By anyone’s standards, Samba the capybara has had quite a time of it since her dramatic escape from Marwell Zoo in Hampshire on March 17.
First, she popped up on a grass verge near the Ship Inn in the village of Owslebury, which must have been a surprise for the punters, given that capybaras look like guinea pigs the size of dogs.
Then, last Saturday, she was spotted sunbathing on the bank of the River Itchen, near Twyford, about three miles from the zoo, relaxing on a carpet of wild mint, buttercups and dandelions.
Sadly, her sunny reverie was interrupted by a big black labrador called Growler, whose excitable owner Claudie Paddick mistook her for a deer. She yelled at poor Growler to ‘Wait! Growler, WAIT!’, but conveniently filmed the lot – even Samba’s sharp exit into the Itchen in a perfectly executed swan dive – in a 20-second video which has gone viral.
Emergency hotline numbers have been plastered across the internet and the zoo is asking locals to keep their eyes peeled – particularly around ponds and rivers, as capybaras love water.
Reports have emerged of specialist teams working around the clock with thermal imaging drones, CCTV cameras, nets, dart guns, dog units and infra-red cameras, all hunting for the fugitive. On Wednesday, the zoo said it was exploring an unconfirmed Samba sighting in the nearby village of Allbrook. On Thursday, it announced it had permission to install humane traps along the river bank – loaded with melon, Samba’s favourite snack.
Search teams even started playing recorded capybara sounds – a cross between a guinea pig and a dog bark – in the areas she’s been spotted, and Samba’s story has been popping up on news programmes around the world.
But so far, nothing.
Meanwhile, every day or so, Samba pops up and then promptly disappears again. Waving, almost, with her furry paw.
Not quite laughing, but making it clear she has no intention of returning any time soon to the temporary quarantine pen in Marwell Zoo from which she and her sister Tango – now safely back in captivity – both escaped, a week last Tuesday.
On Thursday, the Daily Mail joined the hunt along the Itchen in the villages of Otterbourne, Allbrook and Bishopstoke.
And a few things immediately became clear.
For starters, everyone here – apart from perhaps Growler – adores capybaras.
‘Did you know that they’re related to guinea pigs and can grow up to two metres long?’ 14-year-old Aiden asks me in the Nisa supermarket. ‘And they’re herbivores and love water, so she’ll be fine by the river.’
A lady called Jean sitting in the sun by the war memorial in Bishopstoke tells me capybaras are the world’s largest rodents. ‘They come from South America and can weigh up to 80kg (176lbs),’ she says. ‘Samba’s only nine months old, so she’s much smaller.’
The first thing anyone asks when you meet them on the idyllic river bank is, ‘Have you seen her?’ More surprisingly, though, as the morning wears on, it seems that pretty much everyone has. In increasingly exotic locations.
‘Samba? I saw her last night in The Ship Inn having a pint,’ says Julie behind the till in the Nisa supermarket. ‘She was here a second ago!’ says Jane in the café at the Brambridge Park Garden Centre.
At The Otter pub in Otterbourne, landlord David Knott tells me she was in last night for a session. ‘Look, here’s some pictures,’ he says, showing me some images of Samba downing pints of Budweiser amid much revelry. Ah. The penny is beginning to drop. Particularly when even Jenny, a lovely lady in a wheelchair we meet on the river bank with Rane, her canine partner, tells me she saw Samba yesterday – at band practice.
Band practice?
‘Oh yes, look,’ she says with a wink, whipping out her phone and showing me an AI-generated picture of Samba, clutching a saxophone, with members of the Riverside Concert Band.
‘Of course, we’re all hoping she’s okay,’ she says. ‘But also that she gets a bit longer on the run, particularly in this weather.’
Because while the zoo staff are frantic with worry and braced for a long hunt – two capybaras went missing from Marwell 30 years ago and were on the loose for two months – the locals are all rooting for the escapee. And busy creating endless memes of what she could be up to. Having a blowdry at April Scott Hair in Eastleigh. Laden with shopping bags on the escalators in the Westquay Shopping Centre in Southampton. Knitting quietly in Fully Woolly Yarns in Hythe. Sipping a pint in the stands at Totton FC.
‘It’s just a bit of fun – a nice change from wars and bombing,’ says Jenny.
Not quite so much fun, of course, for the keepers at Marwell. Samba and Tango had arrived from a wildlife park in Ipswich only the day before their moonlight flit. They were due to live in a temporary quarantine area for a month, before joining some sitatunga deer in a much larger enclosure.
Zoo staff know they have their work cut out retrieving Samba.
Because while capybaras are lovely, gentle animals and pose no risk to people, pets or wildlife, they can be very hard to catch. They can move surprisingly fast on land – 22mph with a fair wind – are fantastic swimmers, can hold their breath for ten minutes under water and are brilliant at hiding.
Tucking themselves into river banks out of the way. Making sure they only defecate in the water, to befuddle tracker dogs. Moving quietly and slowly. Travelling at night. And staying close to the water.
As we walk along the Itchen Way – eyes peeled for any movement – everyone we meet is looking. Dave and Phil from Winchester with their border terrier. Margaret and Steve have come from Swanborough. ‘They’re so cute – gorgeous. Everyone loves capybaras! Our grandchildren are obsessed,’ says Margaret.
In all the sightings to date, Samba looks extremely well. The weather has been decent – not too wet or cold. And the food along the river banks is plentiful – and maybe a bit more exciting than her usual pellets.
‘Samba will be loving the river. I think there’s watercress on banks right now, and she’ll really love that,’ says Ali in the garden centre. ‘She’s living her best life!’
But perhaps David at The Otter puts it best: ‘We all want her to be safe, of course we do. But we’re a bit torn. Because we also want her to live a little and have some fun, before she’s locked up again in the zoo and it’s all over.’
