African Hunting Stories

[Skinny Tire AH]

Some of you may or may not remember, I used to write for 2 African hunting publications, "Safari" and "The African Hunter".

I lost interest in submitting articles because the editors would change my words, add or remove things that completely changed the heart and soul of the piece. However, I've never lost this gut burning passion to tell my story. This story has not been submitted to any publications. There are probably numerous punctuation and grammatical errors. The publications editors catch those things first pass. They also feel the need and take editorial liberties and change the entire feel.

This first article is called "The Elands" It chronicles a 20 year span of hunting Africa's 4 Eland species.

Please enjoy. I hope you can feel as though I've brought you along on this journey.

 

[Dalton]

looking forward to this, africa is not as “plug and play” as some vacation spots, but hard to beat once figured out.

 

[Skinny Tire AH]

The Elands…

I began my African hunting in earnest, in 1999. As for many, I hunted in South Africa. My first foray into African Safari hunting was a plains game hunt was a package called “The Magnificent Seven.” It was, Impala, Kudu, Bushbuck, Warthog, Zebra, Steinbok and Blesbok.

I purchased the Safari at the SCI show in Reno, 1998. I bought it from Phillip Bronkhorst Safaris. I had a wonderful trip and as with many, I was hooked. I actually rebooked before l got back to the airport for the trip home.

The following year, I hunted a bunch of typical second Safari stuff to include a Cape Eland.

After returning home, I wanted to expand my African hunting into the wild and untamed Africa, I knew was still there. I employed the expertise of John Barth of Adventure Unlimited. John spent much time with me and we came up with a plan that made sense on how to move my hunting, throughout Africa. We booked a Safari to Zambia for Sitatunga, Roan, Blue Duiker and…The Livingstone Eland.

The Safari was with Muchinga Adventures. The hunt was conducted in their Tondwa concession which is a remote little piece of Africa in the far North Eastern corner, right up by DRC and Tanzania, on the Southwest corner of Lake Tanganyika. I had a young, energetic PH named Terry Von Royen.

The Safari was great, I killed a Sitatunga, a Roan, a representative Blue Duiker and my Livingstone Eland. The Eland hunt was proper Eland tracking. We saw the herd run across the track early in the morning. We departed the cruiser on foot. The tracking was difficult, we followed trough long grass, fields of rock, Savanna and Mopane forest.

We finally caught them at water, sometime around mid-day. I was presented a longish shot, I put my .375HH upon the sticks and had collected the second of four Elands. I believe that was 2004.

For the next 5-6 years I hunted Lions, Leopards, Elephants and a myriad of Buffaloes and PG species throughout Africa.

I had always had my eye on the Central African Republic (CAR) and its long list of exotic and endemic species and its unique environment. In December of 2012, I found myself in Bangui, CAR with a 21-day Safari license in hand. The company I hunted with, Central African Wildlife Adventures or CAWA has one of the very few areas that one can hunt Bongo and Lord Derby Eland (LDE) in one safari.

Incidentally, the entire Safari team; Clients and PH’s flew in from Paris, CDG, together. I was to hunt with Mike Fell. On the flight in, we were able to discuss my desires and priorities. As for most folks, Bongo and Eland were the most desired of all. My hunt being late December, early January would ensure the LDE would be dressed in their long, elegant, rutting black mane.

A short drive from the airstrip found us at camp Kocho, on the banks of the Kocho river. If a more peaceful place exists on Earth, I’ve yet to see it. It is truly old Africa here. Highly French West Africa influenced. It is remote, as remote as anywhere I’ve been in Africa. It is three days drive from Bangui.

The owner, Erik Mararv runs a nice operation and spotless camp. All the furniture is made on site with local African hardwoods. The ambiance of the Bako’s (River Forests) is in stark contrast to the hot and dry Savanna, which oddly, is only a step or two away. You literally walk from Savanna to Bako in one or two steps.

Mike and I would begin our Safari in Kocho camp. The other two clients, a married team were to drive another eight hours on to Mbari camp, on the Mbari river. It is affectionately known as “Bongo” camp.

Distances here are far, much longer than hunting in East Africa. I have never spent so much of my day just getting to where the hunting would commence. Accordingly, we arose and ate early and got home proportionately late. No camp life to speak of, eat, sleep…start over the next morning.

The first hunting day we drove to a few “Salines” (natural salt licks) the animals seem to really gather at these and you will occasionally catch some game animal at one either licking or actually eating the salty soil.

I believe it was the second saline we checked. There had been a large herd of Eland here earlier. Not knowing what was in the herd, we began to follow. The tracking is mostly fast, following a herd of over 100 animals the size of an Eland you’d believe to be easy and stay easy. However, there were times they seem to simply vanish into the hot African bush. Conversely there were times the entire herd had walked through a burn, leaving tracks that anyone could follow. It was as if we were following muddy footprints across white carpet.

Tracking Lord Derby’s Eland requires dedication, if you stop to rest, they continue on, extending their lead. We continued at a good pace up until dark, we began to catch them and actually could see bits and pieces of a few animals through the Terminalia Trees. It was then, at that moment I caught my first look at the Lord Derby Eland.

He is tall, taller than you may think. It struck me that this bull was as tall as a Moose. They seem to effortlessly glide along with a graceful trot. They are clothed in a smooth coat of tawny elegance with vertical bars of flowing white silk, combining into nothing short of hot buttered rum. The bull’s mane was long and black as ebony.

I was forever changed. The vision before me was more than I had ever read about. I was hunting the Holy Grail of all the Antelopes in what to me was “The Garden of Eden.” I felt unworthy as to my place in this moment. I firmly remember thinking, this must be the most spectacular hunting trophy on this planet.

We were not able to sort them out and lost to the light. We had a two hour walk back to the cruiser as there are very few hunting roads here. After getting back to the cruiser, we still had two hours of rough Africa back to camp Kocho. Late dinner, off to bed.

The next hunting day began where we ended our tracking the previous evening. We tracked fast, long and hard. We followed through open hot savanna, we followed through hopelessly long fields of long grass, huge “lakerie’s” (rock fields). They seemed to moved with a mission, never stopping. They seemed to feed as they moved, still not stopping. We would drink, eat while tracking, knowing if we stopped, they would stretch their lead. All this with the Eland unaware of our pursuit. As with day one, we caught them right around dusk, with the same results.

We repeated this process every single day. We would begin our day where the previous one ended.

Day 5 of the Safari started no different than any of the previous. We drove as close to the end of the last evenings tracking and began. Mike and I were both fit, Mike from long hunting days and myself from 25 years of riding and racing bicycles. I was prepared for whatever and however long this would go on.

Not long into the tracking, we came across a herd of Lewel’s Hartebeest. It was one of my animals and this herd had a bruiser of a bull that Mike didn’t think we should pass on. I short stalk and one shot had him down.

Now what? We’re on track of LDE and have to deal with this animal. Our driver walked back to the cruiser. The hunting party skinned and quartered the animal. We had finished about the same time the cruiser made its way back to us. We made the decision to hide the meat and cape in a cool stream within one of the countless Bako’s, every one seemed to have a clean, cool small river or stream.

With that behind us, we continued on with the tracking, knowing this cost us precious time we would need to make up. The time was about 10AM.

We had been going a couple hours if memory serves me right. We were just leaving some thick bush and crossing into yet another lakerie. As we emerged, the lead tracker stopped and pointed at three Roan bulls. Roan were also on contract and I did want one. As I rose my binos to have a look at the Roan, Mike grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, now looking 90 degrees to the left. We had caught them. Before us, was the herd we had been tracking. It was at least 100 strong. The herd contained two bulls. One, long in horn but not heavy, the other, thick broomed off horns. He was covered in mud from the water hole they were now at.

The herd was oblivious to our presence. Mike put the shooting sticks up and asked me which bull. We agreed, the old shorter bull was the one. My .375 roared, the bull staggered. Mike ordered to shoot him again. As I started to squeeze, he began to fall. A second shot wasn’t needed.

I was in a state of tunnel vision. It didn’t really fully hit me that I had just killed the Holy Grail of all Antelopes in the purest of fashions.

We all walked the 150 yards to the fallen beast and were all without words. His long, black, rutting cape was so much more than I had expected. His coat was perfect.

I had toyed with the idea of doing a full mount and had chatted with Mike about it previously. He agreed, it must be. We skinned it for full mount, quartered it. After we finished, we covered it with brush and retired to the shade for lunch. We figured we had a pretty good wait for the cruiser.

I was awoke from a brief nap by the far off sound of the little diesel, chugging its way through the bush.

By the time we loaded all the quarters, the cape and skull it was getting late. I figured another 4 hours back to camp Kocho. We also had to stop to retrieve the Hartebeest from the Bako we had cached it in.

As we approached the outskirts of camp, Mike asked me to fire a couple shots into an unsuspecting tree to relay our success onward to camp. As we arrived at the Kocho river (which has to be crossed) the entire camp was waiting on the other side. We reached the far bank and stopped. We were greeted with on of the finest celebrations I’ve seen in all my years of hunting. We were carried upon their shoulders and had branches of trees adorning our attire. Quite a welcoming it was.

Even then, I really never gave any thought to successfully hunting all 4 of the Elands. But as it now Stands, I only have a Patterson or East African left.

I took a couple years off from hunting Africa. I planned on a return to pursue the last of the Elands. I made one of my only errors of my hunting career. I booked a discounted hunt with a dodgy outfitter and didn’t use my friend and booking agent, John Barth. I would hunt an open area called Kilwa.

I had a 21-day license on a 16-day hunt. To make a long, dreadful story readable, it was terrible. I killed a couple Buffalo and a few other species but the place had no anti-poaching, no water and nearly no animals. I went home without my primary species, Patterson’s Eland. That was 2015.

I did desire to go back to Tanzania and hunt Patterson’s Eland and soon. John Barth and I began to look around at what was available. He knew I had wanted to hunt Leopard again at some point. The hunt John found was in a concession in NW Tanzania called Ibanda. It was actually with Wayne Grant who literally wrote the book on Leopard Hunting (Into the Thorns). This hunt was too good to pass up, we planned it for fall of 2017.

As I stated previously, I’m a dedicated cyclist. I’ve been riding and racing for 30 years. As the time for my trip was rapidly approaching, I was fighting a significant overuse cycling tendinopathy issue. I was in far too much pain to fly the distances required to get to Tanzania. I had no choice but to ask to postpone, if Wayne was able to.

Wayne was disappointed but understood and we planned it for the fall of 2018.

I arrived on schedule to the little town of Bukoba, Tanzania, which is right on the East shore of Lake Victoria. After the third or fourth “Ammo counting drill” with the Tanzanian authorities, we were free to go.

The drive to camp was a quick 3-1/2 hours, 120K of Tar, 120K of dirt, mostly pretty good. Conversation with Wayne was easy. He and I are only one-year apart and see most everything the same way. I could tell this was going to be an enjoyable Safari.

Upon arrival to camp, Wayne introduced me to the staff and showed me my quarters for the duration. We had a quick lunch, checked the rifle and prepared for the next day, the first hunting day. Wayne was clear as to my priorities, Patterson’s Eland, Topi and East African Sitatunga. I also had two Buffalo on license and will always partake in another Buffalo hunt.

As day one started, we drove around the concession, which is right on the Kagera river, which forms the international boundary with Rwanda and a bit north, Uganda. There were afternoon storms nearly every day. The grass had been burnt and the new green grass was growing rapidly. In places it looked like a golf course. There were hills and much topography, unlike anywhere I had previously hunted in Africa. The hills were mostly green. In places the grass was long enough to wave in the breeze. This place was truly amazing.

The game was plentiful. Defassa Waterbuck were everywhere. I did have interest in one but really wanted to hunt Eland first. Along the way to a Saline (salt Lick) we spotted some East African Roan. I hadn’t really thought about Roan but this East African Roan would give me all three species, Southern, Western and East African.

We put on a stalk and I made a 285-yard shot. We had collected our first trophy. He was a fine bull and I was proud to have shot him.

The next morning, we drove our normal route, across a big Korongo, past the “old camp” and up the hill where the Waterbuck all hang out at.

We hadn’t been out that long when Pemba, one of our trackers, told us…Eland. Wayne stopped the cruiser and we disembarked. We began a stalk of cat and mouse that went on for a couple hours. The herd finally made a mistake on a hunch that Wayne had about us positioning ourselves on a small rise, thinking they may come across the flat on the other side. The big blue bull was third or fourth in line. I was ready on the shooting sticks, Wayne did something, (I can’t remember) to get the bull to stop. I shot, full broadside and I felt good about the shot.

We gave them a few minutes and took a look where he was standing. There was some blood but not much. We began to track blood and tracks. He was still in the herd. Wayne thought I had made a good shot and we kept thinking we would come across him soon. We tracked and tracked and tracked some more. The blood was quickly disappearing.

Wayne stopped and told me he thinks my shot wasn’t fatal and he was hit in the leg somewhere. I agreed with him.

As we continued on, the desperation started, I hate that feeling more than anything in the world. About then, we got a lucky break…We saw them. The bull was still in the herd and doing fine. There was blood visible, high on his right front leg.

Now we were motivated, we speed up to a brisk walk. I am still un-able to run due to my tendinopathy. The herd looked as thought they were going to cross the big Korongo, mentioned earlier. Wayne told me to hurry up and we’ll get an open shot as they come up the other side.

Just then, the Eland made their second error. They decided they didn’t want to cross the Korongo and made a sharp right turn. They would present a shot. I was ready in my scope, Wayne was watching in his binos. “No, no, no, no…that’s the bull, shoot him” I had only a running shot, which I pulled off. I was able to get another shot off, not knowing if I had hit it on the second shot.

Now the cruiser shows up with the hunting party. We have fresh tracks and more blood. We slowly followed, Wayne intuitively knew the bull was going to leave the herd. Right where Wayne found where he separated, we saw him disappearing off the edge of the same Korongo. We approached the edge and there he stood, he was sick and dying. I fired another shot with my .375HH and had collected the fourth and final Eland.

He was magnificent. Huge in body, modest in horn. The Eland here seem all to be about the same size in horn. He has a long and pronounced dewlap. He died like a true warrior. He gave us a great hunt, one I will remember for the rest of my days. My first shot was in front of the shoulder, through the brisket. My first running shot was good, my second, hail Mary was a raking gut shot.

My nearly 20-year quest to hunt all of Africa’s Eland was now complete. We did it in good country, with good men, in a classic and proper manner. Incidentally, all 4 Elands were shot with the same .375.

 

[Skinny Tire AH]

Lord Derby's Eland from CAR. No field shots of him.

 

[Skinny Tire AH]

I just realized that I had posted this story last year.

My apologies. I will replace it with another.

 

[Caydens Cat]

I just realized that I had posted this story last year.

My apologies. I will replace it with another.

No! Don’t replace it, add to this. Great read.

 

[Dalton]

I just realized that I had posted this story last year.

My apologies. I will replace it with another.

Ever look at the Ennedi region in Chad? I was doing some preliminary research on different africa destinations, I was thinking “yeah I would spend 5k on something like this”, then I started pricing it out, 15k was about the going figure I was coming up with, but the landscape in that area is like nothing else.

 

[Skinny Tire AH]

Ever look at the Ennedi region in Chad? I was doing some preliminary research on different africa destinations, I was thinking “yeah I would spend 5k on something like this”, then I started pricing it out, 15k was about the going figure I was coming up with, but the landscape in that area is like nothing else.

As adventurous as I tend to be, I do usually avoid countries that are considered "extremely high risk". Chad is one of those. (or was) There was a period of time that it was unsafe to enter anywhere in Chad. There is a Kudu found in Chad, the Western Greater Kudu. I think there is some hunting opening up there but I don't think I will ever go there.

I have two places left I'd like to see on the African continent, Ethiopia and Uganda. When I was in the Ibanda concession in 2018, we were just across the river from Uganda. It has been called the "Green Jewel of Africa" and I saw why. Both countries have plenty of hunting opportunities.

 

[Skinny Tire AH]

In the story above, I mention Pemba the tracker, running down armed poachers. The pictures below give you an idea of what transpired. We were driving on a high ridge overlooking lots of good looking Buffalo country. The trackers tapped gently, on the roof of the cruiser as they do when seeing game and wanting us to stop. They conversed quietly with Wayne in Swahili. They had seen poachers.

Wayne instinctively coasted to a stop behind a large Camel-thorn tree for cover. Wayne looked over at me and asked me "Steve, there 4 of em, they may be armed, we don't know. If we apprehend these guys, it will likely cost you a full hunting day, what do you want to do?"

Now, I'm a HUGE believer in responsible wildlife Conservation through hunting. Our hunting dollars are the only firewall between a semblance of order in the bush and a total anarchy of poaching. We pay 100% for all the anti-poaching work done in hunting concessions all across Africa. So, my answer was hell yes!! lets get em'.

We got out our Bino's and came up with a plan. The poachers were approximately 300 yards below us, between two ridges both covered in heavy bush. They sat in a semi-circle around a fire, smoking bush meat. We saw two rifles (AK's) but didn't know what else they had. Our TAWA scout (Tanzania Wildlife Authority) had a AK-47 and a couple of half full, rusty mags. Our plane was for the scout and Pemba to go down one ridge, Chistian and Saidi (Driver and skinner) to go down the other ridge. Surround them with a pincer move with Wayne and I up top, in case they tried to go up. Chad my scope sighted .375, Wayne had an open sighted .460 Weatherby mag stopper. He asked to use my rifle, "just in case".

As our plan was executed, the two teams disappeared into the thick bush. It took probably 15 minutes for them to get to the bottom, surround the poachers camp. As they emerged, all hell broke loose. Gunfire from below coming from whom, we didn't know. Wayne and I saw two guys hit the ground (bad guys) one running off to the left and one other disappeared.

The one running left, didn't know we were up there. Wayne shouted something at him at about the same time my .375 roared. Yes, he was shooting at him. Poaching is looked at in Africa as a capitol crime, not everywhere, but bush justice is harsh. This guy is now hauling ass. I could make out he is barefoot. And has now discard his AK. He's 5-600 yards now and too far, so I asked Wayne to not waste all my ammo. I still had lots of hunting to do.

The running guy is gone for good. We look down the hill and can see there are two poachers on the ground being interrogated. So, we've lost one, one missing and two caught. Now, our guys gather up everything and start heading back up the hill. They were about halfway back up and Wayne yells at Pemba to pick up the blue shirt one of them left down in the long grass. As Pemba gets there, the "blue shirt' gets up and takes off, AK and all. Pemba had a stick and was in pursuit.

Now, Pemba is probably 6' 4" solid muscle probably 230 or so. He ran the guy down, actually grabbed him by the stock of the AK and threw him down, and administered a beating.

SO, now were at 3 of 4 poachers and 2 of 3 AK's recovered and one lost someplace.

Once up top, I was absolutely shocked. These guys were Rwandans and had come across the Kagera river in canoes to poach. They are very very small people, 5' 3" to maybe 5' 6" malnourished, wearing ragged and torn clothing. I truly felt bad for them, but this isn't my country and these aren't my laws.

Wayne told me that there would be cell service soon and Lawrence (Our TAWA scout) could call the local TAWA Scout office and we could hand them off soon. They were loaded into the back of the cruiser and we continued on hunting.

We hadn't gone far and three MASSIVE cape Buffalo erupted from the bush in front of us. We had actually seen these three bulls a few days prior in a canyon off to the side of the ridge we were on. We had hung some Leopard baits there, incidentally, they were all missing. We were sure the poachers had pinched them.

Anyway, we got out and followed the Buffalo to no avail, but watched them traverse down the hill to our left. We watched them go out of sight into a Korongo (canyon) and didn't come out. We assumed they bedded for the day. Our plan was to get rid of the poachers and go try to find the Buffalo.

First view of most of the Poachers and their camp.

Three apprehended.

Loading these guys up. Theres 9 of us in this hunting cruiser.

Handing off the three Poachers to the TAWA scouts.

 

[Dalton]

No hunting but on a quick jaunt to the continent currently

 

[Orange Juice]

 

[FCT]

In the story above, I mention Pemba the tracker, running down armed poachers. The pictures below give you an idea of what transpired. We were driving on a high ridge overlooking lots of good looking Buffalo country. The trackers tapped gently, on the roof of the cruiser as they do when seeing game and wanting us to stop. They conversed quietly with Wayne in Swahili. They had seen poachers.

Wayne instinctively coasted to a stop behind a large Camel-thorn tree for cover. Wayne looked over at me and asked me "Steve, there 4 of em, they may be armed, we don't know. If we apprehend these guys, it will likely cost you a full hunting day, what do you want to do?"

Now, I'm a HUGE believer in responsible wildlife Conservation through hunting. Our hunting dollars are the only firewall between a semblance of order in the bush and a total anarchy of poaching. We pay 100% for all the anti-poaching work done in hunting concessions all across Africa. So, my answer was hell yes!! lets get em'.

We got out our Bino's and came up with a plan. The poachers were approximately 300 yards below us, between two ridges both covered in heavy bush. They sat in a semi-circle around a fire, smoking bush meat. We saw two rifles (AK's) but didn't know what else they had. Our TAWA scout (Tanzania Wildlife Authority) had a AK-47 and a couple of half full, rusty mags. Our plane was for the scout and Pemba to go down one ridge, Chistian and Saidi (Driver and skinner) to go down the other ridge. Surround them with a pincer move with Wayne and I up top, in case they tried to go up. Chad my scope sighted .375, Wayne had an open sighted .460 Weatherby mag stopper. He asked to use my rifle, "just in case".

As our plan was executed, the two teams disappeared into the thick bush. It took probably 15 minutes for them to get to the bottom, surround the poachers camp. As they emerged, all hell broke loose. Gunfire from below coming from whom, we didn't know. Wayne and I saw two guys hit the ground (bad guys) one running off to the left and one other disappeared.

The one running left, didn't know we were up there. Wayne shouted something at him at about the same time my .375 roared. Yes, he was shooting at him. Poaching is looked at in Africa as a capitol crime, not everywhere, but bush justice is harsh. This guy is now hauling ass. I could make out he is barefoot. And has now discard his AK. He's 5-600 yards now and too far, so I asked Wayne to not waste all my ammo. I still had lots of hunting to do.

The running guy is gone for good. We look down the hill and can see there are two poachers on the ground being interrogated. So, we've lost one, one missing and two caught. Now, our guys gather up everything and start heading back up the hill. They were about halfway back up and Wayne yells at Pemba to pick up the blue shirt one of them left down in the long grass. As Pemba gets there, the "blue shirt' gets up and takes off, AK and all. Pemba had a stick and was in pursuit.

Now, Pemba is probably 6' 4" solid muscle probably 230 or so. He ran the guy down, actually grabbed him by the stock of the AK and threw him down, and administered a beating.

SO, now were at 3 of 4 poachers and 2 of 3 AK's recovered and one lost someplace.

Once up top, I was absolutely shocked. These guys were Rwandans and had come across the Kagera river in canoes to poach. They are very very small people, 5' 3" to maybe 5' 6" malnourished, wearing ragged and torn clothing. I truly felt bad for them, but this isn't my country and these aren't my laws.

Wayne told me that there would be cell service soon and Lawrence (Our TAWA scout) could call the local TAWA Scout office and we could hand them off soon. They were loaded into the back of the cruiser and we continued on hunting.

We hadn't gone far and three MASSIVE cape Buffalo erupted from the bush in front of us. We had actually seen these three bulls a few days prior in a canyon off to the side of the ridge we were on. We had hung some Leopard baits there, incidentally, they were all missing. We were sure the poachers had pinched them.

Anyway, we got out and followed the Buffalo to no avail, but watched them traverse down the hill to our left. We watched them go out of sight into a Korongo (canyon) and didn't come out. We assumed they bedded for the day. Our plan was to get rid of the poachers and go try to find the Buffalo.

View attachment 1098521

First view of most of the Poachers and their camp.

View attachment 1098522

Three apprehended.

View attachment 1098527

Loading these guys up. Theres 9 of us in this hunting cruiser.

View attachment 1098529

Handing off the three Poachers to the TAWA scouts.

What is the sentence for poaching like this?