Boela
AH enthusiast
- Joined
- May 11, 2015
- Messages
- 282
- Reaction score
- 775
- Location
- Richards Bay
- Media
- 30
- Articles
- 3
- Member of
- Zululand Hunters & Conservation Association, South African Hunters Association, PHASA
- Hunted
- South Africa, England, Wales, Austria, Swaziland, US: Idaho, Alaska
It all started with a text message from a Game Farm manager about an hour’s drive North of me stating that he had some end of season specials on cull Nyala. I immediately replied and made a booking for two hunters and two observers over a weekend. This would then allow my wife to accompany me together with one more hunter and an observer for an end of season Zululand hunt.
I have had the opportunity to hunt Nyala on numerous occasions but for one person which I knew, the opportunity to hunt a Nyala always remained a dream as a Non-Trophy hunter. I was extremely excited when I made the phone call to my Dad informing him that at last he had the opportunity to fulfill a long time dream of his – hunting a Nyala at an affordable price as a meat hunter. With this being another first for him, I could hear the excitement in his voice increase with every second that our phone call lasted. I was extremely excited about this hunt, for I had another opportunity to hunt with the one person that taught me the most about hunting techniques, the ethics of hunting and which was ultimately responsible for my hunting career and love for Mod70’s.
The excitement grew and the Wednesday evening before our scheduled hunt I was already checking everything over- from my rifle, to the rig on my hunting vehicle. I spoke to Dad and he too was cleaning his .243 Mod70 that he shoots 99% of the time with. Come Thursday morning, I was even more excited and was contemplating on phoning him yet again when my phone rang – Dad was phoning, or so I thought. I was greeted by my father’s wife and she broke the news. Dad was in ICU. He was rushed to the ER earlier in the morning suffering from chest pain. He had doctors at his bedside deciding on what to do after being diagnosed with having water on his heart.
I was shocked to say the least, and with the best help at his side at that moment, I could not do anything about the situation. It was with regret that I had to cancel this much anticipated hunt which had led to so much excitement. I phoned the Game Farm manager and informed him of the situation. He understood the predicament we faced but to my delight – he suggested to rather postpone the hunt to a time that suited us all.
Fast forward a few weeks, an operation for Dad combined with a couple of weeks of rest and a few changes here and there, the hunt was back on! This time, it will be the two of us and a friend of mine also seeking to shoot his first Nyala.
Saturday, 19 November at 04:48am the whining of BFG’s could be heard on the N2 tarmac as the three of us headed North. The drive itself was uneventful and it felt like hours before we took the all familiar turnoff which led to the lodge. We wasted no time in getting ourselves sorted and down to the shooting range. The sky was clear and the humidity high and with the temperature rising by the minute, we all realized that it was to be one of those typical hot and sticky Zululand days.
After sighting in our rifles we headed out. To the West of us there were some low hills covered with thick bush and we headed straight in that direction. With the little early for seasonal rains we had, the bush was a lovely bright green color and would the game in the area soon be on condition again after the very hard drought they have just been through.
It was not long before we spotted the first Nyala suitable to the criteria. Dad and I got off the vehicle and started the stalk. The bull was browsing downhill and was below us with the sun on our right. We had not gone far from where we last saw the bull as it disappeared behind some low bush before we could see his moving horns above some leaves. The bull slowly paced from left to right. We stood where we were scared that we might spook the bull and I set up the sticks for Dad. The bull stepped partially clear from the bush at about 60m and stopped – looking straight at us.
I could see the excitement in Dad as he was aiming, his rifle’s muzzle weaving ever so slightly. I knew that the cross hairs would be all over the place at that moment but within a second or two he was standing steady with no movement what so ever from his rifle.
At the shot, the bull dropped in its tracks even before the report back of a solid hit could be heard. As we cautiously walked closer, rifles at the ready, we found the bull lying on its side. His charcoal coat was shining in the morning sun in stark contrast with all the greenery around us. This was the perfect start to a day that brought not only another opportunity for Dad to shoot a second Nyala, but so too did my friend shoot his first Nyala…. a story for him to tell.
I have had the opportunity to hunt Nyala on numerous occasions but for one person which I knew, the opportunity to hunt a Nyala always remained a dream as a Non-Trophy hunter. I was extremely excited when I made the phone call to my Dad informing him that at last he had the opportunity to fulfill a long time dream of his – hunting a Nyala at an affordable price as a meat hunter. With this being another first for him, I could hear the excitement in his voice increase with every second that our phone call lasted. I was extremely excited about this hunt, for I had another opportunity to hunt with the one person that taught me the most about hunting techniques, the ethics of hunting and which was ultimately responsible for my hunting career and love for Mod70’s.
The excitement grew and the Wednesday evening before our scheduled hunt I was already checking everything over- from my rifle, to the rig on my hunting vehicle. I spoke to Dad and he too was cleaning his .243 Mod70 that he shoots 99% of the time with. Come Thursday morning, I was even more excited and was contemplating on phoning him yet again when my phone rang – Dad was phoning, or so I thought. I was greeted by my father’s wife and she broke the news. Dad was in ICU. He was rushed to the ER earlier in the morning suffering from chest pain. He had doctors at his bedside deciding on what to do after being diagnosed with having water on his heart.
I was shocked to say the least, and with the best help at his side at that moment, I could not do anything about the situation. It was with regret that I had to cancel this much anticipated hunt which had led to so much excitement. I phoned the Game Farm manager and informed him of the situation. He understood the predicament we faced but to my delight – he suggested to rather postpone the hunt to a time that suited us all.
Fast forward a few weeks, an operation for Dad combined with a couple of weeks of rest and a few changes here and there, the hunt was back on! This time, it will be the two of us and a friend of mine also seeking to shoot his first Nyala.
Saturday, 19 November at 04:48am the whining of BFG’s could be heard on the N2 tarmac as the three of us headed North. The drive itself was uneventful and it felt like hours before we took the all familiar turnoff which led to the lodge. We wasted no time in getting ourselves sorted and down to the shooting range. The sky was clear and the humidity high and with the temperature rising by the minute, we all realized that it was to be one of those typical hot and sticky Zululand days.
After sighting in our rifles we headed out. To the West of us there were some low hills covered with thick bush and we headed straight in that direction. With the little early for seasonal rains we had, the bush was a lovely bright green color and would the game in the area soon be on condition again after the very hard drought they have just been through.
It was not long before we spotted the first Nyala suitable to the criteria. Dad and I got off the vehicle and started the stalk. The bull was browsing downhill and was below us with the sun on our right. We had not gone far from where we last saw the bull as it disappeared behind some low bush before we could see his moving horns above some leaves. The bull slowly paced from left to right. We stood where we were scared that we might spook the bull and I set up the sticks for Dad. The bull stepped partially clear from the bush at about 60m and stopped – looking straight at us.
I could see the excitement in Dad as he was aiming, his rifle’s muzzle weaving ever so slightly. I knew that the cross hairs would be all over the place at that moment but within a second or two he was standing steady with no movement what so ever from his rifle.
At the shot, the bull dropped in its tracks even before the report back of a solid hit could be heard. As we cautiously walked closer, rifles at the ready, we found the bull lying on its side. His charcoal coat was shining in the morning sun in stark contrast with all the greenery around us. This was the perfect start to a day that brought not only another opportunity for Dad to shoot a second Nyala, but so too did my friend shoot his first Nyala…. a story for him to tell.
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