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HUNT SUMMARY

Date of Hunt: April/May 2009

Locations: Doma, Zimbabwe

PH/Outfitter: Gordon Duncan
Email: gordo@thedomaproject.com
Website: http://www.domasafaris.com/doma_safaris.htm

Getting there

Flight went well – baggage showed up. Weather was clear. Gordon picked me up at the airport and we drove to his house, picked up trackers and went shopping for stocks and fuel for our hunt.

As we were pumping up at the station – all the te hell brake loose – police on motor bikes stopping the traffic – bakkie loaded with armed guys passed first, than a Mercedes with plates signed “ZIM 1”…I was about to take some pics but at the end decided not to – it was quite a sight tho.

Well, next was driving up to Doma via Kariba road: Harare – Chinhoyi – turn right at Lions Den – Mhangura - Doma. Drive was pleasant with ever changing countryside passing beside. We finally reached the camp in the dark.

Camp

Sunrise from the camp

Camp (Doma Safari Lodge) is situated on shores of a beautiful lake – one of many lakes/dams in the area, right in the wilds of the African bush with all the comforts of home. Each private, brick-under-thatch lodge has its own spectacular view, with en-suite bathroom and living area. All lodges have generated electricity and back-up lighting, drinking water and hot shower ready at any time – luxury that is fully appreciated after a long, hard hunt day. Lodges are named by bird species – mine was a “Fish Eagle”.

View from the lodge

Dinner table

Area

Basically one can divide area into two – lower and upper – they are divided by picturesque Tchechenini ridge that rides above and is a distinctive landmark to get basic orientation in this spacious place.

Lower (southern) area

It is an area of almost 200 sq. km around the camp that lays in the north/western part of it.

Upper (northern) area

True wilderness that expands toward north, overlooking the strip of National Parks Doma Safari Area and Chewore before it disappears from horizon into Zambezi Escarpment. This area has been lately attached to the project (it was previously managed by Chifuti’s).

Game seen, tracked or heard:

elephant, buffalo, leopard, hyena, crocodile, sable, kudu, bushbuck, waterbuck, zebra, impala, giraffe, warthog, bushpig, baboon…

Buffalo Hunt

Sighting in the rifle - if that would be the word (I brought a Merkel double in 9.3 rimmed) – was a sign of the things to come - offhand at 20 paces or so. Loads were GSFN 265gr solids, going 2350 fps.

We had great fun – I let the guys to try out.

In the first place I was exclusively after buffalo all the rest would come as a targets of opportunity.

First stage of the hunting was to present ourselves with a picture of ongoing buffalo situation.

Early cold dewy mornings would find us driving north through the seas of soaked tall grass, passing the Communal lands and Tchecenini ridge to get in the Upper area where the recent buff activities are expected (later in the season buffalo are to be seen in the lower part with regularity as well).

So we were out on tracking the roads, watering holes, dams and streams – checking the night goings.

Here comes the trick number 1 of this place. Terrain of eternally long grassy ridges, dotted with beautiful trees is intermitted by valleys that contain crystal clear cold water streams and there is numberless of them – all providing perfect buffalos needs with anything they think of – good graze everywhere, water, shelter and shade in form of Jesse patches and tall grass meadows. So no regulars – buffalo that would spent their day in this valley could be there the day after or not – the next valley is just as perfect as the next and so on and so on. And those buffalo are space save – keeping themselves in quite small area so finding them is as said – trick No 1.

One of the many secret streams

We were playing with couple of herds and dugga boy parties.

Once a fresh track was found, the chase was on – if we found the track early in the morning it was a good chance we would catch up with them before they were bedded down – usually it took us between 10 minutes to 3 hours every time.

Very fresh track

Easy going

Now come the tricks No 2 and No 3.Terrain is very agitated so comes the wind very unstable swirling all the time – once we got a perfect picture of buffalo coming on a path from our right to left, passing a ditch would brought them right in front of us, giant bull in mid 40’s among them, when a tiny swirl of a wind made them make a 180 turn and all bunched up (with big bull in the middle of course) send them over the ridge, there was a cow lagging behind a bit – but hey - not my cup of tea. Constantly swirling wind - that’s trick No2.

Grass on ridges is pretty short (waist high) but the buffalo would spend their time there only during the night. Once it dawns they would tend to move toward valleys, where grass gets taller and thicker on to jesse patches near the water. So you end up in a quite difficult to scan terrain – once we managed to catch up seeing them across a small river 40 yards in front – crawled behind a granite rocks – found a steady rest – they were munching around some bushes and high grass – now you see them, now you don’t – here goes one there is another, then there are none – here is hump – is it a bull? – turning slowly – no a cow! – look at the swaying bush – here comes the thick horn – obviously a bull – but hairy boss – sh..! It was THICK - that’s trick No3 – and it lasts until trick No2 applies.

They were there just moments ago

When we bumped them before they were bedded down – they took a hasty retreat into one of the mentioned jesse patches and waited to check their trails. Usually we gave them some time so they got impression that first interruption was a false one and they usually bed down right there. No way around but through it – crawl in and bump them again – some very tight situations developed there, ending in buffalo leaving the jesse out in a tall grass meadows, turning downwind and wait to see if we are following – tricks No2 and No3 apply again and the most tight situations imaginable as well – they would let you come close – really close – meaning 10 foot or something, before all hell breaks out – deep “MOO” (sometimes not) followed by a roll of the buff start off – forward tracker diving into grass, the second tracker making a swift retreat low above the ground (keeping him out of sight) while you and a PH are scanning a moving of the grass in front, over the sights – pushing the safety on your rifle can cause blisters – hehe.

Into grass

Edge of jesse

Into jesse

Out to tall grass again

That game of seek and hide would continue until:

1. You run out of time – with no radio connection and a driver to pick you up, that means once you stop it is a loooong way back to the truck (usually uphill) – tracking pace is a nice one (like a walk) – but oh dear – wait to see the change in a pace on return – those trackers speed it up and without a buffalo quarry that kept you up so far, there is only a cooler box hallucination that represent a valuable thing to follow.
2. Buffalo here are educated – they know around – an escape into park is an appropriate thing to end the day.
3. Bumped out of the jesse, returning into same patch means you are running their patience thin – it would be stupid to thin it out even further.

All this spiced with usual ingredients - flat tires (terrain is unforgiving on those), cold, dew, heat, thorns, spiders, tse-tse, hornets, snakes, buffalo beans and that bright green muffles that burn for couple of mins - river crossings John Sharp style (once it happened 4 times in a row over a distance of 500m or so)...makes one of the hardest, demanding, pretentious, exciting – in short – IMO the best buffalo hunting I know of.

No comment

Tse-tse bugger

Buffalo beans

20 kliks later – beaten, screeched, tired - happy

I am sorry no buffalo pictures this time – there were half opportunities, but I was trying to be reasonable – making a sub 100% shot under those circumstances would be asking for some – then some more…no life buffalo pictures neither – I was fully occupied with the safety on my rifle whenever I got a glimpse of them.

Hell for shooters but heaven for hunters and buffalos!

Plains game Hunting

There is a myriad of species around tho hunting at this time of the year is a tough one – grass is thick and high – tho you will see them.

OK for those that kept up with me to this stage there is a candy:

One morning found us with 3 flat tires on “Cherrie” – so while guys were working out on those – Gordon picked Kasirai to escort us. Rifles on shoulders and we strolled out of the camp on foot. Easy, slow walking brought us over a shallow valley about 30 minutes out of the camp, when suddenly at our left in a small crossroad a bunch of baboons took a refuge in all directions – leaving a bushbuck that was in the middle of them a bit confused. He managed to jump into nearest thicket and waited patiently. I was already on my knee – safety off – seeing Gordon corked his right ear – still I asked if it is OK. He confirmed so I took a firm aim – bushbuck was quartering with his hind part toward us – nut much more there was to be seen. So I used my imagination – put my bed where I thought it was suppose to be and let one off. High jump and a kickoff a behind legs made us all (except the bushbuck) quite happy – bushbuck dashed into a dead semicircular run in high grass. Still the follow up was quite exciting – yet we found it not 30m from where it was shot at.

Line of fire – light patch in the middle is where bushbuck was standing

GSFN solid through the heart

Conclusion

Doma – as said on the site – real Africa, pure Zimbabwe - it is a magic place of thousand faces and mirrors – wild, unspoiled - it keeps its secrets very well. If you expect to sit on the heights looking down and expect to see it all - you won’t. You will have to get on your feet and sink down into it. It is strong like a finest single malt – it will grab you, twist you, fold you and left you just enough to come back for more.

I have learned a lot about the place but I have learned even more about myself. Deposit is paid already and I am on my way to get back there asap.

Sorry guys - bit late but haven't managed to get on my comp to login earlier - here is a part 2:

It was more a relaxed getaway from a hectic world to visit friends prior the holidays than a hunt.

We have only got a few days and slip away up to Doma to do some relaxed snack hunting.
I was staying in the same chalet (Fish eagle) as last time with only difference that my lizard house dog was replaced by a 3 foot crocodile. I loved that guy – it was there all the time. During the day it was sunbathing on the lowest step to the lake and during the night an orange reflectioned eye under my torch would revealed his omni presence.

Everything was so different than last time. Weather was following the usual circle from fresh, blinding clear sharp days followed by rising humidity that could be clearly seen in build up of singular white clouds that were slowly but surely increasing in numbers, becoming bigger, higher, with darkening flat bottoms until the breaking point was reached and they let it go in a form from refreshing drizzle to deafening thunder storms with heaps of water that would flush the area virgin new.

Tree striked by lightning

Mainly we would just drove, walk or climb the area and observe the beautiful sights, inhaling a dense smell of boiling nature arising from a humid red earth in a form of exploding green foliage that was bursting out to get some sun.

I have seen what I was lacking in April – that thick tall grass was mostly all burned and the new one was knee high – giving us a beautiful sights of a green golf course.

Managed to see small guys like duiker and oribi in good numbers, as well as some more impala, waterbuck and above all a mighty sable.

Nevertheless we were looking for buffalo – and they were there. In 4 days we managed to get on them 2 times – the first one was a group.

We found tracks crossing the road – dung at this time of the year was different – dark (spinach) green. We hit the tracks and in less than ½ an hour caught up with them. They were in a gully on their way uphill. Wind was mostly at our backs so we circled right, lower on the slope then up, that brought us parallel and level with them. We were stacked in the last scrub before open forest some 100m away from the herd. Herd was stretched over 60m in width and we started to glass them. There were 2 niiice bulls there – one was just coming in front of the herd from our right to left. It would be a reasonably comfy 100m shot with a scoped rifle and if that would be what I was after I would get my buff the very first day. However peeking over open sights one could only speculate the outcome of the shot on a black patch between trees backed by a deep black background of the rest of the herd. While I was glassing the bull – he was pitched black, mature, already hard bossed guy with a nice drop, ~38” spread with beautifully pointed points sweeping backwards when looking from side - the Sun was beating down heavily and the wind began to shift. To make it even denser a strange buzzing sound began to evolve from the top of the near tree in a form of wild bees beginning their swarm – luckily over us and beyond. So we backed some to get to the ridge behind us that was rising up the slope and well hidden behind it made a swift climb that brought us above the herd. Trackers were put in bay and we descented on our knees and hands closer. We managed to get within 30m or so to the nearest animal (herd was now just behind a shallow ridge beneath us), that was according to heavy swaying bush, a bull that have just began to have his boss style made. Anyway, just as buffalo doctor ordered there was a beautiful snowy white storm tower cloud beginning to form right behind the herd – the huge lifting mass of the humid air began to inhale a decent amount of neighbouring air in a form of a gentle swirl licking our necks.

Deep “Mooourgh”, subdued duba-dum, duba-damn announced a swift, tho not far (maybe 30m) retreat of a whole heard that suddenly came to a dead still truce. Mr Sullivan would say: “We were listening for them and they were listening for us.” It didn't last long – suddenly another whirl send a false message to our quarry that we are somewhere else and they repeated the duba-duba thing with only a slight difference in amount of 180 degrees of their course – aka our way. Weee – I have underestimated the size of the herd – optimistic expectation of maybe 12-15 animals was revealed in a huge black single body mass of 40 strong running blindly in front of us – luckily leaning into a right handed corner – we made a hasty sprint along as fast as we could to get to the ridge and see if they would like to stop and check their trail – they didn't. With some wicked sense of humour based on a common sense and experience they took the very same trail (exactly the same to be honest) as they did ½ a year ago – toward the Park. We followed them as long as it was clear that a constant downwind course won't grow a fruit of any kind.

The second time we (Gordon and yours truly), were enjoying our midday siesta – resting in a truck parked in a deep acacia tree shade, having a go at a yummy lasagna that our cook provided us with in the morning, waiting for the trackers that were debarked a couple of kliks ago to check the last gully, under the last dam on the very last day. I was already packing my stuff in my mind trying to remember where I have put my passport and wondering if yesterdays laundry would be washed and dry to be packed. The long wait (every time those last much, much longer then expected) was interrupted by a smiling figures of our trackers appearing behind the truck. They have found a fresh spoor of a single dagga boy just around the corner.

Well so much about a last day peaceful sunny afternoon...It was 13.15 PM when we jumped the track. It was coming from an ancient, long forgotten and overgrown pasture that could be recognised solely by a couple of remaining poles of former fence, descending along the slope just to make a left hand turn over the ridge. There it meander along some rocks on the exposed ridges, passing them, descending again – keeping a left hand curve to a hidden mud hole on a bank of a vlei. Track was still not fresh – one could see baboon tracks over the one of the buffalo – meaning that track was from morning – yet we followed, certain that buff would have to bed down sooner or later with a proviso that we would encounter it bedded down. There was something strange tho – there wasn't a single dung along track so far. Anyway, tracking became bit easier since one could see drops of a mud that buffalo was leaving behind after the mud bath. Now the track was crossing the slope, keeping the height for some time when suddenly it dropped to the right, nearing a waste thicket in the valley.

All this time I was butchering myself whit a thought – how is all this going to end – already low, 3 PM sun shining on our backs on a very last day – I could nearly see a gut hit buff disappearing in the dusky bush - BTW, I have a plane to catch morrow...hullo!?

Tho I bumped all that nonsense out my head for at least two reason I was able to remember at the time – Gordon looked pretty calm and we were nearing the thicket. For one reason or the other the buff suddenly backtracked and continued along the thicket – I guess it was looking for a good downwind course to enter the thicket to eliminate a possibility of being sneaked upon from its track. Entering and backtracking thing repeated a couple of times until we ended in a but high patches of shiny green bushes.

There we could smell it, damn it must be very, very close. Sit got tense – whites of trackers eyes became even whiter therefore bigger – rifle was resting in my hands for some time, tho it got slippery and unusually light. Thumb of my hand that was embracing the pistol grip slipped to the bumpy edge of a safety, applying a tiny push ready to squeeze it all the way.

Another backtrack and a short right turn - when - all of the sudden – “duba-duba” thing...all I could see was buff's hindquarters disappearing through bushes not 5 m away. RUN – I remember sprinting, trying to catch the Gordon in a swift pursuit through the thick stuff for some 30 m to the edge of the thicket, where he suddenly stopped.

Through branches of the last remaining bush I have picked up a massive – half mud caked sturdy body of a buff, standing broadside at 50m looking our way – rifle was in a single swing coming up – shiny red front bead already insight was climbing up front leg and The finger was beginning to slip on the trigger, when Gordon whispered in a hurry, “Don't shoot – it's a cow...”

Eish at that time I have moved my attention from the buff's “Bermuda triangle” to its head – damn, indeed hairy boss-less space between horns on a light head revealed that we've been pulled by a big foot, big bodied “dugga mama”. How or why it ended alone still remains a mystery – the only thing that we could came up was that it was probably looking for a place to give birth or something...anyway it gave us all there is possible to expect from a great Nyati hunt...

A cig, couple of water sips and we were back to where we have started – slow, relaxed ascent toward setting sun that was spreading its last beams through a blistery green grass.