Back in '89 my lady and I were on a safari in the Chete concession of Northern Zimbabwe. The outfitter Dave Masson ran Kaviji safaris and had offered us a tuskless hunt as the buffalo quota was all spoken for. $1,050 for the first ele, half price for the second and the third one was free.

The daily rates were $425 and the observer was no charge.

Hell of a deal and we really liked the colorful Dave Masson. Sadly, within a year or two he had passed away as had his camp manager Neils Campbell and Dave's 39 year old brother in law who had guided Margaret to her first impala and warthog on Kaviji.

I was to hunt the jumbo and Margaret had the Yashisca (sp?) 35 mm camera.

One hot afternoon we were standing in the middle of the bush looking at a great many elephant tracks when suddenly an elephant 'screamed' or whatever the hell you call that sound?

It came from behind me and I had no doubt that the beast was within seconds of crushing this ol' Alberta boy!

I was already in the air so I spun around with my 375 Sako. I had every intention on killing the ele as it took me out!

I have always been a poor sport.

Nothing. Not a damn thing in sight except for my PH Mike Bunce, my Lady Margaret and assorted trackers and the water boy staring at me.

Always quick to defend myself against slights and assorted real and imagined slurs .. I blurted out, ' I think that was a kudu.'

Hopefully everyone was satisfied with my explanation. In single file we walked towards where the sound had come from.

About a quarter of a mile later we came on the herd of around 40 elephants strung out in the shade of a bunch of trees.

They were just passing away the heat of the day I reckon.

After looking for a while we found a single tuskless right in the middle of the bunch. Unfortunately the wind was bad so we had to make a giant semi circle to come up to them.

Eventually we found ourselves at the base of a huge hill and we could barely make out the outline of the backs of several elephants.

Mike turned to the young man carrying the water bottle and he told the chap that if anything went wrong he was to take the Madam to the giant boulders at the base for some kind of protection. I could tell that the guy was not too happy with his job description.

We slowly started up the big hill. The third tuskless was free and Mike said that we should shoot the third one first.

We were maybe half way up the hill when the wind must have shifted. And the jumbos got it wrong.

Fleeing for their lives, they came rushing over and down the hill - right at us!

Mike grabbed Margaret's arm and yanked her up on the boulder where he had instantly jumped on. I ran beside him and made some quick arithmetic in my head.

I kill one and Mike kills one and I kill another as does Mike and then that leaves 36 left!

I am an outstanding rifle shot in my day dreams and musings.

Meanwhile Mike was waving his rifle and shouting what sounded like, ' Ongawa Ongawa!' at the herd.

Later he said that he wanted the lead elephant to get us visual.

And so she did and at the last second she (and the rest) swerved and ran by us at maybe twenty or so yards. The last elephant slowed for a second, told us off, and I am sure if it did not already have a prior do somewhere else - she might have tried to sort us out for good.

And then they were gone - dust flying everywhere.

I said to my long suffering wife, 'Did you get some good photos?'

I have never forgotten her withering look or reply.

And your clever immediate response was,

I'm kidding, I'm KIDDING'...

Funny story. Thanks for sharing!

Classic.

I remember sitting in my first Lion blind and not that my client knew this. The Lion roared behind the blind and I must have jumped a couple of feet out my chair knocking my rifle down that fell on the water bottles that tumbled the cameras. I had the audacity to tell my client to be quiet and inform him that the Lion was here!

quote:

Originally posted by fairgame:
Classic.

I remember sitting in my first Lion blind and not that my client knew this. The Lion roared behind the blind and I must have jumped a couple of feet out my chair knocking my rifle down that fell on the water bottles that tumbled the cameras. I had the audacity to tell my client to be quiet and inform him that the Lion was here!

We didn't hold it against you.

Women and cameras don’t mix.

Mine kept borrowing my camera.

So I bought her one of her own.

She either does know where it is, it is not charged, or has no memory card.

She is back to borrowing mine!

At my daughters school, it star6ed that every mom came with a camera at the sports days.

A couple of weeks later, no one brought a camera.

When asked why, the answer was “Saeed is taking pictures. We will ask him for copies!”

Excellent read, sounds like quite the adventure

My wife would have thrown the camera at the Elephants.

That was an enjoyable.

Thank you kindly for sharing. It was enjoyable to read.

We need a "Like" button.

I have always hated it when Canadians are in camp. They are bad luck, as your story fully proves!

Good story, Thanks.

Great story.

I wanted to fire my videographer from my Cape Buffalo hunt, but unfortunately it was me. I was concerned that my battery would go dead so on stalks I would only turn it on when I thought it could be interesting. On my final stalk I thought I turned it on but instead I turned it off. So I ended up with unwanted shots and none of the final stalk.

Great story. Thanks for sharing

it looks like there is only one way to pay for photo teach lessons

in this case I would only buy her 100 usd camera from IC sale https://www.rabato.com/za/incredible-connection

quote:

Originally posted by fairgame:
Classic.

I remember sitting in my first Lion blind and not that my client knew this. The Lion roared behind the blind and I must have jumped a couple of feet out my chair knocking my rifle down that fell on the water bottles that tumbled the cameras. I had the audacity to tell my client to be quiet and inform him that the Lion was here!

Last year, we had two large lions feeding on one of our baits.

Plans were made to put a blind.

One of those pop up things made with very thin cloth.

We put some branches around it.

Very early in the morning, still dark, Alan myself and Roy got into the blind, and were hoping to find the lions feeding as light broke.

Five minutes after the truck left, we heard him growling behind the blind, which made us happy that he is there.

A few minutes later, he growled right behind us, where the zipper of the blind is.

We kept quiet.

Suddenly, he started growling, and whacking the blind, shaking it.

His claws missed Roy by inches as he tore holes in the blind.

Alan started screaming at him.

He screamed back with more hits on the blind!

Total darkness, and we did not want to shoot him, in case we create a worse situation by having a wounded lion in that area by the river thickets.

Alan fired a shot through the roof of the blind.

The lion remained there growling.

A few minutes later our truck arrived - hearing the shot is a signal to come.

They found the lion a few feet from our blind.

He went into the forest, we got into the truck, and headed to camp.

Came back in the afternoon and sat in the blind.

He came from the river side, stood unto the bait looking straight at us in the blind.

I shot him, he ran a few yards and dropped, we ran up to him and put another shot in.

I suppose that is the closest one can get to a wild angry lion without getting hurt!

Saeed, that is wild.

One does not expect a lion ever to behave like a crazy chipmunk.

But they may, at times, do just that. And I, too, have seen it happen.

Yet lions have far bigger teeth and sharper claws than chipmunks, which manages to keeps things far more interesting.

We wanted to shoot a croc.

Trouble was he was in a bit of running water at one end of a wide river.

The rest of the five bed was just dry sand.

The same water he was in was full of hippos.

We thought we would put a blind and sit in it.

The water part was about 30 meters wide, and only deep by the bank.

We were in the blind, and some hippos kept coming to investigate us.

A particular one kept coming closer and closer.

We gave him a name, Fred.

It was quite funny actually.

Roy was swearing at him in low voice, Alan was trying to communicate with him telepathically!

And I was taking pictures and laughing.

Eventually he left, and we left.

Next day our blind was turn to pieces!

A few days later we saw the croc sunning himself from quite far away from the top of a hill.

We went and had to crawl on our stomachs for quite a distance.

Alan was in front, me behind him and Roy behind me.

Each time Alan stopped, I rain into him.

Eventually we got to less than 200 yards, and I shot it.

Roy said “you two were goi g like bloody hell on your crawl!”

Alan said “Each time I stopped Saeed pushed me on!”

I said “I wanted to get close and then rest for a bit! No chance of that now!”

Whatever we hunt, it almost always turns into an adventure!

And everyone blames everyone else!

That reminds me of a time when I was in a similar situation, except the pushing was the other way around.

We saw a good bull elephant in the southern Selous one year. And that year I badly wanted one.

As soon as we saw this bull, he somehow sensed we were near. Don’t ask me how. We were downwind and silent, and he was facing away from us. I think they have a few extra senses.

He froze for a second, then took off to our left at a right angle away from us. So, of course, we chased him. At a run.

And I mean at a run. We were sprinting across black cotton soil riven by ditches. One of our trackers, a spry young man of less than half my age, was behind me.

I was doing my best to cut off the elephant. But I was apparently not running fast enough. So my young friend would occasionally push me - hard.

All while hoarsely whispering “Bwana, faster!” As though the elephant might hear him talking and do what? Run?

Anyway, I don’t know how I managed to stay on my feet, much less keep on running, but somehow I did.

We succeeded in cutting off the elephant, and I killed him with a running shot to the spine. I was aiming for his brain, but I did not lead him far enough. He was running full out.

I thought it was a damned good shot. The elephant had dropped like a stone, and was quite dead.

But all my young friend said was, “Fast running, Bwana! Very fast!”

quote:

Originally posted by Michael Robinson:
That reminds me of a time when I was in a similar situation, except the pushing was the other way around.

We saw a good bull elephant in the southern Selous one year. And that year I badly wanted one.

As soon as we saw this bull, he somehow sensed we were near. Don’t ask me how. We were downwind and silent, and he was facing away from us. I think they have a few extra senses.

He froze for a second, then took off to our left at a right angle away from us. So, of course, we chased him. At a run.

And I mean at a run. We were sprinting across black cotton soil riven by ditches. One of our trackers, a spry young man of less than half my age, was behind me.

I was doing my best to cut off the elephant. But I was apparently not running fast enough. So my young friend would occasionally push me - hard.

All while hoarsely whispering “Bwana, faster!” As though the elephant might hear him talking and do what? Run?

Anyway, I don’t know how I managed to stay on my feet, much less keep on running, but somehow I did.

We succeeded in cutting off the elephant, and I killed him with a running shot to the spine. I was aiming for his brain, but I did not lead him far enough. He was running full out.

I thought it was a damned good shot. The elephant had dropped like a stone, and was quite dead.

But all my young friend said was, “Fast running, Bwana! Very fast!”

Good story Mike and it has been many years since I could run like that. I remember reading that Selous in his youth used to run alongside the elephant for some miles.

Many years for me, too, Andrew.

If that footrace happened today, and I were running along the hypotenuse of a right triangle, trying to head off a fleeing elephant, I have no doubt that the tables would be turned.

And with a Maasai youth pushing me hard in the back at every odd interval, I might also get a broken leg out of the bargain!

Talking of photographers, on my first safari with Walter, he was the video camera man.

We had a large VHS camera with all the bells and whistles!

And Walter made full use of them, basically producing the most awful safari video ever.

He had it on slow motion, changing colors, changing from color to black and white.

He made sure he pushed every switch on the camera, what the result was, it was immaterial to him.

From a 21 day hunt, we got roughly 15 minutes of useful footage!

And that was from the shooting range.

I had a girl friend with me, and one of my brothers had given her a camouflage pair of trousers.

We nick named her General Schwarzkopf.

Walter used to walk behind her, and he made sure he had his camera running, pointing at her rear end.

He had several hours of it!

I have never had a video made of any of my safaris.

I am not Brad Pitt, nor has Martin Scorsese ever agreed to come along for the ride.

One time, we had the latest Sony minicam along. Despite my better judgment.

I had just put my rifle on the sticks. The buffalo was facing me at 30 yards. My wife, who is an excellent photographer - I mean brilliant - was on the minicam.

I whispered, "I am going to shoot this buffalo. See if you can film it."

I shot.

When we reviewed the film, everything was there. Except that, when I shot my Lott, the shot from the Sony shot towards the sky.

Nothing of my shot was in the shot, except the clouds as they floated by in the Tanzanian heavens at the precise moment of ignition.

Lindy had flinched with the minicam!

A good photographer is not necessarily a good cinematographer, as we all learned that day.

The buff died in short order, as I, unlike my wife, had not flinched.

But we still laugh about it to this very day.

Had an Austrian friend film his hunt.

He gave the tape to a professional shop.

They chopped all the hunting parts off, and left only the scenery!

quote:

When we reviewed the film, everything was there. Except that, when I shot my Lott, the shot from the Sony shot towards the sky.

I had that happen on a bison hunt years ago. I was shooting bison on the Deseret Land and Livestock Company's huge ranch in northwestern Utah with my 54 caliber black powder rifle. At the shot, the friend that had accompanied me dropped the camcorder and got nothing but the ground. Dumbass!

I love the adverts of camera mounts one can fit on his rifle!

Even worse is people asking on how to mount a GoPro on a hunting rifle so they can see their kills!

I could be mistaken, but I believe that there are rifle scopes out there with cameras, and even videocameras, built into them!

quote:

Originally posted by Michael Robinson:
I could be mistaken, but I believe that there are rifle scopes out there with cameras, and even videocameras, built into them!

Yes, there are plenty of stupid things out there.

People sometimes bring them in here.

quote:

Originally posted by Michael Robinson:
I have never had a video made of any of my safaris.

I am not Brad Pitt, nor has Martin Scorsese ever agreed to come along for the ride.

One time, we had the latest Sony minicam along. Despite my better judgment.

I had just put my rifle on the sticks. The buffalo was facing me at 30 yards. My wife, who is an excellent photographer - I mean brilliant - was on the minicam.

I whispered, "I am going to shoot this buffalo. See if you can film it."

I shot.

When we reviewed the film, everything was there. Except that, when I shot my Lott, the shot from the Sony shot towards the sky.

Nothing of my shot was in the shot, except the clouds as they floated by in the Tanzanian heavens at the precise moment of ignition.

Lindy had flinched with the minicam!

A good photographer is not necessarily a good cinematographer, as we all learned that day.

The buff died in short order, as I, unlike my wife, had not flinched.

But we still laugh about it to this very day.

Had the same issue when a lion got close. The videographer was very afraid of lions and shook so bad, nothing was usable....

I was sitting in a high tower with my long time buddy in Namibia one time. A juicy warthog came trotting towards us and I told my amigo to video the pig as I was going to shoot it.

I handed the camera to my friend and when the swine stopped, I slowly squeezed the trigger at the thirty yard or so target.

Incredibly easy shot with a solid rest. As the rifle crashed my buddy let out a screech, dropped my video camera on the wooden floor and grabbed his rifle!

What the hell?