Gents,
Be careful what you wish for! This is from my "log" so contains some weird stuff, emotions, etc. This was my first hunt in Africa, even though I live here! My primary illness is game fishing, something that they have not managed to screw up completely here, YET!
Namibia Hunt - Ozondjahe Hunting Safaris 8/6/10 - 8/14/10
Friday 8/6/10
We departed Luanda, Angola pretty much on time, 14.30. The temp export of the rifles was fairly painless, with the only time consuming part, being the various officials wanting to take copies of various dox, at various times. Next time we’ll take plenty of photo copies of tickets, passports, etc. A couple of swift Bacardis in the biz class lounge, eased us into holiday mode.
Good flight on Air Namibia and after a couple of beers we were arriving at Windhoek airport. A few tense minutes passed, as our guns didn’t appear, but once they did, the police official dealt with our import papers quickly and efficiently. We were out through customs to meet Eduard our driver, by about 17.30. He had been briefed to bring a cool box with Taffel and Savanas to sustain us during our drive through the parched Namibian wilderness. The 240kms to Ozondjahe should have taken around 2.5 hours, but with the frequent stops, to water the arid ground, we took the better part of 3 hours to reach our destination. It was a surreal experience to drive down the drive way in the dark, past the palm trees that lined each side, lit up by the head lights. We were warmly greeted when we arrived by the housekeeper Bets and our PH Francois and ushered to the fire to continue quenching our thirst. There we met Fritz and Rita who were on the last night of their hunt and were celebrating a good week’s hunting. Sitting around the fire listening to Fritz tell of the trophies he had taken that week, really got the anticipation levels up. Sleep was not easy and the next day couldn’t come soon enough for me.
Saturday 8/7/10
Breakfast was for scheduled for 07.00, but I was up by 05.00 readying my gear in anticipation for the upcoming day. Watching the sun come up over the waterhole at 06.15 was the perfect way to start the first day of my Namibian hunt. After a big breakfast of Bacon and Eggs, we loaded up the truck to head for the range, to sight in our rifles. I had fitted a limbsaver recoil pad to my Steyr pro hunter 300 Win Mag and was looking forward to seeing (feeling) the results. The rifle was pretty brutal with the original recoil pad, so I was delighted to find that the new one really slowed it down and made it a pleasure to shoot. 3 shots off the bench and everyone was happy with the results. Steve had brought his Steyr Mannlicher Luxus in 7mm Rem Mag. He had some concerns over the QR scope mounts and a shifting zero, even without removing them. After firing off the best part of a box of ammo and a lot of fiddling we decided that it too, was good to go.
We agreed that Steve would have the first shot, as I had taken a Whitetail deer at his ranch in Texas, in December. With expectations high we set off at around 10.00 to see what we could find. Steve was hoping for a Gemsbok, Impala, Springbuck and a Warthog during the safari. The morning was uneventful, probably due to our late start, but the quantity of animals was impressive. What also became clear is that they were very much “wild” and took off as soon as they saw the vehicle. Every animal we saw looked like a trophy to us, but Francois kept saying too small, we can do better. We stalked a herd of gemsbok through the bush, but didn’t find a shooter bull amongst them. We returned for lunch at 12.00. After a couple of beers, we had our lunch and headed off to our rooms for a siesta.
15.00 and it was all aboard the truck again for our afternoon foray. At around 16.30 we saw a large solitary male Gemsbok out, on a fairly open plain. We were upwind of him with no real way of getting in any closer. It was decided to angle slowly downwind to see if we could get in close enough for a shot. We got to within about 180 mts and Steve was comfortable to take a crack at him. At the shot the Gemsbok staggered and set off only to collapse within 50mts. We slowly wandered over to him and there he was, our first animal of the hunt and what a beauty. An old bull with great horns and bases. What a way to start! Steve broke out the hip flask, for the first of what would become many more toasts! God, but that Irish Whiskey was rough! After the customary photo call we loaded it into the back of the truck using the winch. Steve said what an end to the day, but was quickly informed by Francois that we still had an hour left!!
We saw a couple of nice Kudu, but couldn’t get close enough for a shot in the dense thorn bushes. The smaller of the 2 was in a good position, for a shot, but Francois wanted the bigger one behind it, that never showed anything but his horns through the dense cover. Eventually they got tired of us and bolted away through the bush.
I then stalked a small herd of Gemsbok through the bush and we had a very brief chance of a shot at a nice bull from only about 70mts, but he spooked before I could set up on the sticks. That was it for the day and we headed back to base to start celebrating Steve’s Gemsbok, what a start to our hunt. After a few drinks and dinner it was off to bed to dream about the day we’d had and for me the day to come, for I was next on the gun. Steve had definitely set the bar pretty high, both in terms of trophy size and shooting prowess
Sunday 8/8/10
Another day dawned, with the sun chasing away the blanket of darkness as it rose above the hills, casting it’s warming rays over the waterhole next to the lodge. It doesn’t get any better that this! Breakfast at 06.30 and the banter had already started, the pressure was on, not to screw up. Nervous? you bet!! My list of “hope to” animals are primarily Kudu and Gemsbok, followed by Impala, Blue Wildebeest, Springbuck and Warthog (Pumba).
07.00 all aboard the truck and we head across the main road to the other half of the property, “Ozondjahe Wild”. This is an area with much denser bush than the main ranch and much more in the way of hills and ridges. We saw large herds of Impala and Blue Gnu, but they didn’t hang around to let us get acquainted! At around 09.00 we stopped the vehicle and Francois told us there was a waterhole up ahead and we would stalk into it on foot. This would be our most used technique, during the upcoming week. Fredrik stayed with the vehicle and the 3 of us and Stoffel (Francois’ faithful Jack Russell), set off down the track. There were game tracks everywhere and tension was mounting by the second. We slowed down as we got closer and quietly came to the edge of the bush bordering the waterhole. There was nothing to be seen and my heart rate slowed a notch. Francois took a couple of slow quiet steps to his left and set up the sticks and raised his binos. I stepped round behind him and there 100mts away were 3 nice Kudu bulls, side on to us with their heads down drinking! Adrenaline surged, my heart started pounding, my mouth went dry and I started shaking as I placed the rifle on the sticks. Francois breathed “ the one at the back, on the left looks good, but don’t do anything until he looks at us. I want to check him from the front”. Time stood still as I tried to calm and compose myself. Relax, breathe, yeah right, as I looked at the Kudu through the scope. Then slowly and majestically he raised his head and turned his huge spiral horns towards us. “take him” breathed Francois and I tried to settle the dancing cross hairs on his right shoulder (have I been holding my breath the whole time?!), finally I squeezed the shot off. Coming down from recoil, I saw the Bull spin around and clatter off into the bush with the other 2 bulls. I looked expectantly to Francois who said “good, good, good”, which we will later come to know means that we have done a good job. We started down towards the waterhole and in the bush 40mts from where I had shot him lies my Kudu. I tried to remain calm and composed, but right then and there I burst into the now legendary Kudu dance and song, often copied, but never equaled! He is huge, beautiful, perfect, what an animal, what a moment. My whole hunt was done there and then, total elation. Another photo call and 20,000 pictures later (Steve, are you sure you got that pic?!), we backed the truck in and loaded him up. We headed back to the ranch, to unload him and then set off again, but once there, we decided to stay and have a couple of celebratory beers instead. No point in rushing out straight way, better to have a couple of beers and practice the new song and dance routine!
15.00 after lunch and a siesta (who can sleep after a morning like that?!) we are once again on the truck heading back to Wild, for our afternoon session. Steve was first up with a shot at an Impala, but the result was a clean miss. The animal was in deep cover and he had tried shooting it from the sticks at the side of the track. The consensus was that the bullet must have taken a deflection off the brush, anyway, no harm no foul. We continued on our travels and came up to a waterhole in the middle of a fairly open plain. Amongst the Kudu cows, there was a good sized Gemsbok bull, which Francois said had my name on it. I took the shot from around 170mts. The gemsbok lurched and set off for the tree line 500mts away. Francois said “good”(but only once!) as we watched, it stumbled once before getting into the bush. We gave it 5 minutes then set off to look for blood, but not before Francois picked up his .375 and racked a round (never good when the PH readies his gun!)into the chamber. There was a good blood trail so we set off across the plain following. We were still 100mts from the tree line when Stoffel (who had set off in hot pursuit, as soon as he had found the blood trail) started barking and Francois said “He’s still alive”, my heart sank! About 150mts into the bush we found him still standing with his head down and Stoffel dancing around him barking. I could see the shot I had made, was pulled and through the back of his lungs. I shot him a second time and he went down. After the elation of the perfect morning hunt of my Kudu, I was a bit deflated at my poor shooting. That said I had killed another fine trophy, a big old bull with perfect markings. Loads of banter about who’s was bigger and we headed back to the ranch. With beers in hand we watched as Francois and Fredrik taped the horns. 33 and a half inch;” exactly the same as Steve’s! I would have to keep banging on about the Kudu instead!!!
Monday 8/9/10
The cold weather that had been promised had still not arrived, but Bets assured us it was coming!
07.00 we had assumed our positions on the truck and hopes were high as we set off looking for Steve’s Impala or Warthog. We had a couple of stalks after Impala, but they busted us every time. We came upon a big Ram in the middle of the road, that was still 300mts ahead us, but didn’t run away. We edged closer with the view of getting behind an anthill and Steve taking a shot from there, but as usual we were busted. Once we got up to where he had entered the bush, we could see other Impala moving around in the background. Steve got set up on the sticks, just as a couple of males came through a small gap in the cover. A quick whistle from Francois and the third one in line stopped for look. The Mannlicher barked and the Impala dropped like a stone, great shooting! We fought our way through the thorn bushes to find a magnificent Impala ram, laying where he had been shot. He had been quartering towards Steve and he shot him through the neck into the vitals. Another beautiful trophy, that had good bases and really long tips. The horns measured out at 25”. Once again Steve had kept the bar up high and I needed to redeem myself after my previous shooting! The really good news was that the Irish Whiskey had now been replaced by Zacapa Centenario 23 year Rum! Back to the ranch for beers, lunch and siesta (I could get used to this way of life!) before heading off to do battle in the afternoon.
15.00 we are in our usual places on the back of the truck. We were heading down the drive to cross over into Wild, when Francois clicked his fingers for Fredrik to stop the vehicle. He raised his binoculars and started looking at a black mound 150mts from the road. Warthog was the verdict and we got off the vehicle and started walking towards it. Once we got within about 50mts Francois set up the sticks and said “wait till he lifts his head, so we see his teeth”. I set up on him and waited for him to look at us. The grass was pretty long and only his back was visible. After the “you’re gonna die” whistle, he looked up and gave us a smile. “Take him” came the verdict from Francois. He was milling around, so it took a little time to get him lined up for the shot, but the 180 gr Oryx, forgot about the operator error of the previous day and buried itself in the Hog’s offside shoulder, dropping it on the spot. Oh deep bounteous joy, I didn’t screw up!!! Out came the flask and cameras, then we loaded him up on the truck.
After dropping it back to the skinners; we headed out for more. Confidence now restored, I was ready for anything! Blue Wildebeest were everywhere in herds from a couple to 50 strong. Lot’s of good animals, but I decide there is no point in rushing, as they are plentiful and we still have a few days left. It was a situation where, we really were in a position to pick and choose. We had a couple of great stalks on Impala, but never got close enough for a shot. Headed back to the ranch as the sun was setting behind the mountains. The temperature dropped very suddenly with the disappearance of the sun. Looks like Bets’ cold spell was arriving.
Tuesday 8/10/10
Another beautiful sunrise over the hills, but the cold front had arrived and it was now -2 degrees Celsius. After the habitual bacon and eggs and a couple of mugs of Java, we lurched out into the arctic morning, on top of the truck. Over the road we went to try our luck in Wild, once again. Hunkered down on the back of the truck, wearing every item of clothing we had brought with us, to try to ward off the cold, we started searching for Steve’s Warthog. Game was scarcer than it had been on the preceding days, so they were probably feeling the cold too! We drove to the edge of a large dried up waterhole and there in the middle was a very nice lone Blue Wildebeest bull, that pretty much just stood there and dared us to have a go. We still had 5 days of hunting ahead of us and had already decided that we were not going to rush into shooting a Wildebeest. BUT, he was a really good bull and after about 5 minutes of watching it through the binos, I said to Francois “what do you think?” His reply was not unexpected “I think you should shoot it!” Francois grabbed the sticks, I grabbed the faithful Steyr and we started out onto the pan, walking parallel to the Wildebeest. Steve got into cover on the edge of the pan and filmed as the hunt unfolded. The Wildebeest kept taking a couple of steps forward then a couple back, tossing it’s head, as he watched us walking across his front. We slowly angled ourselves to within about 120mts and Francois put up the sticks. I settled the rifle, as he looked straight at us. Francois said ”if you are comfortable with it, take him in the middle of the chest” Just as I was about to touch the shot off, it wheeled away and trotted off a few paces, then stopped broadside to us. The Steyr spoke and the Wildebeest took a solid hit in the shoulder. It managed to run about 40mts before nose diving into the hard packed earth, yes, time for another quick dance!!! We walked over to admire the beautiful trophy. What a great animal, the stalk across the open pan, followed by the clean shot made it perfect! The flask was most welcome on that freezing morning!
We headed back to the farm to deposit the animal with the skinners and decided to stay for another “long lunch” and siesta to fortify ourselves for the afternoon session. Steve’s Warthog remained elusive that day and we headed home at sunset, but as the sun fell so did the temperature and by the time we got back, we were frozen and swiftly gathered round the fire to get warmed up, internally and externally.
Wednesday 8/11/10
Today was going to be bird hunting day. Steve had decided he wanted to shoot some Sand Grouse, Doves and Guinea fowl. I have enough problems hitting a 200kg animal standing still, so declined to try to shoot anything the size of a Dove flying at Mach 1! First stop was a waterhole, where Francois and Steve started out terrorizing the local Dove population. Having fired 3 shots at the first Dove, before it fell out of the sky, Steve set off to collect it. Fredrik muttered “3 shots, 1 kill” to which I jokingly remarked, that Steve was the client and hunter and he should be more complimentary. Next time round it took only 2 shots to shake the Dove from the sky. Fredrik returned from collecting the bird and handed it to Steve “great shooting, sir” he observed, now that’s a quick learner!!
A dozen doves later and we were on the move again to another waterhole, to try to ambush the Sand Grouse as they came in. On the way we came across a flock of Guinea fowl and our intrepid white hunter went 4 for 4, so that was them in the bag. The Sand Grouse were not so easy and after a few shots, a few misses and a few non shots(remember to disengage the safety!) we had one solitary Grouse for our efforts. Still it was a fun morning and better than sitting on the truck in the freezing wind.
We set off in the afternoon looking for my Impala and Steve’s ever more elusive Hog, over in Wild. After various good stalks including almost getting run over by a female Impala being chased by a large male, we were still without an Impala. Right at last light we saw a couple of decent rams on the other side of a small valley, moving in and out of cover. It would have been a long shot and in the falling light, I wasn’t happy to take it, so we left it for another day and headed back, in the once again freezing gloom. It was Francois’ birthday so we had a couple of drinks round the fire and his wife Jackie and son joined us for dinner that evening. The Dove breasts made a great starter and Steve seems to have the recipe down to an art. We all retired to beds early as we were going to visit a different ranch the following day to try to get our Springbucks.
Thursday 8/12/10
At 07.00 we climbed into the Ranch mini bus, instead of the usual hunting Hilux, leaving behind our mascot Stoffel and driver Fredrik and headed out the gates towards Otjiwarongo town. About 15 minutes down the road we came to the gates of Ozonduhu, the game ranch where we were going to try to get our Springbuck. We met up with the owner, Jannie, who greeted us warmly and showed us to his hunting vehicle, a beautifully rigged Toyota, which we were going to use for the hunt. We set off with his driver and hunting dog (AKA Tripod) in search of Springbuck. Our first call was a waterhole, we stalked into. There were some Elephants on the property and as we stalked into the waterhole, following their huge footprints, Francois noted it was a bad time not to have brought his .375! We stalked in, but found no springbuck. A couple of Wildebeest came down to drink, but that was not what we were there for. We walked back to the vehicle and set off again, scanning the brush for sign of Springbok. Eventually we spotted a herd and drove on past them to get down wind. Steve was next shooter and he and Francois started stalking into the bush to close the gap. Down on all fours they finally got close enough for a shot, which after Steve managed to slow his breathing, he took resting his rifle on Francois’ shoulder. The driver, who had stayed back with me said miss, but both Steve and Francois decided it was impossible to miss from that range and we headed off to check for blood. There not 20 mts for where we found the blood spots, was the dead Springbok. Another fine old male taken right in the engine room, the bar had not shifted down an inch!! A quick photo call and the habitual pull from the flask and we were loaded up and heading back to the skinning shed, to drop off the beastie. After discussing the merits of me shooting the tame one that was wandering around close to the house, we were once again, out on the truck looking for Springbok. We saw a herd bound across the road in front of us, so we got down and tried to set up a stalk. They were long gone, so we decided to check out another waterhole. As we got close to the waterhole we saw a large male gemsbok lying down. When we got a little closer, it struggled to get up and we could see that it had a broken back leg. A call was made to the owner and we were asked to put the animal out of it’s misery. First we stalked to the edge of the waterhole, that was in the same area, to check for my Springbuck, but only saw a couple of females. Tripod then started barking, as she bayed the Oryx and we headed over to find her. We got to within 20mts of the animal, set up the sticks and finished him with a frontal brain shot. His rear leg was compound fractured below the hip, with both bones exposed. The pain it was in must have been terrible. Francois and the driver both agreed that the injury was caused by fighting with another male, probably the day before. We loaded him up and drove him back to the skinning shed. Time was moving on and the wind had started blowing, it was starting to look like I would not get my Bok. We saw plenty of game and some huge Sable, which were being reared to be sold on to other hunting outfits. They looked a bit incongruous out in the bush with red tags in their ears, a bit like cows in a field! After a lot more searching we came across another herd of Springbuck and after quite a bit of glassing decided that there was no male amongst them. We got a little closer and as the herd moved off, we saw a good male at the back of the herd. Up went the sticks, I settled the rifle on them and Francois gave a whistle. The Springbok obligingly stopped and looked towards us. I pulled the trigger, but without releasing the safety, not a lot happened! Once the safety was slipped off the 300 barked angrily and the Bok staggered at the impact and dropped. Damn I had this hunting thing nailed!! Pictures and the flask followed and that warm fuzzy feeling of a job well done enveloped us!
Back at the skinners, the second part of our days hunt began to unfold. We were going to head into Otjiwarongo to do a little shopping and sightseeing. We dropped the guns and animal capes at Francois’ brother in law’s place and headed into Otji to check out the bustling town. A quick visit to the gun/curio shop and we were getting thirsty. We headed into a fine establishment called C’est si bon and prepared for our afternoon Cougar hunt. Game was scarce, but the Hansa draught served in frosted mugs, more than made up for the endless hours of our fruitless hunt!
Friday 8/13/10
A little bleary eyed we mustered for breakfast, on what was to be our last day, as we had decided to head to Windhoek a day early, on Saturday. We still had an Impala for me and Steve’s elusive Warthog on the list. As we drove out we saw plenty of hogs, but none that met Francois’ standard. We came across a herd of Impala crossing the path ahead of us and eased up to them. A good male was just visible through the bushes and Francois said it was a shooter. Up went the sticks and I took a half crouching/half standing shot, beneath the thorn bushes, that stood between me and the Ram. The now infallible 300 barked again and the Impala spun round and collapsed. 09.20 mission accomplished, I had hoped to get 6 animals and had done so! You know what came next, pictures and flask, or maybe it was the other way round!
Now we had to get the bloody Warthog, for Steve. We continued driving around seeing various hogs, but none were good enough. We had a couple of good stalks and got to within 50mts of various hogs, but all were passed on due to size, broken teeth, etc. Francois opined that we should set up at a waterhole and see if we could nail one coming in to drink. A couple of hours in the blind and a couple of pigs came in to drink, but same old story. We saw some really big Oryx including one that would go over 39”. 12.30 came, so we headed back to the farm for a beer, lunch and a siesta.
At 15.00 we clambered back up onto the Hilux for our final session and our last crack at Steve’s hog. We set off from the camp along a route that we hadn’t traveled before and immediately saw Warthogs. One decent one, which we stalked for a while, but he vanished in the long grass. More hogs and more stalks, but the result was always the same. Francois once again suggested we try another waterhole, as that would probably be our best shot. While waiting for the Hogs, a bachelor herd of Eland came in to drink. They were truly huge and made the Gemsbok around them look small. There were a couple of real trophies amongst them, including a really old bull, with a heavy dewlap and I must admit I was more than a little tempted. That said, it just seemed like cheating, to shoot them from the blind and I’m glad I didn’t succumb to the temptation. The light began to fade and our hunt was over for the day and indeed the trip. But what a fantastic hunt it had been. I am now addicted and can’t wait to get back again and hopefully meet that herd of Eland out in the bush!!
For the record:
Cam
Kudu 53 and a half inch - SCI Gold Medal
Gemsbok 33 and a half inch - SCI Gold
Impala 23 inch - SCI Gold
Blue Wildebeest 55 inch - SCI Gold
Warthog 10 and a quarter inch - SCI Silver
Springbok 12 and a half inch - SCI Bronze
Steve
Gemsbok 33 and a half inch - SCI Gold Medal
Impala 25 inch - SCI Gold
Springbok 12 inch - SCI Bronze
Ozondjahe Hunting Safaris website: www.AfricanHuntingSafaris.com
For those of you who are still awake, thanks and good night!
Cam
and you must of had a great time!
