MOUNTAIN OF WORK: Cape Town’s baboon rangers — the unsung heroes of human-wildlife conflict

Capetonians may disagree about baboon policy but we should all be able to agree that the baboon rangers are worthwhile. According to a survey of baboon-affected suburbs, people trust them more than the City of Cape Town, CapeNature, SANParks and baboon advocacy organisations.   

Baboon rangers (sometimes called monitors) were first trialled in 2009 when Baboon Matters (a baboon advocacy organisation) was awarded the first City of Cape Town contract to keep baboons out of urban hotspots. The initiative grew in size and scope and has since 2013 been run by specialist wildlife organisations (the most recent being Shark Spotters). 

All baboon troops whose territories have come to include urban areas are monitored by baboon rangers. According to data in published reports, success varies by area. Some places, like Zwaanswyk and Tokai, where there is natural forage and a baboon-proof electric fence, most days are free of urban baboon incursions. A relatively small number of baboon rangers can thus manage a relatively large number of baboons.

In other cases, notably the habituated Simon’s Town troops – Waterfall and Seaforth – it has proved almost impossible to keep them out of town despite relatively low numbers of baboons per ranger. This is why those troops have been earmarked for removal to a sanctuary. The other persistently urban troops on the Southern Peninsula (Da Gama and Slangkop) will remain in situ, but the work of baboon rangers will hopefully be made easier by the building of strategic electric fences. A new electric fence is being erected behind the Constantia vineyards and when that is completed the Constantia troops (CT1 and CT2) will be pushed behind it and hopefully prevented by baboon rangers from crossing back over Constantia Nek.    

The central challenge is to prevent baboons from ever becoming habituated urban dwellers. That baboon rangers have kept the Smitswinkel Bay, Groot Olifantsbos and Mountain troops mostly out of town is something to be celebrated. But their job requires persistence and adaptability. 

Last week, when visiting the informal settlement of Red Hill in the mountains behind Simon’s Town, I saw baboons and baboon rangers in action. Several members of the Groot Olifantsbos troop entered C section of Red Hill from the main road, traversing over and between the shacks to reach a ramshackle pigsty. 

Pig food, I had learnt from talking to residents of Red Hill, was the major attractant for baboons since there is little organic waste to scavenge (and most people have given up vegetable gardening because of the baboons). Baboons will, of course, scavenge opportunistically from homes with doors left open and food in sight, but it is the pigsties, with their large buckets of bran mix and kitchen cuttings, that are prized targets. 

As I watched, the baboons jumped on the sty, entered through the roof, knocked over the bins and pushed open a rickety gate.

A baboon ranger, who had been monitoring the troop, rushed to the scene but was unable to secure the sty on his own. Baboons fled when he fired his paintball blanks at them, but they retreated only a few metres. He righted the bins and called his teammates for assistance. They were stuck in Scarborough, pushing a baboon troop from the Cape Point Nature Reserve out of town. When he walked out onto the road to wait for them, the baboons quickly returned to scavenge the spilt pig food.

Revealing

The episode was revealing on many levels. First, it was yet another illustration of the appeal of human settlements as a site of easy calories. 

Second, the baboon rangers were clearly worked off their feet. Only four are assigned to the Groot Olifantsbos troop, which comprises more than 50 baboons. And, when a troop from the reserve made an unexpected incursion, they were spread even thinner.

Third, the paintball blanks were only marginally effective: a single baboon ranger could not deter the troop from targeting the sty until others arrived. 

Fourth, the rangers were obviously respected and admired. I watched a child hug a ranger, and when a resident started throwing stones at the baboons, the ranger asked him politely not to – and he desisted immediately. The ranger explained that it was best not to provoke conflict with the baboons (or hurt them). He later told me that he and the other rangers have run education sessions in the Red Hill library and have asked people across the settlement not to set their dogs on the baboons. 

The baboon rangers are keen observers of baboon behaviour and ecology. According to one of the baboon rangers, the Groot Olifantsbos females had fled to the Red Hill area because they had heard the reserve troop males barking and feared that their babies would be killed. The rest of the troop had followed. The ranger speculated that the baboons had entered Red Hill because their territory comprising natural forage had shrunk accordingly. Pushing the reserve troop back into the reserve was a priority for the rangers that day. 

The episode is also revealing of the fluid nature of baboon life in Cape Town, and of the need for quick, adaptive management. Baboon rangers are, and should be, at the centre of efforts to allow baboons to live free lives outside of urban areas. Strategic fencing can help but will only work where baboon rangers can be deployed to prevent baboons going around the side. 

South Africa has an unemployment crisis. Given the pressing need for labour-intensive employment, expanding these useful, eco-friendly and respected jobs is surely a no-brainer. DM