emerged. The golden light cast long shadows over the water, while vibrant Broad-billed Rollers and the peculiar Böhm’s Spinetails skimmed the surface, their silhouettes striking against the fading sky. The landscape’s heterogeneity, coupled with the exquisite lighting, made it a photographer’s dream.
As dusk settled, the haunting calls of nocturnal wildlife added an ethereal melody to the wilderness. Beneath a vast, star-filled sky, we observed African Wood Owls, African Scops Owls, and Verreaux’s Eagle Owls. Numerous nightjars and Three-banded Coursers added to the ambiance. And then we heard it, a deep echoing call, it was a Pel’s! We breathed a sigh of relief, they were really here, now we just had to find them. We were reassured that mornings were best to find our “Ghost Owls”, and before we went to sleep, we were regaled with stories of the seasonal Pennant-winged Nightjars which offer a breathtaking courtship display on the escarpment in the Park.
The next morning, eager to try again, we set out early, the heat rising quickly as we walked through the humid landscape. We startled sleeping buffalo and annoyed the occasional elephant while adding more birds to our list. Seeking respite from the heat, we paused to watch Pied Kingfishers hovering over the lagoon. Abi had stayed in the sun, looking up into the canopy of a cluster fig tree. He turned and looked at us with a sly smile. One of the members of the group who had had not yet seen a Pel’s walked over to him, and by the whispered scream that followed, it was clear—we had found it. The owl sat peering at us for a moment, then, realising it had been spotted, it burst from the tree in an explosion of orange and disappeared into the adjacent woodland. It was brief but we were delighted. We stood silently staring at the tree where the owl had been, taking in the surreal moment.
Following our first encounter, our luck seemed to change. We began seeing these fishing owls regularly—eight sightings in all. One unforgettable moment came during a sunset cruise, when we observed two adults and an immature bird perched low and silently along the water’s edge, waiting for fish to surface – a peaceful and natural scene that made all the effort to find them feel well worth it.
As our five-day expedition came to an end, we reflected on the uniqueness of the Pafuri region and the countless memories we had made. The Mozambique side felt wilder than its South African counterpart. It wasn’t just the birds or landscapes—it was the feeling of being in truly untamed wilderness, something rare in today’s world. This experience was about far more than ticking species off a list. It was about connecting with the wild in ways we hadn’t anticipated. We had met our goal, and it felt as though visiting this area had made us “Pals of the Pel’s.”
For anyone planning to explore this area, the birdlife will undoubtedly be a highlight. But it’s the spirit of the region—the sense of serenity and wildness—that will stay with you long after you leave. This is a place to be fully present, to embrace its beauty, and to experience birding in a way that is as much about the land as it is about the birds.
Marc Freeman is a post-doctoral research fellow at the University of Pretoria, where his work centres on ornithology, thermal physiology, and conservation in African ecosystems. A passionate ornithologist, he spends much of his time studying birds across some of the continent’s most extreme and beautiful environments, working in landscapes that range from deserts to forests. His research has contributed to a growing body of peer-reviewed scientific literature, with numerous articles published in leading international journals. Outside the field and lab, Marc is an avid birding and wildlife photographer, always seeking to capture the wild moments that both inspire his research and reflect his deep connection to the natural world.
Instagram: @mtfreemanphotography
Email: marc.freeman@zoology.up.ac.za
