I'm sure that there are many on this site that had/have the same feelings I had anticipating this first hunt to the "Dark Continent".

Since my teen years (more years ago than I care to mention), reading Ruark, Selous, Hunter and others and their adventures in Africa, the anticipation of my first (and only-so far) hunt in Africa was an exercise in exquisite patience having started the process 18 months in advance.

After reading about African hunts and taking advice from an aquaintance, I settled on Mafigeni Safaris (now Guwela Hunting Safaris - http://www.guwelahuntingsafaris.com/ ), operated by Claude and Jill Kleinhans in Duifelskloof, Limpopo, RSA. Gracey Travel made all the flight arrangements and finally, the end of April, my wife and I left Melbourne, Florida for Johannesburg, RSA flying Delta to Atlanta and SAA from Atlanta to Johannesburg. It was a grueling trip, not just for the airlines we were flying on but, awake from 4:00 AM Florida time until 2:30 PM African time. After taking two Ambien, I still got only about 45 minutes sleep during the entire time. Just too excited, I guess. The wife slept nearly half the time.

The check-in with SAPS wasn't bad. I had all the paperwork completed prior to departure and when I presented it to the female SAPS officer, she very casually dropped it in the trash can and began filling out another (different) form and then inspected my rifles and ammunition. After about 30 minutes, we were on our way from the International airport over to the domestic side and caught our flight to Phalaborwa, "Gateway to Kruger Park". It was the smallest commercial airport I have ever been too and upon touching down, the pilot jammed on the brakes with the props in full reverse pitch and we still didn't stop until we were about 2-300 ft. from the end of the runway. Exciting, to say the least. No problems with the luggage or firearms, all had arrived with us and quickly retrieved from the baggage counter.

No one there to greet us! Panic time! Here we are in a different continent at a very small airport trying to get in touch with Mafigeni, no local currency to use for pay phones. What to do? Not to worry, about 30 minutes go by and Esther, Jill’s mother is there with a bakkie to take us on to Mafigeni Lodge. We arrive about 2:30 PM, make our greeting to all there and CRASH for the next three hours. Woke up at 5:30 PM, just in time to enjoy dinner of Gemsbok stakes, potatoes, gravy and fresh salad, absolutely delicious meal. I get to meet my PH, Siegfried Osmers and discuss what will happen bright and early tomorrow. Jill Kleinhans has attached herself to my wife and they will be headed out for shopping tomorrow.

Up at 5:30 AM and over to the dining room for a light breakfast of herbal tea, toast and my favorite, bitter orange marmalade. Claude looks at me as if I were a freak and says, “Bill, don’t eat that stuff, it’s poisonâ€! Before I go home, I have eaten all of the marmalade with Claude shaking his head every time he sees me do it.

Siegfried and I get Moses, the tracker and set out for our first hunting area. Yes, it’s all high fenced property but, I never seem to see the same scenery twice or the perimeter fence. It is very extensive and an absolute wonder for me. As soon as we reach the gate, we are “attacked “ by a herd of Cape Buffalo.



This is the only obviously NOT wild thing about the area. This is a herd of pen raised buffalo they are trying to keep Rinderpest free to be released later to form a “native†herd.

I am absolutely enthralled with all the animals I see. First the buffalo, then Impala and Baboons, Tsetsebe, Blue Wildebeest, Eland, Giraffe, White Rhino



on and on. As the day progresses, we have not seen a shootable animal of the species I have opted for (Kudu, Blue Wildebeest, Blesbok and Impala. None of this bothers me because I’m rolling down the dirt trails in back of this pickup with a sappy grin from ear to ear. Late in the afternoon, Siegfried is apologizing profusely because of no opportunity for shots. I think I finally convince him not to worry when I tell him that just being in Africa in a legal hunting area, armed and seeing all these exotic animals is enough to meet my expectations. Shortly after, we spot a shootable Impala in a small herd mixed in with some Giraffes. We drive on and then stop, get out and go back to where we had seen him. He’s still there grazing away and not aware of our presence. At about 60 yards, Siegfried sets up the sticks and says, “Take himâ€. I am as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. This is my first opportunity and I really don’t want to embarrass myself by missing or worse lightly wounding this animal. He is broadside to me and as I’m about to break the shot on my .280 Remington, a ewe walks slowly across in front of him. She grazes on past but know he is facing me, head down. I wait for him to turn but he picks up his head and looks straight at me. I have a great chest shot and fear he will realize what is facing him and run. The crosshairs on the Burris 3 X 9 settle low in the chest and I break the shot. I don’t see him after I recover from the recoil but, Siegfried says it’s a good hit. We give him a couple of minutes and walk to where we think he was when I fired. I don’t see a thing but, Moses is head down and walking off to our right and shortly straightens up and grins. It was a good solid hit and he only ran about 40 yards and piled up. There is little indication where the bullet hit except for a small spot of blood at the entry wound.



This is the 160 gr. Swift A-Frame they dug out of the Impala's paunch. It made it from his brisket to the paunch and still weighed 158 1/2 grs.





After the obligatory posing and picture taking, it is too late to continue for the day. That’s fine with me as I am ready for dinner and a “sundowner†of bitter lemon.


The next morning, after a late breakfast, we decide to head to Dullstroom, Mpumalanga Province about 150 miles away, with Claude, Jill, Siegfried and another couple from Oregon, Randy and Tracy Baughman to hunt for Blesbok, Fallow Deer and Springbuck. I don’t particularly care about this arrangement because after deciding that I would rather have a Kudu than a Blesbok it was taking us away from the forest to the hiveldt and relatively open country. But, because of the opportunity to see new places and new species, I went along with it. We got there about noon, ate lunch in a local restaurant and headed for the hunting concession. Right off the bat, Tracy got a very nice Springbok and Randy got a good Duiker.





I went after a Springbok even though I really didn’t want one. Kind of like, “well, I'm here, I might as wellâ€. It was late in the afternoon and no opportunity for a shot came about even after belly crawling after one for a quarter of a mile. We then went back to Dullstroom and were treated to a magnificent dinner in a Portuguese restaurant and then a good comfortable nights rest in a very nice resort outside of Dullstroom.


The following morning, after breakfast, we headed to the concession for a Springbok for me and a Blesbok and/or Fallow deer for Tracy and Randy. To make a long story short, Tracy got her Blesbok



and I got five shots at various Springbok, all of which should have been at least one dead Springbok but, all were clear misses. I blamed the rifle and scope for being out of wack and Claude took me to the range and had me take three shots from a rest at about 115 yards at a four inch black spot on a dead tree trunk using a solid rest. We trudged up to the tree and there were three shots in about an inch a half group, one inch to the left of center. I looked at Claude and said, “Well, I guess it’s a poor craftsman that blames his tools".

By then it was early afternoon and Jill told Claude she would have to take Tracy and Randy back to meet their flight out the next morning. There was a lot of controversy about what we would do to accomplish that and still leave me and my wife in Dullstroom to continue hunting. I saw my opportunity and, not wanting to further embarrass myself with continued poor marksmanship on the wiley Springbok, said that we could all go back and I would continue my hunt in the lowveldt for Kudu and Wildebeest. They all agreed after asking me if I was sure it was OK. I convinced them that it was and we left for Duifleskloof.


The next morning, bright and early, Siegfried, Moses, Thomas (another tracker) and I head for another concession. Early on we are going through a gate and as the truck pulled through and stopped, I saw the only thing I had dreaded to run upon in Africa. Not five feet from the truck lay a very fat and very alive Puff Adder. Fortunately, I stayed in the truck and nobody else got near it after I brought it to their attention. To regress a little, the night before, my wife was looking at a three carat Tanzanite that Esther was showing all the female clients and I told her that if she wanted it to by it ($750). She immediately turned to me and said, “No, I’d rather have a Zebra ($800) so we can make a rug out of itâ€. Well, that’s a no-brainer, I immediately agreed to that! Later in the morning, we saw a good stallion mixed in with a bunch of Giraffe. After making a short stalk, Siegfried set up the sticks and as soon as he cleared the Giraffe, I fired a 460 gr. Hard cast gas check out of my Marlin 1895 (I just had to take this to Africa) for a high lung shot. It was a strange reaction from the Zebra in that he ran for about 125 yards, in circles of about 40 yards and piled up. I would have thought that bullet in front of 46 grs. of IMR-4320 would go clean through but, it didn’t. It did leave a very clean .45 cal. Hole in him through which poured a thumb size stream of blood when we rolled him over.






After taking the Zebra to the landowners abattoir, we went to lunch at a local resort discussing what we would do that afternoon. The decision was made to return to the same concession and look for Kudu. As we drove through the concession, there were all kinds of game, Eland, Impala, Warthog and birds galore. We spent about an hour driving around and lo and behold, I spot a nice Kudu before anybody else does. We drive on for a few hundred yards and leave the vehicle to stalk back to where we had last seen him. This has got to be the dumbest Kudu in RSA, he is still standing in the same place I last saw him. Siegfried sets up the sticks and he’s till doesn’t move although there isn’t much cover between him and me. The .45-70’s sights settle just behind the shoulder and a third of the way up the body and I break the shot. A six and a half pound .45-70, firing that heavy a bullet, generates a fair amount of recoil. After recovering from the shot, he has disappeared. We go to where we saw him last and begin tracking him. I don’t see any sign at all but that doesn’t surprise me. Both trackers and Siegfried are heads down and casting back and forth as we keep walking forward. I’m starting to sweat bullets thinking I had muffed another easy shot. Thomas is walking off to our right, stops, straightens up and says something in Shoana to Siegfried who looks at me with a wide grin and says, “There’s your Kudu!â€. I’m still looking dumbfounded and he leads me over to where this beautiful animal is lying in the grass. He is beautiful! This is the animal I most wanted on this trip (as if a half a million other American hunters didn’t feel the same). I am very pleased. None of my animals were records but all were good representatives of the species and for that, I am happy.




The real sore point for me was wounding a Wildebeest the following day and tracking all that day and the next resulting in a lost animal. Of course having to pay the trophy fee for an animal I didn’t get was annoying but, the worst was knowing that I had caused it to suffer. The day I left, Claude said, “Don’t worry, we’ll have other hunters in that area all next week and we will get him. In fact they notified me several days after my return to the US that they had and it would be sent along with my other trophies.

Our last day was spent traveling to Nelspruit and White Water, Mpumalanga Province to make my wishes known for the processing and shipping of my trophies from Life Forms Taxidermy, who did a beautiful job, by the way. The next visit was to SABI Rifles to check out their creations. They do a beautiful job on their custom guns and the time spent was well worth it. They have a unique way of converting 98K Mausers to .500 Jeffrey. They cut off the magazine box from the trigger guard assembly and mill the magazine well in the receiver 1 ½ MM forward and 3 ½ MM back then, they make a very heavy stainless steel magazine box especially for the big .500 and attach it to the receiver. The finish work they do is beautiful. You can check it out here;

http://www.sabirifles.co.za/Default.htm

Our trip home was bitter sweet, glad to see familiar surroundings but I have left part of me back in Africa. Those of you who have been there and haven’t had the opportunity to return know the draw this place has on you. Well, I guess I’ll buy more lottery tickets.

Here's a few pictures I took just for the beauty of these fascinating creatures

The biggest millipede I ever saw w/ .45-70 round


17" Nile Crockadile


Mom and Pop, Juniors off the page!


Five foot Water Monitor



I hope this has been a good read for you. Africa does get into your blood.

Sounds like a wonderful trip! It is strange to see the pine trees in the background of the Duiker picture . Also.......the background scenery in the pic of the Giraffes is amazing!!

Great report. That's a tremendous picture of the giraffees. I have always thought about taking my 45-70 to Africa, but have never been able to. It sounds like it did well.

Congrats ,on a fine trip. Your kudu looks great. The larger plains game can be tough to kill. Are you planning your next hunt yet?

Stunningly good photos! Thanks. Great trophies, too. Though that croc looks a bit short of 17 feet, IMO, its still a man-eater size beastie. That zebra looks like his "paint ran before it was dry", very unusual. Congratulations.

Rug - I haven't planned for another trip yet. I'm a "blue collar" type and that kind of money requires a lot of planning plus, I'm retiring as soon as I sell my house here in Florida. Thinking of taking a job in the local Sportsman's Warehouse behind the gun counter to finance a possible return.

SGraves155 - The length of that croc was an estimate on the part of my PH, definately did not go up and put a tape on him.

That zebra was mighty colorful, quite a bit more brown than the average Burchell's. He sure did make a beautiful rug.

Congratulations on a great trip. Nice trophies.

TerryR