Hippopotamus Attack on Honeymoon Couple

A honeymoon in Botswana's Okavango Delta turned into a nightmare for me and my wife Anna when we encountered a mother hippopotamus protecting her young.

We had just gotten married in Portugal in September last year after 13 years together. The vows Anna exchanged with me were sweet, but little did I know what lay ahead: "I don't know what life is going to have in store for us, but I know our love for each other is always constant."

Our honeymoon excursion was meant to be a leisurely paddle through the swamp, spotting plants and enjoying the scenery. But we had been warned about a mother hippo with two babies nearby, and were told to steer clear of her.

As I snapped photos in my canoe, which had drifted away from the others, I spotted the massive hippopotamus in the distance - its open mouth revealed big teeth, while the calves cowered behind it. The encounter started innocently enough, but things took a deadly turn when I zoomed in for a closer shot.

The guide's face turned white with fear as the hippo charged towards us, grunting and splashing through the water.

The impact was immense, like a speeding vehicle slamming into me. My body was propelled underwater, where I was pinned to the swamp floor by the hippo's crushing weight. Her jaws were constricting my chest and back, making every breath a struggle.

Anna had already witnessed the chaos unfold. She thought I was gone for good, but instead of fleeing, she launched herself at the hippo with a fierce battle cry. In a daring move, she punched the animal near its face, causing it to release me from its deadly grip.

I struggled to surface, my body screaming in agony as I tried to stand up. The pain was excruciating, and when I looked down, I saw something that made my blood run cold, my intestines were spilling out of my abdomen. In a desperate attempt to save me, I begged Anna for help.

Anna sprang into action, using her belt to create a makeshift tourniquet for my leg while holding my exposed insides in her hands. She refused to push them back inside, knowing it would only cause more harm. Instead, she carefully cradled the injury, trying to stem the bleeding and keep me stable until help arrived.

The wait for help was becoming increasingly frustrating as night began to fall. The initial 30-minute estimate had long since passed, and now it seemed unlikely that any rescue mission would be able to reach us before dark. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we were told that a helicopter wouldn't be able to make it in time.

The journey back to camp was a painful one as I was carried on a stretcher over rough terrain. Every jolt and bump sent shockwaves of agony through my body. The basic first aid kit used to treat my injuries did little to alleviate the pain, but at least it provided some semblance of care.

Anna had managed to salvage her phone from the water, an incredible feat considering its fragile state. Miraculously, it still worked and she was able to make a call to my mother just before 8pm. I took the phone from Anna's hands and spoke to my family for what would be one of the most surreal conversations of my life.

"My guts are hanging out of my back," I told the doctor who had arrived in the tent, trying to keep a sense of humor about the situation despite the gravity of my injuries. The doctor's priority was clearly getting me stable and comfortable, but it seemed that modesty wasn't high on his list either. Anna quickly covered me with a sheet, providing some much-needed dignity.

The sound of the helicopter cutting through the air just before dawn was music to our ears. It brought with it a sense of hope and relief, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for its timely arrival.

The road to recovery was long and arduous for me after being rushed into emergency surgery at Netcare Milpark hospital. The extent of my injuries was staggering: a gaping hole in my back, deep gashes on my thigh and arm, fractured ribs and vertebrae, internal damage, and crushed intestines all required urgent attention. Surgeons worked tirelessly to repair the damage.

The recovery process took its toll, with 19 days spent at the hospital before I was deemed well enough to return home. Even now, physical therapy is an ongoing necessity, as are counselling sessions for both Anna and me. It's been a humbling experience, to say the least, especially given the unexpected consequences of being on the receiving end of a hippo's territorial instincts.

The ordeal has left us with some...unusual memories. A photograph I took during our honeymoon now hangs proudly on our wall at home, an unconventional souvenir, perhaps, but one that serves as a poignant reminder of Anna's bravery and quick thinking in the face of danger.