Aug 9, 2018 | Mammal Profile, News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Forest Elephant
Based on Chris and Mathilde Stuart’s book, “Game Animals of the World,” published by African Hunting Gazette, here’s everything hunters need to know about the Forest Elephant
English: Forest elephant
Latin: Loxodonta cyclotis
German: Waldelefant
French: Éléphant de forêt d’Afrique
Spanish: Elefante de la selva /Elefante africano de bosque
Measurements
Tail: 1.4 m (4.6‘)
Shoulder Height: Male 2.35 m (7.7’)
Female 2.1 m (6.9‘)
Weight: Male 2 800 – 3 200 kg (6 200 – 7 000 lb)
Female 1 800 – 2 500 kg (4 000 – 5 500 lb)
Description
Similar in overall appearance to the savanna elephant, but it is obviously smaller, has a narrower frame, ears that are smaller and more rounded, with tusks that are usually more slender, straighter and downward pointing. All these are adaptations to the dense nature of much of its forest habitat. The ivory is often discolored to shades of brown. As with their savanna-dwelling cousins, the tusks (upper incisors) grow both in length and weight throughout the animal’s life, although those of the cow develop very slowly after their 30th year. Long considered to be a subspecies of the savanna elephant, but recent genetic studies have clearly shown that it is a distinct species. The so-called pygmy elephant is merely a slightly smaller form of this species.
Distribution
Restricted to the equatorial forest belt, westwards from, and including, Congo (DRC) to the Gulf of Guinea, and patchily through the remaining West African forests. Trophy hunting takes place in Cameroon.
Conservation standing
Probably less than 100 000, and possibly considerably lower with the biggest populations located in Gabon, Congo Brazzaville and Congo (DRC). Because of the nature of its dense habitat it is notoriously difficult to arrive at accurate counts, except within very limited areas. Because of the difficulties, near impossibility, of physically counting forest elephant, all such attempted regional counts have involved recording numbers of dung piles within a given area. This in itself is fraught with difficulties and may result in over-estimation of elephant numbers in any given area. In the few studies undertaken it has been estimated that forest elephants make up between 50% and 90% of mammalian biomass in many African tropical forests. Unfortunately, in areas where they have been hunted out, this has had major negative impacts on the forests and their other creatures.
Habitats
A species of the tropical forest, but they commonly frequent clearings where they feed, drink, and seek out minerals in the soils. In Gabon they commonly feed along the edge of the coastline, and have even been observed wading and bathing in the shallows.
Behavior
Most observations of forest elephants have been made in forest clearings, known as bai in parts of its range, as direct observation in dense forest is extremely difficult. It is not unusual to see elephant, bongo, sitatunga, red river hogs and lowland gorillas together in the same bais. Unlike the savanna elephant they do not form into large herds, and sightings of solitary animals is much more common, although numbers do congregate in the bais. It is suspected that although foraging in the forest environment may be largely a solitary activity, loosely knit groups may remain in vocal contact over distance. The little work that has been done has shown that these elephants occupy home ranges that cover as much as 1 000 km² (386 mi²), far more than previously thought. There is also growing evidence of seasonal migrations that may be related to regional fruiting, or abundance of certain foods in different areas of the forest.
Breeding
Mating season: Probably no season, but throughout the year
Gestation: Similar to savanna elephant – on average 22 months
Number of young: 1
Birth weight: <120 kg (265 lb)
Sexual maturity: Probably similar to savanna elephant, but not studied
Longevity: No records, but probably similar to savanna elephant
Food
Wild fruits play a much more important role in the diet of the forest elephant and as such they are important dispersers of seeds, especially those of trees.
Rifles and Ammunition
Suggested Caliber: 9.3mm – .375 up. 9.3 is illegal in some countries; The .40 and larger is preferred.
Bullet: Non-expanding “solid” bullets designed for maximum penetration.
Sights: Open “express” or aperture sights preferred; low magnification scope acceptable.
Hunting Conditions: Shooting distances average 15-40 yards (14-37m).[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Aug 8, 2018 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]The global footwear market is estimated to grow to $426 billion by 2022. The boot and shoe industry is growing at 6.2% annually and is experiencing one of the longest and most profitable periods in the history of the footwear market.
To compete, industry leaders like Nike, Wolverine, Red Wing and the Thursday Boot Company are embracing high-tech automation, analytics to identify and understand customer demand and buying behavior, machine learning to automate manual processes, and digital solutions to maximize customer engagement in stores and online.
One boot company, however, has found success by doing the opposite. In fact, the company many boot and shoe experts consider to be the best in the world has a factory that can only manufacture 30 pairs of boots per day. All are made to order. The company does not keep any shoes or boots in stock. Boots require three weeks to be manufactured and the waiting time for a customer to receive his/her shipment averages three months.
Welcome to the world of The Courteney Boot Company.
The Courteney Boot Company, named after the famed explorer, hunter and conservationist, Frederick Courteney Selous, is located in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe.
I have visited Zimbabwe on multiple occasions and have traveled throughout the country. As an animal lover, especially a lover of wildlife in Africa, I do not hunt but I enjoy going on safaris to view wildlife. I especially enjoy visiting lion conservation parks where its possible to mingle with lions and walk with them at sunset. I have given many lion cubs a big smooch on the forehead only to be rewarded with the lick of a tongue that feels like sandpaper. It still takes my breath away to visit Victoria Falls, one of the 7 Natural Wonders of the World.
Gale Rice, who owns The Courteney Boot Company, learned the industry from her late husband, John Rice. John began making shoes at 15 and eventually made his way to Rhodesia (now modern-day Zimbabwe) in 1972. John is a legend in the shoe and boot industry for his design and manufacturing skills and encyclopedic knowledge of footwear and manufacturing.
John and Gale founded the company in 1991. Courteney remains committed to making high-quality boots and shoes using methods and machines first introduced more than 40 years ago. Gale is one of the few women who run a business not only in Zimbabwe, but in all of Africa.
The company utilizes relationships with select global retailers referred to as “stockists” that take orders for Courteney’s products and pass them on to the company. Courteney also sells its products online but online sales are less than 15% of the business.
(Full disclosure: I own a pair of the Classic Courteney Selous boots and I plan on ordering a pair of the Classic Courteney Scout boots.)
In the age of Amazon and Fulfillment by Amazon, readers may wonder why Gale doesn’t sell Courteney’s products through Amazon or Alibaba. On the surface, the idea makes perfect sense but in a high-volume, high-visibility marketplace like Amazon or Alibaba, Courteney’s make-to-order retail model doesn’t fit. With no plans to ever modernize the current factory, Courteney’s business model will remain untouched.
Readers may also wonder why Gale doesn’t turn to China for its manufacturing. In doing so, The Courteney Boot Company would exist in name only. The workers who are more like members of the family would lose their jobs. The factory where Gale worked side-by-side with her husband, John, would be shuttered. Boots and shoes would be shipped and sold with a “Made in China” stamp on the soles of each pair.
When I asked Gale about China, she said: “Not even worth discussing.”
Whereas the vast majority of boot and shoe manufacturers rely on leather as the primary material for its shoes, Courteney is unique in that it manufactures boots, shoes and other products using game skins. Courteney wisely created a relationship with Zimbabwe’s Department of National Parks and Wildlife when it started.
Hundreds of big-game animals die of natural causes every year in Zimbabwe. Big-game hunting is legal in Zimbabwe but the industry has seen a severe reduction in customers in recent years. Most big-game hunting camps use the meat but rarely use the skins. Courteney sources hippo, crocodile, ostrich, impala, and Cape buffalo skins from conservation agencies, safari companies, rural district village councils and game parks. Unless Courteney sources the skins, the skins are left to rot or are thrown away.
What Does The Future Hold?
On July 30, Zimbabwe will hold its first election without Robert Mugabe, Zimbabwe’s leader since it declared independence in 1980, on the ballot. In a country wracked by poverty and one of the weakest economies in all of Africa, there is palatable excitement at the idea of electing a leader that can return Zimbabwe to its glory days.
For many companies in Zimbabwe, time stood still once independence was gained. Government corruption resulted in lost business and a mass exit of many businesses to other countries in Africa and Europe. Land grabs by the government resulted in many wealthy and educated citizens leaving the country. A country revered for its agriculture and manufacturing prowess became a shell of its former self.
It will take more than an election to cure the ails of Zimbabwe.
As for Gale, her plan is to do as she has always done—focus on the customer. Gale understands that rulers will come and go but that quality and style never go out of fashion. There will always be a market and a need for The Courteney Boot Company and the company will live on.
Brittain Ladd is a globally recognized thought leader on strategy, M&A, and business.
I am recognized globally as a thought leader and expert in digital supply chain management, Business Model Transformation, e-commerce, cross-border trade, operations, omni-channel retail and strategy. I have hands-on experience living and working in India, China, Latin Ameri.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Aug 7, 2018 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Uganda 2018
By Jofie Lamprecht
As I descended through the clouds to land in Nairobi, I finally understood why Ernest Hemingway called his famous book The Green Hills of Africa. The swelling and shifting cumulonimbus clouds floated over these green hills about which so much is written and romanticized by those who coined and made the word “safari” famous. For me, this was just a layover on the way to a destination referred to by Winston Churchill as the “Pearl of Africa”, the old stomping grounds of Idi Amin.
Fast forward a week. I was overlooking the spectacular vista of the eight Virunga Volcanoes – one glowingly active, the highest volcano towering 15,000 feet on the horizon. A fire was crackling in the hearth to keep out the cold at 7,000 feet, and soothe a sore body after the previous day’s trek – a whole day with the incredible gorillas. It was one of those ‘bucket-list’ items many have on their list and, sadly, few ever realize.
Jim and I have known each other since 2004. With six Namibian safaris, both hunting and photographic, Tanzania and now Uganda. Jim has had the privilege of hunting all of the Big Five, and six of the Dangerous Seven. His excuse for not shooting a crocodile was that “my house is full – and I am NOT moving.” He has fulfilled his African hunting aspirations, and at 69 is still in love with the continent, and wants to explore more of it.
I arrived in Entebbe – the original capital of Uganda – at 22:00 on the first night, sans check-in luggage. The lights of the plentiful bars lit the streets, the presidential palace illuminating the night sky, overpowering and unnecessary. I was happy to see Jim at our guesthouse for a nightcap before the safari started in earnest the following day.
The morning light brought the sound of beautiful birdlife. Birds a-plenty with common names that I knew, but not the specific sub-species. After a hearty and very healthy breakfast we made our way to the airport to fly to our destination.
Our accommodations were high up on the hill with a spectacular view sweeping over the plains and the seemingly endless Lake Victoria below.
“Any hippo or crocs in Lake Victoria?” I asked our driver.
“Yes… there are a few crocs, but if they are seen they are saved and taken to the zoo!” This was not the answer I wa expecting. With my vehement distaste for zoos, I was not impressed that these animals were incarcerated for the rest of their lives just for being where they naturally belong.
A scheduled flight took us over a very rural and agricultural Uganda to Kasese. Jim and I were both surprised to see that all we flew over was agricultural land – small plots cut into the red Ugandan soil with a multitude of different crops growing in the fertile soil, subsistence agriculture supplying most of the food for the population. Forty-two million people inhabit this country, a third the size of my native Namibia. The country is 241,038 km² (150,000 miles2). (Three times smaller than Texas.) On a firm grass landing strip we were met by our driver and guide, Mali.
There are two types of roads in Uganda – bad and worse. The asphalt version has giant potholes in it, and speeding is next to impossible. And then you hit the speed bumps, just to slow you down a little more. Scheduled flights are both affordable and strongly recommended to save you from the worst of these roads.
We spent our first night on the edge of an extinct volcanic crater lake at the foot of the Rwenzori Mountains. I loved the quaint and very different lodge, and understood why it was built where it was, and the vision that the owners had when building it, with the mist, the sun, the clouds, and the view. A real treat was their homemade goats-cheese and locally sourced honey. In the afternoon, we explored the nearby village.
In Uganda one has to pre-book permits to see both chimpanzees and gorillas – and there are two options – trekking and habituation. Trekking simply means a hike in, have about an hour with the primates, and then the hike out. Habituation is a much more intense hike in, finding the primates and spending several hours with them, watching them interact, feed and just being the primates they are.
For both chimpanzees and gorillas we opted for the habituation experience, and bought permits for both trips.
In the black pre-dawn we followed the lights of the Cruiser as we bounced our way down the road to Kibale Forest National Park. The rural subsistence farming world of Uganda was slowly lit with a soft light of the early sun.
Civilization would suddenly stop, and one was immediately plunged into pristine wilderness.
The road improved, and there was evidence of elephant and other animals. In the eerie pre-dawn, the forest looked dark and mystical, waiting to share its secrets with us – but only after some trekking on foot.
We met our armed park ranger for the day, a cheerful Jennifer, an old AK-47 slung over her shoulder as we started our trek into the forest. She occasionally used the weapon as a walking stick, barrel down. With the smells of the wet soil, the drops of water constant like rain, it was like no place I had ever been, a place where fairy tales are set – with trees displaced by forest elephant. Vibrant, colorful butterflies of every variety were everywhere. Unseen birds were vocal in the canopy through which rays of sunshine streamed.
The trees were enormous. At a particularly big tree with a yellow trunk, figs rained down from above – our first chimp sighting. We spent some time looking straight up, catching glimpses of them as they moved about picking fruit.
With stiff necks, we followed Jennifer in a different direction and found a large troop of chimps in low trees. Our habituation started in earnest – as did the photography. It was a thrilling experience to spend time with these interesting animals, especially when the dominant male made a brief appearance by climbing down the tree and walking among us.
The swiftly flowing brown flood waters of the Ishasha River gurgled by our tented camp set on its banks. Topi and Ugandan kob were plentiful. We saw seven magnificent small tree-climbing lions with distended bellies, snoozing in a fig tree,. The bird life was incredible – something I truly enjoy.
The river ran red with clay, high on the banks, swollen, its tributaries adding to its girth. Several pods of hippo were submerged in the shallow water.
In the distance, bordering the Congo, lay the daunting snow-capped Rwenzori Mountains with summits reaching 17,000 feet.
On leaving the Ishasha River area we encountered several elephant bulls. It was interesting to see both forest and savannah, in the same herd, interacting and living together – the forest elephant with their smaller physique, straight, almost translucent ivory and smaller heads, and the savannah with their gigantic bodies, curved ivory and massive heads. The transition area for this subspecies, is in the savannah plains of Uganda, and seeing this was one of the highlights of my trip.
“I survived the road up to the clouds”, is what the T-shirt should say. The road up the mountain passes was rough. Very, very rough. Cut into the side of the mountains down to the bedrock, the road was hard and bumpy. When it rained, red soil slid down the side of the steep embankments, making them slippery. We climbed from 4000 feet to over 7000, with sheer drops that looked twice as high as they really were, and there were no guard rails.
Our final lodge for this trip was literally in the clouds. A place of peace and tranquility. A place meant for recovery from the physical challenges of gorilla trekking.
On a misty morning we were given our briefing in the southern end of Bwindi Impenetrable Forest and introduced to our police and military armed escort, guide, trackers and porters. April is the rainy season in Uganda, with ground slick underfoot and many streams to cross. Physically it was challenging with the up-and-down, slip and slide, high altitude and the crossing of streams – all of this exertion to see some of the 850 highland gorillas that remain in the wild.
After three hours of the forest’s slow torture, we climbed a hill covered in foot-grabbing vines, rounded a bush and there was a juvenile gorilla, reclining on a branch looking at me, as if bored, waiting for our appearance. The walk forgotten, camera gear was spread out and covered under rain ponchos, and the photo session began.
I had no idea we could get so close. Being six feet from a 450lb silverback, with its head the size of a colossal cannon ball, is intimidating, I don’t care who you are!
I inched forward, expecting to be attacked at any second. The trekking team was ready, and I settled in to get my shots. Completely habituated, we were able to move as freely as the vines let us around these amazing animals. After an hour a mother with a newborn moved towards the silverback from thick cover. The different interactions were amazing – the tenderness when the baby came close to the massive figure of the dominant male; the reaction of the female when she disapproved of her man’s actions, swinging backhanded at the male, not hitting him, but resulting in him throwing his hands up in the air and falling theatrically on his back. There was another female with a snare-damaged hand.
Plan your trip to Uganda. It is worth the terrible roads and speed bumps, and the multiple police searches at the airport. The lodges and people are incredible, the food fantastic and the scenery truly amazing. The wildlife that coexists in the islands of remaining sanctuary is absolutely worth the trip. These animals exist, squeezed by human over-population into the last areas of this enchanted impenetrable forest.
And this wildlife will not exist if it has no value, so your trip will help keep these wild places wild.
A trip of a lifetime for me. I cannot wait to return.
Namibian-born Jofie is a licensed PH in both plains-game and dangerous-game hunting in Namibia, proud to uphold the traditions of ethical and fair-chase hunting, loving to walk Namibia’s varied terrain, from desert to high mountains to sub-tropical environments. He works hard to get his hunters close to the game, enjoys sharing his country’s wildlife and unique
environment with visitors, and has a special place in his heart for the children who come on safari. Jofie is based in Namibia’s capital city, Windhoek.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”16662,16665,16661,16660″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Aug 6, 2018 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Namibia: 2017
A Namibian Eland – a father daughter hunt
By Sydney Pendergast
At the age of thirteen I killed my first elk. That cold November morning, which I remember clearly, began a new, lifelong love for hunting and the outdoors, a “hunting bug” fueled by my father who has enjoyed hunting here in our home state of Montana for over 37 years. His lifelong dream was to take a hunting trip to Africa, and as my senior year of high school came to a close, his lifelong dream would become a reality.
After months of careful planning, we took a father daughter trip to Namibia, to spend eight days hunting with Jamy Traut Safaris. We got on a plane in Montana, and within 24 hours were on the other side of the world. In many ways, I had no idea what to expect. When we met our guide Jaco, he suggested we each make a list of the animals we would most like to hunt. I was open-minded, since we were unsure of what we would see and what we would have the opportunity to hunt. However, when we arrived at our camp and were relaxing in the lodge, I got a better idea of what would interest me – I noticed an iPad set up with a slideshow of some of the impressive trophy animals taken by other clients. I became particularly intrigued with pictures of a massive yellowish animal. Jaco told me that it was an eland. After watching the slideshow several times, and focusing on the eland, I decided that that was what I wanted most to hunt.
It was the fourth day of my hunting trip in Namibia. Eland are the largest antelope in Africa, and I thought that their size would make them easy to spot, but the old bull that we had been hunting had proved to be difficult. Two days previously my father and I shot two animals each – a hartebeest and a gemsbok for me, and a wildebeest and a springbok for him. We felt very blessed to have been able to come to Namibia and experience such great hunting, hunting vastly different from anything that we would experience at home.
We had searched for a specific eland bull an entire day without sight of him, but were lucky enough to run into some giraffe. In Namibia, at least at Panorama Camp, it seems almost impossible to go out hunting without seeing such varied wildlife and so much of it.
We start our eland hunt today. Everyone has a good feeling about it. Panda, a brilliant tracker, keeps an eye out for eland tracks at one of the waterholes where we had started bright and early following an eland herd. From the spoor, Panda points out that there is a large bull, the bull that we have been searching for. It is impressive to watch Panda and Stephanis tracking. They know which tracks are from what species and how long ago they were made. They have no problem identifying and following those of the large bull, in spite of the countless tracks from different animals all crisscrossing the trail.
We end up walking quietly along for two or three hours, me wondering what is in store. The eland, because of their size, can travel a great distance in no time at all, and it is obvious that we are far behind. If they do not stop, we won’t be able to find them. Soon the sun is blazing down, and I am sweating, pestered by a fly, its persistent buzzing the only sound apart from our soft footfalls in the red sand. Suddenly, Jaco spots something. We strain to see, peering through our binoculars, and Panda climbs a tree for a better view. We finally see a herd on a sand dune very far away, and decide to take the truck to get closer, and then realize that it is the very herd we have been seeking. The bull is with them!
As soon as we got close enough we began our stalk. There were several eland visible, standing on the top of a sand dune near some trees. We had some cover from trees and small bushes, but there was also a lot of open space. We would have to crawl a long way to get close enough to them, while using the scarce cover to avoid being spotted.
As we began to approach, walking hunched over at first, we realized that there was a lone gemsbok standing under a tree between us and the eland. He stared at us before deciding to run off, fortunately heading away from the herd. We were all relieved – he could so easily have spoilt our hunt. We continued, moving very slowly, and at noon we decided to sit under a bush and wait, hoping that during the hot part of the day, the eland would relax and settle.
I lay back on the prickly African grass trying to calm down. I had sore knees and aching back, and several cuts on my hands from crawling through the bush. I was nervous, but the sun on my face and the peaceful silence helped me unwind. Hunting takes much patience. Finally, after moving along again slowly for a half an hour, we settled behind a bush around 240 yards away from our target. We couldn’t get much closer without being spotted.
Jaco set up a tripod, and I put my gun on it, kneeling for the shot. The bull was massive, with very worn-down horns and a face that had become bluish-gray with age. He stood broadside, then moved behind a tree before I could get a shot. He makes me wait. There was a cow in front of him, and another lying in the shade of a tree 30 yards to his right. The hot sun is in my eyes, and I was covered in a thin layer of sweat and dust. I took some deep breaths and readied myself, waiting to get a good shot.
Through the scope I watched him stand on his hind legs to pick some leaves off a tree. It seemed like ages. Finally, he is in my crosshairs; the bright afternoon sunlight is shining on my scope. I stop breathing. Time seemed to slow down as I squeezed the trigger. I heard the sound that I was hoping for, as my bullet hit him solidly. He disappeared over the sand dune with the rest of the herd. By the time they made it to the other side, we were on the top of the dune with guns ready. He was weakening fast, and the rest of the eland were moving steadily away. Finally, he just stopped, I shot once more, and he fell. The one that we had been searching for was dead at my feet. A picture cannot do such a powerful animal justice. As we took photos in the hot Namibian sun, I once again felt truly blessed to be able to experience such a trip. I could not have been happier with the hunt.
That day, and for the rest of my safari at the Panorama Camp, I was reminded again and again of the impressive beauty and power of nature. In Namibia, a hunter can experience an adventure that is truly unparalleled. Each hunt was a fulfilling experience for both of us. Over our eight days I took a hartebeest, a gemsbok, an eland, and a waterbuck. My father got a black wildebeest, a hartebeest, a gemsbok, a kudu, and even an ostrich. He also had time to bowhunt, taking two springbok with a recurve.
But it was not just the trophies that made our safari so special. On the first day we had met a group of strangers – by the end of the week our hosts felt like family. We spent our days hunting with Jaco and Stefanis. At night we gathered around the dinner table, eating and talking for hours with the family and friends, exchanging stories, getting to know each other more and more.
It was difficult to say goodbye. On our last day in Namibia, we promised all the special people we had met that we would return someday. Although we live halfway across the world, we had started to feel at home hunting on the plains of Namibia. We dream of going back someday, as soon as possible. As I look back on my trip to Africa, I am thankful to have been fortunate enough to have had such a wonderful experience. I hope that one day soon my father and I will have another chance to watch the sunset in Namibia.
Bio:
Sydney is currently a pre-pharmacy major at the University of Montana in Missoula MT. Along with hunting, she enjoys lifting weights, skiing, and (sometimes) going running. She likes to read books and also spend time with friends she made in college. When she graduates from college, Sydney hopes to take her Dad on a trip back to Namibia to celebrate![/vc_column_text][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”16497,16496,16495,16494,16493,16492″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Aug 3, 2018 | News, WingShooting
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Is Southern Africa the New Argentina?
By Ken Bailey
For years, dedicated dove and pigeon hunters seeking high-volume shooting opportunities have descended annually en masse to Argentina. Just uttering the word “Córdoba” brings knowing grins to the face of legions of enthusiastic wingshooters. And why wouldn’t it, as that province in north-central Argentina is the acknowledged capital of dove hunting, where daily bags of 1000 birds or more per day are possible, if not common, for those willing to put in the time, energy and investment.
I know firsthand how Argentina garnered its reputation, having visited and hunted there a few years ago and experiencing the best of that country’s dove and pigeon hunting. Stopping in for “a quick little shoot” on the way from the airport to the lodge, as one example, I knocked down 340 Eared doves in just a couple hours. I must say, it was an exhilarating beginning. The next day I shot 800 or so, with several handfuls of squawking, green parakeets, another agricultural pest, thrown in for good measure. Had I been so inclined to extend my shooting, 1000 on the ground for the day was a definite possibility.
As much as I enjoyed my hunt in Argentina, however, I found it do be a “one and done” experience; I have no burning desire to go back. After three days of shooting, with the novelty having worn off, I’d lost my edge. I wasn’t leaping out of bed to get back on day four. In fact, by then I was actually getting a little bored with it all. And I’m not alone in this assessment. I’ve talked to others who enjoyed their Argentina dove hunting experience but who harbour no urgency to return.
Still, Argentina remains the world’s most popular dove and pigeon hunting destination, particularly among North Americas. Slowly but surely, however, South Africa, and to a lesser extent Namibia, are gaining a dedicated following of hunters seeking a more diverse and rewarding dove and pigeon hunting experience.
To be sure, there are both remarkable similarities and stark differences between Argentina’s and southern Africa’s dove and pigeon hunting. Let’s examine a few of them.
Shooting Volume
When you visit Argentina, it’s all a numbers game. A bird boy sits beside you as you shoot, ensuring you always have your next box of shells at the ready while he keeps a running tally of the birds that fall. 500+ bird days are pretty standard, even for average shooters. 1000 doves is just a matter of putting in the requisite hours, as the birds don’t stop flying through the daylight hours. And for those hell bent on running up the score, I suppose 1500 – 2000 birds isn’t out of the question.
By those standards, South Africa can’t compete, but 300 – 500 birds per day is certainly possible, and for most of us, that’s enough. Robbie Stretton of Stormberg Elangeni Safaris (www.sesafaris.com) says they’ve had several pigeon/dove hunting safaris this year and have averaged 750 – 1000 birds per day for their groups. Similarly, Reiner Linde of Legelela Safaris (www.legelelasafaris.co.za) says that eager hunters at his camp will shoot more than 750 rounds daily. If you assume a 50 – 60% success rate, that’s 375 – 450 pigeons.
Species Diversity
If there’s one word that summarizes Africa’s wildlife, it’s “diversity”, and their doves and pigeons are no exception. Cape Turtle doves, Laughing doves, Red-eyed doves and Namaqua doves are the most common, depending upon where you hunt, although there are another four or five dove species present in the region. As to pigeons, Rock, Speckled and Rameron species are most common.
Argentina doesn’t boast as broad an assortment; you’ll shoot Eared doves exclusively, along with Rock and, possibly, Picazuro pigeons. If variety turns your crank, southern Africa certainly has the upper hand.
Get beyond the dove and pigeon family and you’ll find both Africa and Argentina have excellent waterfowling that can be added to your hunt. It’s tough to make a distinction between the two, actually, as both offer great abundance and diversity of species, but one of the great attractions in African waterfowling is the Spur-winged goose, generally acknowledged as the largest species of goose in the world. To some, size matters.
For upland bird hunters, Argentina offers perdiz, a partridge-like bird that comes in several varieties. Renowned for exploding suddenly out of the grass and getting beyond range quickly, seasoned shotgunners love this little bird.
The African counterpart to the perdiz is the francolin, or spurfowl; again, several different species are present and all offer gunners an exciting and challenging experience. But Africa being Africa, it doesn’t end there. Those seeking upland birds also have their choice of a handful of quail and buttonquail species. Sandgrouse, which are more pigeon that grouse, are numerous where they’re found, with Namibia a popular destination. And the pièce de résistance is the ubiquitous guineafowl, a bird with an odd mix of characteristics. For North Americans, think equal parts wild turkey and pheasant, with both the best and most challenging attributes of each. It’s an absolute “must-do” hunt, either walk-up or driven.
Other Hunting Opportunities
This is simply not a fair fight. No part of the world has the number and variety of big game animals found in Africa, period. Better still, most African bird hunting outfitters will gladly tee you up for a crack at a springbok, impala, kudu, zebra, or just about any other species of common African wildlife you care to hunt, generally on the same properties – or very close by – to where you’re hunting birds. It’s only the Big Five and a small handful of other species that are somewhat difficult to add to a bird hunt. Trust me on this – if you’re an avid big-game hunter who’s not hunted Africa previously, you won’t be able to stop yourself from carving a day or two out of your bird-hunting activities to pursue one or more of the many iconic species you’re sure to see.
Argentina has some excellent big-game hunting, but in comparison the number of available species is significantly fewer. Further, most often you’ll have to travel a considerable distance from the prime dove hunting grounds to get into quality big-game country.
Food and Lodging
My personal experience is limited to one trip to Argentina, while I’ve been to more than a dozen lodges in southern Africa, but it’s clear to me that the Argentinians have borrowed from the African playbook.
I’ve never had a bad experience as far as food and lodgings go in Africa – quite simply, they look after visiting hunters at a level that sets the bar for hunting lodges around the world. Invariably the food is both plentiful and superb, the local wines are exquisite, the beer eminently drinkable, and the rooms are always immaculate and comfortable. I should live so luxuriously at home! Daily laundry service is one of the great pleasures of most camps, and the staff are generally friendly and helpful to a fault. In short, African hospitality is near impossible to top.
If any destination comes close, however, based upon my experience and discussions I’ve had with others who’ve hunted there, it’s Argentina. Once again, the food and lodging are first-class, and their malbec wines need little introduction to those who enjoy the grape. So if you enjoy being pampered, you’ll get more than your share of attention whether you hunt Africa or Argentina.
Getting There
For most North Americans, whether travelling to Argentina or southern Africa, at least two long flights are in order. I live in Edmonton. When I hunted Argentina I went via Minneapolis, then Atlanta, on to Buenos Aries, then another two-hour flight into dove country. A day and a half all-in, however you cut it. I’m flying to South Africa later this week – Edmonton to Calgary, then to Amsterdam and, from there, down to Johannesburg. Again, a day and a half.
There’s simply no escaping the fact that both destinations involve considerable travel for many of us. From some parts of the U.S., a long day may do it to either destination. The perception among many, however, is that southern Africa is a lot further away than Argentina, or at least takes a whole lot longer to get to, but that’s not the case. Pack a book, your iPod, a pillow and some patience, and you’ll be in either place before you know it.
Costs
On a dedicated bird hunt, costs are pretty similar between the two destinations. Daily fees are very reasonable in both – not much different from lodging and dining at your local Hilton. Shells tend to be the greatest expense whenever you’re high-volume shooting. Fortunately, quality ammunition is available in both locations and you can expect to pay about the same, somewhere in the $12 – $14 per box range.
Summary
When you compare Argentina to southern Africa as a high-volume dove/pigeon destination, you’ll find that travel, service, food and lodging, and overall costs are very similar. You’ll likely shoot more birds in Argentina, important if numbers are your primary objective. Where Africa shines is in the variety it offers – the number of species of doves/pigeons is greater, the array of additional game birds is broader, and the other hunting opportunities are immeasurably more. Further, there’s no substitute for the African backdrop – when you’re hunting birds it’s not unusual to see any one of a dozen species of antelope or other recognizable African wildlife. For my money, the natural sights and sounds of Africa are unequalled anywhere in the world.
Africa has not been marketed as a bird-hunting destination to the extent that Argentina has, and today is considered by most knowledgeable accounts to be one of hunting’s best-kept secrets. If you’re a passionate wingshooter, you owe it to yourself to hunt southern Africa. But be forewarned: nothing in Africa bites quite like Africa herself. You won’t go just once.[/vc_column_text][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”16486,16487,16488,16489,16490,16491″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Aug 2, 2018 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Crouching Lion, Hidden Hunters…
By Thomas Newcomb
I had always heard that you are never afraid when a lion charged you! It happens so fast, you react instinctively and won’t have time to get nervous. I had been charged by several Cape buffalo, and chased by more elephants than I can count, but never by a lion, so I had no reason to argue. In all previous encounters, the faster they happened, the less the stress. To me, there is nothing worse than waiting outside a hopeless tangle of vegetation for the buffalo you’d just shot to weaken or die before you go look for him. It’s the waiting that is hard.
My wife Vickie and I had traveled to Tanzania. There we met up with my old hunting partner Natie Oelofse. We had been on many safaris with Natie. We met him in 1990 on our second safari, a rhino hunt in South Africa, followed by an exploratory hunt to Mozambique in the Marromeu Delta. We were the first hunters to be allowed there after the war between the Frelimo and Renamo factions had finished killing each other. With all the excitement and danger we faced on that hunt, we became fast friends. When we weren’t hunting together, Natie and his wife Corné would spend time at our house in Tennessee, and we would visit at their home in Arusha.
I didn’t keep track, but we had probably been on at least 10 safaris together. We had killed the Big Five and many buffalo. Now we were on the track of what we hoped was a big bull elephant. Natie had bought the Wengert Windrose Safari Company. As the owner and the boss, he could do what we wanted as long as we obeyed the Tanzanian game laws. And what we wanted was a good adventure to spend with our wives, and both Corné and Vickie were accomplished big-game hunters and wing shots.
We set off in our Land Cruiser with our wives, Kariba, Natie’s fearless hawk-eyed tracker, a cook, and a skinner. We were traveling light and fast. Our Land Cruiser was full of fuel, a drum of water, rice, and cornmeal, beer and Scotch. We would shoot game for meat. Robert Ruark would be proud. My wife had a 21-day license. At that time you could shoot three buffalo, a leopard, a lion, and an elephant among all the usual plains game. We had hunted for 10 days or so, gradually getting used to the 10-15 miles a day you put in tracking and running from elephants. Anyone that has hunted elephants probably knows what I’m talking about.
My wife’s rifle of choice was a Winchester Model .70 African .375 H&H with which I have seen her shoot a running guinea fowl. My rifle and Natie’s were always the same. We each had .470 SxS from Austria, .416 Remington Mags from Conco Arms, and SxS Browning 20 gauge shotguns for sandgrouse. In the States we each carried a Glock 23. We thought if something went bump in the night we could grab whatever weapon was closest and know how it worked.
It was a typical day in the Selous, cold first thing in the morning. We got up from our fly camp, had a breakfast of ugali (a local porridge) and coffee, and headed off to find a big bull elephant. Riding in the back of the Land Cruiser we wore gloves, sweaters, and scarves. A couple of hours later we were down to T-shirts. We had stalked probably 10 bulls in the first 10 days, only to get in a good shooting position and decide they were too small, hence illegal. Very exciting, but very frustrating. When we very close to elephants, Natie made us take off our shoes, and stalk closer in just socks. My first thought was if I had to run I would get thorns in my feet. And I was right, but I never noticed them until I was safely seated back in the Land Cruiser, after running madly from enraged cow elephants.
It was while we were stalking what we hoped would be a good bull elephant that we saw a large lion dart off into the high grass about 100 yards from us. We were so intent on seeing the tusks on the elephant, we had not seen him until he ran. We made a mental note to check out the lion if the elephant turned out to not be a shooter – which he wasn’t – so we went back to where the lion was when we last saw him. And in the high grass we found a dead buffalo cow the lion had been feeding on.
“He’ll be back, we’ll wait,” said Natie. We backed up from the dead cow across a little clearing. We couldn’t see the buffalo, but we could see most of the angles the cat would have to approach from, so we sat in the shade under a tree to wait. Once we sat down, we couldn’t see anything – the grass was too high! What to do?
“I’ll climb the tree,” Natie said to me. “You wait at the bottom with the girls, and when the lion comes back you stand up, put up the shooting sticks, and Vic can shoot it.” OK, there was no other way. Natie’s .470 was at the base of the tree, with him squatting in the fork like a big baboon. Vic, Corné, Kariba, and I were lying in the grass at the base of the tree. We waited about an hour.
“Thomas, he’s back,” Natie hissed from above. I looked at my wife.
“Are you ready?” She nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. I have never seen her afraid. We stood, and I put up the shooting sticks. She rested the .375 on them.
“Can you see him?” I asked. The lion was facing broadside and tearing at the buffalo hide. She nodded. “Yes, should I shoot?” “Wait until he is still, then fire.”
She waited a few seconds. Then the lion had his two front paws on the side of the buffalo. We could see him clearly, his chest and shoulders fully exposed. He turned his head toward us and it seemed as if those yellow eyes looked right at us.
“Shoot him,” I said. The .375 boomed and the cat jumped straight up in the air like a frightened house cat. That’s when I made a mistake. I fired my .470 at the lion while he was in the air, and missed. When the cat hit the ground he knew where we were, and who had hurt him. He was now coming for us.
My wife’s first shot had broken his left shoulder. He hit the ground running straight to us, growling with every bound. Natie was in the tree yelling, “Wait Tom, wait!” He knew I only had one round left in my double and it would have to be our last chance when the lion was on us, but my wife’s .375 cracked again. The lion kept coming. He was charging toward us, but fortunately his left leg was flopping because his left shoulder was broken. Again the .375 went off while Natie was still yelling, “Wait, Tom, wait!” Vic had hit the lion, but he was still coming.
All our practice and experience was paying off. Vic never took the rifle from her shoulder and was working the bolt. Again the .375 went off and this time the cat faltered, turning on his side, and Vic hit him again. It was over. Natie jumped out of the tree and the three of us cautiously approached the now still lion. He was gone. We all heaved sighs of relief.
I remember reading a story once where at SCI an old PH was listening to new PHs discussing where you shoot a charging lion. One young boy said you aim at the bottom of his chest, while another said no, you aim at the black of the nose. The discussion went on and on, until the old PH, having heard all he could stand, walked over to the new guys and asked, “Have either of you ever seen a charging lion?” They both sheepishly said, “No.” The old PH smiled. “When the lion charges, you aim at the front and keep shooting,” he said.
I think he was right. We recreated the event from the tracks in the sand. Vic’s first shot was at 60 yards and she made a perfect shoulder shot, breaking the left shoulder. When I shot and missed, the lion came for us on three legs and covered 10 yards per bound. He made four leaps towards us and dropped at around 20 steps from us. Vic had hit him twice as he charged, the first around the edges of the hips, and the second was a good frontal chest shot. When he rolled over the final time, I had shot him through the spine for insurance.
The whole event may have taken 10 seconds, if that. Vic’s hands never shook until we started to take pictures. The adrenaline pump, was over and now she could relax. We all could. Natie summed it up: “The best day of your life you never want to do again.”[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”16648,16647,16646,16645″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
