27 September 2010, 17:37
GDOGLuke Samaras, Masailand 2010
Outfitter: Luke Samaras SafarisCountry: Tanzania
Location: Masailand
PH's: Francois “Franco” Loubser and Norbert "Cheetah" Reiner
Dates Hunted: September 2-12, 2010
Broker: Wendell Reich
Rifles: Studdog-- Rifles Inc. Custom .375 H&H
Gdog—Ruger-based Custom .416 Taylor & Ruger .375 African
My dad(Studdog) and I were together on this trip and had a fantastic time. After hunting several years ago in the interior of Tanzania we found the heat & humidity was too much for our liking. Masailand was wonderful on this count, providing cool mornings for stalking and even cold evenings for sleeping-just great for us being from Michigan.
Our main hunting objective was buffalo. We were out for a good experience, not necessarily huge trophies. Dad and I both reinforced with our PH's that what we were looking for was in this order:
1. a great experience
2. good, hard bossed, old buffalo
3. close shooting( meaning well under 100yds.)
We had heard from others about Luke’s operation and reputation, and that this area was known as the "Formula 1"(meaning ultimate) place for buffalo hunting. We were not disappointed.
Dad was paired with Francois (Franco) Loubser, and I with Norbert (Cheetah) Reiner. It was a classic battle of knowledge and wisdom(OLD) vs. energy and exuberance(YOUNG). This matchup provided great smack-talk throughout the week.
The day we arrived, we met the Nosler crew led by Bob Nosler. I think there were eight in the group, board members and friends. They seemed to have had a great time. We shared lunch with them which was very enjoyable. If like me, you ever purchase products wondering who is behind them it was great to meet the actual manufacturers. After meeting the crew I will use more Nosler products-just because of the team we met--fun, nice guys.
The first couple days, we each stalked many buffalo in herds, and in smaller groups and individuals ("Dagga Boys") which Franco and Norbert refer to as "Ninjas"- because they are dangerous and can strike quickly from out of nowhere. We each turned down shots for various reasons these days-- funky horns aka. “unique trophy”, and shots obstructed by brush. We were also stymied by buffalo bolting just as we got on the sticks ( maybe just bad timing or inexperienced hunters). We also passed on several plains game opportunities on these days as it was definitely buffalo first. Through all this we were definitely having a ball.
As the third day rolled around my dads luck turned and he got a great super thick bossed old buffalo. The buffalo was very old, and Franco determined that he would not have lived much longer, and that it was a good thing they took him. For my part, Norbert(Cheetah) set me up on a wonderful and huge Impala at 80 yds., … and I missed. Actually worse, because we found some blood drops, but he was long gone. I felt like shit. I have missed game before and felt this feeling, but it was worse this time as the setup was perfect, lots of time, and broadside. Our top tracker Paulo, said the shot was high so I took a shot off the sticks to check the zero on my .375 Ruger and it was dead center, but 5” high. The next day we went out to confirm this from a better rest, and sure enough the same thing. Probably a bad combination of me shooting high, and the rifle shooting high. I adjusted the scope, shot one shot dead-on perfect and we back in business. Around the fire that night I remarked that while dad should be very pleased with his old buffalo, that Norbert and I had slightly higher standards.
On the fourth day, we saw buffalo at 6:30am from the truck and were off. We were on the buffalo by 6:35. We evaluated one and determined he was too young and also dismissed a cow. Just then one of the trackers said “down in the Karunga”(ditch/dried out riverbed). He was a good one, and just before I got on the sticks Cheetah said” no, there is a bigger one on the right”. I couldn’t see him down in the dark ditch to our right. Paulo came up to me and moved my position around a small tree and I saw him looking up at about a 45 degree angle at maybe 40yds. I fired my .416T at his right chest/shoulder for a quartering shot down through the vitals. The buff leaped out of the Karunga and up the considerable slope in front of us. Cheetah(this is where Norbert got his new nickname) leapt up the hill after him with me following. As soon as we reached the top, he was looking right at us, standing broadside at 30-40 yds, NOT looking happy. Norbert and I fired in rapid succession, bang, bang and he was down. The 400gr. TSX really did the job as we recovered the perfectly mushroomed bullets. He was giant. Not only his 44” spread, but his body as well. He is a phenomenal trophy-more than I wished for.
In the afternoon of day four, we went out later than normal more or less to scout for an hour or two for Day 5. The trackers seemed to think we were just out for a short joyride and I assumed the same. I only brought my .375 Ruger just in case we found the right Zebra or Grants Gazelle even though we were scouting buffalo country. Well you know what they say-never assume. We were driving only 30 minutes when one of the guys in the back of the truck banged, and said “Ninja”. He was only 40 yds. off the road laying in a thicket. We dismounted immediately and made our way only a few yards back to where he was seen to take a look. I fumbled to load rounds, and hand extra bullets to the trackers and get to Paulo and the sticks while Norbert evaluated him. After just a few seconds, Norbert says “he is old and big, take him.” Easier said than done. While I am trying to find him in the scope at only 30 yds., Norbert says “shoot him!” and as soon as I see him he stands up, and I fire at his shoulder. THIS IS the type of miss I have experienced before-a rushed shot I wanted to get off before he was gone. He ran off. I was thinking, “Oh shit, I hope I got him good.” We proceeded cautiously in the direction we saw him running and in maybe 2 minutes one of the trackers says “there”, pointing right over my shoulder pointing to our buffalo broadside at 40yds. I fired quickly, and off he went through some heavy brush. We found good, bright blood where he was standing, but now we had to find and finish him. We were in a large area, maybe the size of a few football fields of knee-high white grass. Unfortunately within this, there were several dark, thick brush and tree areas-just like the one he was laying in when he was first spotted. We proceeded to track the buffalo and methodically clear one brush patch at a time. Norbert was earning his money now—BIG TIME. He had his hands full, trying to control the trackers and game scout while keeping me engaged, and of course keeping us all safe. We were now also losing light at an alarming rate. We stopped to listen for him and threw rocks and dirt chunks, hoping to see him move or charge the things we were throwing. I will be perfectly honest. At this point, I am scared to death and on super-high alert. I noticed my mouth was dry. I am worried about the shots I took, worried that I am the only one other than Norbert with a rifle, worried that if we get charged I need to shoot, and frankly really worried about being safe and not shooting Norbert or Paulo or anyone else. Luckily this only lasted 20-30 min. and we found the buffalo lying dead in the third brush pile we went through. Whew! Another great buffalo at about 40” spread, and really old. Both bullet holes were about an inch apart, behind the shoulder, a little high but through the lungs. At the fire that night, the old guys accused us of being road hunters and that we probably hit the buffalo with the truck.
On day five my dad got into a gunfight with a buffalo, shooting maybe 10-11 times before he went down. He kept running from place to place, and my dad kept throwing lead. (this was VERY funny as dad and I had an ongoing debate throughout the week as to how many bullets one should have on ones’ person while hunting-- and he thought “more was better”). I guess he was right. Now we each had 2 buffalo--WOW!I stalked many Zebra this day and shot a great stallion that afternoon. I got some great pictures with masai children the happened by. One of them had a sticker on his forehead, looking like a dork. I guess kids are kids, wherever you go. Around the fire that evening, Norbert and I made known that that as gentleman hunters, we prefer to kill cleanly.
On day six we were all out of buffalo and were just looking for another Zebra, an Impala and a couple Grants Gazelles, which made for a great competition. This was easily accomplished with us getting the second Zebra and Impala and the first Grants Gazelle. Plains game was plentiful as we turned down dozens of animals looking for “a little bit longer or wider or bigger”. After this, dad and I discussed getting out of camp early. Neither of us really enjoyed the plains game hunting. Although we were happy to get some nice trophies, we didn’t find it particularly interesting. In fact, it was a little anticlimactic after the excitement of buffalo hunting. At the fire this night, Norbert and I joked that the old team had fallen right into our plan--we didn’t want to shoot the first Grants Gazelle, because now we knew what we had to beat! Of course the road hunter jokes came flying back at us then.
Day seven came and we spent the morning searching for the right Grants Gazelle to no avail while dad manned the phone trying to arrange flights home. That afternoon we saw the “right” Grants and took him. We were pretty pleased and Norbert thought it looked pretty similar to my dads- very nice. I was convinced it was waaay bigger. Unfortunately, dads Gazelle was indeed bigger and thicker, but it was all great fun. That night, we had a great goodbye dinner of Grants Gazelle steaks complete with a cake with frosting.
Overall we thought that this experience was wonderful. There is very little we would have changed. We ate very well, every night. We thoroughly enjoyed sundowners each evening. The combination of great weather, great camp staff, great hunting, and great PH's made this experience, well, GREAT!
