As promised, here's the trip report from my late-season hunt with Brookland's Hunting Safaris in the Save Conversancy in Zimbabwe.

I'm simply going to post excerpts from my journal, so hopefully this won't be so long that you'll lose interest .

I found this hunt from a post Ganyana made in late October regarding some late-season hunts available with Shangaan Hunters in the Save. Unfortunately, Shangaan withdrew their offer just as I was about to book the hunt. I was over at Jerry Huffaker's taxidermy studio taking my Alaskan caribou (reported under the ...Rest of the World section) for a mount. I explained my situation to Jerry and he simply picked up the phone and called Ron Oliver, who books for Shangaan. Ron got back with me the next day, saying he had found the same offer at a couple of other outfitters. I ended up picking Brooklands since they would let me hunt buffalo (my primary species), leopard, and sable at another ranch next door. Sounded great! Ron did a great job for me, going above and beyond the call ... oh, and he's almost a Texan now!

I left Dallas the day after Thanksgiving and flew through Amsterdam, spent an extra day there, and on through Jo'burg to Harare where I met my PH, Paul Wellock. I posted a lot about the trip itself in the ...African Travel section.

I'll pick up the narrative from my journal. Please excuse some rather personal notes :


November 27, 2005, Sunday

Itin: Amsterdam to Jo’burg

Got up about 7:45 for the 10:00 flight. Got ready, checked out, checked in at the airport and discovered the flight was already an hour late; not slated to take off til 11:00. Waited around til it finally left at 12:00. I checked with the gate agent about the bags; he said both the duffle and Tuffpak were on the tarmac and ready to be loaded into the plane. Looooonnnnnnggggg flight to Jo’burg. Crowded, almost full. Some interested people on the plane. Americans, looked and sounded like professional wrestlers !

Finally arrived in Jo’burg. I half expected not to be met by Optima, but as soon as I walked up the jetway and entered the terminal, there was a smiling young lady with my name on a sign … very first-class. Her name’s Antoinette and was very efficient. I apologized for being late but she said she’s used to it; she had been at the airport since 8:30 that morning and it was now right at midnight! OK, we went to passport control first, the lines were very long, but Antoinette took me through the diplomatic line and we went right through. As tired as I was, that one thing was worth the $60 fee! Then we went to baggage claim; my duffel came out on the regular place; Antoinette picked up the tuffpack from the oversize area. From there we went to the police station.


Note: Optima is definitely the thing to do. As tired as I was, and with the different location of the police office, I never would have found it.

Note: If you fly KLM, the police station is in a different place from where their baggage claim is. On SAA, it’s in the same place.

Antoinette took me around some back hallways, up and down some stairs and got to the police station. She looked over my paperwork and said it all looked good. We were the only ones in that part of the terminal. We roused a policeman and got the permit. Having her along certainly greased the operation!

Went outside (bypassed customs … they were closed on that side of the airport) and went back to the regular arrivals place. By then it was about 1am. Iri, Louis’ son-in-law, met us there. I went on the Afton Guest House with him in the van; Antoinette went home, promising to meet me again in the morning (or later that same morning, as the case was).

Afton Guest House is super nice! Not too far from the airport but in a quiet residential area. Very nice place; good accommodations. Shared bathrooms but I had one to myself. Iri got me a Coke and stayed up with me while I smoked a Party Short. As it turns out, strictly speaking, since this was about 2am, I had gone the entire day of Sunday without a cigar ! He’s in the Air Force but can arrange his schedule so that he works at the guest house a lot. Nice looking, and very nice personality. Finally got to bed about 3am.

Summary: Trip to Jo’burg was long and tough. Optima is a must-do. Afton is great.

Afton Guest House:



November 28, 2005, Monday

Itin:
Jo’berg to Harare.

Woke up/got up at 6:45am after only about 4 hrs sleep at Afton Guest House. Got in about 2am after the delayed flight from Amsterdam.

Iri was already up and moving. Had coffee, then douched, then had bfast. Very good: scrambled eggs, bacon, homemade bread toasted, polenta, etc. Repacked bags then went outside for a look around in the daylight and to smoke one of those Dutch cigars I bought in Amsterdam. Nice this morning; partly/mostly cloudy, comfortable temp. Had the rest of the coffee and cigar, took some pics of the guest house. Very nice accommodations, definitely stay there again.

Iri delivered me to the airport; Antoinette met us at curbside. With her was Alpheus, a trainee. If she leaves the company before my return flight, he might be my contact at Jo’berg when I return. Had to go through the regular check-in line (bummer), checked my one bag (got claim checks for both the duffel and gun case) then had to go behind the check-in counter, down the hall to the police station. They checked the serial numbers again, filled out some more paperwork, and made me take the ammo out of the case! They put it in a plastic bag, of all things and at my and Antionette’s insistence, they taped that plastic sack to my Tuffpak. I’m absolutely certain the ammo boxes will rip the plastic bag, and my shells will go no telling where. I impressed upon both Antionette and the guy at the police station that it was absolutely imperative that the ammo make it safely; they both assured me it was fine and that he (the SAPS guy) would take the case directly to SAA for loading. Well, that may be fine but what happens in Harare??? I’m dreading going to pick up the case and finding just an empty bag where my ammo should be.

Note: When having to check in through SAPS, they require that ammo NOT be in the gun case. Directly opposite KLM who requires that it be in the same case if you’re leaving it in Amsterdam in transit. Checking through, but not claiming the case, shouldn’t be a problem in any event…but it’s a good idea to put the ammo in a different case UNLESS you’re overnighting in Amsterdam.

Antoinette left me after getting inside and through customs. I had a cup of coffee in a restaurant ($3US) then checked out a couple of duty free shops. One of them had cigars in a nice walk-in; the lady was knowledgeable and the humi was in good shape. They had several nice boxes, some Punch Petit Punch 25’s from 01, some SS2’s from RSE 01, and several other things. I’m pretty well overloaded right now but might stop in again on the way back. They had Trini’s for $333/24; the Punch PP were ~125/box, about the same as pc’s of various brands. The nicest shop I have visited on this trip. Not as fancy as Hajenius, but better stock.

Loaded up on SAA and flew to Harare. Harare airport is kind of a dump. I passed thru immigration, long line and found out when there was only one other person ahead of me that I had to go through a different line first to buy a visa. By the time all the was sorted out and I got through, my duffel bag was the only bag on the carousel…glad it was there, tho. BUT … no gun case ! I checked all over, asked some people (who apparently didn’t understand English) where the big bags came out, and then here comes a porter with the case ! He might have had it all the time, but I was so glad to see it I didn’t raise a stink and let him have my other bags as well. Went through customs, another long line, and got my gun permit. Sure am glad I brought four copies of the gun permit form…needed all four of them.

Finally out the door of the restricted area and started looking for Paul. Found him quickly and loaded up his van for the trip to camp. Nice guy. Long drive to camp. Stopped once for leg stretch and drinks and chips (“crispsâ€). Got to camp just before dark and didn’t have time to check the rifles; will do that in the morning. Met Paul’s wife, Linda, and the camp staff, including Neverson, a young black PH in camp. Neverson is very personable and capable, and spent most of the week checking my leopard baits and culling zebra. I christened him 'Dr. Donkey' since every time we saw him he had one or two zebra in the back of his Cruiser .

Camp is nice. My accommodation is a tent under thatch with an attached permanent bathroom. I have a fan (!!) in my tent and they have power 24hrs a day. Got situated and had a run, and a cigar at the firepit, then dinner, impala steaks (yummy). Talk centered around hunting, the area and the personnel. Very interesting place. They sell a lot of game meat to people who come miles for it.

Camp:



November 29, 2005, Tuesday, Day One

Got a ‘Good Morning’ from Sunday at 4:30am. Up and around. Clear day. Headed over for bfast about 5 or so. Had juice and fresh muffins, then checked the rifles by shooting a a cardboard box with a circle drawn on it and placed in the middle of the dry river bed in front of my tent. Used the front porch rail as a rest. Both rifles were on; the .375 about and inch to the left (I called it) and the .300 almost touching the other hole. Paul declared ‘Right’ and we hit the road with just Masinyani as tracker (Jethro was on vacation, due back tomorrow). He showed me some leopard baits and we checked them, no activity, but saw all the requisite impala, warthogs, etc. Went back to camp for lunch about noon, then back out for the afternoon hunt about 3pm (that was the standard time to head out for pm hunt). Kind of funny, the weather there on clear days (it was clear all day) gets hot by 8:30 or so, peaks at noon, then starts cooling off. By 3pm, it’s getting cooler. We drove around looking for buff and found where some had crossed the road. Got out and the chase was on! We tracked them a ways then caught up with them! It was a big herd. Paul said there were two mature bulls he could see and several large, but young bulls as well. We couldn’t get around to the front of the herd and it was getting dark by then so we pulled out and would start there tomorrow morning.

Quite a first day hunting buffalo in Zimbabwe!

Our transportation (and co-pilot...two of a kind):



November 30, 2005, Wednesday, My Birthday !

At bfast Paul wish me ‘Happy Birthday’. We headed out as usual. We found that big herd about 8am and started stalking. Jethro had joined us today and would be with us the remainder of my trip. We found them from the road! So we backed up quickly and hit the ground. Got up to them and watched them milling around and feeding. We got up to within about 50 yards of them by crawling and butt-dragging. Paul whispered there was one of the old bulls he saw yesterday toward the front of the herd. He had a huge solid boss but only about 37-38†wide. They started moving toward the road we had come in on (at that point we were about 150 yds inside the bush), so we moved with them. When Paul decided they wanted to cross the road we moved quickly and quietly to the edge of the road, then up closer to where they were. He set up the shooting sticks and it was Nerve City! They started coming out across the road, an old cow first who stared us down (we were just in the road, no cover, but standing still) then carried on across the road. As if that were the signal, the rest came across in ones and twos. The old bull was about the fifth one to come across. Paul said, “There’s your shot if you want himâ€, broadside at about 75 yds, but I passed him up. I sure hoped I hadn’t made a mistake. Later, a large but young bull came out but didn’t offer a shot as he was on the other side of some cows. Finally, it was over. Masinyani counted 69, Jethro counted 71 buffalo. Quite a treat ! All this was over about 11:30. Back to camp for lunch!

That afternoon, shot an impala to replenish the bait on the north side where a zebra leg had been totally eaten.



We found a herd of impala on the side of the road ahead so Paul and I got out and stalked up to them. He asked if I was comfy at 250 yd and I said yes, but didn’t like the particular shot I had. We got closer and most of the ran. Finally saw the body on one through the brush and had a clear shot, so took it with the .300. Went up and the impala was dead about 20 yds from where he had stood. Young male.

We took him over to the leopard site and strung him up. The trackers split him open and hung him next to the zebra leg. We’ll check him tomorrow to see if anything has hit him. Clear and hot all day.

Dinner was wildebeest (not my fav) but after dinner, the lights went out and this low sound started coming from behind me. The waiters and all the kitchen staff started coming out with a birthday cake all decorated up, and they were singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. I was amazing, they got all the words right and they were even harmonizing. Very impressive. Linda had made me a card and gave me some hand cleaner (mine had all emptied out in my duffel bag on the way over) and a couple of carved hippos. Very nice gesture.


Thursday

Out all day. We started driving for buffalo. We found another herd and started stalking it. We finally got up on them and found it to be a good-sized herd. He got buffs as close as 25yds to us as they fed. Problem was, there weren’t any mature bulls in it at all. The best bull in the bunch was a 40-41†young bull that I was tempted to shoot, but finally held off.
After lunch, we saw two very nice eland bulls cross the road (we had been seeing quite a few eland bulls) and decided to try for them. Man, can those things walk. We stalked them for the rest of the morning into the early afternoon (several miles). We busted them twice but couldn’t get a good shot. One of them was big, the other smaller. At one point they joined up with a cow. Since we were stalking inside a 2.5 mile square block all they had to do was stay in the same block and go round and round. There sure were a lot of eland tracks inside that area.

Had rained quite a bit overnight. The river should start having water in it soon.


Friday

Checked the leopard bait early. No hit, but we decided to build a blind there anyway that afternoon. We’d get the blind materials at lunchtime and build it in the afternoon. We started driving for buffalo, but didn’t see anything. Finally went back to camp for a late lunch and to pick up leopard blind materials. Back out to the bait about 2pm. Worked on the blind the rest of the afternoon and got it pretty well finished. Had a great time playing mud pies and splashing it all over the blind. We won’t hunt it tonight, but probably will tomorrow.



Started raining this afternoon off and on. Looks like the rains are here to stay.

Rum and cigar time!


Saturday

Hunted buffs again all morning; no luck. Just kinda getting ready to spend the night in the leopard blind. Neverson checked bait this morning; no feeding but we’re going to sit it anyway.

About 2pm we headed out. Finished up brushing the blind up and crawled in to get set about 4:30. We had camp chairs inside the blind, a nice top on it for the rain (didn’t rain too much, thank God) and a nice set of forked sticks for my rifle. Pretty comfortable setup. We sat until 9pm, but no activity whatever. Paul sure can sleep quietly, though ïŠ. Before we left Paul turned on his big flashlight on the bait so I could check theview through my scope; the bait was perfectly easy to see and the rest was right on.

Back to camp very late. Also very tired.

Sunday

Out for buffalo in the morning. All we saw the entire day was one herd that we got into but it contained only cows and calves. Man, am I starting to have second (and third) thoughts about passing up that bull the first day!

When we got back to camp that evening for dinner, Linda told us Leon has ok’d us hunting Sable on his place that same afternoon and the following morning. He had called the day before, but since we had sat in the blind that night, we didn’t get the word until the next day. We talked it over and decided to try it even though we’d only have that morning until 12 noon to hunt. We’d take Masinyani and Jethro and pick up a tracker at Leon’s place.

Monday

3:30 pm .. sitting on the porch of my tent watching a warthog in the middle of the dry riverbed.

Today is painful to remember. We had hooked up to hunt Leon DePluessis’ place, Matandare, next door to Msaise, for sable. As it turned out we could only hunt this one morning until noon. He had said we could hunt yesterday afternoon and this morning, but we didn’t get the message until last night.

Got there about 5:45, picked up Kitari, their tracker, and headed out. Drove over to the sable area, then drove around til about 7:30 when we drove right past a nice bull standing looking at us from the side of the road. Completely black, with backswept horns … classis sable bull. Paul said ‘Sable; excitedly, rousing me from a driving-induced stupor. The three trackers (we had Jethro and Masinyani with us) also started beating on the top of the cab. We drove another hundred yards then parked and got out. Paul and I (alone) went back up the road. He spotted the sable but I couldn’t see it. It was behind some of the very thick bushes that characterized that area. Later he told me there wasn’t a shot anyway. We eased around a huge anthill and looked from the other side … still no shot. We climbed the anthill … still no shot. We went back down and started around the anthill…no sable. We called the trackers and started off after him.

While we were stalking, Paul said to take whatever shot I had since it was so thick, and let the trackers sort it out. After a few hundred yards, the sable ran from cover. Paul tried to get me to come to the sticks but the bull was behind a few bushes and I decided to take an offhand shot at about 70 yards. I lined up well, the sight picture looked good, the trigger pull was fine, but the shot hit high and back, in the area of his kidneys. I could see the blood spot as he ran off. I still don’t know if I hit some brush in the way or just pulled it off.

He ran off and we went after. Shortly he broke from cover again. I didn’t have a good shot but I ran to where I could see him and took another shot at him through the brush. Again, the sight picture was good. Then we started tracking him. That was the last time I saw the bull.

I shot him originally about 8:00am. We tracked him back and forth for the rest of the morning. Never did jump him again. Finally about 1:00 we went back to camp and told the guy in charge what had happened. The owners of the ranch are coming in this afternoon for a few days of hunting. Paul asked if we could send Neverson and some trackers over tomorrow to look for him, and also that I was offering a ten million Zim dollars reward for the horns (about $120) and fifteen million for him if he was found alive and we could recover the head and hide in good shape. The assistant manager (Leon was gone) said that shouldn’t be a problem but we’ll check with the owners tonight by radio. Came on back to camp. Had a beer and light lunch.

The emotions are devastating. Such a gorgeous animal left to suffer and probably end up as jackel food, not to mention the trophy fee up in smoke. I’ve been kicking myself all day. On the South Africa trip, I promised myself to never, never take another shot at an animal through brush. I should have remembered that promise. I make another one now. It’s much better pass a shot than take a bad one.

We’re going out this afternoon to look at the leopard bait we sat at night before last. Neverson had radioed that the impala had been eaten. We’ll try to take another one over there and hang it, then decide what to do with the rest of the day.

Not much in the afternoon; replaced the impala bait with a zebra leg. Drove around some, didn’t see anything.

Tuesday

Got out a little late today. I’m still in a funk about the sable yesterday. Neverson had taken Masinyani and one other scout over the Matandere to look for it. They left camp the same time we did.

We were on our way down the southern boundary when we saw a couple of eland bulls run out of our side then back in. One of them looked pretty good, so we stopped the truck and started on foot. We got closer, about 100 yds from where they had gone in when some zebras came out, then one of the elands, the smaller one; they headed over the boundary. The larger bull then came out, went across the road, then stopped, turned around and came back onto our property and stood broadside at the inner edge of the road. He hadn’t seen us as we were on the edge of the road about 100 yds away. Definitely a shooter ! Paul put up the sticks, I got the .375 on him and damn! can’t see anything. Oh, the scope cap is on, duh. Flipped it up, looked through it and discovered the objective had a covering of fog on it from the humidity inside the scope cap. Double damn, all I could see was the outline of the bull. I lined up as best I could, squeezed the trigger, and heard the Whop! when the bullet hit. The lifted his front leg and ran off into the mopane. A few seconds later we heard him fall over! Paul was ecstatic (me too). The 300grSwift A-Frame (recovered) had pulverized his heart.





As we were dressing the eland, Paul got a call on his radio. Neverson was on his way back to camp from Matandare. Since this was only about 7:45, it maybe meant that he had found the sable. Paul radioed him again to confirm and, yes, they had found him !!!
When we got back to camp after a long way around due to the rain swollen crossings, Neverson had already arrived and the sable was at the skinning shed! Gorgeous animal! The hide appeared to be in good shape (we won’t find out until he’s tanned). Neverson said he picked up 3 trackers from Matandare and since Masinyani was with them they went to the point at which we lost him yesterday. They found him about 200 meters away. Talk about elation … the great eland (measured 38â€+) and the sable (measured 42â€+).



Went out after buff that afternoon; nothing doing. Hunted in pouring rain all afternoon…miserable. Got close enough to one herd to see their legs running off in the distance.

Neverson, the other PH in camp, was leaving the next day to visit relatives and asked me to collect an impala for him to take home. Found a nice old ram with only one horn ... hope he tastes good, Neverson!

All in all, a great day!

December 7, 2005, Wednesday

Stalked a herd in the morning. It was seven cows and claves only. Gave up and came in for lunch. In the afternoon, stalked a group of four bulls that came in from the southern boundary. They just wandered around and finally busted us with the wind and left back over the southern boundary. I was pissed, next to the last day and no buff.



December 8, 2005, Thursday, The Fat Lady Sings

Up at normal hour, quick bfast then on the road at 5:15. The river has gone down some, no problems crossing. Went to the northern boundary first to see if the single bull had come out overnight. He hadn’t, so we headed in after him. He had quite big tracks. The wind for once was good, right in our faces. We had stopped on the way while checking the northern boundary and the trackers saw four bulls watching us drive by from the other property at the side of the road. We backed up, the went on forward and stopped a ways off to see if they’d cross over into Msaise. The never did, so we went on to the single bull.

We got on the track of the bull about 7:15. Tracked it a long ways. About and hour and a half into the stalk it and a kongoni spooked and took off; don’t know if they saw us or what. That damned bullalo never stopped. It ran for two and a half miles, only stopping twice to drink from puddles. We gave out at 11:25; hit a hunting road and sent Masinyani for the truck. We went on up to the northern boundary and waiting for him. Now in camp for lunch and short rest.

The fat lady is warming up.

After lunch, we’re out for the final chorus. We were driving down the southern boundary to check it. If we didn’t find anything there, we’d go chase that bull some more. As we were driving down toward the area where I shot the eland a few days ago, we could see a buffalo cross the road onto the other property. We stopped immediately and watched through binoculars at about 1000 yards as a small herd crossed into the other guy’s property. We decided to check to see if there was a shootable bull in the herd so we drove a little closer then Paul, Jethro, and I went stalking in, leaving Masinyani with a radio in the truck.

We got pretty close and then could see them just across the road feeding along. We got up almost even with them on our side and Paul said there were only two bulls in the herd, both young, but one of them borderline. I was ready to shoot him if he offered a shot. Paul told me to ease up to an old dead tree lying down about 10 yards from the edge of the road. Made it ok, and he came up behind me. The herd was feed along and at one point looked like they were going to cross back into our side. That was a problem, because they would come right in to us. Just as I was trying to ‘will’ the larger of the two young bulls into coming out to the road (the south edge is our boundary), Paul whispered excitedly, “Wait, there’s an old dugga boy coming in from the rightâ€. I couldn’t see him but he crossed behind the herd and then started checking out the cows to see if any were in heat. When I finally saw him, he was on the left side of the herd inside the bush on the other side of the road. One cow he tried to hit on turned around and hooked him ïŠ . Then he apparently lost interest and started feeding toward the road. Time stood still as he came out, step by step. I had my rifle firmly on him all the time and each step he took I changed sight picture. He stopped and looked right at (through) us several times, and also looked up the road to the truck parked a long ways off. Then we started hearing a vehicle! Turns out it was the tractor…man, what else could go wrong. I was squeezing that trigger more and more but Paul kept saying ‘hold off til he crosses’, repeatedly. FINALLY, he stepped into the positively our part of the road and Paul said ‘take him when you’re ready’. Immediately I squeezed with the scope locked on his chest. He was quartering to me at the time.

At the shot the jumped, then came toward the front of us. I quickly cycled the bolt and shot him again. At the shot, he more or less folded up and crashed heavily into a tree. He was still trying to get up and Paul and I approached him from the back. He told me to put one into his spine; I reloaded with solids and shot twice, apparently both not doing the job. Paul then said, ‘We’re going to do something you NEVER do; we’re going around to his front to put another one into his boiler room’. We started to go around but only got to the butt when he said, ‘Ok, put one right here’, pointing to a spot going down into his vitals. I put a soft in there and immediately the hole started pumping blood. In just a few seconds a flood of blood came out of his mouth and nose and he gave the famous ‘death bellow’ – a woeful sound. I had reloaded again and was still pointing at him, not believing he was really dead. Paul and Jethro started jumping up and down and Jethro was keening. Finally, I put the rifle down and shouted for joy!

We counted off the steps: 11 steps to where he fell, 14 steps to where I first shot him. Talk about pulling it out in the last few minutes! I spent a few moments saying a prayer over him. He's a fine old dugga boy, was just wandering around checking on cows. He's very hard and massively bossed, with a 39"+ spread.

Masanyani brought up the truck and we started to take a ton of pictures. The guys on the tractor came down the road and stopped to admire the bull. The guys finally cut a road into the bull and hauled him half way up using the winch, field dressed him, then winched him the rest of the way into the truck … off to camp!



Paul, the PH, with the bull:


During the field dressing I was celebrating with a large beer from the cooler. On the way back, Paul hoisted another one on me. So, feeling no pain, we hit camp. I immediately poured the rest of the bottle of rum I had left and lit up the Davidoff Dom Perignon I had brought specifically for this moment. It tasted good, but as in most famous cigars, it was not spectacular … but the moment sure was!

Dinner was fine, Linda was terribly happy, and all went well. Then to the tent to pack up stuff and hit the sack.


December 9, 2005, Friday

The trip to Harare was fairly uneventful. Left camp about 6am, got into the airport about 11:30, after getting hung up in Harare with traffic. Got the guns checked by Zim customs, got the bags checked (the SAA rep screwed up the baggage claim checks) and started looking for Don Heath. Found him talking to a coule of other 'pro' looking guys near the front door. We introduced ourselves and chatted with them for a while. Barry Deacon, owner of Brooklands, came in, introduced himself to me, chatted a few minutes, then left. Don, Paul and I headed upstairs for a Coke. As we were talking, we looked up and Don yelled a guy coming in. It was Andy Hunter, a famous PH. He sat down with us and we had a great chat.

The flights home were horrible. Two hours to Jo’burg were uneventful, but once in Jo’burg I had a 9-hour layover. The Optima rep, Sabu, met me and all went well. He said he’d come back later to get me on the flight to Amsterdam. I went upstairs and bought my way in to the Premier Club lounge, had dinner and a cigar in their smoking lounge, then used their computers to check email and send on to folks at home and the office. Finally, it came time to leave. Got on the plane, took 2 Ambien and passed out til we were almost in Amsterdam. The flight was late getting and I had to hustle to get to the continuing flight. They said the baggage might not make it.

I stayed awake throughout the trip to Houston, tried to reset my body clock, and we were late arriving in Houston, which screwed up my connecting flight to Dallas. Checked in with immigration, went to retrieve my bags and, of course, the gun case and duffle bag weren’t there. KLM had sent an escort (!) but since the bags didn’t show up he was useless and left. They said I had to make a claim for the luggage when I got to Dallas. Finally made it to Dallas, my buddy met me, and I filed a claim for the bags.

I kept checking daily for the bags; they didn’t show up until Tuesday, but both bags came in! Yay! Don’t know how they did it, but glad they did.



Overall impressions:

Look of the buff as he stared at me
Sight of him crashing into tree
Lots of rain
Catching fish
Bugs
River ..sand then water
Heat mornings, then rain
Trackers taking guts
Once it’s dead, then it’s meat
Forgot what day it was
Trip from Harare…lots of people
Ganyana's help in setting up the trip
First day, sighted in then drove, saw buffs
Second day, birthday, saw them, watched them, crawled on butt, had shot at them as crossing road, passed on it, 2 bulls in herd..one old, one young, bday cake, singing
Third day, in a different herd, several young bulls, one was tempting, on and off, finally off
Cigar and rum in the evenings, first two and last two nights around firepit, rest on the veranda
Chester and Zara, the Jack Russell terriers
Chester spooking buff on next to last day
2 long stalks on eland, 3rd and 4th days
Every morning bfast; coffee too strong, iced tea some afternoons
Joseph and Sunday, waiters
No communication with the outside world for entire hunt
Shooting two impala, one bait, one for Neverson
Leopard bait checking, sitting out one night in the blind


Well, that's it ... Sorry for taking up so much bandwidth but it was quite a trip. If any of you have questions, please let me know.

Congrats on a good hunt and a very good report. I notice you enjoy rum, good stuff in the evening. What a way to spend your birthday

Thanks for the post, and congrads on a good hunt.

Congratulations! Nice buff.

Really enjoyed your trip and your journal brought out the true "feeling" of your hunt. Very entertaining and I had some empathy developing for you on passing the buff and not finding another for so long.
Is it normal to find so many small herds without big boys or is that part of hunting late in the year?
Did you feel that the animals were a little wary of the truck sounds?
Is that a result of many hunters in the area?

If you could post additional photos I would thank you.
Frank

Thanks for the fine report! Looks like a good time was had!

Great report. I am glad you found your sable, could have been an expensive uh-oh! Excellent buff and eland bull, also.

Thanks for the comments, guys.

Jaco, yes, rum is my favorite libation. I gave up the single-malt scotches when I found a few very nice 'sipping' rums. I took a bottle of Pyrat 'Cask 23' with me on this trip. A good rum goes extremely well with a good cigar, one of my other passions.

Frank, I've thought about why we had so much trouble finding a shootable buff. Could have just been luck, with the buffalo moving around on such a large area. Just the property that Brooklands controls is right at 100,000 ac, and all of their contiguous boundaries are open and unfenced. That equates to a LOT of land for the animals to move around on. OTOH, since we saw so many young bulls in the herds, I was starting to wonder if they had simply shot out the mature bulls. Upon reflection, though, I'm leaning toward believing that the mature bulls were running around in dugga-boy groups and that we didn't target them early in the hunt like we did later. If we had been tracking the lone bulls and small groups more than the herds, we might have seen more mature bulls. It's a call the PH makes, and I'm not about to second guess him.

Oh, I'll try to stick all my photos up on some hosting site, and will PM the link to those who request it (only).

Bwanamrm, yep, the sable would have been an expensive uh-oh, and I had pretty well written it off. I hope you can get a bit of the anguish I was actually going through until he was found. It was actually more feeling for the animal than the fee. I'm aware of the cruelties that nature so generously provides its creatures, but in this case I was the one responsible, and it didn't go down easy at all.

Thanks for the kudos on the animals.

Postdriver,
Man, I have felt that anguish...most of us who hunt have been there. Believe it or not, I had the same issue with a sable. Shot through brush and hit him too low in the shoulder. Tracked him for three hours and just when we thought we might lose him, my tracker saw him with two other bulls and I redeemed my poor first shot. From agony to exhilaration all in the space of three hours!

Thanks for the detailed report and congrats on taking some fine trophies, the eland in particular is a real beauty!

Great report. Any sign of leopard?
THanks

Thank you for an excellent report and the great photographs! I am certain that all of the fellows here appreciate your efforts and enjoy hearing about your hunt as much as I do. Have a very Happy New Year!

Thanks for posting. Glad you got the Sable. Sounds like an awesome time.

Great read and very informative!

Fantastic report!

I hunted the Save last May. Our camp on the Mkwasine River in the ARDA game reserve looked exactly like yours. Very comfortable (except for the cobra that came calling in one of the tents one day).

Unike you, however, my "uh-oh" was not corrected and I paid a full trophy fee on a buffalo wounded and lost. We spent three days on blood AFTER it crossed the road into Hammond Ranch. I did manage to shoot a leopard, however.

Just where on the Save is the Brooklands Ranch in relation to Shaangan (Senuko)?

Senuko is on the southern side of the conservancy; Msaise is on the northern end. I didn't go to their camp, but I understand it's a long drive after you leave the pavement!

Terrific animals, thanks for posting.

Kyler

PostDriver,

Nice photos and good report.I also like the eland and the sable.

hamdeni

great story, great animals and a good ending to a tuff hunt. well done