Walking with Legends: Photographing Craig and the Elephants of Amboseli

Amboseli is a place that leaves its mark. Not just for the vast landscape or the view of Mount Kilimanjaro rising beyond the horizon, but for its elephants. These are some of the most iconic, wild, and deeply respected animals left on Earth. Among them is Craig, a living legend and the subject of one of my most meaningful elephant print projects.

For years, I had heard his name spoken by guides, conservationists, and fellow photographers. Craig is not just any elephant. He’s one of the few remaining big tuskers in Africa, meaning his tusks are long enough to touch the ground. He is old, wise, and known throughout Amboseli. Meeting him was something I had always hoped for. Nothing prepared me for the moment it actually happened.

The Journey to Amboseli

Amboseli National Park sits in southern Kenya, close to the border with Tanzania. It’s a place shaped by extremes. Dusty plains, seasonal swamps, open skies, and the silhouette of Kilimanjaro watching from across the border. For photographers, it’s one of the most visually rewarding places in Africa.

But more than anything, Amboseli is known for its elephants. Large, healthy herds roam the open land, often with young calves in tow. Some families have been studied and monitored for decades. The elephants are relatively relaxed around vehicles, which allows for quiet observation and thoughtful photography.

I had come here many times, always drawn by the promise of open space and the chance to document elephant behaviour in a natural, unhurried way. But this time was different. This time, I was hoping to meet Craig.

Tracking a Giant

Finding Craig is not guaranteed. Despite his size, he blends into the landscape with surprising ease. He does not follow the herds. He often moves alone or with a small group of bulls. On some days, he might not be seen at all.

I was working with a guide who knew the area well and had a deep respect for the elephants. Early one morning, just after sunrise, word came through the radio. Craig had been spotted near one of the exit gates of the park. We quickly drove in that direction, keeping our distance and scanning the landscape for movement.

And then there he was.

In the Presence of Craig

From a distance, Craig already looked impressive. As we got closer, it was his tusks that drew the eye. They swept forward in a wide arc, long and heavy, almost unreal in their length. His ears moved gently as he walked, his skin worn and textured, marked by years of survival in the wild.

He wasn’t doing anything dramatic. Just walking. Slowly. Deliberately. Each step quiet and steady. Dust rose softly around his feet. The early light filtered through the haze, and the only sounds were distant bird calls and the rhythm of his movement.

There is something about being in the presence of a creature like this that quiets the world around you. No matter how many elephants you’ve seen, meeting a true tusker is something else entirely. He moved with quiet confidence. Not arrogance. Just presence.

As a photographer, that’s what I wanted to capture. Not just the weight of those tusks, but the calm authority he carried. The connection to the land. The feeling that I was witnessing something incredibly rare. I waited, kept my distance, and let the light and his movement shape the moment.

Photographing with Respect

Wildlife photography often rewards patience. Amboseli is the perfect place to slow down. Craig gave me that opportunity. He wasn’t bothered by our presence, but I kept a respectful distance. The last thing I wanted was to affect his behaviour.

I waited for the moments in between. The glance to the side. The pause near a patch of grass. The silhouette of his tusks against the morning light. I wasn’t trying to document every detail. I was trying to create a portrait. Something quiet and lasting. Something that might stay with someone long after they looked at the print.

This is what fine art wildlife photography means to me. Not action. Not spectacle. Just a genuine moment that speaks to the character of the animal.

More Than One Elephant

Craig was the highlight of that trip, but he wasn’t the only elephant I spent time with. The family herds of Amboseli move together with an unspoken rhythm. The matriarchs lead. Calves follow closely, often trunk to tail. Young males play and test each other. Older females guide with subtle signals.

I spent hours just watching. I photographed when the light felt right, and tried to stay as unobtrusive as possible. I focused on body language, interaction, and the way elephants respond to each other. You learn a lot from simply observing.

It reminded me that even a legend like Craig was once a calf in a herd like this, following his mother and learning how to live.

Why It Matters

Elephants like Craig are rare. Approximately 20-25 big tuskers are believed to remain in Africa. Their tusks make them targets for poachers, even now. Craig has survived, thanks in part to strong conservation efforts and the people who care deeply about preserving Amboseli’s natural heritage.

When I got home and started going through the images, one frame stood out right away. It was a simple profile of Craig, taken from a very low angle to make the most of his size and presence. His tusks filled the frame and the light was clean. There was no dust. Nothing dramatic. Just the famous elephant Craig, standing quietly in the open. That photo made it into my print collection and it’s still one of the most meaningful I’ve taken.

For me, photography is a way to hold on to these moments and share them with others who may never set foot in Amboseli. A way to tell the stories of animals like Craig. A way to remind us that wild places and wild creatures still exist, and still matter.

More of my work is found on www.johansiggesson.com