Wildebeest Tough Old Antelope

Thursday 23 August 2012.   I have shifted hunting locations to Otjinuke Hunting Ranch, http://www.huntnamibia.net/index.php in Namibia.  It is 1 1/2 hours drive distance south and west of the capitol Windhoek.  The area is not as mountainous as at Farm Garib but there is lots of game to be seen even from the road while riding in the car.  Our driver is Marina Muller, Ph.D. in statistics at the National University, and wife to our hunting guide host Gert Muller. Marina is fun and tells us lots about the country, the area, the hunting, and generally is very entertaining on our trip.  Our P.H. is a younger fellow named Berger.  I ask if his first name is Berger or his last name is Berger.  He says just Berger.  I call him Berger.

My pal, Ken, hunts the first day at Otjinuke and bags a nice impala ram.  Then it is my turn and I am on the look out for a blue wildebeest or zebra.  We spot a group of blue wildebeest in some trees about 300 yards from a dirt road.  We glass them for 30 minutes or so and I think none of them look like mature trophies.  {My other P.H. Sigi Hess at Farm Garib has taught me what to look for in a trophy animal.} I keep glassing in case other blues come out of the backdrop tree line to meet up with the group.

Berger says "Look at that bull on the right, he looks pretty good."  I answer that the animal doesn't even have the horns as wide as his ears and the tell-tale blue coloring of a mature bull is not visible.  Berger agrees and says "We can find a better one."  We continue to travel to the southeast always watching for blue wildebeest or zebra.

There are giraffe all over the place.  Marina Muller had told me they were her pets and she didn't want anyone to hunt them.  I have no interest in shooting one but the opportunity to photograph giraffe is amazing.  This is the first time I have been this close to a giraffe in the wild.  The babies are taller than me.  The giraffe move with big long legs and seem to walk briskly away from us.  Their legs are so long there is no way I could keep up with one even running as fast as I could.  They can cover over 10 yards with one step!  I take lots of photos as does my pal, Ken.  Ken is a really good photographer and I am glad he can record our adventure via the camera.

We continue hunting and Berger spots some blue wildebeest in some trees resting in the shade.  I glass with him and we both see a pretty nice bull at the same time.  I say let's see if we can get close enough for a shot.  Berger and I walk in single file keeping behind a termite mound directly at the group of wildebeest.  We always make sure the termite mount, which is about 6 feet high and 4 feet wide, is between the animals and us.  A soft wind is blowing from our right to the left so wind is not a concern for now.  We have to walk about 250 yards from the dirt road where we came in to the area.  I am so anxious the wildebeest will see us or the wind will shift and we will be busted.  We walk low and slow trying to stay hidden behind the termite mound.  We get to the termite mound and I sneak a lazer range on the bull we are after -- 162 yards.  It is a doable shot.  I turn my scope up to 9X or so and ease my rifle over the top left side of the termite mound.  I can stand at the base of the mound and use it for a rest and to stay hidden.  No need for the shooting sticks when I am 6'6" and edge of the termite mound is about 5'6" where I am resting my rifle.  The big old bull has seen us I think as he turns to look directly at us.  We are in a staring contest.  I want a broadside shot.  My .338 Win. Mag. with 225 gr. Barnes tipped triple-shock bullets does it best work on broadside targets.  We stare at each other for what seems to be a long time, maybe 3 - 4 minutes.  I am looking through my scope, the wildebeest is looking through his natural 6X eyeballs, and Berger is crouched down behind the termite mound with his fingers in his ears watching both of us.  I pick a spot and put the crosshairs on the wildebeest's chest between his front legs.  I think the shot will take out the heart and at least one lung.  I ease up on the trigger and wait for him to turn.  Some of other wildebeests are getting up and looking to move to the northeast deeper into the dense trees.  I figure it is now or never so I press the trigger and boom the rifle goes off.

The wildebeest does a 180º turn and starts to jog away.  I work the bolt and take another shot at the "Texas heart shot" location.  I have hit my target both times but the beast won't go down.  He angles off the the right walking briskly, southeast, and I rack in another round.  I shoot again and miss.  I manipulate the bolt and prepare to fire another time.  I can't believe this guy, he has 450 grains of copper at 2,700 feet per second in his vitals and is still on his feet.  I take aim and shoot again hitting him in the chest area.  Blood is visible on his blue hide in the sun.  I reload my rifle from my belt loop carrier.  The wildebeest walks slowly about 60 more yards to the southeast and then falls over.  We give him a 3 - 4 minutes to bleed out watching closely all the time with my safety off and the rifle at the ready position.  I am impressed to the max how tough the animals are here in Namibia.  When he lowers his head we walk to within 15 yards of him and he lifts his head up.  What the crap?  He has 675 grains of triple shock copper in his vitals and is still able to raise his head.  Berger offers to go cut his throat and I say no if it has to be done let me do it.  Then I flick off the safety and take careful aim at the neck region just behind where the head and neck join.  I fire and the animal is gone.  I can't believe he took four .338 Win. Mag. shots to be finished.

We take photos and I am so glad to have met this tough old guy.  I appreciate so much his toughness and beauty.  I will have the hide tanned and I will remember this hunt for years.  The locals will really enjoy the meat from this tasty animal so nothing will go to waste.  Overall a resource has been used, there is an inflow of cash to the local economy, people are fed, and I am going home with a trophy and a great experience.

JACKALS ARE CHEEKY BUGGERS

Tuesday 21 august 2012  Farm Garib, Namibia, Africa

Up at 6:00 a.m. Breakfast of 5-lbs. bread, cumquat marmalade and off to hunt.  It is my turn first to hunt and I am looking for a 40 inch oryx.

40" oryx cow

three young kudu bulls

Sigi Hess, the P.H., told me the oryx I had already harvested was about as big a  bull gets around that particular hunting concession.  I asked if it would be OK for me to take a cow to harvest a trophy of more horn length.   Sigi  agreed to take a cow if she is without calf, old, and skinny.  Sounds like my type of girl, I told him.  We found a group of three oryx cows that filled the requirements of being old, without a calf, and skinny up on a hillside of Look-Out-Mountain.  We watched them from the base of the mountain for about 10 minutes.  I could have fired from near the truck at any time for a kill shot, they were less than 350 yards away.  Sigi didn't want to shoot from the truck area as the animals get "truck shy" and run away when they see a truck coming. We all drove away around the base of the mountain to the east and tried for a stalk on foot.  We were quiet and slow.  As we neared the area where the oryx were holding I told Sigi to go up over the top of a small saddle and come down on the oryx girls from above as the wind was bad for blowing our scent toward the oryx otherwise.  He said let's try the sidehill approach and we did as he, the P.H. had suggested.  In our final stalk we rounded a ravine and three juvenile kudu bulls busted us.  The kudu took off away from us at light speed to the northeast for about 2 - 3 kilometers.  The old oryx girls followed and headed for Botswana in the kudu vapor trail.  A small herd of hartebeest stood up a kilometer away below us to the southwest and readied to run. We had definitely made an impression on all the animals for a long way around the saddle and the mountain.

We walked another 1.5 kilometers toward the northeast always watching to
see if any oryx doubled back, alas no.  Hans Peter Luhl was there at a cross road in the truck to pick us up.  I was tired, hot, and thirsty from the stalk.
After mounting the truck and traveling a short distance a jackal ran across the road in front of us from left to right.  Hans Peter stopped the truck with the appropriate knock on the roof from us riding in the back.  I had the best shot so I stood up and took aim when the jackal had turned to sneer at us.  He was a mangie beast with some type of disease.  I shot him at about 55 yards with a .338 Win. Mag.  Needless to say -- he more or less exploded when hit by 4,000 pounds of kinetic energy.  We took some photos but didn't touch him out of respect for the disease he carried.  As we drove off in the truck someone asked "Wasn't that shot left handed?"  I said, "Sure, I practice that all the time."  We all had a good laugh.

Location:  South  23º05.802  East  017º41.502  elevation 4,756 feet

ORYX STEAKS !

SUNDAY August 19, 2012  Namibia, Africa

This is actually my first day of the hunt.  I have been traveling for what seems like forever to get here. I had left Santa Clara for Africa on Thursday August 16th and finally, 3 days later, I am here in the veld.  It is so great to be back at Farm Garib with the Luhl Family.  Our relationship is more than just hunting guides and a client, these fine people from the other side of the planet are good friends.  When I arrived yesterday afternoon it was wonderful to see again Frauke, Hans Peter, Jule, and meet Sigi, Jule's husband, for the first time.  I have traveled over 8 time zones and maybe 10,000 miles to this red sand desert and yet feel right at home here.

7:00 a.m. we are off to check the zero on our rifles at the family shooting range about 3 kilometers from the house.  Everything seems to be OK after about three shots each at a target in the firearms department so we are off looking for quality game to hunt.

Ken is first up and he really wants to get a Kudu this trip.  We drive on the farm roads and look all around for some time, maybe 3 - 4 hours.  We stop and glass from atop several hills for kilometers in 360º fashion for just the right kudu bull.  While driving around on the southeast end of the farm the trackers notice a large kudu bull laying under an acacia tree.  The natural camouflage of the kudu makes him hard to spot.  Hans Peter and I stay in the truck and the others get down to try a stalk.  We drive the truck about 1.5 kilometers away and turn off the motor.  While waiting we watch a watering hole about 500 yards to the west.  A lone warthog comes in for a drink.  He was rather small and we just enjoy the morning air, the birds, the big sky, and the warthog.  After 15 minutes or so we hear a shot, then a couple of more shots.  I think Ken has something going on.  Hans Peter and I wait and look toward where the shots sounded. A tracker named Frans comes out of the heavy brush to the road where we had come in and waves us over.  We start the truck and drive to the Frans' waving spot and follow the tracker on a semi-cleared path to where Ken has his kudu bull down.  It is a big nice bull and really old.  He measures 53" and is aged to be around 15 years old.  Some of his teeth are worn out completely.  A great trophy.  Ken will post more on his own for this hunt.  We take photos, gut the animal in the wild {something I've never seen done in Africa}, and take the beast back to the farm house to cool the meat.  Kudu meat is excellent by the way.

It is lunch time and  we dine on oryx backstrap, boiled potatoes, gravy, and fresh green salad.  Maybe one of the reasons I like this place is the food is always delicious.  After lunch we have a short nap and wake up to gooseberry tort, biltong, and coffee or diet coke at 2:30 p.m.  Then we are out to hunt for my turn.  I am looking for a trophy oryx or warthog.

We drive to the north end of the farm for 20 minutes or so and then start to scan for oryx.  There are some rugged foothills around and my son had taken a large kudu in the same area in 2010.  Sigi is telling us stories about the hunt and various hunters he has guided.  He is really a character and so entertaining.  We were seeing lots of oryx but no trophy caliber ones.  Oryx are in groups of 3 to 6 members and when we would put glass on them they are just not that big, reasonable but not BIG.  As we drive to the west on a farm road I spot a lone oryx on the hillside to the north.  He seems really big to me.  Maybe he seems big because he is all by himself and there are no other oryx to compare him to?  I tell Sigi to check him out.  Sigi signals to stop the truck.  I ask "Is that a big one?"  Sigi says, "Yes, that is about as big as they get around here."  I ask if I can shoot from the truck or near the truck.  My heart condition is limiting me from doing a lot of hiking.  Sigi says there are no other oryx around and given that I have a bad heart he can "close one eye for now."  Sigi really doesn't like to shoot from around the truck as the animals get truck shy and scatter when they see the truck coming.  I completely understand and that is why I had asked permission.

I laser range the oryx at 208 yards and Sigi says there is a branch in the way at the oryx's heart line.  I should aim abit high.  I take careful aim on the oryx standing broadside sighting straight up the his left front leg to about 8" into the chest cavity and flip off the safety.  I place my finger on the trigger and hold my breath.  My heart is pounding, even more that usual.  I am surprised when the rifle goes off and the unmistakable sound of "plop" is heard by all as the bullet finds its mark on the oryx.  I watch through the scope and chamber another round.  The oryx takes about two steps up the hill and falls over.  I am so excited.  We give the old bull some time to expire and then hike over to the hillside to check him out.  My .338 Win. Mag. 225 gr. Barnes tipped triple shock bullet had entered his chest cavity just about exactly where I was aiming.  I can see the bullet under the skin on the far side of the oryx, it is still in there.  We do the Vikeman's Hiel ritual and I give the oryx his last bite.  I am grateful for the oryx and the many circumstances that have brought me back to Africa again.  I feel so blessed to be able physically to get out and do financially do what I am doing.

            Location:  South 21º04.456'  East 17º43.775' elevation 4,760

We all 5 load the oryx into the truck and take him back to the processing area on Farm.  I have the oryx weighed and he is 338.5 kgs. or about 498 pounds.  I think he will measure around 37" of horn.  I am way pleased.

This has been a good day.

African Review

Monday August 27, 2012 in Namibia, Africa

We are up at 6:10 a.m. and have a breakfast of rusk, yogurt, banana, and homemade donuts.  {The cook is trying to show off with donuts and it is working!}

We are out to hunt at 7:00 a.m. We see many animals mostly black wildebeest and springbok.  Finally around 9:00 a.m. we see a group of 15 or so zebra.  They are Burchell {Equus Burchelli} or plains zebra native to the Kalahari desert and a fine stallion zebra is in the group.  We go on the stock.  Stalking are Loki, the assistant guide, Berger the P.H., and myself.  We have been looking for a zebra for three days and have a) not been able to get close enough for a shot while stocking or b) there hasn't been a mature stallion in the groups we have found.  We follow the zebra herd on foot and try to get ahead of the wind and the herd for about 1.5 kilometers.  Finally, we are in position as the zebra are crossing a small clearing maybe 50 yards wide and I take one .338 Win. Mag. shot off the sticks at a lazered 92 yards.  I hear the Barnes 225 grain triple shock bullet impact the beast but the P.H. says maybe I had missed the shot.  I know it was a hit and I don't argue; we just walk toward where the zebra had been standing and look for blood.  We find lots of blood and some lung tissue in the grass.  My hunting pal Ken, and the tracker, Andres, heard the shot and drive up in the pickup truck within a few minutes.  The P.H. takes a smoke break and waits for the hit zebra to settle down or expire.  Ken tells me he has seen lung tissue before both from animals and from men in the Vietnam war.  None of them survived very long after a hit to the lungs.  Ken wagers we will find the zebra within 100 to 200 yards of the original shooting location.  Loki starts tracking on the blood spore, we all fall in behind and try to keep quiet.  We track teh blood trail a short distance and indeed we find the zebra lying dead in some brush within 200 yards of the place he was shot.  He is balled up in some 7 foot tall brush/trees on an escape trail that the herd had taken when startled at the sound of my shot. 

We take lots of photos with the animal and I get a GPS mark for my records. 

          GPS:  South 21º37.591  East 17º10.063 elevation 4,924 feet 

It takes all four of us to load the zebra into the back of the pickup truck.  The zebra is really heavy, like 800 pounds or so.  The locals eat the tasty meat and I want the tanned hide for a trophy.  Nothing will go to waste from this fine old animal.  We head back to the farm house in the truck and it is really great to have finally scored a success on a zebra.