Day 5 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Saturday April 13, 2019

When asked last night what time for breakfast “7 something?” I replied 7:59.  I was up at 7:20 and went over to talk with Frauke on the side patio behind the kitchen. She has been nice to me for over 12 years.  I appreciate her as a fine person and a dear friend.  She is a hard working ranch/farm wife, mother, and grandmother.  She is coping with the loss of her husband Hans Peter of 40+ years just a short time ago.  Peter was a special friend to me and I deeply miss him.  I can't imagine her loss.

Frauke told me today Jule was born in the same house where I am staying.  Frauke’s children are: Frita, Jule, Heinrick, and Phillip.  A black worker, a cook, was the mid-wife delivering person for Jule.  Frauke said it was a stormy night when Jule was born and it was too far and too risky to go to the hospital.  She had her baby on the farm.  Her father-in-law sat up waiting for the birth to be complete with a bottle of champagne and a paper to write down the moment the baby cried. -- everyone was so involved with the birth he drank all the champagne alone in his night shirt and fell asleep.

I have a significantly infected toe on my left foot.  Pretty bad.  Swollen and the skin is coming off the top of it.  Dax is concerned and said I should go to the doctor here.  I should get on anti-biotics.  I said I didn’t want to go to the clinic here because of the multitude of strange-exotic and potent germs that were there at the clinic.  I would have no resistance to them being a gringo.  I think Dax told everyone about the infection and Jim Sorensen brought out some antibiotics he had brought with him.  They were purchased in Mexico but I took them 3 times a day for the rest of the trip.  Sigi brought me some anti-inflammatory medicine and I took it twice a day.  I sent an email message to the Supreme Commander back home to get me an appointment with my regular doctor for the day after I came home.  She did.  Frauke brought me the farm's traditional foot-soaking tub and some special “green soap” and I soaked my infected foot in hot water with the green soap twice or three times a day.  It made it feel better for a few minutes.

Grossest photo of the trip

On the hunt:  Sigi left off Tobis and I with some chairs to watch for game coming into a drinking pond.  I was not up to walking much with my sore toe.  We watched as a momma warthog came to drink and wallow with her 4 babies.  It was cute.  She did not see us nor smell us.  A big eagle came to drink and it was beautiful to watch nature live.  A juvenile warthog male came in and saw us after wallowing and drinking some.  He took off so momma warthog did too.  The babies kept saying, “Why do we have to leave -- we were just starting to have fun?”  Eventually Sigi came to pick us up in the truck.  We headed back to the farm house for lunch.  They had not seen any shootable game either.  Lots of blame is on the helicopter that is constantly trespassing in Farm Garib air space.

Lunch was hamburger patties (beef), brown gravy, boiled new potatoes, tossed salad, baked squash, some kind of and onion-cabbage slaw?  Desert was pistachio pudding.  After lunch we had nap time.  I soaked my foot again before dozing off.

Drinks at 4 p.m. on the main patio.  Everyone on the back patio started buying Frita’s jewelry that was on display in a locked case in the dining room.  Several hundred dollars were spent by the hunters.

Sigi, Dax, William and I went to Joe Luhl’s place. We saw a warthog at distance and Dax took a shot at a jackal without luck.  Finally some rain started and we head back at dusk.

Joe Luhl home So. 23º06.264’  E 17º45.115’  elevation 4,718

Day 6 of the Namibia 2019 Hunt

Sunday April 15, 2019

Up at 6:15 a.m. breakfast as usual - German snacks cold cuts, cheeses, extra delicious bread, jam.

Out to hunt -- Dax and Sigi end up with a blue wildebeest to track and shoot.  I stay with William and kind of guard the truck.  My foot has me limited in how much I can get around.  I see various female warthogs with young ones in the field I am looking out over.  They don’t see me and it is kind of fun to watch them look for eatables as a group.  William hears Dax’s shot and we load up to go to them in the truck.  We figure there is something down.  (I am also kind-of deaf due to my age and shooting so much without ear protection for 30+ years.) We find Dax and Sigi and they lead us to the beast.  It is a pretty good one.  We take photos and load it up with the winch.  We take the animal back for processing and for our lunch.

Lunch is chicken thighs and legs stewed with veggies and served in a clear sauce over spirelli pasta.  I eat the tossed salad and the noodles but am not hungry enough to eat the chicken.  Fresh cut up fruit with custard is dessert.  The fruit tastes so refreshing.  Way good!

After lunch break at 3:30 p.m. Frauke takes me on foot to see Hans Peter’s grave.  It is a beautiful place for him over looking the farm to the west.  His parents and his sister are also buried in the family plot.  I told Frauke I deeply believe in Jesus Christ and the resurrection and eternal nature of one’s soul.  I believe in families forever.  She is a way strong woman and sincere friend.  I want her to be OK.  It is hard to do as she has done all her life.  She is a quality person and an example to so many black and whites of what to be.  She also assured me of her testimony of the resurrection and the eternal nature of  one’s soul.

After our visit to the grave site Frauke took the little boys to Windhoek and left at 4:30 p.m.  I said goodbye to them and wished them safe journey.  Out to hunt again without luck.  I shot at a jackal at 400 yards and shot too high.  I was offered a shot at a blue wildebeest at 518 yards and I declined as it was too far.  It started to rain so we all piled into the truck cab and headed back to the farm house.

Everyone is worn out and off to bed at 9:45 p.m. snoring soon after. . . .

CHIZZLERS . . . what chizzlers ? ? ?

I really think we were short-cut to not get to hunt chizzlers this spring.  I look forward to hunting profit eaters all year and when the snow starts to melt on Pine Valley mountain in Feb. or so I get all excited to go wreak mass destruction on the chizzlers up in Iron County.  Crap-O-Rama, this year there were no chizzlers to wreak on!  What am I suppose to do with all my pent up wreaking mass destruction frustrations?  I want to empty out a significant amount of rim fire ammo and pile up little vermin bodies.

 

I went hunting with Bounty Hunter 6 3 - 4 times this spring and we shot some chizzlers but it was truly slim pickens.  Where we would get 300 a day each other years we got only 30 a day this year.  We were in the same fields, using the same rifles, with the same ammo.  Where did all the critters go?

 

 

Heaven forbid the farmers in Iron County will actually make a profit this year due to the significantly reduced numbers of vermin eating their products in the field. I always thought agriculture was a calling in life and those who were so called had to endure ill weather, hardships, and low -- if any earnings.  This year the weather has been wet for growth, the diminished numbers of chizzlers have taken very few profits from the agriculturalists, and there is a possibility the farms might even make some money.  What the HECK?

Day 4 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Friday April 12, 2019

Up at 5 a.m. to head to hunt on Reiner’s place.  It is about 40 miles away, I think, and about a 1.5 hour drive.  We are after black wildebeest, warthog, baboon, and whatever?

Dax and Sigi see a black wildebeest and head out on foot once we arrive at the other farm.  About 45 minutes later we heard a shot.  Dax got one!

So. 22º40.210  E 17º27.562’  elevation 5,712

We hike over and see the animal.  It is a nice one.  We take photos and then load it in the truck.  We drive to the main house and processing shed to handle the animal. 

Black wildebeest are called the clowns of the veldt.  They run away from the hunter when spooked then if the hunter stays put and very still they come back running to see if you are really a hunter.  Dax had a textbook hunt on these clowns -- he waited patiently and they came back.  He made a good shot and took one for a trophy.  ?Crazy?

We go to eat a field lunch near a man made pond 3-4 kilometers from Reiner‘s house.  Sigi and the trackers build a small fire and cook some sausages.  We have pre-made sandwiches on delicious bread.  The sandwich filling is cream cheese, ham, pickles, cheddar cheese.  They are pretty good but I am not into pickles.  I say nothing and eat it anyway as I am hungry.  We sit around in the shade after we eat waiting for the medio-dia to pass.  As we talk, eat, and laugh a warthog comes out of the veldt and starts to drink across the pond from us.  We were talking loud and laughing but he came anyway.  After his drink he wallows a bit in the mud and plays around in plain sight.  Ben Sorensen grabs the guide's rifle, a suppressed .30-06, and sits down to shoot at the wart hog.  The hog is about 145 yards away and Ben nails him with one shot.  We go over and take photos and then haul him back to our lunch camp.  The trackers start the skinning process by hanging him from his hocks in a tree.

So. 22º40.979' E 17º27.500' elevation 5,815

 We continue to laugh and talk about how dumb the warthog was. In about 10 minutes some baboons climb the trees on the opposite side of the pond from us and start to howl at us.  They are trying to tell us to get lost as it is their water spot I assume.  They make a lot of noise.  Sigi says “Craig shoot one of those baboons”.  I can see 2 of them across the pond and up on a hill in a taller tree.  I laser them at 388 yards.  Jim Sorensen starts to make book on my shot.  He says I can’t make the shot.  Sigi says I can and so people put up bets.  I am the whole time trying to get steady on my bi-pod and calculate in my head how far to hold over at the distance, maybe 24”.  I also feel a wind from left to right so I figure to hold 2-3 inches to the left.  I take my time as the baboons continue all the time howling at us.  I gently squeeze the trigger and the .338 Win Mag goes boom.  The baboon falls from the tree.  I am about as surprised as the baboon was.  The group of lunching hunters erupts in raucous laughter.  Sigi collects the bets and offers me ½ of the cash,   I say “no thanks it is blood money.”  Again there are a lot of laughs.  Sigi pockets the cash.  Jim later tells me a few times, “that was the shot of the hunt“.  Days later the "shot” is still talked about at meals in the evening.  I am glad I got lucky.

We travel around Reiner’s farm kind of all over, again.  We spot a large kudu bull and we call on the cel phone to the other hunters giving them the location.  They hurry over and Ben and Jorn make a stalk that ends with a nice kudu trophy being taken.  We are looking for a black wildebeest for me.  We only find females and calves all afternoon.  Just at sundown we spot a group of several black wildebeest.  Sigi, Dax, and I make a quick 2 kilometer stalk across a wide valley toward the animals.  We have to keep the brush between them and us so as not to spook them.  The wind is right and they move little as we close the distance.  We finally catch up as the sun goes behind the mountain to the west.  It is dim out, but I turn on my Leupold VXR red dot scope reticle and I am ready.  An average sized bull kind of wonders toward the hill to our south grazing and I have a good broadside shot at 155 yards.  On the sticks, I bring the rifle up, take aim, put the illuminated red dot just over the point where the front leg joins into the chest cavity (the heart) and squeeze the trigger.  The rifle report seems really loud and the group of wildebeest take off on the full run.  The fellow I shot staggers about 5 yards and drops over DRT.

So. 22º42.361' E17º27.562' elevation 5,712

 We congratulate each other and take some photos.  Sigi heads back to get the truck.  Dax and I stay with the downed critter.  It is officially dark now.  Dax takes his flash light out and puts it on top of the shooting sticks for a sentinel.   In about 15 minutes we hear the truck coming through the veldt brush.  Sigi and William have to make a slight detour because of a drainage in the path to where the beast lies.  We load him up and head back to the processing barns.

At the processing barns we hang the black wildebeest up by the hocks and William starts the skinning procedure.  It has been a very long day.  No complaint from William he is glad for the work.  Helmut, Reiners’ dad, comes out with a beer in his hand.  He offers excessively one to Sigi, Dax and me.  Only Sigi accepts.  I met him before and I think he is a great guy.  He wears Wrangler pants from the USA.  He is about 6’7” and it is unusual for me to talk up to someone.  He says he is 67 years old.  We have a nice conversation while William does his work.  

Finally we load up and head back to Farm Garib.  When we arrive the food is ready for dinner -- fettuccini, meat sauce, tossed salad, great breads and cheeses.  I add a dash of Tabasco for extra flavor perfection.  Ken is already in bed, kind of dissatisfied I think -- not enough attention syndrome plus way too much hiking/walking.

I have a very sore knee, the start of a staph infection in my left middle toe and I am old and worn out.  THIS IS STILL . . . . . . .REALLY REALLY FUN!