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- Namibia-Khomas Highlands, Romania, South Africa- Kalahari , Eastern Cape, USA, Fished Brazil, Mexico, USA
True hunting is an emotional rollercoaster. You are at the top of the world one minute and the lowest man can be the next. At this point I felt like Christmas was cancelled, someone took away my birthday (though the older I get the more I’m starting to feel this might not be such a bad thing), and someone kicked my dog all in one whack. Andri and Cabous did an amazing job of keeping my spirits up. They were both there when I needed them and gave me honest no bullshit assessments. Humor is a wonderful tool and both were quite liberal with the quantities of it. That helped me a lot. Another thing I would like to mention here is another person I'm proud and I hope I am able to call my friend that provided much need inspiration in an hour of need. I had been keeping up with Simon @TMS during the course of the whole hunt. As soon as we returned to the lodge that day during lunch I sent him messages updating him of the situation. After I stumbled back to my room that evening having to use Fred as a walking stick, though I’m not really sure who was more drunk me or the Blesbok, I had a message on WhatsApp from Simon. He asked me the location of our camp and told me he could be there the next day with some trackers to help look. What’s more he was dead serious! He has been up to his ass in crocodiles trying to get everything ready to head to Mozambique and was willing to drop everything and drive untold miles to help me out in an hour of need. I was floored. The kindness of this gesture was amazing to me. It spoke volumes of Simon’s character and the loyalty and fierce dedication of his friendship. This was a gesture I will not forget. @johnnyblues was also in the loop and provided more kind words of incouragment to keep me going as well. While I appreciated the offer beyond description Andri and Cabous had already phoned the cavalry and come morning we would have the owner of the property Marnus, some more ph’s, more trackers, and a helicopter. Through this entire event as well as this hunt Andri and Cabous went above and beyond the call of duty for me. They wanted that buff as bad as I did and were willing to do anything and everything possible to make it happen. We were at a point when I feel lesser ph’s would have given up and shrugged their shoulder but not Andri and Cabous, no these two were going to make it happen or die trying. I will forever be indebted to them for their hard work and steadfast dedication to me. Men of the caliber such as these are a rare commodity these days and despite the frustration of the situation they were a true inspiration to me. They kept me going through the foot sore miles and brought my spirits up giving me the drive needed to carry on. Pierre should get a huge thank you in this area also. At times I was a wreck and his encouragement played a huge role in keeping me focused and driven. Men like these are truly inspirational to be around and their good juju has an intoxicating effect that keeps one going through the lowest of lows.
I woke the next morning to a marching band playing in my head. I walked out of the cabin where Fred was quite obviously as hung over as I was. Fred was quite grouchy about the situation and I had the feeling he somehow blamed me for his alcohol problem and lack of self-control from the previous night. I managed to escape the pummeling Fred had waiting for me after doing the hundred yard dash to the main lodge with a highly upset tennis ball clad Blesbok on my heels. Unfortunately Fred was patient in his desire for revenge and spent the next several days plotting my demise and studying my patterns to set an ambush of swift justice. I told Cabous over breakfast that I felt Fred had an alcohol problem and deep seated anger issues. Perhaps some rehab or a counselor may just be the ticket to getting ol’ Fred back on the path of the straight and narrow. After breakfast we loaded up on the bakkie to go find a buffalo. I kept a watchful eye out for Fred as I walked to the truck but fortunately he had wandered off to bed down and sleep off his hangover. I felt in quite high spirits and confident. I had a good feeling things would work out. The helicopter and cavalry arrived and we set out to look for buff. The gyrocopter was quite a neat little job and had a closed cockpit. It was quick and agile. The pilot obviously knew how to operate it and within a matter of moments we were on buff. He spotted the main herd and as he followed them there was a buff trailing behind the main group trying to keep up. Adrenaline and hope shot through my veins and I thought to myself that had to be him. Cabous did some driving Mario Andretti would have been jealous of and Andri and I did our dead level best to hold on for dear life on top of the high rack as we set the tires a flame in hot pursuit to try and catch the heard. We made up the ground in a matter of moments and caught the herd standing in the open on a road. As we skidded to a halt everyone’s binos went up and we glassed in high hopes of seeing him. No luck, we glassed them for quite a long time. He wasn’t there. I tried to ask the herd where the fella with the limp was but they were in a pretty sour mood from the previous day’s shenanigans and the crazy loud bird and bakkie chasing them ruining their peaceful breakfast. On to the next ones. The plan was simple; the trucks would drive roads working at opposite ends towards each other in a horizontal pattern while the helicopter traveled over head in a vertical pattern. Ant time we found promising looking track a ph and some trackers would hop off and follow track as the rest of the group stuck to the patterns. It looked like an invading army skowering the bush. This continued until lunch when we had to release the helicopter. On the way to lunch we came up with a new plan. We were covering ground quite well but if the buff was still alive he would eventually have to come and drink. There happened to be a blind set up over the only water hole in the area. We would stick to the original plan but would place a group in the blind to watch the water at the same time. Trackers were dropped off in the blind with a handheld radio while we went to lunch.
After lunch Pierre and I gave the trackers relief. This pattern continued with alternating people on the water hole while the others looked and followed track for two days. Marnus set a trail cam up on the water to keep an eye out over night when no one was there. Eventually after no luck and no pictures a decision had to be made. We came to an agreement that Andri and our group would leave while Cabous and Marnus stayed and searched for the buff. We had lost several days of the safari and were now having to battle the calendar too. The kids and my wife, bless their hearts, had been either stuck in camp or on the back of a bakkie while this drama unfolded and despite their obvious boredom never once complained and was quick with the words of encouragement. I’m blessed that I have such a supportive family. I was assured by all that the buff was mine and whether alive or dead he would be collected and sent to me no matter it be the next day or the next year. Even as I write this they are still looking and giving me updates. The day we left Africa Andri flew all the way back up to the Kalahari to continue the search. How’s that for a dedicated team of professionals! I truly can’t say enough good things about Andri, Cabous, and all who were involved. Never have I seen dedication like that and it was an honor to have had the opportunity to hunt with such a professional group of guys. The general consensus is that the buff had succumbed to his wounds and died in under a bush somewhere in the middle of the Kalahari. He will be eventually found but it is going to take time. I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think of it. I feel terrible that he had to endure what he went through and I was unable to humanely end it and prevent unnecessary suffering. We watch the video at least seven times and meticulously studied it. We had the ability to watch it in real time as well as slow motion and frame by frame. The shot was very well placed, a solid hit, and free of any deflection. At forty yards zoomed in with Pierre’s incredible filming talent the video was extremely useful and high quality and instrumental in determining what had happened. You can actually see the bullet strike and where it strikes. I will post this as soon as Igala has finished with the video and I have it. The cause, complete bullet failure. The bullet must have fragmented upon impact. If they did on a thin skinned animal like a lion then the heavy frame and mass of a cape buffalo was too much for the fragile bullet to withstand. Plain and simple, DO NOT USE HORNADY DGX OR DGS AMMUNITION ON ANYTHING LARGER THAN A KUDU!!!!!! While I have been a huge advocate of Hornady for eons, these particular bullets are garbage and do not function as advertised.
Fred sober, quite the sweet respectable Blesbok
Unfortunately Fred can't handle his liquor and is quite cantankerous hung over.
More to come folks stay tuned, I gotta go to work
I woke the next morning to a marching band playing in my head. I walked out of the cabin where Fred was quite obviously as hung over as I was. Fred was quite grouchy about the situation and I had the feeling he somehow blamed me for his alcohol problem and lack of self-control from the previous night. I managed to escape the pummeling Fred had waiting for me after doing the hundred yard dash to the main lodge with a highly upset tennis ball clad Blesbok on my heels. Unfortunately Fred was patient in his desire for revenge and spent the next several days plotting my demise and studying my patterns to set an ambush of swift justice. I told Cabous over breakfast that I felt Fred had an alcohol problem and deep seated anger issues. Perhaps some rehab or a counselor may just be the ticket to getting ol’ Fred back on the path of the straight and narrow. After breakfast we loaded up on the bakkie to go find a buffalo. I kept a watchful eye out for Fred as I walked to the truck but fortunately he had wandered off to bed down and sleep off his hangover. I felt in quite high spirits and confident. I had a good feeling things would work out. The helicopter and cavalry arrived and we set out to look for buff. The gyrocopter was quite a neat little job and had a closed cockpit. It was quick and agile. The pilot obviously knew how to operate it and within a matter of moments we were on buff. He spotted the main herd and as he followed them there was a buff trailing behind the main group trying to keep up. Adrenaline and hope shot through my veins and I thought to myself that had to be him. Cabous did some driving Mario Andretti would have been jealous of and Andri and I did our dead level best to hold on for dear life on top of the high rack as we set the tires a flame in hot pursuit to try and catch the heard. We made up the ground in a matter of moments and caught the herd standing in the open on a road. As we skidded to a halt everyone’s binos went up and we glassed in high hopes of seeing him. No luck, we glassed them for quite a long time. He wasn’t there. I tried to ask the herd where the fella with the limp was but they were in a pretty sour mood from the previous day’s shenanigans and the crazy loud bird and bakkie chasing them ruining their peaceful breakfast. On to the next ones. The plan was simple; the trucks would drive roads working at opposite ends towards each other in a horizontal pattern while the helicopter traveled over head in a vertical pattern. Ant time we found promising looking track a ph and some trackers would hop off and follow track as the rest of the group stuck to the patterns. It looked like an invading army skowering the bush. This continued until lunch when we had to release the helicopter. On the way to lunch we came up with a new plan. We were covering ground quite well but if the buff was still alive he would eventually have to come and drink. There happened to be a blind set up over the only water hole in the area. We would stick to the original plan but would place a group in the blind to watch the water at the same time. Trackers were dropped off in the blind with a handheld radio while we went to lunch.
Fred sober, quite the sweet respectable Blesbok
More to come folks stay tuned, I gotta go to work
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