Cleathorn
AH veteran
Safari hunters plan. Sometimes for years. It takes time to pick the right location, target species, gun and caliber, bullets, airline, taxidermist, and other details of safari hunting. We did not do any of those things.
The ringing phone was my very good, and slightly crazy, friend Lary. “Hey Mark, you wanna go hunting” he asked. “You know I do, that is why you called, what are we hunting?” A simple question. “Elephant.” Hmm, didn’t expect that. “When” I asked, thinking it was a reasonable response. With Lary, few things are reasonable - “this weekend.” It was currently Wednesday.
“Where are you now?” I asked. “Elephant hunting in Botswana.” Well, that explained a lot. “Hang on Mark, ‘yea that’s a real nice bull.’” Again, hmm. “Lary, where are you right now?” “I just said I was Elephant hunting in Botswana.” “No, I mean right now, as in, is there an elephant standing in front of you right now?” “Yes. A real good one, these guys really want me to shoot it.” Again, for the third time on this call, hmm. This was shaping up as an unusual trip.
In fairness, I have always said that I could get anywhere in the world in 72 hours. It helps if I know where I am going, but more on that later. Lary seems to take great amusement in testing my 72-hour travel resolve. He might plan a trip 6 months ahead of time, but I think he would still wait to call me on his way to the airport just to see what would happen. I’d get there, just to prove I could.
“Mark, I really got to go, this bull is getting a little nervous, I’ll see you in a few days.” At this point the line was still open and I could hear the roar of heavy double guns and trumpeting elephants, so the conversation seemed over, and I had to book a plane ticket. Where did he say we were going hunting? I knew where he was hunting, not where we would be hunting, and that is an important distinction.
I got a very helpful text a few hours later. “Arrive Jo’Berg on the 7th and leave Jo’Berg on the 16th. Elephant.” So I booked a ticket, packed a light bag and within 72 hours I was in Jo’Berg. Lary does not pack light – anything less than 3 overweight bags and a carry on would be a day trip. I knew that if I did not have it, he would have 3 spares.
A very nice porter met me coming off the plane. He found my bag, helped me clear customs and security and we were off. Customs in Johannesburg is easier without guns. Hunting is harder, but customs is much easier. We arrived at the hotel after about an hour drive and checked in. The hotel clerk was very helpful and the first person that knew my itinerary: Lary would fly in the next morning, and we would leave for Zimbabwe on Thursday. So, we were hunting Zimbabwe, good I like Zimbabwe.
I really can get anywhere in the world in 72 hours, but not with guns, especially not when you have no earthly idea where you are going and only a few hours to pack. So, I didn’t have a gun. Any gun. Did I mention that we would be hunting elephant? At this point there were still more questions than answers. But we were headed to Zimbabwe.
Lary arrived just as the clerk said he would. We had a nice dinner, made a plan for the next morning, and were off to bed. We managed to screw up the plan before we even had breakfast, but at least we started the day with a plan.
We made it to the small airport near our hotel within a few minutes. That explains why we were so far from Jo’Berg. We picked up Lary’s gun from storage and boarded our charter to Zimbabwe. The charter was new information, but at least the information was starting to flow. Wait, who was paying for this charter? Details.
We cleared customs in Buffalo Range, Zimbabwe. It is a very small airport. One plane (ours), with only two passengers (us), and it still took 30 minutes to clear customs. It’s Africa. A short 30-minute flight later and we were on an airstrip being met by two land cruisers and some very nice professional hunters. Lary went in the first cruiser, and I jumped in the second cruiser.
The initial conversation was standard - hi, how are you, good flights, and on. With the pleasantries aside, I got down to details. “Where are we” I eventually asked. A very confused PH asked in return, “who are you?” Turns out he was expecting someone else on this elephant hunt. After a few additional minutes of discussion, we established that I did not know where we were, what the plan was, or who was actually hunting what and the PH established that he had no idea what was going on at all, did not know or expect either one of us, and wanted a beer. The camp was beautiful. David, our camp porter, brought heated towels, a welcome drink, and some light snacks before lunch.
After a late lunch and a quick change of clothes, we were off to hunt elephant. But I need a gun. PHs almost always have an extra gun, if you tell them ahead of time. We did not tell them ahead of time. Eventually they found a very nice bolt action 375H&H magnum and four solids for elephant hunting. Four. At least I had a gun.
There is no sighting in the rifle when you only have 4 bullets. And who hunts elephant with only four bullets anyway. Four. Fortunately, Lary brought his exceptionally nice 470 nitro express double rifle and a lot of bullets. Fifty-seven to be exact. I know that exact number because I watched the customs guy at Buffalo Range count each and every one of them just a few hours earlier. He counted them several times, one by one. Ignore that they come in boxes of 20, he counted them all anyway.
We found elephant tracks within a few hours and were out of the truck to start a track. I will openly admit to coveting Lary’s double rifle, it’s spectacular. “Here Mark, you carry the double rifle, I will take this bolt gun.” It was so generous, I took the gun, the ammo belt and loaded up to take up the track. Lary took the bolt gun and all four bullets and off we went. It was a long way into the walk when it occurred to me, not only was I carrying a gun that I had never shot before, so was Lary. I seem to vaguely recall getting advice about using whatever gun you shoot the most and are most comfortable with, but I was in the bush on the track of elephant with a gun that cost more than my first house and car, combined, and this hunt was not big on formalities anyway.
The next few days were incredible. We walked in on 44 different bull elephant of all shapes and size, mostly larger than the non-trophy bull we were hunting. I never thought that finding something smaller would be an issue, but here we were. We also saw cows with calves, teenage bulls acting up and getting slapped around by the matriarch, and a group of older bulls circling the cows and calves looking for an opportunity. They can get pretty cheeky as the Zimbabweans sometimes say, and we had more than the usual number of hair-raising encounters. It was truly awesome.
On the way back to camp on day three, we saw a black-backed jackal crossing a pan. I tried to capitalize on the opportunity. Careful aim, steady, squeeze the trigger and “click.” The primer was hard hit but the gun did not fire. That was the bullet in the chamber on those first stalks. “Well now we know that bullet doesn’t work, good information,” said Lary. “That’s the lesson you learned from that” I responded, somewhat enthusiastically. We were already onto a new and irrelevant topic, so I guess it was better to find out about the misfire before we found the elephant. We now had 3 solids, and no jackal. That evening we did manage to scrounge up 2 soft bullets for plains game. We also found a .308 and five bullets for it, so life was good.
We agreed that we would both shoot the bull, with simultaneous first shots. Why not. The classic 3, 2, 1, shoot method would apply. I had my doubts about Lary’s sincerity from the outset. I’m not sure what exactly caused my concern, but it could have been that he gave me his custom-built double rifle and bullets, or that he was comfortable with only 3 bullets, or that the trackers seemed to have the gun more than he did, but anyway, I was suspicious.
I am not questioning his integrity mind you, it’s that I know him, and in situations like his integrity would be entirely missing. I know it, Lary knows it, and almost everyone who knows him knows it.
Late in the day on day 5, we finally found the right bull. An older, mature bull with thick but short ivory. Perfect for the game management plans of the area. It is a very well managed area. Our bull was in with three other bulls so that would eventually pose some challenges, but we would deal with that later, a few seconds later mind you, but later none-the-less.
It was a good thing we found him, since we only had 6 days to hunt. I realize that only booking 6 days to hunt elephant is ridiculous, but given all the other issues, that was hardly the tipping point. Regardless, we had a shootable bull broadside at roughly 20 meters. Dispatching with the 3, 2, 1 plan, the PH simply said, “when I say shoot, you shoot.”
“Shoot.” As expected, nothing. So, I waited. The half seconds seemed like seconds, when finally, I heard the crack of that 375H&H Lary was carrying. I fired instantly.
The chaos of elephant hunting is hard to describe. Bulls where trumpeting and running, hunters were shooting and shouting the “hey, hey, hey” of every TV show ever made of elephant hunting (who knew you really do that) and a companion bull was on us fast. I watched as our highly competent PH followed the closest bull with his sights firmly trained on him, just in case it went sideways. The air was thick with dust and the elephants trumpeting was loud and intimidating. As that companion bull past us a few meters away, I put a second shot into our bull. Then I heard Lary fire a second shot and we heard our bull go down. The mopane bush is so thick we had to proceed with a lot of caution. Our bull went less than 100 meters and was down, but not over. A few brain shots ended the affair.
The usual skinning, butchering, and roasted elephant meat over the open mopane fire ensued. There might have been beer as well, but who really knows what happens that deep in the bush. Another PH who was hunting the area joined in and it turned out he and Lary and hunted together years before in the Central African Republic. That about perfectly sums up the difference between us: I have to make my kids go get pizza with me so I don’t have to go alone, and Lary can fly to the other side of the world, then take a charter flight to an airport that barely exists, and then take a land cruiser to the 12,181st mopane tree on the left, and run into an old friend. There is nothing like a nice fire, a cold beer, and some great lies among friends old and new to make a perfect evening. It is what hunting is all about.
We had one last day to hunt. And it was slow. So far, we only had 1 jackal (I did get a jackal along the way) and one elephant. As we came down the steep bank towards the river crossing, Lary yelled from inside the cruiser, “hey Mark, bet you can’t hit that Guinea Fowl across the river.”
What is he talking about, it was only 40 meters? “With the 470” he added. There it was, the Guinea Fowl with the 470 challenge was on. The admittedly fluid rules of the Guinea Fowl challenge dictate offhand shooting, no sticks permitted. I thought I had it on the first shot. “He nearly got it” said the PH. Whether he was bemused, bewildered, or just plain confused, our PH still seemed impressed. Then I fired the second barrel, and the Guinea Fowl dropped. “He shot its head clean off, with a bloody 470” exclaimed the now truly shocked PH. We were laughing hard; the poor PH could not contain his “what is wrong with you two” mutterings. He said it out loud, and I was hurt. Not really, but when he refused to let me use his 577 nitro for the Francolin hunt, then I was hurt.
We finished well after dark, taking a serval cat on the drive back to camp with a single shot with the .308 at well over 100 meters. Serval are very small cats. Our PHs clearly questioned our sanity, but not our shooting. With a few hours before our charter flight back to Johannesburg the next morning, we also managed to take a baboon with the same .308. We turned in the borrowed guns with 1 solid and 2 softs remaining for the 375H&H magnum, and 2 bullets for the .308. It was a well-timed exit.
We changed our return flights, caught the charter a day early, and said our goodbyes at the airport. We had a Black-backed Jackal, a Serval cat and a Baboon in the skinning shed to go along with the elephant. We passed up countless kudu, impala, zebra and wildebeest along the way. Why hunt kudu when jackal and baboon are available, or Guinea Fowl with a 470 nitro. The species do not matter nearly as much as who you hunt them with.
As a rule, I would encourage a well-planned safari. Know your gun and shoot it often. When you don’t have time to plan, you can still accomplish a lot with just a passport, a flexible schedule, and a good attitude. A pocket full of money helps too, especially if it’s Lary’s. We will meet up again on a hunt somewhere, at some point, for something, and I know he will call, I slipped his ammo belt and the rest of the 470 bullets into my bag at security. He'll call eventually.
Editor’s Note: Lary and “Mark” are very experienced, between them they have been on more than 50 African safaris. They have collectively shot 14 elephants, more than 20 lion and leopard, plus hippos, crocodiles, rhino, a whole lot of cape buffalo and countless other game across the six huntable continents. The PHs on this hunt are some of the best (and most respectable) hunters currently active in Africa. Lary and "Mark" might not have planned the hunt, but someone clearly did. Thanks Corey.
The ringing phone was my very good, and slightly crazy, friend Lary. “Hey Mark, you wanna go hunting” he asked. “You know I do, that is why you called, what are we hunting?” A simple question. “Elephant.” Hmm, didn’t expect that. “When” I asked, thinking it was a reasonable response. With Lary, few things are reasonable - “this weekend.” It was currently Wednesday.
“Where are you now?” I asked. “Elephant hunting in Botswana.” Well, that explained a lot. “Hang on Mark, ‘yea that’s a real nice bull.’” Again, hmm. “Lary, where are you right now?” “I just said I was Elephant hunting in Botswana.” “No, I mean right now, as in, is there an elephant standing in front of you right now?” “Yes. A real good one, these guys really want me to shoot it.” Again, for the third time on this call, hmm. This was shaping up as an unusual trip.
In fairness, I have always said that I could get anywhere in the world in 72 hours. It helps if I know where I am going, but more on that later. Lary seems to take great amusement in testing my 72-hour travel resolve. He might plan a trip 6 months ahead of time, but I think he would still wait to call me on his way to the airport just to see what would happen. I’d get there, just to prove I could.
“Mark, I really got to go, this bull is getting a little nervous, I’ll see you in a few days.” At this point the line was still open and I could hear the roar of heavy double guns and trumpeting elephants, so the conversation seemed over, and I had to book a plane ticket. Where did he say we were going hunting? I knew where he was hunting, not where we would be hunting, and that is an important distinction.
I got a very helpful text a few hours later. “Arrive Jo’Berg on the 7th and leave Jo’Berg on the 16th. Elephant.” So I booked a ticket, packed a light bag and within 72 hours I was in Jo’Berg. Lary does not pack light – anything less than 3 overweight bags and a carry on would be a day trip. I knew that if I did not have it, he would have 3 spares.
A very nice porter met me coming off the plane. He found my bag, helped me clear customs and security and we were off. Customs in Johannesburg is easier without guns. Hunting is harder, but customs is much easier. We arrived at the hotel after about an hour drive and checked in. The hotel clerk was very helpful and the first person that knew my itinerary: Lary would fly in the next morning, and we would leave for Zimbabwe on Thursday. So, we were hunting Zimbabwe, good I like Zimbabwe.
I really can get anywhere in the world in 72 hours, but not with guns, especially not when you have no earthly idea where you are going and only a few hours to pack. So, I didn’t have a gun. Any gun. Did I mention that we would be hunting elephant? At this point there were still more questions than answers. But we were headed to Zimbabwe.
Lary arrived just as the clerk said he would. We had a nice dinner, made a plan for the next morning, and were off to bed. We managed to screw up the plan before we even had breakfast, but at least we started the day with a plan.
We made it to the small airport near our hotel within a few minutes. That explains why we were so far from Jo’Berg. We picked up Lary’s gun from storage and boarded our charter to Zimbabwe. The charter was new information, but at least the information was starting to flow. Wait, who was paying for this charter? Details.
We cleared customs in Buffalo Range, Zimbabwe. It is a very small airport. One plane (ours), with only two passengers (us), and it still took 30 minutes to clear customs. It’s Africa. A short 30-minute flight later and we were on an airstrip being met by two land cruisers and some very nice professional hunters. Lary went in the first cruiser, and I jumped in the second cruiser.
The initial conversation was standard - hi, how are you, good flights, and on. With the pleasantries aside, I got down to details. “Where are we” I eventually asked. A very confused PH asked in return, “who are you?” Turns out he was expecting someone else on this elephant hunt. After a few additional minutes of discussion, we established that I did not know where we were, what the plan was, or who was actually hunting what and the PH established that he had no idea what was going on at all, did not know or expect either one of us, and wanted a beer. The camp was beautiful. David, our camp porter, brought heated towels, a welcome drink, and some light snacks before lunch.
After a late lunch and a quick change of clothes, we were off to hunt elephant. But I need a gun. PHs almost always have an extra gun, if you tell them ahead of time. We did not tell them ahead of time. Eventually they found a very nice bolt action 375H&H magnum and four solids for elephant hunting. Four. At least I had a gun.
There is no sighting in the rifle when you only have 4 bullets. And who hunts elephant with only four bullets anyway. Four. Fortunately, Lary brought his exceptionally nice 470 nitro express double rifle and a lot of bullets. Fifty-seven to be exact. I know that exact number because I watched the customs guy at Buffalo Range count each and every one of them just a few hours earlier. He counted them several times, one by one. Ignore that they come in boxes of 20, he counted them all anyway.
We found elephant tracks within a few hours and were out of the truck to start a track. I will openly admit to coveting Lary’s double rifle, it’s spectacular. “Here Mark, you carry the double rifle, I will take this bolt gun.” It was so generous, I took the gun, the ammo belt and loaded up to take up the track. Lary took the bolt gun and all four bullets and off we went. It was a long way into the walk when it occurred to me, not only was I carrying a gun that I had never shot before, so was Lary. I seem to vaguely recall getting advice about using whatever gun you shoot the most and are most comfortable with, but I was in the bush on the track of elephant with a gun that cost more than my first house and car, combined, and this hunt was not big on formalities anyway.
The next few days were incredible. We walked in on 44 different bull elephant of all shapes and size, mostly larger than the non-trophy bull we were hunting. I never thought that finding something smaller would be an issue, but here we were. We also saw cows with calves, teenage bulls acting up and getting slapped around by the matriarch, and a group of older bulls circling the cows and calves looking for an opportunity. They can get pretty cheeky as the Zimbabweans sometimes say, and we had more than the usual number of hair-raising encounters. It was truly awesome.
On the way back to camp on day three, we saw a black-backed jackal crossing a pan. I tried to capitalize on the opportunity. Careful aim, steady, squeeze the trigger and “click.” The primer was hard hit but the gun did not fire. That was the bullet in the chamber on those first stalks. “Well now we know that bullet doesn’t work, good information,” said Lary. “That’s the lesson you learned from that” I responded, somewhat enthusiastically. We were already onto a new and irrelevant topic, so I guess it was better to find out about the misfire before we found the elephant. We now had 3 solids, and no jackal. That evening we did manage to scrounge up 2 soft bullets for plains game. We also found a .308 and five bullets for it, so life was good.
We agreed that we would both shoot the bull, with simultaneous first shots. Why not. The classic 3, 2, 1, shoot method would apply. I had my doubts about Lary’s sincerity from the outset. I’m not sure what exactly caused my concern, but it could have been that he gave me his custom-built double rifle and bullets, or that he was comfortable with only 3 bullets, or that the trackers seemed to have the gun more than he did, but anyway, I was suspicious.
I am not questioning his integrity mind you, it’s that I know him, and in situations like his integrity would be entirely missing. I know it, Lary knows it, and almost everyone who knows him knows it.
Late in the day on day 5, we finally found the right bull. An older, mature bull with thick but short ivory. Perfect for the game management plans of the area. It is a very well managed area. Our bull was in with three other bulls so that would eventually pose some challenges, but we would deal with that later, a few seconds later mind you, but later none-the-less.
It was a good thing we found him, since we only had 6 days to hunt. I realize that only booking 6 days to hunt elephant is ridiculous, but given all the other issues, that was hardly the tipping point. Regardless, we had a shootable bull broadside at roughly 20 meters. Dispatching with the 3, 2, 1 plan, the PH simply said, “when I say shoot, you shoot.”
“Shoot.” As expected, nothing. So, I waited. The half seconds seemed like seconds, when finally, I heard the crack of that 375H&H Lary was carrying. I fired instantly.
The chaos of elephant hunting is hard to describe. Bulls where trumpeting and running, hunters were shooting and shouting the “hey, hey, hey” of every TV show ever made of elephant hunting (who knew you really do that) and a companion bull was on us fast. I watched as our highly competent PH followed the closest bull with his sights firmly trained on him, just in case it went sideways. The air was thick with dust and the elephants trumpeting was loud and intimidating. As that companion bull past us a few meters away, I put a second shot into our bull. Then I heard Lary fire a second shot and we heard our bull go down. The mopane bush is so thick we had to proceed with a lot of caution. Our bull went less than 100 meters and was down, but not over. A few brain shots ended the affair.
The usual skinning, butchering, and roasted elephant meat over the open mopane fire ensued. There might have been beer as well, but who really knows what happens that deep in the bush. Another PH who was hunting the area joined in and it turned out he and Lary and hunted together years before in the Central African Republic. That about perfectly sums up the difference between us: I have to make my kids go get pizza with me so I don’t have to go alone, and Lary can fly to the other side of the world, then take a charter flight to an airport that barely exists, and then take a land cruiser to the 12,181st mopane tree on the left, and run into an old friend. There is nothing like a nice fire, a cold beer, and some great lies among friends old and new to make a perfect evening. It is what hunting is all about.
We had one last day to hunt. And it was slow. So far, we only had 1 jackal (I did get a jackal along the way) and one elephant. As we came down the steep bank towards the river crossing, Lary yelled from inside the cruiser, “hey Mark, bet you can’t hit that Guinea Fowl across the river.”
What is he talking about, it was only 40 meters? “With the 470” he added. There it was, the Guinea Fowl with the 470 challenge was on. The admittedly fluid rules of the Guinea Fowl challenge dictate offhand shooting, no sticks permitted. I thought I had it on the first shot. “He nearly got it” said the PH. Whether he was bemused, bewildered, or just plain confused, our PH still seemed impressed. Then I fired the second barrel, and the Guinea Fowl dropped. “He shot its head clean off, with a bloody 470” exclaimed the now truly shocked PH. We were laughing hard; the poor PH could not contain his “what is wrong with you two” mutterings. He said it out loud, and I was hurt. Not really, but when he refused to let me use his 577 nitro for the Francolin hunt, then I was hurt.
We finished well after dark, taking a serval cat on the drive back to camp with a single shot with the .308 at well over 100 meters. Serval are very small cats. Our PHs clearly questioned our sanity, but not our shooting. With a few hours before our charter flight back to Johannesburg the next morning, we also managed to take a baboon with the same .308. We turned in the borrowed guns with 1 solid and 2 softs remaining for the 375H&H magnum, and 2 bullets for the .308. It was a well-timed exit.
We changed our return flights, caught the charter a day early, and said our goodbyes at the airport. We had a Black-backed Jackal, a Serval cat and a Baboon in the skinning shed to go along with the elephant. We passed up countless kudu, impala, zebra and wildebeest along the way. Why hunt kudu when jackal and baboon are available, or Guinea Fowl with a 470 nitro. The species do not matter nearly as much as who you hunt them with.
As a rule, I would encourage a well-planned safari. Know your gun and shoot it often. When you don’t have time to plan, you can still accomplish a lot with just a passport, a flexible schedule, and a good attitude. A pocket full of money helps too, especially if it’s Lary’s. We will meet up again on a hunt somewhere, at some point, for something, and I know he will call, I slipped his ammo belt and the rest of the 470 bullets into my bag at security. He'll call eventually.
Editor’s Note: Lary and “Mark” are very experienced, between them they have been on more than 50 African safaris. They have collectively shot 14 elephants, more than 20 lion and leopard, plus hippos, crocodiles, rhino, a whole lot of cape buffalo and countless other game across the six huntable continents. The PHs on this hunt are some of the best (and most respectable) hunters currently active in Africa. Lary and "Mark" might not have planned the hunt, but someone clearly did. Thanks Corey.
