A ROOKIE’S Take on BOWHUNTER’S PARADISE

Jul 9, 2018 | Bowhunting, News

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]A ROOKIE’S Take on BOWHUNTER’S PARADISE
By Dr Tom Deters

I knew every inch of the dense, thorny brush and the smorgasbord of scents that filled the crisp, early morning air. I could feel the raw energy of the land. After a long stalk on fresh tracks, the morning mist slowly evaporated to reveal the seventy-inch spiraled horns of the legendary “Grey Ghost”. More formally known as Africa’s greater kudu, he was the record book animal I had been seeking for decades. I slowed my breathing, becoming deathly still, though worried that the pounding of my heart would betray me.

Hidden at the base of the baobab tree, I watched, frozen. After carefully surveying his domain, the magnificent, bull slowly turned broadside and lowered his head to drink. His cows were momentarily distracted by a jackal trotting by, allowing me step out and bring my PSE Evo to full draw. At 32 yards, the 30-yard pin settled one-third up the bull’s chest from the front leg, and I released the 475-grain, Easton A/C Super Slim, tipped with a 125gr Silver Flame broadhead. Traveling at 280 feet per second, the razor tip pierced its target and exited the opposite lung. Instantaneously, the huge bull leapt six feet in the air, spun, landed in a crouch and took off in a cloud of dust, bright red blood spurting from both sides. I stood, silent, and within seconds I heard the crash. My dream hunt was over, and my dream animal was in the books!

There was just one problem. Unfortunately, the above scene had only happened in my mind. I had never actually been to Africa!

Decades of bowhunting deer, elk and boar, reading dozens of books on African safaris, and the hours spent watching National Geographic and Discovery Channels had fueled my imagination and stoked my heart’s yearning to hunt the Dark Continent. But I waited for my son Jake to grow up and hunt with me. Since age six he prepared, learning, practicing, shooting 3D tournaments and logging his first boars in the Everglades of south Florida. Jake dreamt of gemsbok. I dreamt of kudu. Now it was time. He was sixteen, shot his sixty-pound PSE Evo just fine, and was cool under pressure. Africa beckoned for a hunt of a lifetime, for memories we would both carry to our dying day. Business commitments be damned! We were going on our dream hunt.

But first – the daunting decisions of where to go, who to hunt with, and all the arrangements.

We made a wish list:

• Safety, ease of travel and friendly customs policies.
• Bowhunting only – PHs that specialized in bowhunting, and an area where the game didn’t hear much shooting.
• Great game: diversity in plains game, large herds, and Record Book-level genetics (don’t many hunters want this?) For the time and money, we wanted the best chances!
• Areas where animals had not been not been over-hunted.
• Cool temperatures for great movement of game and fewer bugs.
• Nice accommodations
• Moderately strenuous – mostly still or blind hunting (vs. a walk-8-miles- a-day elk hunt)
• Great professional hunters
• 10-Day Package –my longest window to be away.
• Minimal danger – as a first trip to Africa, no need to deal with big cats, or elephants.

After considering all of my wishes, South Africa came up as the go-to place, with the Limpopo Province in particular, in the northern part of South Africa, close to the Botswana border. It is roughly a six-hour drive from Johannesburg, widely recognized as one of the top African plains-game hunting areas, both in terms of herd numbers, as well as incredible genetics. Some quick research in the Safari Club International Record Book certainly confirmed that.

There were daily, direct, non-stop flights to and from Atlanta / Johannesburg on Delta Airlines. Perfect. South Africa had no visa requirements and is U.S. friendly. There were no required vaccines, and Limpopo Province was in a low/no-malaria-risk area, and we chose to hunt in the African winter months where night temperatures dropped into the forties, and rose into the sixties during the day, further reducing insect-related issues.

Things were shaping up. The next step was finding the right Professional Hunter / outfitter. After much in-depth research, including costs per animal (trophy fees), accommodations, pictures, videos, cross referenced with YouTube and social media, we finally came to a decision.

I was drawn to Bushmen Safaris (www.Bushmensafaris.com) for a number of key reasons.

They are exclusively archery only, since 1986, and only let eight hunters on the 22,000-acre ranch per month. Also, they only hunt the ten day “dark of the moon cycle” during March through October. A reported 80% of hunters return after their first hunt, and the Record Book stats were off the hook with over 300 Top 25 placings, over 100 top 10 placings, over 50 Top 5 placings and a dozen World Records (note, the current numbers are higher).

I found that the head professional hunters were a father and son team, Nick and Shannon Van Zyl. Nick, the patriarch, had served as a PH for decades in many African countries and had spent his career hunting dangerous game. I remembered reading about him in Capstick’s classic African safari hunting book “Death in the Dark Continent.” That sealed the deal for me. I had to meet this guy, learn from him and beg him to tell me and my son every single hunting story he could remember!

I had detailed packing lists, including all the obvious items – bow, backpack, binos, rangefinder, video camera, appropriate clothing but the list on the Bushmen’s Safari website also suggested a charged radio and an ozone generator to kill any scent. And of course, remember everything in Africa has a thorn and they are sharp! So long sleeves can be good. If you want to capture every single moment on video, it’s important to have multiple video cameras, phone holders for your bow or whatever, and to practice with them before you leave, and all shooting gear dialed in. (Thankfully, Shannon is an archery expert and can fix just about anything.) It helps to learn the anatomy of African game.

Finally, the trip was for real. We flew from West Palm Beach to Atlanta and met with a group of hunters from Utah, all of whom were returning to Bushmen’s. For most it was their third or fourth trip, but for one it was his ninth! That spoke volumes. Nick and Shannon treat you like family.

We were speechless going out in the jeep the first morning, passing herds of impala, zebra, blesbok and wildebeest. The excitement was palpable. This was going to be an incredible ten days, seeing dozens, even hundreds of animals up close, all day long.

Bushmen’s has large, incredibly well built, well insulated, carpeted blinds with sitting benches, chairs and shelf ledges, most of which were nicer than my first apartment. When you get dropped off around 7:00 a.m. (I couldn’t believe the banker’s hours!) you have a well-packed lunch. The inside of the blind is black, so it’s best to wear all black, although camo is just fine.

The hunt was more than we could have hoped for. Together Jake and I took ten animals; a zebra, black wildebeest, waterbok, blesbok, warthog, impala, blue wildebeest and, yes – kudu, and gemsbok! All shots were taken within thirty yards. Jake’s gemsbok and black wildebeest made it into the Safari Club International record book, as did my kudu and waterbuck. My wife even got the zebra rug she always wanted. Talk about being on cloud nine!

Our trophies are beautifully displayed in our home after extraordinary taxidermy by Bill Turner of World Class Artistry, with wall mounts and the kudu and gemsbok on pedestals. I relive this hunt over in my mind almost every day, and do does Jake. The bond we shared can never be broken. We just can’t wait to go back!

Make your dream hunt in Africa a reality. There is no perfect time. You have to decide and just make it happen. You will be glad, beyond belief, that you did!

SIDEBAR: FROM FIELD TO LIVINGROOM TROPHY

One of our main concerns going into this trip surrounded the issue of “How do I get my animal from the bush in Africa, to a mount in my living room in Florida?” I’ve heard a few horror stories on this topic, which did little to ease my anxiety, such as capes getting lost, customs issues, or mounts taking more than two years to process and be delivered. But as I learned more and networked both with the hunters who had been to Bushmen Safaris, and Nick and Shannon Van Zyl themselves, I found that my concerns were born largely out of ignorance. The key was the time spent researching and setting up the chain of events before the trip, which really helped things go smoothly and efficiently. Nothing got lost. Nothing sat on a dock. Nothing sat in Customs. The bottom line is we got all our mounts delivered to our home within one year of our trip. Just ask around and you’ll find that’s pretty quick in the grand scheme of things.

We had the entire chain of events choreographed before we even left for our hunt. Here’s exactly how it worked: Once we took a shot at an animal, from our enclosed blind overlooking a waterhole, we turned on our radio and let Nick Van Zyl know, as well as how we felt about the shot placement or if we could see the animal down. Soon thereafter he showed up with a truck, the dogs and trackers. The downed animal was quickly found in less than 75 yards for all but two of our ten animals. Once found, the animal was brushed, positioned for photos and then lifted onto the flatbed of a truck by winch to be taken back to the compound for skinning and butchering. All we had to do was shoot and smile for the camera.

The staff at Bushmen’s expertly skinned and heavily salted all our hides. They were then picked up at the end of the hunt to be processed, under South African law, for treatment (to prevent infestation), and certified for either export or shipping to a taxidermist in our country. The cost for this was nominal.

At this point, a decision needed to be made to either 1) have the skins shipped for tanning and taxidermy in South Africa after which the full mounts would then be shipped to the U.S. or 2) have the skins sent stateside, where they would be processed by a receiving broker for customs entry service (which included USDA certification), then sent to a tannery and then to a taxidermist. If I chose a U.S. taxidermist, I wanted them to have a depth of experience mounting African plains animals, which is not all that common.

We went with Option #2 (decided before the trip), having lined up HuntingTrophy.com services to get our skins through customs so that they could then be sent directly to Carolina Furs for tanning. Both teams were on standby, as everyone in the process was copied in on emails so that they could ensure notification and coordination.

The tanned capes were then sent to Bill Turner of World Class Artistry who was, as good fortune would have it, located about twenty minutes from my house in Florida! While I can’t mention names, let’s just say that a number of the TV show hunters have Bill do their work, which is quite honestly breathtaking. He is an artist more than a taxidermist and he was even kind enough to rent a truck to deliver our ten mounts. We enjoy them immensely and thank God for them and the wonderful African hunt we experienced with Bushmen Safaris. [ ]

(As an aside, I have to say that the food is probably one of the most undersold aspects, as the meat was incredible! As the son of a butcher I love red meat, but there is nothing that comes close to kudu or gemsbok backstraps or wildebeest steaks or impala neck. Tender, tasty and delicious!
[/vc_column_text][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”16440,16438,16435,16434″][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Buffalo with a Bow … seven species

Feb 3, 2018 | Bowhunting, News

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]America and South Africa: 1980s
Buffalo with a Bow … seven species. Part 1
By Dr Adrian de Villiers

It was the early 1980s, and it was time for something different. I decided to focus on wild oxen of the world, starting with a bison – ‘Red Indians’ had shot thousands with longbows off horses. I booked a hunt with Paul Mooney in Marathon, Texas.

Paul wanted to make a video, and nearly got me killed by a cantankerous old bison. There were a few salient facts that he had not mentioned before we set out… Lone bison bulls are chased out of the main herd, and their eyesight is not that good in thick bush. When herd bulls bump into lone bulls, a huge fight ensues, so when you startle a lone bull, he just attacks to defend himself as he thinks he’s been seen by the herd bull.

Early one morning we spotted a large lone bull. Paul said it was not big enough for a trophy, that I should do a “mock stalk” for the video to be used later. It was hot, so I took off my white T-shirt and stuffed it in my pocket. Wearing my soft moccasin shoes, full camo overalls, gloves and a face mask, and staying in the shadows, I stalked the bull up to 25 yards. Paul, all six-foot-six of him in blue jeans, cowboy boots with noisy leather soles, a huge camera and a white Stetson, lumbered noisily ten yards behind me. Of course, the bison saw him and charged us. As I ran, I was terrified it would get me. In Marathon the cedar trees grow up to 12 feet and give good cover, but they are NOT climbable! There is also cholla, yucca, and cat-claw, all very unfriendly to humans.

I slipped in between the trees zigging and zagging, but the bison kept after me. Fortunately, a cat claw bush pulled the white T-shirt out my pocket, and the bison attacked it with a vengeance. After that I kept two T-shirts to throw out behind me if I was charged again!

A few days later I found a nice bull grazing towards me with the wind right, and I had great cover. The bison was walking towards a strong, five-strand barbed wire cattle fence that would protect me if he saw me and charged. He couldn’t see me from behind a cactus plant, so I drew my bow, very quietly sneaked right up to the fence, and sent a perfect shot from twenty yards as he was quartering away. He bolted off, then stopped and looked back. I was motionless in the dense shadow of a cedar tree. I watched, shaking from adrenalin. The bull swayed, lay down, and within less than a minute it was all over. I was thrilled – my homemade bow had worked flawlessly.

I next booked a hunt with my friend Luchs for an Asian (Indian) water buffalo as it was a step up in size and not quite as aggressive as the Cape buffalo. Water buffalo are similar in size, behaviour, and characteristics, but the Indian/Argentinian version has deep, swept-back horns as distinct from the very wide, straightish horns of the Asian/Australian species.

By now I had replaced my American Archery limbs with Pearson Spoiler limbs which shot incredibly well. My handmade bow was shooting like a dream. I sighted it in up to 80 yards. I sighted it at such long distances, not just to hunt, but to get in a second arrow on a wounded animal. We didn’t work out the kinetic energy or momentum in those days; I just used the heaviest bows and arrows that shot well. My guess is I was using about 120 foot pounds, and 1000-gr arrows.

A large herd was grazing in a swamp very close to a deep riverbed which afforded secure cover to get in really close. The snag was that the banks of the river were so steep, and the grass on the top of the bank was so short that it would be impossible to shoot from either, as they would surely see us and take off. I clambered up the bank and peeked over. Twenty yards away was a depression surrounded by high grass, and there was a huge willow tree making dense shade underneath it, a good place to hide as the noonday sun burnt down on us. As soon as the herd moved behind the thick cover, we sneaked into the thicket and made preparations. The best bull was at 50 yards, which was too far for me for a first shot in those days, and the wind was blowing hard, which made a long shot difficult.

“We’re going to just have to sit and wait and see what happens and take it from there,” I said.

I was hoping the heat would make the herd head for the thicket, but they seemed to be immune to it. We waited for four hours before they started grazing along the river bank towards us.

“Here they come!” I nocked an arrow. The river was only 25 yards away and the wind was blowing obliquely towards it – they would only smell us when they were farther past. We stayed hidden as the herd slowly passed close by, the biggest bull at the back. Then the lead cow picked up our scent and sounded the alarm. They started to stampede. I drew my bow – the shot would be difficult. I knew I should lead the buffalo by a full body length not to hit it too far back or even miss it… even at 20 yards.

I hate aiming in front of an animal, it just doesn’t feel right, but the huge, two-bladed Thunderhead did its job. Too far back or not, at sixty yards the buffalo stopped and fell over. My Asian water buffalo would be #1 SCI for a long time.

I now knew my bow and arrow combination was adequate for buffalo, and set my sights on a Cape buffalo hunt which I organised in Hoedspruit, South Africa. I also knew I needed to be ultra-careful with the beast known as “Black Death.” It would have been easy to shoot one from a tree stand along the river, or at a regular drinking hole, or buy a truckload of animal feed, dump it and come back a few days later and sit in a hide. But I wanted the walk and stalk method, on foot, up close and personal.

It was very dry and cold that September. Although the hunting season had officially ended, farms with a “P3 Exemption certificate” may hunt all year round, and as I was shooting only old bulls it would not affect the breeding program. The bush was desolate, not a leaf on a branch and very little grass away from the river. The animals could spot me from a mile away. I slowed down to a snail’s pace and stayed in the shadows. The whole morning passed with no result, not even a glimpse of a buffalo. Then I came to a dry riverbed and stalked along the edge opposite to the wind, hoping to catch one at a pool in the river. Just as I was giving up hope, I saw a large dust cloud behind me with red-billed oxpeckers rising out of it.

“Buffalo. They’re coming, think and fast.” Jogging along to keep ahead of them I suddenly saw an opportunity – a huge, dry tree on the river bank with a horizontal branch sticking out about six feet from the base of the tree. An easy climb. Fully camouflaged, I sat on the branch over the riverbed. My plan was to spot a big bull at the back of the herd and shoot as it passed under me. I estimated the distance to where I thought they would walk at 30 yards – perfect. I set my sights and waited. Where I sat was an old hippo slide, a good spot to exit the deep riverbed. As the buffalo started getting nearer, the herd trailing behind the leader by thirty yards, I scanned them with my binoculars to look for a nice bull. I was expecting to take a thirty-yard shot on a moving animal, when the leaders suddenly veered up the hippo slide right in front of me, passing me just ten yards away. I was totally safe, only two yards above them, out on a limb, literally, when a really nice bull stretched out his front legs to get out over the top of the bank. My arrow took him right in the heart. He jumped, ran thirty-five yards and went down hard. The herd bunched up behind him in turmoil, not knowing what had happened or what to do. Then another nice bull, not as big as the first, was straddled over the edge right in front of me, trying to push his way into the herd.

“When am I ever going to get another chance like this?” I asked myself. Ignoring the fact that I would now be in for double the cost, I sent another perfect shot. The second one died almost touching the first.

I was elated – my first of the Big Five. I was on my way.

BIO

Adrian is a retired radiologist, game breeder and professional hunter and bowhunter. He is desperately trying to get the next species of buffalo, the fearsome gaur. They have been protected in India and Indonesia for years. If anyone knows where he can legally bowhunt one, please email him @ sarc@icon.co.za

I had moved from being a handgun hunter to trying out a bow and arrow, and wanted to be the first person in Africa to shoot the Big Five and a hippo, legally, with a bow and arrow. In those days the local archery establishments knew very little about the sport – they were usually gun shops with a few bows in the corner somewhere, so I contacted many famous bowhunters and American Archery manufactures. “What arrow weight and what poundage should I use to shoot a Cape buffalo and elephant?” I asked. No one really knew.

I wrote to Fred Bear and I have a copy of that letter dated 1986! He replied that one could NOT kill an elephant with a bow and arrow, no matter how heavy the arrow or how strong the bow. To cut a long story short, by 1992 I had shot the Big Five and a hippo – with bow and arrows.

I had been shooting a PSE Mach 1 on 80 # but wanted more poundage. However, as I increased the poundage by getting American Archery to make me 105# limbs, the cast magnesium risers started to break regularly. (Not something you want to happen when you are drawing down on dangerous game!) So I decided to make my own bow riser out of T4 aircraft aluminium. It shot beautifully and weighed a staggering nine pounds, but it was as steady as a rock at full draw. I could not find a stiff enough arrow off the shelf, so I inserted a 2419 arrow into a 2512 aluminium arrow, and used one of Andy Simo’s (New Archery Products’ president) 273 gr stainless steel African Broadheads.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”14085,14086,14087″][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Hunting giraffe with bow and arrow

Jan 29, 2018 | Bowhunting, News

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]South Africa: 2017
Hunting giraffe with bow and arrow
By Frank Berbuir

It is the beginning of August and I am very happy to make it back to beautiful South Africa. Once again I want to hunt with bow and arrow, together with my friend and professional hunter Izak Vos from Vos Safaris. After a long overnight flight from Europe I am happy to see him. Before we leave the Gauteng province to head up north to the Limpopo we quickly visit an outdoor and hunting shop to get me some more Sniper African clothes and a pair of these special wildebeest/ kudu leather hunting shoes – excellent shoes for hunting in Africa.

During our drive to the Limpopo Province close to the Botswana border, Izak and I enjoyed talking about our ambitious hunting plans for the following eight days. After our extremely successful bowhunt on a Cape buffalo, waterbuck, bushbuck and bushpig last year, I decided to take along again for this hunting adventure my trusty and reliable Elite GT500 bow. With 90 pounds draw weight and together with the Easton Full Metal Jacket 250 Dangerous Game arrows and the Muzzy Phantom SS 200-grain broadhead resulting in a total arrow weight of 800 grain, I had excellent experiences the year before. I felt very comfortable with that equipment and bow set-up last time and all the shooting and practices went very well in the preparation this time again. “Never change a winning team,” was my thinking, especially with regard to our intention to take a Cape eland.

It was on the third day of hunting that Anton, the landowner and farmer visited us in our hunting camp and asked if I would like to hunt a giraffe bull with bow and arrow. At that time I did not really think about a giraffe. Why shoot a giraffe – for the trophy or for the meat? A giraffe is a game animal like any other, and you can hunt it legally in South Africa and other African countries with rifle or bow, whichever weapon is legally approved.

“I’ve not taken a giraffe before,” I said. “But probably with that bow and arrow combination it is possible, and I could step up to the plate.” A giraffe could be twice as heavy and tough as a Cape buffalo and so it would be a great challenge. I know hunting a giraffe can be a touchy and sensitive topic for some, and especially for the anti-hunters, but Anton explained why he wanted this bull taken.

“Guys, I have right now four giraffes here, a female, two young ones and this big mature bull which is about 15 years old, the son of the big female giraffe. The two youngsters are from him, which means he mated with his own mother. Moreover, he disliked another mature bull I had, and continually fought and chased him, till in the end he died, due to all the tough fights. So, if I want to refresh the bloodline of my giraffes, I need to take him out. That´s the major reason.”

Izak and I looked at each other, and after a short discussion I said, “Ok, let´s go for it.”

The next morning after breakfast, Anton picked us up and we drove close to the area where we have seen the giraffes the days before. He said we should phone him in case we needed him. We jumped off the vehicle and walked for about a kilometre before we glassed the four giraffes for the first time, and started our walk and stalk. Even though it was winter in Africa, it became quite warm, about 25°C (77°F), and I started to sweat – probably also because of the excitement. The giraffe, Giraffa camelopardalis (kameelperd in Afrikaans), is the tallest animal on earth and really big as well. But because they are so well camouflaged, we had to look very carefully for them, and be wary not to spook them.We focused on their heads feeding on leaves in the tops of acacias. Being nearly six metres tall (20 feet), they can see a hunter approach from a long way off, and with a few gentle strides can create a lot of distance between them and the hunter.

This happened a couple of times when we first spotted them and tried to sneak in with extreme caution. Several times we could shorten the distance between them and us down to 70 or 60 metres, always keeping the wind against us and hiding behind some bushes or trees, which was quite challenging with four pairs of eyes checking their surroundings. But when we wanted to get closer we were busted. For several hours all our stalking attempts were in vain, when suddenly the big bull separated himself to the right from the other three, and went to some higher trees to feed. Now we had a small chance to sneak in closer to him using some scraggy bushes as cover. Izak crept slowly forward, and I followed in his tracks directly behind him. We stopped at the last ambush between the giraffe bull and us.

Izak took my rangefinder, checked the distance and whispered, “He is standing steady at 40 metres nicely broadside – now or never, Frank.” So rock´n roll, it was up to me now.

I nocked in the arrow quietly and pulled my Elite GT500 bow, smooth and calm, to full draw. I needed to take a step to the right for a clear shooting window and aimed with the 40 metres pin of my Spot Hogg sight to where Izak told me – a spot above the front shoulder at the height of the “chest bumps” or protruding knobs on the chest, roughly 10 to 11 inches back to get a heart or lung shot. I could feel my heartbeat in my own chest while aiming and finally tapping on the trigger of my Scott release. The Easton Full Metal Jacket Dangerous Game arrow was on its deadly mission, and within a split second hammered into the giraffe´s body where I had aimed. “Yes,” Izak said. He had followed the action with his binoculars. “The arrow went in exactly where it should and the penetration is good.” Indeed, even without binoculars I could see that only the rear part of the arrow with the feathers was sticking out and blood was running down the shoulder – unbelievable. The giraffe immediately started to run after the impact, and the three other giraffes followed him. We tracked his getaway with the binoculars and then started to walk after him. He ran about 400 to 500 metres and then stood behind a tree. We saw him slowly lower his head and then finally sink to the ground. An absolutely amazing picture – I will never forget when this big majestic animal went down.

Izak smiled at me, shook my hand, hugged me and said: “Congrats, well done my friend, he is down but let´s just take some time to be sure before we approach him.” It was a good thing that we waited – definitely you do not want to get hit by a hoof of a dying giraffe. Then all was quiet. Silently we walked to the bull and the congratulations from Izak were overwhelming.

We phoned Anton, and he was also very happy and congratulated me heartily when he arrived with the bakkie. They asked if I would like to stay with the giraffe for some minutes while they drove back to pick up some of the farm guys for loading this roughly 1.4 tons huge giraffe.

“Take your time”, I replied. It gave me the chance and time to bid farewell to this magnificent animal and to finally realize my bow and arrow’s success.

When they returned we arranged the bull for some nice and respectful trophy pictures. Then six South Africans, a German, and with the help of the winch, loaded this giant in 10 minutes onto the Land Cruiser. Very impressive to see how these guys can load. Back at the farm the Castle Lager beer tasted excellent. The skinning and slaughtering of this colossus was another challenge for the farm workers. The next day a refrigerated cargo truck came in to pick up round about 900 kilograms of meat. The trophy, backskin and leg bones went to Izak´s uncle Jan Viljoen, my taxidermist of confidence, who did a fantastic job on my trophies before, but that´s another story.

One more time, thanks very much to Izak for the great organization, his experience and company, Anton our host, and as well to all the nice people I had the opportunity to meet during this fantastic time.

“Baie dankie and Alles van die beste.”

Frank
Equipment:
Bow: Elite GT500 @ 90#
Arrow: Easton Full Metal Jacket 250 Dangerous Game with heavier inserts
Broadhead: Muzzy Phantom SS 2-Blade @ 200 grain
Optics: Zeiss Victory Binocular & Nikon Rangefinder
Release: Scott

Camo: Sniper Africa
German hunter Frank Berbuir is passionate about the outdoors and hunting – especially bowhunting, which he has practised for more than 18 years. Although he’s bowhunted in several countries, he’s become addicted to hunting in Africa since his first safari in 2004. Frank is a mechanical engineer and risk manager in the automotive industry.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”14054,14055,14056,14057,14058,14059,14060″][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Stalking Black Death

Jan 26, 2018 | Bowhunting, News

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]South Africa: 2015
Stalking Black Death
By Joe Byers

Day One, just past dawn, three bachelor Cape buffalo bulls slipped into a large patch of extremely thick bush on the Rock Haven property. Professional hunters Piet Otto and Rassie Erasmus glassed their location from a high vantage point half a mile away, but the swirling wind decided them to postpone a stalk.
Late morning the wind abated, and the two PHs, their client and I began slipping into the thickets of the Limpopo Province. I hoped to take a Cape buff with a crossbow. My friend, Victor Gavin, was a Vietnam War veteran who had survived three helicopter crashes and as many landmine explosions, and trauma had taken its toll – he could walk, but not crawl, which complicated the stalk.
With the wind in our faces, we inched through brush so thick that Erasmus had to cut a route with clippers. He moved the ground litter aside with each step so that we could tread silently in soft sand. An hour into the sneak he cut fresh tracks and signaled for Victor to be ready to shoot in an instant. Fifty metres farther, I suddenly sneezed. Attempts to muffle the sound made it louder, then leaves rustled and sticks snapped directly in front of us.
I knew that animals often sneeze as well – so though the buffs were alerted, they did not stampede, but the element of surprise was gone. Erasmus walked us half a mile ahead of the location and asked Otto to follow the spoor, a maneuver that could push the bulls from the thicket.
Victor laid his pre-1964 Winchester .375 H&H magnum on the cradle of sticks, anticipating the bull stepping from cover. Once in the open, we hoped the bull would hit our scent, stop for a second, and allow a shot.
Thirty minutes of suspense passed, when Otto appeared behind us. “I spotted the bull in its bed,” he whispered. “It was swinging those big horns from side to side watching for danger and checking the wind, so I backed out.”
Hoping the bull would remain hidden, we followed Otto into the thicket again. This is crazy, I remember thinking. If a buffalo charged, we’d barely have time to blink, much less aim and shoot. There were no large trees for cover, and the danger of our pursuit became very clear. If black death came knocking, we were there to answer. But at the bedding site we found the black ghost had vanished without a sound. Erasmus chose to back out and use the day’s experience to devise a plan.
In North America, after a shot at deer or elk, you can be virtually assured that the animal will flee and that you can stalk it with little worry of harm. Not so in Africa. In fact, Cape buffalo have been known to remember persons that harmed them years earlier, and retaliate.
As Cape buffalo pass their breeding prime, they are forced from the herd by younger males who take on the breeding rights. As one might expect, these senior males are the grouchy old men of their species and become short-tempered, mean, and prone to charge without provocation. These solitary males are known as Dagga Boys, from the Masai word, “mud”. As the buffalo ages, it loses the hair on its rump, making it prone to sunburn. To remedy the situation, the old males wallow in mud.
Perhaps the scariest element of Cape buffalo is its memory. Elephants have great memories, and Cape buffalo have also proved this characteristic. They are notorious for waiting patiently in ambush for hunters who have wounded them, and charging in revenge.
I had the good fortune to hunt pronghorn antelope in Montana with Nikki Atcheson. This incredible lady had hunted buffalo a few months earlier and literally had felt the wrath of an angry retaliation.
Hunting with her party, she shot a buffalo in dense brush, wounding the animal. Always a dangerous situation, she, two Professional Hunters and two trackers took up the spoor. As the trail led into thick bush, the buffalo waited in ambush, ran past the two trackers, bowled over the two professional hunters and horned Nikki, tossing her like a rag into the air. Eventually, the two PHs killed the buffalo, but the beast seemed destined to wreak revenge on the hunter that wounded it, and died on top of her. Fortunately, Atcheson was flown to the nearest hospital and the prompt attention of her safari company and the skills of professional medical attention saved her life.
Studies have shown that Cape buffalo can remember a negative experience from two years previously, and react. And they sometimes charge hunters for no apparent reason. I hunted with a PH who guided a rifle-hunting client to a sleeping buffalo in Namibia. The two sneaked up on the buffalo and shot it in its bed. They were celebrating and about to take pictures, when a second buffalo suddenly charged from the bush. Luckily the PH still had his stopping rifle in hand. Buffalo charge thousands of times, reportedly goring more than 200 people each year.
In 2015, two friends and I conducted a crossbow safari, using three brands of crossbows of modest power, and took 15 animals with 15 arrows. Sizes ranged from a huge eland bull to a bushbuck. The performance of this ancient technology was so impressive, I wanted to up the ante and try for Cape buffalo.
I discovered the CAMX 330 crossbow which was built for extreme durability and power, providing over 100 ft.-lbs. of kinetic energy, well above the minimum required for dangerous game. I experimented with heavy crossbow arrows, eventually developing a 720-grain shaft and broadhead combination that shot consistently.
Buffalo hunting with archery gear is particularly challenging due to the physical nature of the beast. Eons of fighting has developed skin on its neck that can be two inches thick. In addition to a tank-like body, the beast has developed overlapping sets of ribs. For the archer, this means an arrow must penetrate a tough, thick hide, stout muscle, and cut through two sets of bone just to reach the vitals.
Because the Rock Haven property had limited water resources, Erasmus erected a tree stand near a waterhole with the most recent tracks. Trail camera images showed the big bull usually watered at night, yet occasionally drank just before dark, a behavior I hoped to exploit.
Day 3. As the safari progressed, Otto and I focused on ambushing a bull at water, while Gavin and Erasmus stalked a different area on foot. The Rock Haven property is aptly named as it has two large mountains with huge boulders. These high rock outcrops were ideal for glassing the valley below, but moving from observation to hunting took plenty of effort. One passage, known affectionately as “The Devil’s Throat” was particularly rough.
Although each day got Gavin closer to a shot, one promising stalk was ruined when the senior hunter stepped on a stick and spooked the buffalo. Erasmus had a tradition that such hunting transgressions were addressed by a “penalty drink,” a stout shot of blended whiskies and hot peppers. “If you miss a shot or snap a stick, you will pay the consequences,” he laughed, as we all cheered Gavin as he took his “medicine” at the evening campfire.
Apparently, the good-natured kidding the previous evening made a difference, because Erasmus and Gavin sneaked through the same area and found the buffalo bedded and possibly asleep. “Aim for that tiny leaf,” whispered the PH, choosing a lethal spot on the huge animal that faced away from them. Gavin took a deep breath, settled the 1×4 reticle on the spot and squeezed the trigger.
At the recoil, the buffalo stood and took a few steps into the bush, completely disappearing. Gavin was ready for a second shot, but sneaking into the dense thicket seemed unwise. Then they heard heavy breathing, an indication of a double lung hit, and finally the death bellow.
The bull I hunted proved to be a wily adversary. I had arrived in camp Monday at noon and planned to begin the hunt the following day. However, wind conditions from the waterhole tree stand were perfect, and my PH suggested that I begin right away. In America, the saying goes, “The best time to hunt a tree stand is the first time.” Once a tree stand has been hunted, human scent is present and there is the chance to be seen or heard.
Ironically, the same premise would apply to my buffalo quest. Although the stand had been in place for a month, most of the cloth concealment had blown loose, and we took no scent precautions.
We entered the stand at 3:00 p.m. and about two hours later, the buffalo stepped into an opening 75 yards away. My heart pounded as I envisioned getting a shot the first evening of the hunt, but conditions soon changed. The waterhole I watched was also used by a host of other animals, including a herd of wildebeest. The buffalo seemed intent on drinking until a wildebeest saw movement in the treetops and began alarm snorting. Within minutes, the buffalo turned and trotted away.
Early the next morning, we revisited the stand and improved concealment with green cloth that was stapled fast so it wouldn’t move. We also used scent reduction, spraying all our gear and clothing to minimize human scent. Despite these steps, the next five sits had no buffalo sightings. Wildebeest, impala, and warthogs drank unconcerned, but the buffalo only drank at night and seemed to approach the water from a variety of directions.
Sitting in the open tree stand overlooking the water took great patience. Animals constantly looked up, and the slightest movement or sound would stampede them. Finally, on the sixth night on stand, the buffalo showed up in daylight. Instead of approaching the water directly as did the wildebeest and impala, it stood stoically, scenting and watching. Finally, it stepped to the water, drank head on, and then turned broadside as wildebeest approached from behind. Seizing the opportunity, I raised my crossbow, sighted on the animal’s heart, and squeezed the trigger. At that instant, the bull rotated back toward the water and the arrow struck the brisket instead of the shoulder.
The big bull raced away and we followed to evaluate the shot. We found a small amount of blood, yet nothing that showed a mortal wound. With darkness approaching we decided to return in the morning.
My PH had videotaped the shot and we played the footage in slow motion to better judge the effect of the shot, yet it was inconclusive. After a long night of worry and self-examination, we headed back toward the waterhole, Erasmus with his .458 and Otto with a .375. We picked up the trail and sneaked along the spoor, hoping to find the bull expired in its bed.
The bush was thick, and the two big guns sneaked, duck-walked, and glassed the brush to catch a pre-emptive strike. I followed with my crossbow, although it would be useless if the wounded animal charged. We located where the buffalo had spent the night, finding no blood or sign of distress.
At this point, the crossbow hunt became a rifle hunt – I asked my two PHs to kill the animal if they got the chance. As we followed the spoor, the buffalo seemed to walk in a direct path. We planned to circle ahead and ambush it as it passed by. Otto and I made a quarter-mile hike while Erasmus slowly followed the track.
An hour later, we were in position when we heard the distinct sound of a snapping stick. The buffalo was heading toward us, and I hoped against hope to get another shot. For the next 15 minutes, I held my breath, mentally pleading for a second opportunity.
Finally, Erasmus approached from the opposite direction indicating that the buffalo had sneaked past us and crossed a two-track 300 yards away. How such a huge beast could travel in dense brush without making a sound seemed impossible.
Each morning we traveled the two-tracks on the property looking for fresh sign. We restricted our stalks and searches to those with the wind in our faces. Buffalo fear neither man nor beast, and often flee with the wind at their rump so that they can smell what is following them. Our worst nightmare was a sudden wind shift where the bull could smell our tracking efforts and ambush us with a deadly charge.
A trail camera caught an image of the buffalo drinking at the waterhole two hours after dark on the third day of the recovery, yet my crossbow launch was the last time the animal was seen. Crawling on hands and knees was the only way to approach the buffalo, yet doing so was in invitation to disaster. Once pressured, it moved, fed, and drank at night.
Although I had hunted Cape buffalo ten years earlier, my opinion and respect for this huge animal increased dramatically. I had exploited its strategy – by drinking with other animals, it used them as bodyguards to detect danger by scent or sight.
In keeping with African tradition, a hunter who draws blood pays the trophy fee, and counting out the payment was dutifully done. “I don’t believe a brisket hit will be fatal,” Erasmus said. “I once guided a buffalo hunter who shot an arrow through the top of both lungs. I had to kill it a few days later with a rifle, and was amazed that the lungs had nearly healed in such a short time.”
Seeking another chance, I rebooked for the following year. Had the old bull learned my scent? Would it remember the hunter who harmed it? In 23 years of African bowhunting, I’d never lost an animal and I didn’t intend for this one to be the first.
Bio:
Joe Byers has been captivated by African hunting since his first trip in 1994. He is a regular contributor to the African Hunting Gazette, blogs prolifically on TheHuntingPage.com and has recently published “The Ultimate Guide to Crossbow Hunting.”
For more information on this ranch-style hunting, e-mail Rassie Erasmus at bowhunt@rassie.co.za[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”14066,14067,14068,14069,14070,14071,14072,14073,14074,14075,14076,14077,14078,14079,14080,14081″][/vc_column][/vc_row]