About five years ago, my wife and I joined my family on a safari trip in Africa. Although I had engaged in many similar trips before, this was my wife’s first, which gave me both a sense of new wonder and slight amusement at her varied reactions to the real and perceived pitfalls of such a trip. One day in particular sticks out in my mind. Around 3 p.m., we went on our second excursion of the day—a dugout canoe tour of some of the local marshlands. For the uninitiated, the dugout is basically a water-soaked log with a slight indentation called the hull. The clearance level between the side of the dugout and the water is 3-4 inches maximum, and the method of propulsion is a local man/boy (I’ve seen Kobe beef with more muscle) with a stick no more sturdy than a pool cue.
Needless to say, my wife was neither amused nor particularly eager to get in the canoe. After a bit of assurance, (the lodge wouldn’t sponsor this activity if it were dangerous, and there aren’t any crocs or hippos in this part of the swamp) my wife bravely got on the log. As we pushed off the bank, there was clear water ahead and a slight flow from right to left. On our left was a big bush/tree (all things defy simple description when floating on a log in the heart of Africa). You could hear the water flow through the leaves and branches.
As we started to clear the bush, the water got louder and I started to wonder if this trip would be more turbulent than anticipated. Just then, not 20 yards from the log was an elephant bull, just as surprised to see us as we it. Fortunately, both Jane and I were too startled (all right, SCARED) to utter a peep and the elephant chose to saunter away instead of attack. Needless to say, that’s when we ended our afternoon adventure and chose to go back to the camp.
That night I sat on the porch of our tent nursing a cigar and a large scotch. Although we were on dry land, during the rainy season it floods, so the camp site/lodge is on a stilt and dock system, where tents are erected on bamboo pedestals. About 25 yards from our porch, you could see the moon reflect off the few patches of still water. Otherwise, all you could see was dark, oddly shaped areas; they could be trees, bushes, or hippos. We knew the hippos were out—you could hear them eating—but felt a bit at ease as we were perched 10 feet above the water line and the hippos rarely get out of the water.
After about 10 minutes of a fruitless hippo search, my wife came out and asked what I was doing, as it was too dark to see anything. I explained that the moon was shining enough light onto the small pools of water, so I should be able to make out the outline of a beast. After a moment of silence my wife said “What moon? It’s too cloudy to see anything in the sky.” As I looked up, the same fear I felt earlier was washing over me. Jane was right, there was no moon. But if there is no moon, what is reflecting off the water? Just then, the security guards with their spotlights came by and I instantly realized that the shimmering pools of light were actually the hippos. Their backs were reflecting the encampment’s lights and they were a heck of a lot closer than I had realized. I finished the scotch in one gulp, bid the security crew a safe night, and quickly retired to the confines of the tent with my wife.
There are two lessons learned that night that bear repeating in this current economy. First, just because you are in a better situation than before does not mean you’re safe. Sure, the economy is showing improvement, a run on banks seems to be in the distant past, and unemployment is down; however, Europe is a mess, the CMBS market has yet to shake out its bad investments, and we still have over eight months of a tumultuous presidential election ahead of us.
The second lesson is far more subtle: Be aware of your surroundings. Like my mistaking the hippos for tranquil pools of water, it is easy in these times to make a similar mistake. In the past few months, several buildings have come to market, some by force others by choice. Everyone on the street is talking of how cheap one can acquire said buildings.
Beware, I say. Are these cheap by today’s standards, or by 2007 standards? High occupancy you say? Well, what is the rollover rate over the next few years, and how many of the current tenants are beyond their tipping point and plan to move out regardless of ownership? The building looks beautiful and is a landmark. What has the maintenance program been like and are the mechanicals up to date? In other words, caveat emptor.
In conclusion, if you take along the right tools and people, this year can be a wonderful adventure filled with stories for the friends and kids. On the other hand, if you are not ever vigilant and aware of your surroundings, that shimmering pool of water may end up eating you for dinner.
