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"A Safari is not a destination, it is a journey through life ..." & "An exciting buffalo hunt"

Turned Fifty at the Beginning of August and decided a buffalp hunt was in order.

Claydog from Katherine had invited me to hunt if ever up there and also had invited Larcher in the past so decided to get Larcher along too.

Larcher was coming out for about a week and would arrive at Darwin airport so set off for the long 3000 km drive from South Australia to Darwin.

It WAS the plan to have a leisurely drive over five days ... always good to plan for an early start as ... I missed the first day and only set off at 5 pm on the next day. That left me the evening and three and a half days to do the drive. Three days is difficult from past experience if one person has to do all the driving as it require about 12 hours of driving every day. Four days is fine if all goes well.

Day One, set off at 5 pm and drove from the Barossa, via various small towns in the mid North of SA. I had "Lord of the Rings" on the ipod to listen to on the trip and it should last for the whole drive. Good to have big books for this purpose.

Rainy weather and cold when I set off.

First hiccup. Driving through the beginnings of Clare, not paying any attention, flashing police lights, glanced at the GPS or speedo - 70 kmph ... shouldn't be too bad. Pulling over the cop came to my window, asked me what speed, I said 70, he said I had been speeding, and at 70 in a 50 zone, did I know the fine would be $690 and a loss of 5 demerit points !!!! Did I have 5 demerit points left?

FFFFing hell !!! I am not responsible to pay for the bankrupt SA gov'ts incompetence!

I said to the cop, I thought the speed limit was 60. He replied so I knew I was speeding. I said maybe I was slowing down. He replied, so you were doing 80 in a 50 zone. I replied I don't know, I was just doing 70.

Then he started to talk about how he normally did not do this, but he would give a warning only. Drive safely and don't stuff up your trip. I thanked him and drove on.

Good to see some cops still understand that they aren't tax collectors and that warnings are better than ridiculously high fines. Draconian.

Drove on, first stop would be Port Augusta.

Using "writer's licence" and mixing up pics from both the trip North and South. The drive South was more leisurely and stopped more often and at places for photos.

The Road North ...

Gibber plains of Northern SA.

Northern SA road - "the long and not so winding road" ...

You find most drivers finish their outback drives before dark. The outback roads can be risky as often the roads are unfenced. Kangaroos are a risk. Cattle, horses, donkeys and even camels. Camels are especially bad as they will end up in the windscreen if struck.

But I wanted to make a good dent into the distance the first drive, and was aiming for Marla. Marla is 1,050 kms and about 11 hours without breaks. Having started so late, it wouldn't be possible.

Passing some vehicles but mostly semi's and road trains, they don't have as much issue with hitting animals. Actually it is often good if you can get up behind a road train going the same way. Usually have to drive slower but they clear the road.

The remains of the old Stuart Highway. I drove this route the first and last time in April 1984. The "highway" at the time from Kingoonya to just South of the Territory border was a dirt, gravel and bulldust track, full of road corrugations, holes filled with slippery and fine bulldust which filled the Landcruiser through any small gap, raised cattle grids from the road being worn down on each side. It was fun, but took us 24 hours of non stop driving to drive to the border. Car wrecks littered the side of the road from the unwary. At night every here and there were campfires of the occaisonal travellor camping for the night.

It was cool and adventurous compared to a surfaced road.

Returning from that trip in May 1984 we avoided this route and took the Oonadatta Track instead, another dirt road, but actually better though longer, by a round about way.

We didn't know at the time that the Stuart Highway had actually been finished while we were away and it was now all surfaced, the same highway as today.

200 km South of Coober Pedy a kangaroo hopped out from behind a bush right beside the front of the vehicle and bang, I hit it in the head and shoulders with the left corner of the vehicle. Getting out the bull bar had protected the Landcruiser, but the indicator light in the bull bar was hanging down. Using some wire to keep it on, must have blown the fuse and the indicators no longer worked. Drove back to find the roo to kill it if it was still alive. Didn't find it, it must have been thrown off into the bush or moved away.

Decided I was far enough and stopped at the next rest stop. Three other vehicles, all caravans or campers were there. Finished day ONE at about 2 am. 622 kms down.

Northern SA scenes

A mesa in Northern SA.

One of the many salt lakes of Northern South Australia, but a tiny one.

An emergency airstrip utilising part of the Stuart Highway.

Slept in the Landcruiser that night. I had unrolled the swag on a cargo box where the rear seat would be. Damned it was cramped though. The car was nice and warm and did not even need the sleeping bag. Woke up iun the night, I did need the sleeping bag now. Later wokle up again and there was ice formed on the windscreen. It was getting down to minus 2 or 3 celsius in the Northern SA deserts these days.

Woke up later than planned, everyone else was gone and a road crew was spraying weeds at the road stop.

Drove on and reached Coober Pedy. Had lunch at the roadhouse and found a mechanic, who removed the indicator light and a new fuse put in. Should have known it was only a fuse. I had indicators on the Landcruiser itself so the bullbar one wasn't needed.

Coober Pedy

A blower marks the entrance to Coober Pedy.

Under the gibber plains lie opals and gemstones.

Tantooine on Earth.

Be careful of where you walk!

Now off to Marla. Stopped at Marla for a break and then off again for the border.

Thought the two speed signs were funny, and stopped on the way back for photos.

"In the Northern Territory - Max Speed 110"

But metres further on, speed limit 130 kmph.

The Northern Territory used to have unlimited speeds, and still does on a section of road, but the oppressive thumb of Federal bureacracy squashed it finally to enforce a maximum limit.

Even on the Stuart Highway however the roads are often too bumpy and rough in places for an "unlimited" speed IMO and are nothing like the snmoothness of the autobahns.

I enjoy this part of Central Australia, the region between the NT border and Alice Springs. Arid but with mountain ranges, creeks and often pretty arid bush and forests.

Central Australia

One of the many Central Australian creeks.

Arrived at Erldunda around 9 pm. Erldunda is the roadhouse at the turnoff for the road heading West to Ayers Rock. Had enough of the risky night driving again. Filled up with diesel and decided a good night's sleep in the motel would recharge the batteries better. Didn't make it as far as intended as the previous night' sleep wasn't good enough.

Came close as the motel reception closed 15 minutes later. I needed to buy a phone card to phone home using the public phone boxes and the petrol station was closed already to, at 9:15 pm. One gets used to 24 hour fuel stations but with so little traffic at night in the bush, these places can close anywhere from 7pm to around 9 pm. In the old days one had to plan an outback hunt and carry enough fuel in jerrycans to get to the next fuel stop. Sometimes waiting by the fuel stations for them to open in the morning, after a night's drive.

Day TWO was only 5 hours total driving and 490 kms.

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John aka NitroX

...
Govt get out of our lives NOW!
"I love the smell of cordite in the morning."
"A Sharp spear needs no polish"

Hi friends

Sorry for delaying my report, but I am so enthralled with this incredible hunting vacation that I decided to wait a bit to cool down.

Note that I didn't read John's post , this is my (shorter) report. Seems that we are descripting the same hunt.

A great country, incredible friends and a memorable hunt.

What happens was that I planned 3 weeks vacation in August on the French Riviera with my wife. And bang, John invited me without notice the week before my vacation. That means 4 weeks out of work. The invitation was so great that in 2 hours I took my decision to join him, stealing 3 days from my vacation with my wife.

It resulted in 2 months deeply rejoicing and preparing for this hunt.

As bringing a rifle in any country is ever a pita, following John’s advice, I opted for bringing a bow and arrows instead of my 375 Sauer.

At this point, zeroing the bow was a real challenge. The bow should be potent enough for buff, but must also shoot lighter wild boars arrows atop of buff arrows I won’t go into details but it was a 2 months long 2 hours a day business. My 100# bow even downgraded to 91# wasn’t a good option. Should I be in lesser form I wouldn’t have managed to shoot it. I resorted to my 70# bowtech and did my best to have it shoot buff heavy arrow and lighter one for wild boar or light game. A real fun and depressing quest. Anyhow I managed.

Then came my kit options. John assured me that I didn’t have to bring anything for living in the bush. But the dilemma was still pregnant. How to pack hunting items and hunting clothing, as well as summer clothing for the Riviera. Yes, no choice, I also needed to pack what was necessary to look decent on the riviera with the wife, especially in the posh city, Cannes. I couldn’t fly home and then fly to Cannes. Quite challenging.

I left my home the 6th August afternoon. My wife drove me to a bus station in Germany (18 km far from my home) for a hop to the Frankfurt airport. I was then very pissed.
I decided to pack all my kit in my bow case. Sadly, I lended this case to a friend that was good enough to bring it back the day previous my departure. One hinge on 4 was erased, so I was forced to stick some tape on it.
The temperature was 40-41°C and the tape was getting off, pissing me. A real risk of having all my items lost during the flight.
In the bus, it happened that I was the only customer. Nice to have a bus for oneself but just imagine 2 idiots, the chauffeur and I, alone in an air con bus, prevented from chatting because of the regulations.

At Frankfurt airport, I took off at 10 pm without any hassle and 15 hours later landed in Singapore airport. I refrained as much as possible to sleep to allay a coming jetlag. A 16 hour stay in the airport wasn’t very appealing, so I had a 2 hours tour in Singapore by night. Really worth of it as Singapore was just commemorating its 50 year of existence. Of course I let back my cam in a taxi cab, a cam that I bought 4 months ago in the Singapore airport. Too bad, no way out of once again buying a cam in the airport. The bright side of this annoyance was preventing me from sleeping and this way to cope with the incoming 8 hour jetlag.

Eventually I landed in Darwin at 2 pm. Some jolly moment waiting for my bow case that didn’t come. Disgusted, I made for the lost luggage office when I saw in a corner my bow case. When I arrived for clearing the customs, I was the last and only one. This case of course attracted the customs officers that very amiably asked to check it as it looked like containing a rifle. A 30 second affair. And right now I had my first inkling of Aussies : serious and friendly.

In the airport hall I tried to call John, but my phone for a while refused any connection, what brought some stress, as John had told me he was not sure to arrive in time. Anyhow 15 minutes later (2 cigarettes) he arrived.

A cheerful meeting of course. On the parking lot I discovered his monster Toyota laden to a point one can imagine, the inside as well as the top rack. Sure we won’t lack any thing.
We drove a couple of hours before stopping for the night in a motel. Incredibly, when having lunch in the restaurant, I saw the stuffed Crocodile Dundee buffalo, remaining me of already having had a drink there in 2006.

Monday morning we met Clayton in his office. Most of You know him, but for those who don’t, imagine a young cheerful guy with plenty of humour. He got to great lengths to explain us how to deal in the ranch we will hunt, along with quite a few laughs.

Now it’s time to be honest. I can read English without needing any dictionary. I can write English more or less. But I am not accustomed to hear English. When meeting John who speaks real English with a slight Australian accent, I was hardly able to understand 75% of what he was saying. Confronted to Clayton, I hardly understood 30% of what he said. A real horrific situation, for me and for Clayton. Fortunately friendship makes miracles.

Then we paid a visit to Pato and his family. Happy meeting but I was at lost with taking my part in this cordial meeting because of my struggling with coping with the Australian accent. Pato showed us his 14 foot croc hide and I was impressed with the size of the monster and of the upper quality of the tanning. Sadly Pato had to go to work and don’t count on me to slander on hard working guys. And later, Pato had no opportunity to join us, I regret it, as we could have had a jolly good time.

Then we went to the ranch from Katherine. A large ranch on a flat dry (at this time of the year) terrain. Imagine sort of a triangle between 2 rivers. It’s dry grass in a sort of a forest where small and medium trees grow every 5 m. See the picture.

Clayton had us scuttled the most part of the ranch to get us accustomed to this fenced territory. Up to us to shoot buffalos, as they are there considered vermin, as well as wild cattle. He showed us 2 places along the main river where we can camp. He gave us 50+ lures (rapalas) for fishing barramundi, a trident for fishing prawns and an iridium cell phone, and the absolute weapon, a garmin GPS logging the tracks, the rivers, the fences, and the best hunting spots.

We set our camp close to the river in a place where the river is very narrow and shallow, the clear running water allowing US to have a bath without being puzzled by possible crocs.

Setting the camp was a grand moment for me. John brought whatever You can imagine. 6 guns, fishing gear of course but tents, sleeping bags, 1 freezer-fridge, 1 fridge, a generator, a 3 fired stove, comfortable chairs and table………along with varied food for accommodating demanding customers for a month……along with whatever cooking ustensils you can imagine. Cold beer and wine,……….incredible, that has to be seen to be believed. John presented me with his 375.

I checked it , shooting 4cm high at 100m, what means a rifle zeroed to shoot at 200m. We opted for sleeping under the stars, they well deserve it. And no mosquitos to pester us. Sort of back to the earthly paradise.
The first morning we scouted upstream of the main river. Not that many tracks of buff or wild boars but a good training with coping with the lantanas. The afternoon, we checked downstream.
I realized that hunting in dry land isn’t easy when one want to move noiselessly. What is reassuring is that the ranch is harboring 3000 heads of cattle, and that the buffalo might believe that the noise of our footing is cattle’s.

The days later, we tried our luck diagonally opposite close to the second river where a young bull was often looking at us at 50m. More fresh tracks there. We persisted in this area, looking for a brook that in fact was dry. We made a terrible mistake with this brook but John perhaps can explain it, we were so dumb!!!!!!

It appeared that this east part of the ranch, more watered, was the most promising. Especially a marsh covered in wallows.

So far we saw a scampering herd of cows and calves not far from our camp, the dumb young buff 3 times, and approaching cows and calves and a herd in the vicinity of the bog. This place was to be hunted thoroughly as haphazardly looking for solitary trophy buffs failed. Also 2 wild cattle, but we let them alone, not wanting to shoot and alert the buffalo.

The 5th day in the morning close the marsh when having seen cows and calves we bumped onto a young bull by himself. As next day I’d have to fly back, I decided to shoot him. Sadly during my approach, I bumped my quiver against a branch and the bull got startled. No chance for a close approach for shooting with the bow. I resorted to the rifle, but the bull was now upset and slowly departing. At 60m broadside, I shot it behind its right shoulder, he marked and trotted away. In this circumstance, I lacked judgement. I was waiting for him to fall down and didn’t shoot again, especially because I am not an adept to the Texas heart shot. Beyond 100 m he stopped broadside and both we shot. He came a bit toward us and I let go a raking shot when he was quartering toward us.
He then galloped in our direction. John was clearly ahead of me, so only he could shoot and he knocked it over, a clear impressive dead right there. What a lesson, this Australian buffalo are incredibly bulletproof compared to the African’s.

That was a collective shooting and definitely better fun.
You can’t imagine how I was pleased after 6 days of scouting the whole area to bag a nice bull with such an indecisive shooting, my spirits going high, low and high. Pure joy. Not a coveted trophy, but for me an incredible souvenir of a memorable week of hunt and sharing friendship. We spent the afternoon cleaning the trophy and lazing. And what a memorable dinner!!!!

I regret we couldn’t shoot another buff for John, but that he managed a couple of days later, to my relieve, feeling a bit egoistical.

Next day, we visited Clayton, as cheerful as ever. I thank him very much for this so generous invitation and for taking charge of my trophy to dip, clear and ship it.
John drove me to Darwin from where I flought to Singapore, Zurich and Cannes, full of happiness and nostalgy.
Our hunting kit. John was using his famous double and no less that a 20kg rucksack full of whatever items we might use, let alone every pockets filled. A no nonsense guy, and a strong guy too. My kit was light, the 375, my bow and arrow, a knife, my binocs, a cam and a bottle of water. Not more. John acted as guide most of the time.

What I’ll ever remember is the good time we spent. We hunted reasonably, not hard but astutely. The pleasure was also to enjoy the bush, being free as a bird without any pressure. And most of it chatting no end between friends. John is very heartful, educated and open to the whole world, has a lot of knowledges making him a perfect companion. Every night after a serious dinner, we were chatting about lots of points, a rare pleasure.

Same with Australians. I met them when shopping. All are very cool and friendly, quite different from Europeans.
And now I am just looking to come back to meet John again, and Australia which is a fantastic country that turns You addict of.

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"I don't want to create an encyclopedic atmosphere here when we might be having a beer instead" P H Capstick in "Safari the last adventure."

Edited by NitroX (24/09/15 06:42 PM)