MOZAMBIQUE: 15 Day Hunt Report With Zambeze Delta Safaris In Coutada 11

[RR 314]

Man, what a hunt and read! Perfection on both fronts! I bet a shower and dry shorts was welcomed that evening!

 

[Texas Sharpshooter Fallacy]

WHAT a hunt! Congrats to you both. I've been intrigued by ZDS for a while now - the team, the land, the hunting, the conservation efforts. World class!

I also don't think that I've ever read a page was filled by three posts. This has got to be some kind of record

Reading all this is making me wonder why we spent so much time talking guns instead of all our time on this hunt when we were sharing a whiskey last month. Especially since Ian was there too. You have my permission and encouragement to tell me to be quiet and listen next time.

 

[AZDAVE]

Completely enjoyed your report and sharing a hunt with your some is a life long memory!

 

[Ku-winda]

WHAT a hunt! Congrats to you both. I've been intrigued by ZDS for a while now - the team, the land, the hunting, the conservation efforts. World class!

I also don't think that I've ever read a page was filled by three posts. This has got to be some kind of record

Reading all this is making me wonder why we spent so much time talking guns instead of all our time on this hunt when we were sharing a whiskey last month. Especially since Ian was there too. You have my permission and encouragement to tell me to be quiet and listen next time.

Thanks @Texas Sharpshooter Fallacy, you are way too kind, but "au contraire" - Ian and I were quite entertained as you regaled us with tales of that night time encounter with a big Zim crop raider, over more than one EH Taylor I might add! That total darkness action takes on a whole new element of danger, and your ele story had us both on the edge of our seats. In regards to our big bore discussion, I'm not sure how we could spend enough time talking about your magnificent, Matt Roberts built 500 Jeffery, he unveiled in Atlanta. That is definitely one I think you need to share with AHF, especially now that you've had the opportunity to get in some range time with it! Thanks for tuning in on my journey.

 

[Brod]

What a fantastic report so far, and we all appreciate the details you include. I'm looking forward to the remainder of your journey with your son.

 

[Ku-winda]

What a fantastic report so far, and we all appreciate the details you include. I'm looking forward to the remainder of your journey with your son.

Greatly appreciated @Brod - glad you are enjoying it!

 

[PARA45]

WOW!!!!!! What a great hunt, and how it was conducted. Memories of a lifetime. Sir, you need to write that down for your family enjoy!

 

[Ku-winda]

WOW!!!!!! What a great hunt, and how it was conducted. Memories of a lifetime. Sir, you need to write that down for your family enjoy!

Thank you @PARA45 , I greatly appreciate your comments throughout! We still have some cool stuff to go and then I'll tie it all up at the end. I have enjoyed writing the report and it brings back such fond memories every time I sit down at the computer. PH Bredger Thomason, aka @Madhatter has been following the thread as well and says it all played out exactly as described and feels like he is right there doing it all over again, just like groundhog day! I couldn't ask for much more than that.

 

[Ku-winda]

A COUTADA ENCORE

When I reflect back on Coutada 11, I can’t help but think about Tom Hanks line from Forrest Gump when he quotes his mother saying, “life is like a box of chocolates, because you just never know what you are going to get,” – that quote is Coutada 11 in a nutshell! We were already on day nine of a fifteen-day safari and it seemed like every day, a new opportunity would just magically present itself, as if on cue. Of course, that day in the swamp was going to be hard to beat, but I had already learned Coutada 11 always had something more to offer – an encore, if you will!

We spent the morning hunt out on the flood plain and once again, encountered numerous herd animals. We were primarily in search of an old hartebeest or possibly a big warthog. Mid-morning, we saw a large herd of hartebeest that were moving in and out of the palms on the edge of the flood plain. There were a couple of bulls in the group that Bredger thought were worthy of a closer look, so we gave chase. We played cat and mouse with this group for the better part of 30 minutes on the edge of the palm forests, but in the end, they always managed to stay just out of harm’s way. Too many sets of eyes that day and it just wasn’t in the cards. We decided to take a slight detour on the way back to camp to an area that was heavily forested with palms, but was dissected by a couple of what I would call creeks but were probably more like long channels. This place was teeming with warthogs, and we would affectionately refer to it as Warthog City for the remainder of the trip. Amazingly enough, other than an odd bushbuck here and there, this place was predominantly warthogs, which was different than just about any other place we had come across so far. Bredger decided to take one more excursion in Warthog City before heading back for lunch and hugged a row of palms and hardwoods that led to one of the aforementioned creeks. About a quarter of a mile in, he stepped on the brakes and shut off the cruiser - we all saw it at the same time and were out of the cruiser in an instant. It was by far the biggest warthog I had ever seen, and it was laying down in some brush not 80 yards in front of us. Bredger had the sticks out and I was right behind him, while everyone else sat tight. The hog was up in a flash and made tracks for the thick stuff, a mere 15 yards in front of him. He disappeared into the thick riverine cover, so we made a big circle to come in on the other side, all to no avail – the big tusker was nowhere to be seen, nor was there any sign of him. As we made the short walk back to the cruiser, Bredger exclaimed, “that was a f’n toad!”, easily the most excited I had seen him about any animal on the entire trip. The thought of that hog giving us the slip haunted me, but it was not to be our last encounter.

We had a great lunch followed by a short nap, before heading back to the sand forests in search of hartebeest or nyala. The hartebeest seemed to be pretty much in every one of the ecosystems, so we were always on the lookout for them. The nyala on the other hand seemed to favor the thick stuff, and the sand forests were prime habitat. We had seen a ton of nyala in the first nine days, and to me, they were by far the wiliest of all the animals in Coutada 11. Rarely did you ever see one standing still, unless it was a female or a young male. I later discussed this at length with @RR 314 and he had quite the opposite experience on one of his safaris. I’m not quite sure what to attribute that difference to, but I knew a big mature bull would be a well-earned trophy in Coutada 11. On this particular afternoon, we were joined by Bernard, one of the ZDS helicopter pilots, who flies mostly anti-poaching missions, but had the afternoon off. He asked Bredger if he could join us, who looked at me and I said “of course.” Bredger explained to Bernard he might have to sit back on some stalks, to which he replied, “as long as I’ve got my cigs and the cooler is full, I’ll be good!” Bernard has a big personality and based on our time together in camp, we knew if nothing else, his participation was going to make for an entertaining afternoon - he did not let us down.

We made our way from pan to pan, and saw a good number of nyala, but they were always on the run or not quite we were looking for. We set out on a walkabout down an old sandy road that was directly into the wind. Vosco knew of a waterhole that was up ahead, and we eased our way single file down the sandy tracks, with Bernard in the rear. He was wearing some sort of bright yellow tee-shirt, so Ian gave him his long sleeve AusCam shirt to wear over that, and at least provide some semblance of camouflage. The wind was perfect, and we walked quietly down the road, as the sandy tire tracks muted any sound of footsteps. If ever there was a perfect stalk, this was going to be it. After a quarter of a mile, Vosco gave us a hand signal indicating we were getting close, so we all slowed down to his pace. The waterhole was less than a hundred yards off the road to our left and was surrounded by reeds that must have been anywhere from five feet up to at least eight feet tall. There were little gaps here and there where animals had pushed the reeds aside, making permanent trails where they could go down to the water and drink. This was the only visibility we had of the waterhole, which I’m guessing was seventy-five yards long and not even ten yards across. At first it appeared we had struck out, but upon closer inspection we realized that was not the case. Alberto pointed out a set of scimitar shaped horns off to our right, barely visible above the reeds. First there was a single sable bull, and then another one magically appeared next to him. These guys were literally within bow distance, yet we couldn’t see them, and they couldn’t see us. Their horns disappeared for a few minutes, but we could see the reeds moving close to the water, where they had gone down for a drink. Bredger happened to look back at the other end of the waterhole and lightly snapped his fingers. There was a lone buffalo with two feet in the water drinking at the far end. We really couldn’t tell much about him because he was partially obstructed by reeds. Just about the time I was wondering why on earth he would come in almost downwind from us, he whirled and crashed through the reeds like a freight train. Bredger turned to Vosco and Alberto, asking if they thought it was a lone bull – they both nodded yes. He chuckled as we walked back towards the cruiser and muttered to himself, something to the effect of “where is a lone bull like that when I’m looking for one?” A valid question that I’m sure every PH has asked himself at one time or another.

We got back to the cruiser and continued through a series of pans. We saw plenty of nyala, sable, reedbuck, warthog and hartebeest, but no takers yet. In the third pan we happened across a group of nyala bulls feeding on the far side of the pan some six hundred yards away. Bredger stood on the backseat of the cruiser with his binocs and after about 30 seconds said, “get your rifle.” He told Bernard he would have to sit this one out and that he needed him to guard the 2M with his life. Bernard gave us a big grin, said “no problem and good luck boys” and off we went. We probably only had an hour and fifteen minutes of good light left, so hastily back tracked down the sandy road and entered the forest as part of a half mile arc that we expected would bring us in on a favorable wind from the nyala. Given the time constraints, we picked up the pace through the large canopy of trees and didn’t even attempt to avoid the dry leaves that blanketed the forest floor. Luckily, with the wind in our favor, we were able to make it to the edge of the pan with plenty of light left and set up under a big palm tree with the wind to our 3 o’clock. That was the good news. The bad news was that we were still over two hundred yards away without any cover to get closer. We probably could have backtracked and come in from our 9 o’clock, which would have been straight downwind from the nyala, but we were running out of time and that would also have had us looking directly into the sun. Bredger asked me how I felt about that shot, so I set up the shooting sticks where I could lean into the big palm tree next to me - it was rock solid, so I gave him a thumbs up. There were eight or nine bulls straight in front of us, but only their heads, horns and an occasional chevron were visible above the tall grass. Vitals were completely obstructed, and with the exception of two open areas where they would occasionally graze through, there wasn’t much chance for a shot. Bredger, Vosco and Alberto began the search for our bull, and it wasn’t long before they confirmed amongst themselves it was the third bull from the left. Bredger turned to me and said, “he’s a good one, but we’ve got to wait until he hits that open spot.” He had lasered our bull in that 225 to 235 yard range, as it was hard to get an accurate read. While that is a long shot off sticks at a small target, I was totally confident and comfortable with our set up.

nyala stalk through the forest

As the bull neared the opening, I went through my progressions while Bredger reminded me “don’t forget your hold,” which I knew was going to be about 10+/- inches at that distance. He was casually moving from right to left and needed about two more body lengths to be in the clear for a shot. Just about that time, he inexplicably turned away from us and started moving towards another bull that had come into the picture, but back into the deep grass again. The waiting game was on and Bredger instructed me to relax for a bit. It seemed like we waited forever, but I’m guessing it was probably no more than ten minutes when our bull started moving back towards the opening. The bull was obviously in no hurry and the next five minutes were excruciating. Finally, he started to clear some of the obstacles. With two feet in the opening, Bredger said, “just wait.” He took two more steps, had cleared everything and was now casually grazing in the short grass. Bredger calmly said, “take him next time he picks his head up.” The shot rang out - it was one of those where you don’t even feel the trigger break and I was confident it was going to be perfect. The bull jumped straight in the air and landed in the tall grass on the other side of the opening, while the others scattered at the shot. Bredger made a remark that the bull reacted like I had hit him low. Those words hit me like a slap in the face and a sick feeling overcame me, as I now realized I had done the one thing Bredger had warned me about – I had failed to account for my hold in the wait that followed our initial engagement. I was literally sick to my stomach. The bull was trying to get up, but we couldn’t see enough for a follow-up shot because of the tall grass. Ultimately, he laid down in that same spot and we knew he had his head up, as we could barely see the tips of his horns moving from time to time. It was obvious this was not going to be an immediately fatal shot, but we knew exactly where he was and soon made a plan.

The shot

Alberto would sit tight at the palm tree and keep eyes on the bull, while the rest of us would take a wide berth to our left and come in dead downwind from the bull. We still had a setting sun to deal with, so we had to wait until it dropped below the tree line before we could attempt a follow-up. The recovery effort was further complicated by a number of bulls that had stayed in the general vicinity and had resumed feeding. We took great care to only move when their heads were down as we approached from the East. Bredger and I were maybe 15 feet apart with Vosco in the middle and Ian behind us. Bredger and I had long ago discussed protocol on any follow-up shots, and I had made it abundantly clear there would be no pride of authorship when it came to recovery of a wounded animal. Consequently, we were both at the ready – I would take anything that went to our right, Bredger would cover the left flank and if it went straight away, well, whoever could get on it first had honors. I had my Z8i cranked down to one power on the Jeffery with the illuminated reticle on and Bredger had a red dot on his Heym double, which was perfect for the situation as we expected the encounter to be close. As we eased forward, we constantly kept track of where Alberto was to ensure no one took a shot in his direction, which was now at 90 degrees and 200 plus yards to our right. When we got to about eighty yards, several of the bulls saw us and took off to our left, but one just kept feeding with his head down. At about thirty-five yards, he made eye contact with us, froze for a split second and then also exited stage left. I looked at Bredger and asked, “are you sure that isn’t my bull?” “That’s not your bull,” he said. Vosco took another look at Alberto and then pointed straight in front of us, shaking his finger as if to say, “he’s right there!” No sooner had he stopped pointing than my bull popped up and bolted to our right and then back behind us. It was obvious he was operating on three legs, because his head was going up and down like a pump-jack as he ran, although it didn’t appear to slow him down one bit. Once he had cleared Alberto’s position by a safe margin, I raised the Jeffery and swung like I was following a low flying pheasant. As I caught up with him and began to pass, I squeezed the trigger, and he crumpled at the shot. It was not unlike a drill we had practiced multiple times at FTW, and I was glad we had done so. Ian was the most excited about the turn of events and exclaimed, “you smoked him, Dad!” Bredger said he was toast as we slowly covered the forty or so yards to the downed bull. The first words out of his mouth were, “oh f---, you hit him in the head!” My heart sunk for a few seconds, until Bredger proclaimed, “everything is intact – no harm done!” I was extremely relieved that we had been able to recover this magnificent bull. They truly are one of the most beautiful animals in Africa and I only wish I had done my part on the first shot. As expected, it was low – it broke his left shoulder and went through his brisket but was too low for the vitals. My second shot had entered the right side of his neck about two inches below his right ear and exited through his chevron next to his left eye – he was dead before he even hit the ground on that one.

The bull that wouldn't leave

In search of the downed bull

getting close

Recovery

We were running out of light fast, so hurriedly took some pics before Bredger and Vosco took off across the pan to retrieve the cruiser. It was almost dark by the time they got back, but we still took the opportunity to have our celebratory 2M and toast the nyala bull. Bernard was in rare form as usual and amused us all with tales from the truck as he awaited our return. As it turned out, Bernard had seen two male lions on the edge of this very pan two days prior while running an anti-poaching flight. He told us how his mind was playing games, and he started seeing lions everywhere. Even though we had left a rifle for protection, and we had parked in a wide-open area, he decided to move inside the cab as the sun began to go down. We all laughed as he described in great detail his quandary about running out of beer but not wanting to get out of the cab to retrieve them, for fear his two friends might be waiting on him. Ultimately, the desire for beer won out and he was all the more entertaining for it. The ride home was a happy one, but Bredger and I still made time to do a postmortem around my first shot. We both agreed the long wait played into my mistake, and while it fortunately worked out this time, it was a hard lesson learned that would hopefully never be repeated. That said, our spirits were not dampened by any stretch and we recounted the events of the day that led us to this very special animal and another Coutada encore!

A magnificent nyala

Craig and Bredger

Next up: THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES

 

[Ku-winda]

Found one more pic of my nyala bull I was looking for that I thought it was pretty cool. As referenced in my prior post, we were pretty much running out of light as we hurried to get our pics in, so really didn't have the best results to show for it. However, on the way back to camp there was this unbelievable moon and Bredger thought we should stop and try to capture that image in a photo with the bull. Anyway, the following photo was the result of that exercise and one I thought worthy of sharing.

 

[RR 314]

What a great nyala (and recap)! It screams for a full body mount. I hope you have room . . . and didn't cape it for a shoulder mount. .

 

[Ku-winda]

What a great nyala (and recap)! It screams for a full body mount. I hope you have room . . . and didn't cape it for a shoulder mount. .

Thanks @RR 314 - I did have it caped for a full body mount, but my fallback position is going to be a pedestal or a wall pedestal mount. Floor space is always at a premium, so not sure what I am going to do yet! As @Dirtdart is fond of saying, "I'll wait and see how the sprit moves me" and just go from there!

 

[PARA45]

Found one more pic of my nyala bull I was looking for that I thought it was pretty cool. As referenced in my prior post, we were pretty much running out of light as we hurried to get our pics in, so really didn't have the best results to show for it. However, on the way back to camp there was this unbelievable moon and Bredger thought we should stop and try to capture that image in a photo with the bull. Anyway, the following photo was the result of that exercise and one I thought worthy of sharing.

View attachment 666666

Man, what a great Nyala. Congratulations, that is one stud of a Nyala. WOW!!!