THE NILGAI MARINES
Outfitter: Tyler Hill (no relation as my in-laws is Hills)

Booking Agent: Well, this was a hunt promoted by David Keith. David Keith was clear that he was not the booking agent for Tyler. This did violate AR’s rules prohibiting third party hunt offers. Saeed and David Keith have addressed this.

Location: Port Mansfield, Texas and Raymondville.

Hunt Partner: Bugle’em In.

Rifle: I was using Scarlet, the USRA, Winchester Model 70 Custom Shop maned Scarlet. Bugle’em In was brought three rifles, but hunted with a Browning Stainless Steel A-Bolt Stalker chambered for.338 Winchester Magnum, with the factory brake.

Scopes: I have a VX6HD with Firedot 2X12 with 44 mm objective and 30mm tube on the Scarlet. I think, Bulge’em In had a Zeiss DL 3-12X50mm objective and 30 mm tube.

Ammunition: I was using 225 grain, Accubonds at 2700 fps. This is the load I killed my cow elk and small whitetail with last year. I have my rifle sighted 3.5 inches at 100 yards for a 250 yard zero. Bulge’Em In was using 210 grain Partitions. I am unaware of his load’s specifications.

Game seen: Nilgai Bulls, Whitetail, Ducks of unknown description, and Rio Grande Turkeys.

Game Fish Caught: Red Fish 20-23 inches.
The book is for three nights of hunting. Hunting in the summer is done at night with fishing in the mid-morning to afternoon. Tyler and his brother hunt nilgai and whitetail during the day in the fall and winter. The Nilgai rut starts in October.

The Bulls: I have always read that Nilgai bulls are a 600 pound animal. Tyler is killing them in the high 800s. I have seen them alive and dead. I have no doubt.

The Hunting Area: Someone opined that Tyler is hunting waste islands with the implication being not to hunt with Tyler because he only has access to these islands. If this is why one would not hunt with him, this is foolish. The islands are full of Nilgai. There is a boarder the hunting party cannot cross. Tyler was very observant of this, and did not push the issue. This is no different than any other hunting area bordering a park in Africa or a hunt adjacent to Yellowstone. This is much to do about noting.

Boat: 21 foot Carolina Skiff. This boat is like a cross between a flat boat and a v-haul with approximately two and a half foot gunwalls. I can see why Tyler likes this type of boat. He can get into shallow water, not as shallow as a true flats boat, but it is much better for the more open water. The front end of the boat slapped us in the front to death in the rough water we were dealt. However, if setting on the back captain station, the ride is very smooth.
Gun Handling: We kept the rifles magazines loaded, but rifle chambers cleared and rifles decocked when not on land. We would always clear and decock before getting on the boat.


Chapter I: We Are Off:
My Uncle and I decided we would drive to Port Mansfield. He loves to travel by vehicle. My Uncle in 2007 did 10,000 miles on a motorcycle across the United States. He loves to drive these trips. I prefer flying. My Uncle had not done a trip like this in years. So, we loaded up the Chevy, rigged up a refrigerator in the back of the truck. The route is down to Chattanooga, through Alabama, down the Mississippi, cross the Mississippi River at Baton Rouge, straight through Houston, and an hour and half past Corpus Christi, Texas. My Father Law told me before I left, “You are going through Houston. Take your pistol, and do not take it off.” I found that sound, but on this trip not needed advice. I could not help but think of the scene from Lonesome Dove when Tommy Lee Jones character gives the son he refuses to acknowledge a revolver and cartridge belt when heading for Mexico to steal cattle stolen from Texas. “Here, it is better to have that and not needed it, than to need it and not have it.”

As anyone who knows me knows, I am an insomniac. I have gone over 36 hours without REM sleep. I have found the cure for insomnia. The cure is driving across Louisiana in the pitch dark. I drove the Louisiana leg on the way back this was during the day for the majority. I have no idea how I drove through those poorly, under construction roads half asleep safely.

I mentioned the internet said we would need 24 hours to make this trip. We did it in less than 18 hours. We did have some struggles on the way back, which will be detailed at the end, that prevented us from making this time.

We arrived too early. This was obviously not our intention and the condo was not ready. We were suppose to arrive at 3:30 to 4:00 p.m. We arrived before noon. Port Mansfield is right on the coast of the Gulf. Those waste islands form a sea wall between the town and harbor with the gulf. That may not be the right description. I am not qualified to Captain a rubber duck in a bath tub. Bugle’em In is a boatman. He may comment more appropriately on the boat and water situations. Port Mansfield is also very small. I doubt on any given day it has the quoted 300 odd people in it. The nice part of town is on a road called South Point. The Condo is in the backyard of Tyler’s in-laws. Mario his father in-law is a commercial fisherman. Boats and fish were coming in at all hours of the night. Mario starts his day at 6:00 a.m. and does not end to after 11:00 p.m. I know because I am an insomniac. The Condo is split level. The big bed and larger Kitchenet is upstairs. The bottom stairs’ level has a smaller bed and a smaller Kitchenet. I do not know what the size of the beds are. I am not a house keeper or woman.

My Uncle was unable to access the bottom unit. So, he got a room at the LaQunita in Raymondville which is about 25 minutes away. Tyler offered to refund me partially for this. He did so unsolicited. I told him know as the issue was not his fault. The LaQunita was nice and cheap at $59.00 dollars a night. We would go to Raymondville for diner, so when I return in November, I am going to stay at the LaQunita as well. I grew up rough. The Condo is no where near as rough as I grew up in, but it is older and needs to be professionally cleaned.

CHAPTER II: You Can’t Fight the Weather:

We had booked for the 27th through the 30th with departure being the morning of the 30th. We say a nice 150-inch buck bedded down against the post office during the day. Our party had dinner together in Raymondville at a little Mexican diner called Grandma’s. Here we would call it a dirty spoon, but I got some kind of stew, beef and found it enjoyable. My Uncle had a very strange dish that was part Mexican and part German. He was very happy with the sausage. His family business was as a sausage and ham producer. We are hard to please with food Bulge’em In graciously paid for this first dinner. Bugle’em In and I flipped each other with him calling for first shot. I won. What we did not know was he had really won.

Tyler arrived at about 10:00 p.m. with Nick, his brother for us to head out on this first hunt. We got on the boat and headed for the arena. Now, the bad of this trip. The weather was horrible. A tropical storm of some degree had cut across Florida into the Gulf. We spent the entire trip watching a larger cell just off the coast. The problem was the wind and breath of this cell, kept smaller storms and high winds blowing for all but the last charge. Tyler and Nick took us out to try to salvage as much of the trip as they could.

The first outing the wind was so bad, the rain kicking, lighting coming in that we could not land on the islands. We did a quick scan of the coast of one island. The storm was coming fast and hard, lighting bolted and waterspouts were within sight. We had to turn around. I yelled over the storm registering like a whisper to Bulge’em In sitting right next to me with my arm over his shoulder, “You need adventure in your life! Adventure, keeps the arteries clear!” We made it in. Tyler apologized for the events. “You can’t fight the weather.” We made plans to try to be on the water by 9:00 a.m. in the morning for Red Fish. The plan had been for Red Snapper earlier in the day, but the storm was not going to allow that.

9:00 a.m. came and became 10:00 a.m. because of the storm. Tyler used this time to have his boat serviced. I told Tyler I was concerned we would not be able to get my Uncle on the water. “Do not worry about that. I will get him on.”
Tyler succeeded with a smile, thank you, and graciousness getting my Uncle on the boat, and more importantly and more difficultly off the boat. Wind speed was 28 miles per hour. The waves were white capping. The Red Fish Plan had been to run up to a brackish creek spewing into the Gulf. This was not possible. Tyler headed for a larger more protected pocket. The boats that left with us turned back.

We were fishing with cut mullet and Tyler’s gear. I am not a real fishhead. Tyler’s gear was more than sufficient, nothing fancy, and his location choice was correct, because in less than 10 minutes of bating my Uncle’s hook my Uncle had a 23 inch Red Fish on the line. The Red did not know he was hooked and swam with the reel most of the way. When he got to about three feet from the boat he realized his life was on the line and went mad. He had his brother’s escorting him in. We actually got confused between the escorts and the fish on the line. Tyler boated him. Bulge’em In took photographs. He was a beautiful Red Fish. More fish were caught. I became the champion catfish catcher. Bulge’em In did not have any action. We could not stay long as the storm was about to sit down on top of us. Tyler got us in and turned the Red Fish into Red Fish on a half shell. The Red Fish are waiting in my Freezer to be dressed up with olive oil, sea salt, fresh ground black pepper, fresh thyme, and our smoker. This should happen next week.

The night came. Tyler decided we had enough break in the weather to make a run. The big cell was a piece from us, but the wind and storms springing off were not going away. The wind speed was 28 miles per hour. We could not make it to the islands. We swung wide. “We are in the Intercoastal.” Bugle’em In told me.

“What!? Why are we so far out!?” We are shouting over the storm. We can barley hear one another eating waves coming over the gunwalls.

The surf is gentler out here then in nearer the shore. The idea is to get adjacent with the shore, and come in with the wind.” Bugle’em In tried to educate me.

I remember blinking as I searched my logic for a rebuttal, “Yeah, but big boats play out here.” I saw Bugle’em In throw his head back in a laugh.
Someone has more balls than I do, because they were anchored at the opening of a creek and the gulf night fishing in that blow. We thought they were broke down at first. Nick went to them.
They did not return his flash and had electricity, so we left them.

We did find an old lone, cow. She was grey like a bull at the beach. We got as close as we could, and killed the engine letting the waves take us in. Nick and today’s second Bones got off to try to stabilize the boat. I was prone across the front bow using my pack as a rest. My elbows were rested on the bow. We got within 60 yards of her. A good man with a rope would have lassoed her. I could not make the shot. Everyone was trying their best to stabilize the platform. I could not bring myself to try the shot.

We headed back in. The front of the boat was just smacking into the white caps, “My ass feels like a gay porn star’s ass!” I yelled overt to Bugle’em In who was sitting at my shoulder. The harbor is well sheltered and very calm. We saw some trout and a green wing teal.

Bugle’em In and I on returning back to the Condo, I start wiping the rifles down as I had done the night before with ballistol wipes. I buy them in sleeves. One wipe will do four guns, and the sleeves fit in my hard side SKB double gun case with ease for long and international travel.

I had brought Glendronach Sherry Aged, Port Finished Single Malt Scotch and Eagle Rare 10 year for toasting. I decided we needed a toast after getting the rifles squared away. I must say, I did a very good job keeping our rifles looking like what they did before they got to Port Mansfield. My rifle has a McMillan Stock, but is blued. Bugle’em In told me he had read that Browning Stainless Steel was really bad to rust for a stainless rifle. There would be and was no rusting on this trip. I also kept my rifle sleeved in my RedOx dog slip, and that in a zip up gun case. Bulge’em In kept his zipped in a soft sided case whenever he could. We had to dry these cases every night. I searched the sky for constellations. I kept trying to find the Orion the Hunter to give us some luck or blessing. I found one of the dippers. I could not get over from the first night how stark the night ski was here. The sky was like a quilt. One half being pure black with the flash of white. The second half had a clear stitch separating this deep black with a sky lit by stars brighter than I can recall seeing. I could not find Orion. I did find a dipper. I pointed it out to Bugle’em In. I told him, “I do not know which dipper it was.”

“There is the big dipper.”

The big cell did not land until the morning. This killed our last chance to fish. Tyler met with me boat ready at 9:00 a.m. to go over radar and make a plan. Sadly, we would not be able to go.

We met up with my Uncle in Mansfield. We played Rummy. Now, Rummy when three people are playing is suppose to be a triple threat, one for one game. My Uncle and Bugle’em In must have been crushed at my beating them the day before. Buglem’em playing to my Uncle’s left decided instead of playing cards, he would just give them to my Uncle to Rummy the board. I would come in second today.

We watched bands of rain come and go. Wind was high. I had resolved in my mind that this hunt was over and over before it started. “You can’t fight the weather.”

There is a town just three miles from the boarder. It is a larger town with a Bass Pro Shop, Cracker Barrel, other restaurants. We decided to go kill some time down there. I forget the name of the town. The name starts with an H and is about 20 minutes from Raymondville. Bass Pro Shop was large, but sadly like all other Bass Pro Shops and underwhelming. I had hope to pick up some ammo. Bugle’em In stepped up. He knew I love the 10 gauge. He brought me two boxes of Winchester black Box 10 gauge loads and three boxes of Nolser 7mm STW, 160 grain Accubonds. My man.

We let Bugle’em In choose where to eat. He chose Cracker Barrel. I ordered fried chicken and two orders of dumplings that I did not want nor like, but they charge you for two sides; even, when you do not order two sides. I was hoping they would be good, or Bugle’em In who ordered chicken and dumplings would eat them. I was wrong on both counts. Somehow this was good humor to my table mates. I did not believe we would be able to make one last run. So, I decided to eat heavy and ordered the chicken. Buglem’em In kept an eye the entire dinner on the radar. He held out hope we would have a break. The big cell when it made landfall had broken up. He texted Tyler.

Bugle’em In, in addition to being a hunter and boat man, is a photographer with some serious gear. Each time we would leave my Uncle in Raymondville and head back to Port Mansfield he would take pictures of the game we would see on the surrounding properties such as boar, strange Mexican Ducks, strange looking hawks (they may have been osprey), a few Nilgai cows, deer. However, the best photography came in Port Mansfield. Does just roam up and down the street, bedding to chew cud in folk’s yards. You cannot go down a street without seeking deer. We got out of the truck at the Condo, and Bugle’em In started taking pictures. Mario came up to me, “You need to go out to the airport. Right now, you will see big bucks and turkeys.”

“Thank you.” I relayed the information to Bugle’em In. We jumped in the truck and headed out.

We talked about the hunt. We agreed that we probably should not have been out the last two nights. I felt the first day was more serious, and Bugle’em In thought the second run was the roughest. Bugle’em In kept checking the trees. “That is the least amount of wind we have had.” He would pull up the radar. Now, I have been practicing my wind reading for the last two years under the correspondence class of Mat Dettore on AR.

“I would put it at 10 miles per hour.”

Bugle’em In looked up from his phone, “8 miles. We are going to have a good window.” He showed me the radar. The big cell was inland and broken with pieces either past us or below us.
We cut a deal. “You can have the shot. I have got the front the last two days, if I can have a quarter.”

I would like to say I was strong willed enough to leave it at that, but when opportunity presented itself, I asked again. There was no modification to the deal.
We both agreed that the weather had killed us. I hope Bugle’em In does not mind me thinking he was more frustrated than I. I do not like getting beat. We all want to think we can make something happen. What is hunting, but playing God and learning you are not. You decided what has lived long enough, served its purpose, and for the greater good from your point of view take the creatures life. Of course, this is encapsulated in a belief that you as the human are able to make this moral play happen. These animals do not owe us their lives. “You cannot fight the weather.” We both agreed Tyler and Nick was doing all they could to make this happen.

We got the call. Tyler picked us up at 9:30 that night. I could tell the weather had broke. Everyone had a different feel. I noticed Tyler and Nick had brought their big meat packing frame packs. I slapped Bugle’em In on the shoulder. “You are going to kill tonight!”
We hit the water. We could hear one another for the first time. The water was almost glass flat. We were riding up close to the islands. Tyler through the thermal made a spot of two nilgai. We hit the beach like marines storming an island held by the Japanese. Water swamped over the top of my leather boats. We made a push inland. The terrain was like walking in a Scottish bog filed with cactus and alligators. We moved forward without talking. A word to future marines, the bright ground that looks like solid sand, is muck. You will sink until your feet find the bottom.

We got up on them. Tyler told us they were two cows, and a little too close to the line for all but a neck shot. We decided to leave them. We were hunting now and could work back on them.
We took off across the island. We were on the backside of the beach. We marched without talking. The only noise was the water in my boots, the sound of skin and cloth on cactus, and mystiques in my ear. I was loving it as a good sweat worked up. We stopped. Tyler pointed an alligator out to me to our right. We had the bank of the shore to our left and a large pan to our right. You could here her cruppering. We kept up the march.

I would look up to the sky as I could to find Orion. I could not find him. I could not time how long we marched. We came to a stop. Bugle’em In whispered to me, “This is what we have been wanting to do all along.”

We kept going. We reached the end of that island. The next island was across the gulf. Tyler sent a text to Nick to pick us up. The plan was to go back down by boat and pick up those two cows.

As we were on the boat, I could not help but ask Bugle’em In, “Do you want the shot?” Of course, he did, and that was fine.
I am kind of hard of hearing. This boat and shore stuff is deceptive to my eyes. Nick cut the engine off and pointed to the boat to the shore for us to coast in for a landing. My eyes could see what I thought was the shore, but we were hitting the shore long before I thought we should. We drifted in unknown to me Tyler had said, “Bull.” Bugle’em In had heard this. I simply heard Tyler say, “Someone get up here with me.” I slid with Scarlet cradled in my right arm against my side. I saw Tayler jump. Before I could stand to jump, I saw the shadow of Bugle’em In go over. I followed. We were at a crouch, but near running pace. I knew game was in front of us and moving. Bugle’em In did not bring his sticks this time. If I had been a good and preceptive friend, I would have grabbed them. I am not those things.

We finally came up I moved to the right to give Tyler and Bugle’em In room. I heard Tyler say, Bull” this time. I went to my knee. Tyler lit up the bull. There was silence. I found the bull in the scope. In hindsight going down is not a good idea. The immediate problem is this stuff is knee high. I could only see the bulls head and just the first few inches of neck at the base of the skull. No shot came. “His eyes are lit up.”
I spoke, “Facing left to right.” I could see his color and horn.

Bulge'em In found him in the scope. The 338 Winchester did not bark, it exploded like a nuclear bomb.

I saw a bull not fifty yards from me in the dark and board side at the edge of the light lurch into a pan.

Tyler very calmly, “Miss.” I looked up. Tyler and Bugle’em In were off after the other bull. I got up and caught up just as Tyler was lighting up the bull again. I could see the bull board side. I came to the right, and took a sitting position on what appeared to be solid sand. This was a mistake because it was that muck. My force coming down sunk me to my waste. I remember putting my right hand out on solid ground to push myself up. I Scarlet in my shoulder with the left hand. I pushed up and looked up at the bull in the scope. He had just started to trot than as he tensed to break into a run. The second hydrogen bomb was set off by Bugle’em In. I watched the bull never break stride and disappear behind a rise of land.

“That is the way it is supposed to be every night.” Bugle’em In told Tyler. We all concurred as we boarded the boat. Tyler’s next group was arriving that night.

“I have never cussed a man I have not met, but those fatherless sons are very lucky!” I informed Tyler.
Bugle’em In and I both agree if only we would have had a full set of rounds with better weather.

When we arrived back at the Condo, Tyler told me he wanted us back to get this done on Nilgai. I told Tyler I would not do that, but would book a duck hunt with him and we could chase Nilgai if he wanted to. Bugle’em In agreed to come with me. So, we got it on the calendar. Bugle’em In and I will be back in Port Mansfield to shoot at some ducks and chase big nilgai bulls on the islands. Tyler and Nick told us that in the late fall and winter they hunt nilgai both during the day and night, so you get more opportunities. I again thanked Tyler for all he did for us and my Uncle. I shook his hand. Bugle’em In shook Nick’s hand. Tyler and Nick gave us some nilgai and whitetail to take home.

I feel I must address some controversy surrounding this hunt. First, my observations and experiences are my own. I have no issue rebooking with Tyler. Other outfitters would have not taken my Uncle fishing and other Outfitters would not have tried this hard to get us on the game.

I am not going to speak of the islands anymore. I addressed that in the Tale of the Tape. I will say the islands are full of sign, and game. The hunting although flat is somewhat physical because of the terrain. If you are unable or unwilling to hit the land, they can hunt from the boat.

I have never hunted at night before except coyotes and coons. I have hunted Europe a fair amount where night hunting is common. I have never hunted at night or with artificial light in Europe. I am scheduled go back to Europe, but that is looking less likely anytime soon due to Covid. That trip has been pushed twice. This Covid pushing, like the weather, is no one’s fault or control. Hunting deer at night is illegal in Texas. If you have booked the deer and nilgai combo, you will not be hunting deer at night. Every move Tyler and his team made, I observed to be in cautious observation of the law. All of that said to say this. I have no issue hunting this Nilgai at night. I would prefer to hunt during daylight if only because the absence of sun makes making that shot and the march more difficult. This hunt is just like those coastal bear hunts one sees out of Prince William in Alaska or the ABC Islands with the artificial light of an leopard hunt.

This is not a luxurious hunt. The marine aspect of it, makes it more at the mercy to weather. If you want a luxurious hunt, by all means hunt the King Ranch. I plan to do so one day. The King has a two day hunt at $3,600 dollars for two people each, but I do not know if this includes lodging and meals. The King’s one day hunt does not include lodging and meals except a packed lunch. Tyler contract guides for the King Ranch for the King Ranch’s clients.

Someone eluded to Tyler having issues presented on Facebook by Clients. I do not do Facebook. Bugle’em In does. He spoke to Tyler at length about this. I do not claim to know the whole story, but here are some facts that are facts:
1) The guy booked one nilgai;
2) Nick guided him;
3) He killed a bull that weighed 800 pounds the first night in the first hour on the same islands we were hunting;
4) He got angry when Tyler would not take him out for the next night after he killed. Yes, Nick had duck hunters the next day, but if they man had not killed Tyler and Bones would have took him.
5) I wish sitting in that storm unable to hunt, I had his problem.
6) The man swore out Tyler’s pregnant wife after killing a bull on the first round in the first hour.
Ladies, and Gentleman of the Jury. You embody reason. Reason when applied to the facts is justice. The witness lays, not stands, before you impeached and unreliable.

One last thing, frankly this makes me mad after seeking Tyler do the impossible for my Uncle. Someone has eluded to the Paypal situation, leaving the reader of his post to infer that Tyler was refusing a refund (I would never have refunded this man’s deposit for the record Okay, I probably would just for the optics of it, make someone happy I have said that before), and that Tyler had to be adjudicated by Paypal as a bad actor to receive payment. These representations are not true. The man was always going to get a refund. It was his use of Paypal that made the refund difficult. Tyler nor David Keith were represent they were not withholding anything and in agreement to refund. I am sure this man will have a response to this. I do not care. Everyone here knows that I try not to give offense and be level headed. Love me, Hate Me, Sodomize Me with a Broken Whiskey Decanter, this man is misrepresenting the situation concerning his refund.

Another Word on Paypal:

Yes, Tyler takes deposits via Paypal. Yes, I am not a fan of such things. However, is it all that different than wiring deposits or wiring escrow trophy fees most outfitters or booking agents do. I would rather use Paypal for such (except I hate their politics) than the experience I have had with my rural bank wiring these fees in the past.

Contracts?

Now, let us turn to what should be a more serious matter. The lack of a formal contract.
Texas by my standards is a strange state. Every building has no liable signs on them. I do not practice in Texas, but in most states these signs are not worth the paper they are written on because one cannot waive gross negligence or intentional bad acts. Tyler had me sign a three paragraph wavier. Every outfitter or guided hunt I have been on has had a similar waiver. I sign them. The last time I hunted Austria, I actually did not sign one as I had hunted with that outfit previously. We just do business. Now, on AR we have had controversy of overly complicated contracts. We have had controversy because contracts do not specify when an Outfitter can move a hunter for one location to another, or not move a hunter to a location. We have had guys who take the pure handshake approach. I observed that these guys are a little better healed than some of us, me included, and hunt with a few outfits a lot every year or so. I prefer a formal contract. However, I will say that I have now used two booking agents of large firms. I am not counting David Keith. One the largest of the large had a three-paragraph contract. They delivered on almost nothing except what I could force them to. The other, Arjun Reedy is great. He also used a three-paragraph contract. He has been great to work with, neither of these contracts, from a drafting standpoint, do I find sufficient. Yes, a formal contract would be best. Maybe David Keith will address this with Tyler. However, that paper in this industry is notoriously insufficient. Then, we get the other end of the scale with 30 page contracts that no one should engage in. The bottom line is the man or outfit you are dealing with is what matters. Here is the rub, no one knows when that union is going to go South. Tyler for us and this time showed himself to be a good man to engage in this business with. Make no mistake, this is a business to these folks.

I am trying to figure out how someone in absence of a contract that says, “You may cancel and receive a full refund of your deposit if you do so in written within X days.” thinks he is entitled to a refund. I am also at a loss for that person to not expect the deposit to be spent on operating expenses. I assume when I book with my Austrian Outfitter, my deposit goes to whatever overhead or expenses an outfitter has. Others may disagree.

Finally, recommended equipment list:

Ballistal Wipes;

Gum Boots up to the knee or Hip Boats, waders would be a good idea;
A good sleeve and soft case that easily fits over your rifle in the sleeve. RedOX dog slip is very good (bring two sets of hunting clothes);

If you stay in the condo, bring food and cooking utensils;

If you are a fishhead bring your own rod, pool, and line. Tyler will rig you up.

I hope Buglem’In will post pictures for us.

I almost forgot. My Uncle damaged his truck glass. We stopped at a place in Corpus Christie called Mo’s. They fixed it right. I thought they were fixing our wallet to. Nope, they shook our hand and sent us home with a comeback and no charge.

David Keith and Tyler have not seen this before posting. Bugle’em In has.

Nilgai are cool animals and very tough. I went in the early 80s with JD Jones and other friends on the Kenedy Ranch, across the road from the King. We only used handguns, mostly .375 JDJ Contenders. Got to kill a female and a bull for $1200!! The meat was fantastic.
Went years later and used my FA .475 Linebaugh revolver. Another one shooter. Challenging, but fun hunt.

What are "waste islands"?

All I found on Google concerned the oceanic garbage patch.

Waste Islands was the term used by the poster.

Tyler explained them to me in detail, but my memory note taking is only so good. The State owns and maintains them.

I think they are used for storm protection. I am not sure on that as I can’t remember the details, so I did not put it in the report.

Maybe Bugle’em In can give better info.

The islands are waste in the since they are waste sand piles up from decades of dredging channels for big boats. The idea is to use that material to restore the natural coastline.

Thanks, makes perfect sense.

We call them spoil islands or just spoils.

The "H" town is Harlingen.

The story that I heard was that the king ranch was the first to have nilgai as they thought they could use them in domestic production of meat but that the ranch hands found them to be too dangerous to work with so they just turned them out to roam freely. The eland would have been a much better choice and more docile.

Both gentlemen are correct. The town name, and the King Ranch. I think the King brought them in, in the 30s.

Nilgai are browsers. Also called giraffe neck antelope. Main food in their native land is sweet acacia. Huisache is a first cousin of sweet acacia. If you are familiar with Texas you under stand what a problem huisache is. First nilgai released were surplus animals from a zoo. It was hoped they would browse the lower limbs of the huisache brush. Long necks equal higher browse line than say goats with no coyote problem. Nilgai do not understand fences. Like so many other exotics they have spread where it is hospitable for them. That's the story that I heard! $.02 worth!

Actually in the 1920s Caesar Kleberg a pioneer in game management was working on the Norias Division of the King Ranch (South of Corpus Christi) his father was, I believe, head of operations for the King Ranch. He purchased the first Nilgai to help restock the Norias Division (Just South of Corpus)with game that had been subject to over hunting. His efforts proved very successful the Caesar Kleberg Wildlife Wildlife Institute in Kingsville is at the forefront of game management in Texas. The research of native Texas Game has proven very valuable. Bobwhite Quail is of particular importance to the Institute. I can testify having been fortunate to have hunted Quail on the Norias and Nilgai at the Chicago Camp the Ranch's game management has been a resounding success.

LawDog: I have no doubt about the management and no issue with it.

I figure to hunt the King one day. A lot of people are shocked when you tell them pheasants are a non-native, introduced species.

I think I read a ticket fever blamed on Nilgai almost wiped out the cattle industry, but that was on the internet, so may be overstated.

I too have heard Nilgai have been a problem with ticks. I don't think they could be more problematic than hogs. Depends on who you talk to as to whether Nilgai are pests or assets. They have certainly added to the hunting opportunities in Texas. I for one like to see them in the field and they are excellent on the table.

As to management the Institute has been a wonderful asset, they are excellent ambassadors for hunting. I don't know of any better source in Texas for scientifically based information. Their work tracking Bobwhite is amazing. I heard a presentation by the head of quail research from the institute, several years ago when we are in the midst of a bad drought. They determined using radio transmitters that quail moved as much as 80 miles in search of suitable habitat. I was shocked.

I think the wild Bob White Quail as the big horn sheep of the native upland game birds. They seem to be very sensitive. I seriously doubt many wild quail are to be found in the South East.

I wonder what pen raised birds from a genetic stand point have when bred to wild birds, if they breed at all.

S WS by place working to create a future for Wild Bob Whites is my kind of place.

I read Bob White need appropriate fire/burns for habitat. Fire has become taboo as of late.

Is the information being peer reviewed and published?

Contact the Institute I bet they can cover you up with information.
I don't think pen raised birds have ever had any real success.
South Texas is, I'm afraid, the last great wild habitat in the Nation although there are pockets of good Bobwhite quail habitat in North Texas and Oklahoma.

quote:

Originally posted by LHeym500:
I think the wild Bob White Quail as the big horn sheep of the native upland game birds. They seem to be very sensitive. I seriously doubt many wild quail are to be found in the South East.

I wonder what pen raised birds from a genetic stand point have when bred to wild birds, if they breed at all.

S WS by place working to create a future for Wild Bob Whites is my kind of place.

I read Bob White need appropriate fire/burns for habitat. Fire has become taboo as of late.

Is the information being peer reviewed and published?

I hunt a place that releases mass quantities of pen raised birds annually. 80,000 plus a year. Very few survive. I am told that they lack certain oils in the feathers. This results in them getting drenched repeatedly. They are weakened by this . They are more susceptible to illness and are easier for predators to catch.

Personally, I have seen them drenched with ran or fog. They are a ball of wet feathers.

I am seeing more and more on my place. I would not dream of hunting them.

The nilgai are excellent table fare. I just shot on in Pakistan in January. I wish I could have brought some home.

I am glad yall had a great trip. I do have to wonder if the outfitter was on his best behavior given the controversy?

The guys right behind us caught a window of good weather and killed a great bull.

I am leaving out details that make Tyler look even better. Why? those are personal snd no one’s business to be posted on the internet.


Everyone who has called me, I have told.

All I know is what I have seen and heard. Of this, I have told you. I hope others are treated as well.

I learned a long time ago, you get better results with a smile and open hand, then a snarl and a fist. Most of the time.

We once had plenty of bob white quail in east central texas near austin but when the fire ant plague hit in the 1970's they were suddenly gone, meadow larks too. Now that the fire ants are under reasonable control due to the near microscopic wasp that attack them we now have some meadow larks, big red ants and little piss ants but no quail as yet or ticks.

Ive killed a number of Nilgai on the La Norias part of the King ranch, and they also had some Eland on that part of the ranch at one time, don't know how that worked out..NOne of the Nilgai I shot had ticks, but I hunted them in Jan. as I recall..A cow and a bull went for $600 and that included the lodge, feed, and rooms with a guide...great hunt IMO..the can be wild and tough to kill..I had a guy on AR told me he killed Nilgai with a 243, and ranted about proper bullet placement, turned out he had shot one Nilgai in his life...I recommend all the gun you can stand.

Lots of wild birds in Texas, the Texas panhandle is full of wild Bob white and the Texas Big Bend is crawling with the various Blue quail that are wild and always have been...