So cool! Great videos and pics to help tell the story. Very well done congrats!
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Amazing!!!Comment
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Great write up and super vids.........I hope the book and full video is available soon. Nice work Erin and DaneComment
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June 19th, I woke up with some sadness and a sense of panic from the fact that we only had 4 days left on the trip of a lifetime. It wasn’t that we hadn’t collected every trophy we wanted, I didn’t want the hunt to end. I didn’t want to go back to Houston, drive downtown every morning and sit at a desk all day. Africa felt like a place I belong, the place I want to raise a family. Listening to Harry talk about his childhood, hunting warthogs and springbok with his brother, is something that I’m afraid my son won’t be able to experience. Sure, there will be trips to deer leases and elk hunts in the mountains of Colorado, but it’s just not the same.
We sat that morning, saw 3 tsessebe and a bunch of wildebeest but it was windy and slow. On our way in, we saw a big kudu bull with some cows several hundred yards away. They weren’t far from the water hole we were sitting at, but for whatever reason didn’t come to water while we were there. For the evening sit, the wind died down and the temperature started to rise, something we had been anticipating for a week! A nice young kudu bull arrived but was unsure about the alfalfa we had put out. He skirted the area and browsed on the trees. We saw two or three other bulls making their way towards the stand, and they seemed to be chasing a cow. Unfortunately, we had a big herd of wildebeest show up at dusk when I figured the kudu would finally make their way in.
It was in that blind that Harry told me the story of how African Arrows got started in 2005. His father Coen owned the 17,000 acres on which the lodge was to be built, and 21 year old Harry told his dad he wanted to start a hunting operation but would need a lodge. Coen told his son that if he could find 10 hunters to come in the first year, he would build a lodge. Harry agreed, and off to the U.S. he went in search of his hunters. There was a hunting show in Reno, NV so Harry called the organizer and asked if he could attend one of the dinners. After initially turning him down saying he needed to buy a booth, Harry convinced the man that he needed a break. It worked, and Harry found his way into a dinner full of hunters who had the desire and money to book a hunt in South Africa. Suddenly he found himself standing in the corner of a room alone, not knowing a soul.
He eventually met a local couple who, as Harry put it, “fell in love with this lost South African boy”. They invited him to a dinner later that week with friends who were also interested in going on a safari. Harry gave his presentation with no brochures, no pictures of successful safaris. He had a sheet of paper with pricing on it, the gift of eloquence and his very apparent passion for hunting. He promised these people that he would build a comfortable lodge and all the necessary bow blinds by the time they arrived. After hearing reluctance from one of the wives, Harry agreed to send status updates and pictures and left that dinner with 4 couples, 8 hunters giving their word that they would come hunt with him. After finding another two hunters later that week, Harry headed home and informed his dad that he had his 10 hunters. Coen asked him where the deposits were, and Harry said he hadn’t taken any deposits but the people shook his hand and gave him their word. Good enough!
Harry and his brother Brandt immediately got to work designing and building the lodge around a small stone house built by the previous landowner in 1972. He brought every stone in that house from a mountain 13 miles away by mule and cart! They built 4 bedrooms around this structure and incorporated some unique designs I mentioned earlier, including ironwood trees coming out of the walls, thatch rooftops over the bathroom, recessed baths and outdoor showers. The campfire and bar area are exactly how you would dream it up, it is unlike any hunting camp I’ve ever been to.
Harry built hides around waterholes throughout the ranch, and by the time the hunters arrived 3 months later, the paint was still drying in the bedrooms. They had a fantastic safari that went off without a hitch, but as soon as they left a pipe burst in one of the rooms and flooded the whole thing. It didn’t bother Harry, he had the start he needed.
The next morning Spencer and I woke up earlier than usual at our PH’s request. We were going to a property Harry has leased, but it’s an hour and a half from the lodge. The targets for both of us were kudu and eland. After dropping Spencer and Garry off at an incredible elevated stand which had indoor plumbing, a bed and was arguably nicer than my first apartment, we made our way to a stucco ground blind next to a water hole. A few minutes after getting set up, a kudu cow stalked into the area but she was very nervous. She slowly made her way downwind of the blind, and behind her was a stud kudu bull in prime condition. Harry guessed him at 52”. This cow paced back and forth for an hour behind us, finally deciding it was okay to come in. Two other bulls joined the group, along with a lone eland bull with a beautiful black face. Unfortunately he was a couple years away from his prime. A pair of giraffes came in to water, quite a sight. When they left, a herd of zebra came in to water. I couldn’t believe my luck, having seen zebra twice in 7 days.
Shortly afterward, I heard the familiar clicking of eland hooves. Two huge bulls cautiously approached, and we studied both. Harry told me to shoot the bull with the bigger tuft and longer horns, so I prepared for the shot. At 30 yards, this 1500 pound giant turned broadside and Harry gave me the okay. The Slick Trick zipped through him like a hot knife through butter, and as he trotted off I saw blood building where I settled the pin. 20 yards from where I shot him, he stopped to look back towards the blind, unsure of what happened. Then it was lights out, he was mine. There is a certain degree of awe when you are able to take a 1,500 pound animal with a bow, not to mention getting a complete pass-through and watching him fall in sight.
It was quite a production loading a bull eland into the back of Harry’s Landcruiser, let alone what we must have looked like driving home. I believe a few calls to the police would have been made had we been home in Houston.
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1BzObmDgHM"]African Arrow Safaris - Eland - YouTube[/ame]Comment
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Man, you saaaamoked that Eland.Comment
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June 21st was one of the strangest days of the hunt. Driving out that morning, we had a caracal walk across the road in front of us at 100 yards, something I didn’t think I would get to see, especially during the day. That morning, the plan was to try for the bushbuck, an animal that doesn’t typically come to water or feed. Harry’s property backs up to the Limpopo River, and the area nearest the river typically holds good numbers of bushbuck which are best hunted via spot and stalk. On the way there, we drove past a shooter kudu bull standing in a fairly open area about 50 yards off the main road. We rolled slowly past a couple hundred yards, and as is the case with most of the animals at African Arrows, he didn’t pay much mind to the truck. Because these properties are bow only, they don’t associate the trucks with danger. We parked and began our stalk with a favorable wind. The plan was to walk down the soft sand road which would make our approach as silent as possible. The grass was about waist high, so once we got closer we could get on hands and knees to close the final distance. The disadvantage we had was that the sun was up and there wasn’t enough wind to disguise our movement.
Creeping along, we got to 100 yards when the big kudu bull let out a bark and was gone. We never saw him before he took off, and I think it would have been tough to get him even with the advantage of a rifle. The old gray ghost had our number!
Once we got down to the river area, we skirted along some 20 foot high cane and reeds. There were small game trails throughout, and it looked promising. As we topped a rise and looked out over an open flat, we saw two warthog boars milling around and fighting. We followed slowly behind them for a couple hundred yards when they entered some thicker brush, where we were then able to close the distance. I was walking closely behind Harry, arrow knocked, when the smaller boar circled back and walked across our left through the brush. Expecting the other boar to follow behind, we stood on a little trail and waited for a potential shot opportunity. Suddenly, he appeared to our right making his way down the trail we were on. As he walked behind a bush, I drew and Harry leaned to his left, giving me room to shoot. He stopped at 10 yards and saw us, staring curiously. The only shot I had was in the point of the shoulder, as he was basically facing us. I touched off the arrow and it hit where I wanted it, although the penetration with the Rage head was poor. He took off in a fury, and we slowly tracked him following spotty blood.
As we worked along, I spotted a bushbuck in the grass ahead, so we got down and waited. Unfortunately it was a ewe but she got to within 20 yards, an easy shot. There was no ram with her, so we kept tracking the warthog. He eventually made his way under a fence and into an overgrown field, where Harry tracked in some very difficult conditions until we found him. His tusks weren’t anything to speak of, but any animal on the ground is a trophy in my book.
We circled back and again began our pursuit of the secretive bushbuck. Walking along the river, a really big ram jumped out of his bed 40 yards in front of us. As luck would have it, Harry guessed that he had just bedded down and if we’d been there a little earlier he would have been ours. Continuing our hunt, we ran across a lot of hippo dung and fresh tracks. I couldn’t believe how big they were and was relieved we were looking at tracks rather than the real thing. We eventually stalked our way through the area and after being satisfied that there were no other bushbuck, we began our retreat. On our walk back, we came to a spot in the game fence that this hippo had run completely through. It was a testament to the damage these massive animals could do, and I now understand how they are one of the most dangerous and feared animals in Africa. We ended up seeing four kudu bulls driving home, the stalkable bulls being too small and the big boys were on the downwind side, as luck would have it.Comment
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The final morning, I woke up optimistic and ready to give it all we had. I had my mind on one thing, a big mature kudu bull. We had seen dozens all week but they had eluded us time and time again, which only added fuel to the fire. That is, at its essence, what hunting is all about. If it were easy, a true hunter would eventually lose interest because the chase is what we desire. The kill is the crescendo and there is unquestionably a sense of finality that comes when the animal is down. At the heart of the matter, none of us wants the pursuit to be over.
We started our drive to the stand and saw a big kudu a thousand yards away, so we attempted a stalk.
Again, with the conditions in our favor he still managed to disappear like the gray ghost that he is. We didn’t see or hear him, he just vanished.
The setting for the final day’s hunt was a blind we had seen kudu near all week. Harry and I loaded all our gear in the stand and he parked the truck downwind several hundred yards away, walking back in silence. We settled in for the long day, but a few minutes after sitting down Harry said “Dane, I don’t have a good feeling about this stand. Let’s pack up and go to a different blind.” I laughed and said “whatever you think!”
We drove to a property I had yet to hunt; Harry said he had hunted there since he was a kid and the same gentleman has owned it for 50 years. We drove up to a windmill with a concrete water tank and five roads which led to the water like spokes of a wheel. Harry apologized in advance for the state of the blind and said that they don’t typically hunt this property until August so it may not be in the best shape.
I got out of the truck and began piling all our gear inside, clearing the dead vegetation from the dirt floor of the blind to avoid any noisy missteps at a critical time. Harry eventually made it back and noted that the wind was perfect. I was optimistic, but four hours passed and the only wildlife we had seen was one warthog sow, marking one of the slowest hunts we’d had in 11 days of hunting. I was getting a little restless and Harry noticed, but assured me that if we were going to see anything, it should be a big kudu. It was getting close to lunchtime so Harry texted Garry asking for him to drop lunch off when they could.
I was thinking about the past 10 days and how much fun we’d had. As a child, I would bass fish or hunt birds and squirrels in the summertime with my best friend. We had virtually no responsibility, no worries, and the hunt was seemingly never over. Around every corner was something we could catch or hunt. Africa is the adult version of that, limited only by time and money. Harry had become someone that I would truly call a friend, which is not a word I throw around lightly. With as many incredible animals as we had seen and taken, some of my favorite times were walking through the brush with him and learning about different things. You spend a lot of time in the blind with your PH, so it’s important to find one that you get along with. We were like long lost brothers.
Some of the most memorable aspects of the safari were stories of other hunters who had been through African Arrows. Two of the funnier anecdotes involved confusion because of the PH’s South African accent. Harry was hunting with a husband and wife a few years prior, and the woman was not a hunter but sat in the blinds with her husband to watch. Halfway through the trip, she decided that she wanted to take something with a crossbow Harry has in camp. They were on hands and knees in a fairly open field stalking a gemsbok with Harry leading the way, the wife directly behind and the husband bringing up the rear. Suddenly a duiker appeared and Harry stopped to avoid spooking the tiny animal and blowing their stalk. He turned back to his clients and said in his heavy South African accent, “There’s a duiker just ahead, let’s wait for him to leave before continuing on.” He turned back towards the duiker and was glassing ahead when he heard his clients bickering behind him, eventually making quite a commotion. He turned and saw that the man was having to physically restrain his wife, who was intent on getting the hell out of there as she had no interest in being anywhere near a TIGER.
The other incident involved one of Garry’s hunters. They were in a ground blind when one of the client’s most prized targets made its way into the water, a zebra. When the stallion was close enough, the client drew his bow. Garry turned and said “Let down” because he didn’t like the angle, then noticed the client start to crouch, still in full draw. He repeated “Let down!” as the client crouched further and further, eventually going to his knees in the blind, still at full draw. Finally, Garry said “Let your bow down, I don’t like the angle.” The client let down and exasperatedly said “Who cares about the ankle, I’m doing a shoulder mount!”
At 1:30, some warthogs made their way into the water and a good boar hopped up on the water tank to drink. Harry said he was a shooter, but I didn’t want to jeopardize my last chance at a kudu so I stayed seated. Suddenly, a huge old tusker ran up to the water and Harry excitedly motioned for me to get my bow. This was the kind of pig that made me forget all about a kudu. I grabbed my bow as Harry got the camera rolling and drew back knowing that the shot would have to be quick. Of the half dozen warthogs that had come to water with this big boar, each of them had run off immediately after drinking. The shot angle was the toughest I’d faced to date, with the boar facing almost directly away from the blind.
With little choice I anchored my pin behind his last rib and squeezed my release for the 22 yard shot.
The Rage hit him where I intended, but when he spun to leave it looked a little low. We replayed the video again frame by frame and decided it was a good shot, so we got out of the hide to take a look. 40 yards from the water we found a spot where he had stopped, and after finding similar sign again at 60 yards we decided to back out and give him some time. I was really anxious about this warthog, as I knew that a boar of this caliber was arguably my best trophy of the safari. Also hanging in the balance was my eighth animal with eight arrows, which would be a record for Harry and his African Arrows clients.
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aeL-JOIwoU"]African Arrow Safaris - Warthog - YouTube[/ame]Comment
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I've got a trip coming up in April along side Tyak to SA. If we experience a fraction of the trip you did, I am gong to lose my mind!! With just 63 days until our flight out, the days are starting to blur!! I just hired in with Keystone in Houston. I'm just on the other side of the office from Erin.
LOTBComment
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In for more reading later, awesome shots!Comment
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What a small world! Let Erin or I know if you need any last minute tips or help with anything.Originally posted by Bowhica View PostComment
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Will do. Have you shot the Oilman's shoot in houston before? If so we've met. I shot on the Boots n Coots team for years.Comment
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Awesome story!Comment
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Man I love reading these hunts. Great write up.Comment
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HEck of a shot on that hog. What an incredible funny looking animalComment
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Great post with nice videos.Comment
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