David Livingstone was the first European to visit the Okovanga Delta after crossing the Kalahari desert in 1849. Today, the worlds largest island delta still shelters 550 bird species, 160 types of mammal, and 75 species of freshwater fish in a nine thousand square mile web of biodiversity. I visited the delta in 1992 while travelling on route overland through Africa to take up a hospital  position in Capetown.

It was a chilly morning and we had risen early to make our way down to the flood plains of the river. A fine layer of swirling fog still blanketed the landscape, and the golden sun peered above the horizon, ready to begin another day. It’s light shimmered and danced with the morning mists, twisting and curling through the green reed beds, changing the delta into a canvas of moving colours.

Richard and I untied the moroko canoe, and pushed it slowly into the water. Emerald lily pads, as large as our boat floated alongside us. This was ngwenya country, so it was always prudent to first check the surrounding area for slumbering crocodiles. Water flows slowly in the channels, and the thick grasses of the riverbanks made excellent hiding places for the creatures. We pushed the moroko cautiously into the water and glided effortlessly across the delta. The silence and stillness of the morning was only broken by the sounds of the long steering pole thrusting into the water. We made our way along a labyrinth of sunken grasses, through tunnels of hanging papyrus reeds so densely packed that they blocked out the sunlight above us. Every now and then we heard the call of a nearby coucal, or the shrill shriek of a tawny eagle reminding us there was another triving ecosystem within this broad expanse of vegetation. Yet it was so peaceful here, listening to the sounds of the craft as it sped gently through the water. I lay back and relaxed in the morning sunlight as recollections of the previous night started flooding into my memory. Even as an act of drunken bravado, it was sheer folly to have challenged our virile Australian companions to a game of rugby in the delta. We should have learned our lesson when they had outclassed us in volleyball on Tiwi beach in Kenya, or even in that ‘shimmy up the pole’ contest in the centre of the lodge bar last night. In fact they had taken every opportunity on the trip to demonstrate to us, how males from the British Isles were really a bunch of ‘Whinging Poms’ and this was going to be our revenge.

"Patrick, don’t be falling asleep!" said Richard, awakening me from my slumbers.

"You’ll need all your energy for the rugby match later on".

"What position are you playing?" he continued.

"Probably blind-side flanker" I jokingly replied.

"Well with the amount you boys had to drink last night, I’d say you’ll be all a bit on the blind side" he laughed.

We travelled upstream for most of the morning, passing only some local game wardens bringing back a stranded gazelle to the safety of the shoreline. By late afternoon we found a small island where we disembarked and waited for the rest of the party to catch up. The island appeared to have been previously used by ivory poachers as the vegetation was strewn with the remains of elephant bones.

"We’ll use these bones as goalposts" said Richard in a most irreverent fashion.

"Maybe you should keep them as the Aussie team mascot" I replied whimsically, "It might even inject a bit of life into your side"

After a while the rest of the morokos arrived and we started to cook some food. We were now a long way out from the lodge. It had taken us four hours to make the twenty or so miles to the island. I noticed how unusual it was not to hear the distant noises of dogs barking or children playing in some nearby village. The sight of nearby crocodiles on the riverbank startled us, as we had decided to camp on the island for the night.

A small woodland kingfisher perched in a tree above our encampment and started singing. Scott got out the rugby ball and started throwing it around between us.

"We’ll play away from the water towards those two skulls, " said Alec laughing

"Then if you convert you’ll have to get the ball back from the crocodiles"

The Aussies were on the attack right from the start, and despite their light-hearted approach soon began to score try after try. From time to time we gained possession but only to lose it again as quickly, really only doing our best to limit the damage they were inflicting upon us. At half time they were twenty points clear much to the amusement of their female following, who acted as if their national side had arrived in Botswana. We sat around during the interval drinking cans of Elephant beer under the heat of an African sky and contemplating the peacefulness of the area. Jacob, one of the native guides volunteered to play for our team even though he had never held an oval ball in his life.

Midway through the second half one of our team, an English student called Mark, came down rather heavily after leading a sprightly charge against the Aussie pack. He lay on the ground clutching his right arm and screaming with pain. Being the only doctor amongst us, I was immediately called to his side. I felt the injured extremity and noted the absence of a humeral head in its normal position meant I was probably dealing with a straightforward dislocation. He lay there in agony resisting all attempts to help him. One of the Aussies tried to reduce it by placing his foot in the patient’s axilla, but to no avail. It was apparent we would have to get it back in position as soon as possible, and I was aware that we were carrying no painkillers to give him to relieve his suffering. I decided to try an old method I had heard about at medical school but never actually seen performed. It involved getting the patient onto a higher surface and hanging a weight from his arm for about twenty minutes.

"Can we get Mark over to that tree," I said, as we formed a makeshift table supported by the arms of jackets and jeans threaded into the steering poles. We got Mark to lie face downwards on the construction. We got one of our cooking pots and filled it with water and placed it into his hand. We then sat around for about twenty minutes, all thoughts of the game now over, and we made plans about getting back downstream before dark. We knew that we probably would have to drive north to a hospital in Zimbabwe with the patient, but knew we may not get a visa for him to cross the border at such short notice and we might have to stay in Botswana. After a while, I approached the patient and gently removed the cooking pot of water. I then let go off his arm and I was bowled over as I felt the shoulder ‘pop’ back into position. It was quite a feeling to see the smile return to the patients’ face as he knew everything was going to be all right again. Against all my better advice Mark got up and moved his arm in a clockwise circle demonstrating his regained function. "Never worked better," he said

Richard then turned to me and said loudly,

"We officially declare the game a draw!", Then he shook my hand and continued, "Maybe you Poms have your uses after all"