As the camel is called the ship of the desert, the giraffe could just as well be called the ship of the savannah. They sway peacefully and gracefully across the landscape, and often you will see just the head and upper neck passing by behind some vegetation, like a ship far away on the horizon.

They might look at you as you walk or drive past - or, more correctly, look down at you - and then continue eating. Their long neck allows giraffes to eat leaves and buds from high above the ground, reaching heights of up to 6 metres. This is a smart strategy, as it means avoiding much of the food competition with other herbivores.

Their specialized, long tongue elegantly strips the leaves from acacia branches without getting stung by the sharp thorns. This tongue can be up to tens of centimeters long and wraps around branches, twists, and pulls leaves into the mouth.

Visitors see them as peaceful herbivores, but the giraffes also have some pretty decent weapons to show. In addition to the spectacular view from up above, their characteristic neck - which can itself be up to 2 metres long - is surprisingly heavy. For a male giraffe, the enormous neck can also become a formidable weapon. They swing their massive heads and necks like clubs to strike rivals in a dominance ritual called "necking." In addition, they possess an extremely dangerous kick. A giraffe’s kick is one of the most powerful and lethal self-defense mechanisms in the animal kingdom, and a well-placed kick can severely injure or even kill an adult lion.

However, they also have their Achilles' heel. You would think that stopping for a second to have a sip from a little pond is nothing to make a fuss about. Yet for a giraffe, bending down to reach anything on the ground is an extremely vulnerable moment. To drink, a giraffe must splay its front legs wide or kneel, putting its head down and making it highly vulnerable to predator attacks.

Because of this, they get much of their water from the leaves they eat, especially acacia leaves, which hold a large amount of moisture. This allows them to go for days without drinking, minimizing the time they spend in this dangerous position at waterholes.

But despite the optimal vantage point, the ramming neck, and the lethal kick, now and then they must bow down to drink. So, if you pass by and see a giraffe standing at a waterhole, it may look like an ordinary moment in the wild. For him, it is the moment when the ship of the savannah must dock, his most dangerous moment of all - and you might not even be aware of it.