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Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 32,206 Likes: 5
Campfire 'Bwana
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Campfire 'Bwana
Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 32,206 Likes: 5 |
A couple experiences with moose taught me to put in an insurance shot from a few yards out, then do the muzzle to the eye thing on close approach. Adrenaline shakes will do that.....  I've always been a bit more careful with the black bears I've shot than I started out to be with moose. I have recounted both moose experiences here at least twice each. Feral hogs and wild boar would be on another level entirely, up there with the bears or big cats.
The only true cost of having a dog is its death.
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Joined: Aug 2002
Posts: 37,958 Likes: 6
Campfire 'Bwana
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Campfire 'Bwana
Joined: Aug 2002
Posts: 37,958 Likes: 6 |
Growing up in the swamps of Central Florida, I killed my share. Had a couple that were pretty dammed exciting at the time of the kill, now they are just more like interesting memories. We had them all around us, always kept one in the freezer, just took them as needed. We called them wild boar but I suppose they were feral hogs, they were all black, they all had tusks. I gonna bore ya with some details to set this up so you might understand how I wound up in the predicament I did. At the ripe age of 14 I'd landed a job with a real estate developer that was subdivding a island in Tsala Apopka Lake. The island had a small cabin on it that I'd cleaned up and setup as my personal camping/hunting hangout. By water, it was about 8 or 10 miles from our home. I pulled up to 'my' cabin one day and there was a big f'in Lots For Sale sign nailed up, I gathered all my gear from the cabin, loaded my little skiff and hauled azz home. 2 hours later this realtor dude pulls up in our backyard in his boat claiming I'd stolen his stuff. He'd seen me leaving with my loaded skiff and hunted me down. We argued, we talked, 45 minutes later I was employed by him. He had needs, he needed a barge that'd haul a tractor, I knew where one was scuttled in the swamp. He needed someone wasn't afraid of snakes and spiders and such to help with his surveyors. They were just starting to break the island up into lots and there were 3 monuments they needed to find that were submerged due to high-water. My job was to wade around barefooted in chest deep water feeling for these 3 inch round brass monuments with my feet while staying clear of the occasional snakes and gators that were there. Nuttin' to it, I was his man. I worked throughout the entire survey cutting through 6 to 10 foot high old growth palmetto creating acer and a half lots out of a 30 acer island. Once the survey was complete we had to cut 10ft wide trails down every lot line and build docks were every other lot line met the water. Other than the survey company, that was long gone, I was the only one that knew where everything was, he let me hire two guys to help and away we went cutting through the palmettos and building the docks. I had to take my boat to work everyday, Tsala Apopka Lake is mostly made up of Sawgrass and shallow lillypads with a small percentage of open lakes. Here is a image of the island we developed, the small kicker trails or canals tie everything together, the upper right of this image shows a canal disappearing into the hazy horizon, that's the one I traveled everyday to get to work. ![[Linked Image from ap.rdcpix.com]](https://ap.rdcpix.com/356749237/36f29b2be9eed996fde21488f74158b7l-m3xd-w1020_h770_q80.jpg) Still with me? lol Every night I took home half a dozen machetes and two homelite chainsaws to sharpen for the following days work. So it was a typical morning and I was rippin' down the kicker trails heading to work in my little 12ft flatbottom skiff and I came up on this nice 250 pound or so hog swimming the trail I was in. I didn't have a gun, I kept a 12ga. on the island for a snake gun, all I had in the skiff was the machetes and chainsaws. I got up beside him cutting him off from the shallow area beside the kicker trail and started hacking away with one of the freshly sharpened machetes. The cuts were deep but he kept swimming and I kept circling him keeping him in deeper water and I kept hacking away at him. He kept trying to get to the shallows where his rear legs could touch the bottom. If he were to make it, he'd be able to cover ground more quickly and there was a palmetto laden island about 50 yards away. The wounds I was inflicting on him would eventually be fatal but I didn't have the time to wait on him to bleed out and then drag him outta the dam palmetto. I just couldn't get the machete through his backbone but I kept tryin', I was a 85 pound 14 year old skinny little fu_cker. There just wasn't nothing vital on the back side of his backbone to stop him. The hog started getting desperate and was trying to get in the skiff with me. If I let him hook a leg over the edge of my little boat he'd of turned me over for sure. I had to keep a hand on the tiller to keep the boat maneuvered to both keep him in deep water and be able to keep him close enough to chop on while keeping him from trying to climb in with me. We were both growing pretty tired of the entire event, him probably more so than me considering he had huge gashes in his back from his ears down to the hump on his back. I only had one option at that point, I fired up one of the homelite chainsaws. It took a couple attempts but once I got that bar sunk in him good he was done. I drug him over to the shore of the little island he'd been trying to get to and with the boat tipped on its side I was able to wrestle him in and off to work I went. The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived. They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice. Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went. Dang Jeff! Awesome story. Yep, a winner in several categories.
"...if the gentlemen of Virginia shall send us a dozen of their sons, we would take great care in their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them." Canasatego 1744
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Joined: Dec 2004
Posts: 9,743 Likes: 15
Campfire Outfitter
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Campfire Outfitter
Joined: Dec 2004
Posts: 9,743 Likes: 15 |
I'd suppose I really don't wanna know what all those categories may be 😉
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Joined: Jan 2006
Posts: 1,163
Campfire Regular
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Campfire Regular
Joined: Jan 2006
Posts: 1,163 |
Growing up in the swamps of Central Florida, I killed my share. Had a couple that were pretty dammed exciting at the time of the kill, now they are just more like interesting memories. We had them all around us, always kept one in the freezer, just took them as needed. We called them wild boar but I suppose they were feral hogs, they were all black, they all had tusks. I gonna bore ya with some details to set this up so you might understand how I wound up in the predicament I did. At the ripe age of 14 I'd landed a job with a real estate developer that was subdivding a island in Tsala Apopka Lake. The island had a small cabin on it that I'd cleaned up and setup as my personal camping/hunting hangout. By water, it was about 8 or 10 miles from our home. I pulled up to 'my' cabin one day and there was a big f'in Lots For Sale sign nailed up, I gathered all my gear from the cabin, loaded my little skiff and hauled azz home. 2 hours later this realtor dude pulls up in our backyard in his boat claiming I'd stolen his stuff. He'd seen me leaving with my loaded skiff and hunted me down. We argued, we talked, 45 minutes later I was employed by him. He had needs, he needed a barge that'd haul a tractor, I knew where one was scuttled in the swamp. He needed someone wasn't afraid of snakes and spiders and such to help with his surveyors. They were just starting to break the island up into lots and there were 3 monuments they needed to find that were submerged due to high-water. My job was to wade around barefooted in chest deep water feeling for these 3 inch round brass monuments with my feet while staying clear of the occasional snakes and gators that were there. Nuttin' to it, I was his man. I worked throughout the entire survey cutting through 6 to 10 foot high old growth palmetto creating acer and a half lots out of a 30 acer island. Once the survey was complete we had to cut 10ft wide trails down every lot line and build docks were every other lot line met the water. Other than the survey company, that was long gone, I was the only one that knew where everything was, he let me hire two guys to help and away we went cutting through the palmettos and building the docks. I had to take my boat to work everyday, Tsala Apopka Lake is mostly made up of Sawgrass and shallow lillypads with a small percentage of open lakes. Here is a image of the island we developed, the small kicker trails or canals tie everything together, the upper right of this image shows a canal disappearing into the hazy horizon, that's the one I traveled everyday to get to work. Still with me? lol Every night I took home half a dozen machetes and two homelite chainsaws to sharpen for the following days work. So it was a typical morning and I was rippin' down the kicker trails heading to work in my little 12ft flatbottom skiff and I came up on this nice 250 pound or so hog swimming the trail I was in. I didn't have a gun, I kept a 12ga. on the island for a snake gun, all I had in the skiff was the machetes and chainsaws. I got up beside him cutting him off from the shallow area beside the kicker trail and started hacking away with one of the freshly sharpened machetes. The cuts were deep but he kept swimming and I kept circling him keeping him in deeper water and I kept hacking away at him. He kept trying to get to the shallows where his rear legs could touch the bottom. If he were to make it, he'd be able to cover ground more quickly and there was a palmetto laden island about 50 yards away. The wounds I was inflicting on him would eventually be fatal but I didn't have the time to wait on him to bleed out and then drag him outta the dam palmetto. I just couldn't get the machete through his backbone but I kept tryin', I was a 85 pound 14 year old skinny little fu_cker. There just wasn't nothing vital on the back side of his backbone to stop him. The hog started getting desperate and was trying to get in the skiff with me. If I let him hook a leg over the edge of my little boat he'd of turned me over for sure. I had to keep a hand on the tiller to keep the boat maneuvered to both keep him in deep water and be able to keep him close enough to chop on while keeping him from trying to climb in with me. We were both growing pretty tired of the entire event, him probably more so than me considering he had huge gashes in his back from his ears down to the hump on his back. I only had one option at that point, I fired up one of the homelite chainsaws. It took a couple attempts but once I got that bar sunk in him good he was done. I drug him over to the shore of the little island he'd been trying to get to and with the boat tipped on its side I was able to wrestle him in and off to work I went. The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived. They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice. Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went Great story.
Last edited by 257 roberts; 01/25/22.
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Joined: Apr 2011
Posts: 69,419 Likes: 23
Campfire Kahuna
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OP
Campfire Kahuna
Joined: Apr 2011
Posts: 69,419 Likes: 23 |
Another tried to get up and get my little brother and my nephew and I put it down with a Glock 20 10mm using the Buffalo Boar 220 gr Outdoorsman Factory Hard Cast Load.
Glock warns against lead bullets. Have you had any troubles linked to their use? Never. But I only shoot Hard Cast bullets. None of those soft swaged ones.
"Allways speak the truth and you will never have to remember what you said before..." Sam Houston
Texans, "We say Grace, We Say Mam, If You Don't Like it, We Don't Give a Damn!"
~Molɔ̀ːn Labé Skýla~
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Joined: Jun 2002
Posts: 131,923 Likes: 53
Campfire Sage
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Campfire Sage
Joined: Jun 2002
Posts: 131,923 Likes: 53 |
Another tried to get up and get my little brother and my nephew and I put it down with a Glock 20 10mm using the Buffalo Boar 220 gr Outdoorsman Factory Hard Cast Load.
Glock warns against lead bullets. Have you had any troubles linked to their use? Never. But I only shoot Hard Cast bullets. None of those soft swaged ones. Makes sense.
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Joined: Dec 2002
Posts: 14,301 Likes: 5
Campfire Outfitter
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Campfire Outfitter
Joined: Dec 2002
Posts: 14,301 Likes: 5 |
I wonder if the Italian guy was bitten, or if the hog stuck him with a tusk.
I had no idea that there was wild hog hunting in Italy.
Interesting story, I have shot about 15 of them in the Georgia swamps. Love to put a ham from a 95 pound sow in the smoker with some pecan wood. Best meat I ever ate.
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Joined: Jun 2002
Posts: 131,923 Likes: 53
Campfire Sage
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Campfire Sage
Joined: Jun 2002
Posts: 131,923 Likes: 53 |
I wonder if the Italian guy was bitten, or if the hog stuck him with a tusk.
I had no idea that there was wild hog hunting in Italy.
Interesting story, I have shot about 15 of them in the Georgia swamps. Love to put a ham from a 95 pound sow in the smoker with some pecan wood. Best meat I ever ate. Oh, wild boar hunting is a huge tradition in Italy, and all over Europe. They are more pure wild blooded boar over there than here, though.
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Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 10,986 Likes: 2
Campfire Outfitter
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Campfire Outfitter
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 10,986 Likes: 2 |
Growing up in the swamps of Central Florida, I killed my share. Had a couple that were pretty dammed exciting at the time of the kill, now they are just more like interesting memories. We had them all around us, always kept one in the freezer, just took them as needed. We called them wild boar but I suppose they were feral hogs, they were all black, they all had tusks. I gonna bore ya with some details to set this up so you might understand how I wound up in the predicament I did. At the ripe age of 14 I'd landed a job with a real estate developer that was subdivding a island in Tsala Apopka Lake. The island had a small cabin on it that I'd cleaned up and setup as my personal camping/hunting hangout. By water, it was about 8 or 10 miles from our home. I pulled up to 'my' cabin one day and there was a big f'in Lots For Sale sign nailed up, I gathered all my gear from the cabin, loaded my little skiff and hauled azz home. 2 hours later this realtor dude pulls up in our backyard in his boat claiming I'd stolen his stuff. He'd seen me leaving with my loaded skiff and hunted me down. We argued, we talked, 45 minutes later I was employed by him. He had needs, he needed a barge that'd haul a tractor, I knew where one was scuttled in the swamp. He needed someone wasn't afraid of snakes and spiders and such to help with his surveyors. They were just starting to break the island up into lots and there were 3 monuments they needed to find that were submerged due to high-water. My job was to wade around barefooted in chest deep water feeling for these 3 inch round brass monuments with my feet while staying clear of the occasional snakes and gators that were there. Nuttin' to it, I was his man. I worked throughout the entire survey cutting through 6 to 10 foot high old growth palmetto creating acer and a half lots out of a 30 acer island. Once the survey was complete we had to cut 10ft wide trails down every lot line and build docks were every other lot line met the water. Other than the survey company, that was long gone, I was the only one that knew where everything was, he let me hire two guys to help and away we went cutting through the palmettos and building the docks. I had to take my boat to work everyday, Tsala Apopka Lake is mostly made up of Sawgrass and shallow lillypads with a small percentage of open lakes. Here is a image of the island we developed, the small kicker trails or canals tie everything together, the upper right of this image shows a canal disappearing into the hazy horizon, that's the one I traveled everyday to get to work. Still with me? lol Every night I took home half a dozen machetes and two homelite chainsaws to sharpen for the following days work. So it was a typical morning and I was rippin' down the kicker trails heading to work in my little 12ft flatbottom skiff and I came up on this nice 250 pound or so hog swimming the trail I was in. I didn't have a gun, I kept a 12ga. on the island for a snake gun, all I had in the skiff was the machetes and chainsaws. I got up beside him cutting him off from the shallow area beside the kicker trail and started hacking away with one of the freshly sharpened machetes. The cuts were deep but he kept swimming and I kept circling him keeping him in deeper water and I kept hacking away at him. He kept trying to get to the shallows where his rear legs could touch the bottom. If he were to make it, he'd be able to cover ground more quickly and there was a palmetto laden island about 50 yards away. The wounds I was inflicting on him would eventually be fatal but I didn't have the time to wait on him to bleed out and then drag him outta the dam palmetto. I just couldn't get the machete through his backbone but I kept tryin', I was a 85 pound 14 year old skinny little fu_cker. There just wasn't nothing vital on the back side of his backbone to stop him. The hog started getting desperate and was trying to get in the skiff with me. If I let him hook a leg over the edge of my little boat he'd of turned me over for sure. I had to keep a hand on the tiller to keep the boat maneuvered to both keep him in deep water and be able to keep him close enough to chop on while keeping him from trying to climb in with me. We were both growing pretty tired of the entire event, him probably more so than me considering he had huge gashes in his back from his ears down to the hump on his back. I only had one option at that point, I fired up one of the homelite chainsaws. It took a couple attempts but once I got that bar sunk in him good he was done. I drug him over to the shore of the little island he'd been trying to get to and with the boat tipped on its side I was able to wrestle him in and off to work I went. The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived. They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice. Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went Great story. Reading that story anyone else have the Doors "The End" playing in their head?
Last edited by kenjs1; 01/25/22.
When a country is well governed, poverty and a mean condition are something to be ashamed of. When a country is ill governed, riches and honors are something to be ashamed of
. Confucius
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Joined: Mar 2005
Posts: 11,722 Likes: 5
Campfire Outfitter
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Campfire Outfitter
Joined: Mar 2005
Posts: 11,722 Likes: 5 |
Another tried to get up and get my little brother and my nephew and I put it down with a Glock 20 10mm using the Buffalo Boar 220 gr Outdoorsman Factory Hard Cast Load.
Glock warns against lead bullets. Have you had any troubles linked to their use? I shoot the 220 gr. Underwood Ammo hard cast with the Hi-Tek coating in my G20 with zero issues. Yes, a 220 gr. hard cast flat point at 1200 fps buckles a hog nicely.
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.
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Joined: Sep 2004
Posts: 29,383
Campfire Ranger
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Campfire Ranger
Joined: Sep 2004
Posts: 29,383 |
Growing up in the swamps of Central Florida, I killed my share. Had a couple that were pretty dammed exciting at the time of the kill, now they are just more like interesting memories. We had them all around us, always kept one in the freezer, just took them as needed. We called them wild boar but I suppose they were feral hogs, they were all black, they all had tusks. I gonna bore ya with some details to set this up so you might understand how I wound up in the predicament I did. At the ripe age of 14 I'd landed a job with a real estate developer that was subdivding a island in Tsala Apopka Lake. The island had a small cabin on it that I'd cleaned up and setup as my personal camping/hunting hangout. By water, it was about 8 or 10 miles from our home. I pulled up to 'my' cabin one day and there was a big f'in Lots For Sale sign nailed up, I gathered all my gear from the cabin, loaded my little skiff and hauled azz home. 2 hours later this realtor dude pulls up in our backyard in his boat claiming I'd stolen his stuff. He'd seen me leaving with my loaded skiff and hunted me down. We argued, we talked, 45 minutes later I was employed by him. He had needs, he needed a barge that'd haul a tractor, I knew where one was scuttled in the swamp. He needed someone wasn't afraid of snakes and spiders and such to help with his surveyors. They were just starting to break the island up into lots and there were 3 monuments they needed to find that were submerged due to high-water. My job was to wade around barefooted in chest deep water feeling for these 3 inch round brass monuments with my feet while staying clear of the occasional snakes and gators that were there. Nuttin' to it, I was his man. I worked throughout the entire survey cutting through 6 to 10 foot high old growth palmetto creating acer and a half lots out of a 30 acer island. Once the survey was complete we had to cut 10ft wide trails down every lot line and build docks were every other lot line met the water. Other than the survey company, that was long gone, I was the only one that knew where everything was, he let me hire two guys to help and away we went cutting through the palmettos and building the docks. I had to take my boat to work everyday, Tsala Apopka Lake is mostly made up of Sawgrass and shallow lillypads with a small percentage of open lakes. Here is a image of the island we developed, the small kicker trails or canals tie everything together, the upper right of this image shows a canal disappearing into the hazy horizon, that's the one I traveled everyday to get to work. Still with me? lol Every night I took home half a dozen machetes and two homelite chainsaws to sharpen for the following days work. So it was a typical morning and I was rippin' down the kicker trails heading to work in my little 12ft flatbottom skiff and I came up on this nice 250 pound or so hog swimming the trail I was in. I didn't have a gun, I kept a 12ga. on the island for a snake gun, all I had in the skiff was the machetes and chainsaws. I got up beside him cutting him off from the shallow area beside the kicker trail and started hacking away with one of the freshly sharpened machetes. The cuts were deep but he kept swimming and I kept circling him keeping him in deeper water and I kept hacking away at him. He kept trying to get to the shallows where his rear legs could touch the bottom. If he were to make it, he'd be able to cover ground more quickly and there was a palmetto laden island about 50 yards away. The wounds I was inflicting on him would eventually be fatal but I didn't have the time to wait on him to bleed out and then drag him outta the dam palmetto. I just couldn't get the machete through his backbone but I kept tryin', I was a 85 pound 14 year old skinny little fu_cker. There just wasn't nothing vital on the back side of his backbone to stop him. The hog started getting desperate and was trying to get in the skiff with me. If I let him hook a leg over the edge of my little boat he'd of turned me over for sure. I had to keep a hand on the tiller to keep the boat maneuvered to both keep him in deep water and be able to keep him close enough to chop on while keeping him from trying to climb in with me. We were both growing pretty tired of the entire event, him probably more so than me considering he had huge gashes in his back from his ears down to the hump on his back. I only had one option at that point, I fired up one of the homelite chainsaws. It took a couple attempts but once I got that bar sunk in him good he was done. I drug him over to the shore of the little island he'd been trying to get to and with the boat tipped on its side I was able to wrestle him in and off to work I went. The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived. They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice. Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went. Dang Jeff! Awesome story. Yep, a winner in several categories. Having lived in Florida and hunted there I would not be surprised about anything happening in the wilds. Beautiful place I miss it and hope to retire there.
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Joined: Dec 2004
Posts: 9,743 Likes: 15
Campfire Outfitter
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Campfire Outfitter
Joined: Dec 2004
Posts: 9,743 Likes: 15 |
Reading that story anyone else have the Doors "The End" playing in their head?
After re-reading how I told the story I'd have to say more folks may have been hearing Dueling Banjos playing in the background.
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Joined: Oct 2008
Posts: 18,178
Campfire Ranger
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Campfire Ranger
Joined: Oct 2008
Posts: 18,178 |
Obviously COVID-19 related death....
TRUMP- GABBARD 2024
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Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 3,019 Likes: 3
Campfire Tracker
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Campfire Tracker
Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 3,019 Likes: 3 |
Growing up in the swamps of Central Florida, I killed my share. Had a couple that were pretty dammed exciting at the time of the kill, now they are just more like interesting memories. We had them all around us, always kept one in the freezer, just took them as needed. We called them wild boar but I suppose they were feral hogs, they were all black, they all had tusks. I gonna bore ya with some details to set this up so you might understand how I wound up in the predicament I did. At the ripe age of 14 I'd landed a job with a real estate developer that was subdivding a island in Tsala Apopka Lake. The island had a small cabin on it that I'd cleaned up and setup as my personal camping/hunting hangout. By water, it was about 8 or 10 miles from our home. I pulled up to 'my' cabin one day and there was a big f'in Lots For Sale sign nailed up, I gathered all my gear from the cabin, loaded my little skiff and hauled azz home. 2 hours later this realtor dude pulls up in our backyard in his boat claiming I'd stolen his stuff. He'd seen me leaving with my loaded skiff and hunted me down. We argued, we talked, 45 minutes later I was employed by him. He had needs, he needed a barge that'd haul a tractor, I knew where one was scuttled in the swamp. He needed someone wasn't afraid of snakes and spiders and such to help with his surveyors. They were just starting to break the island up into lots and there were 3 monuments they needed to find that were submerged due to high-water. My job was to wade around barefooted in chest deep water feeling for these 3 inch round brass monuments with my feet while staying clear of the occasional snakes and gators that were there. Nuttin' to it, I was his man. I worked throughout the entire survey cutting through 6 to 10 foot high old growth palmetto creating acer and a half lots out of a 30 acer island. Once the survey was complete we had to cut 10ft wide trails down every lot line and build docks were every other lot line met the water. Other than the survey company, that was long gone, I was the only one that knew where everything was, he let me hire two guys to help and away we went cutting through the palmettos and building the docks. I had to take my boat to work everyday, Tsala Apopka Lake is mostly made up of Sawgrass and shallow lillypads with a small percentage of open lakes. Here is a image of the island we developed, the small kicker trails or canals tie everything together, the upper right of this image shows a canal disappearing into the hazy horizon, that's the one I traveled everyday to get to work. Still with me? lol Every night I took home half a dozen machetes and two homelite chainsaws to sharpen for the following days work. So it was a typical morning and I was rippin' down the kicker trails heading to work in my little 12ft flatbottom skiff and I came up on this nice 250 pound or so hog swimming the trail I was in. I didn't have a gun, I kept a 12ga. on the island for a snake gun, all I had in the skiff was the machetes and chainsaws. I got up beside him cutting him off from the shallow area beside the kicker trail and started hacking away with one of the freshly sharpened machetes. The cuts were deep but he kept swimming and I kept circling him keeping him in deeper water and I kept hacking away at him. He kept trying to get to the shallows where his rear legs could touch the bottom. If he were to make it, he'd be able to cover ground more quickly and there was a palmetto laden island about 50 yards away. The wounds I was inflicting on him would eventually be fatal but I didn't have the time to wait on him to bleed out and then drag him outta the dam palmetto. I just couldn't get the machete through his backbone but I kept tryin', I was a 85 pound 14 year old skinny little fu_cker. There just wasn't nothing vital on the back side of his backbone to stop him. The hog started getting desperate and was trying to get in the skiff with me. If I let him hook a leg over the edge of my little boat he'd of turned me over for sure. I had to keep a hand on the tiller to keep the boat maneuvered to both keep him in deep water and be able to keep him close enough to chop on while keeping him from trying to climb in with me. We were both growing pretty tired of the entire event, him probably more so than me considering he had huge gashes in his back from his ears down to the hump on his back. I only had one option at that point, I fired up one of the homelite chainsaws. It took a couple attempts but once I got that bar sunk in him good he was done. I drug him over to the shore of the little island he'd been trying to get to and with the boat tipped on its side I was able to wrestle him in and off to work I went. The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived. They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice. Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went. Dang Jeff! Awesome story. Yep, a winner in several categories. Having lived in Florida and hunted there I would not be surprised about anything happening in the wilds. Beautiful place I miss it and hope to retire there. Lot's of pigs in Florida.
Padded VA Hospital Rooms for $1000 Alex My ignoree,s will never be Rock Stars on 24 hr campfire.....Like me!!!! What are psychotic puppet hunters?
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Joined: Oct 2006
Posts: 24,660 Likes: 22
Campfire Ranger
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Campfire Ranger
Joined: Oct 2006
Posts: 24,660 Likes: 22 |
Hernando de Soto is known to have introduced Eurasian domestic swine to Florida in year 1539, although Juan Ponce de León may have introduced the first pigs into mainland Florida in 1521. The practice of introducing domestic pigs into the New World persisted throughout the exploration periods of the 16th and 17th centuries.
PRESIDENT TRUMP 2024/2028 !!!!!!!!!!
Posted by Bristoe
The people wringing their hands over Trump's rhetoric don't know what time it is in America.
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Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 32,206 Likes: 5
Campfire 'Bwana
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Campfire 'Bwana
Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 32,206 Likes: 5 |
The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived.
They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice.
Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went
Great story. Reading that story anyone else have the Doors "The End" playing in their head. More like "Dueling Banjos" from Deliverance.
The only true cost of having a dog is its death.
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Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 3,019 Likes: 3
Campfire Tracker
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Campfire Tracker
Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 3,019 Likes: 3 |
Growing up in the swamps of Central Florida, I killed my share. Had a couple that were pretty dammed exciting at the time of the kill, now they are just more like interesting memories. We had them all around us, always kept one in the freezer, just took them as needed. We called them wild boar but I suppose they were feral hogs, they were all black, they all had tusks. I gonna bore ya with some details to set this up so you might understand how I wound up in the predicament I did. At the ripe age of 14 I'd landed a job with a real estate developer that was subdivding a island in Tsala Apopka Lake. The island had a small cabin on it that I'd cleaned up and setup as my personal camping/hunting hangout. By water, it was about 8 or 10 miles from our home. I pulled up to 'my' cabin one day and there was a big f'in Lots For Sale sign nailed up, I gathered all my gear from the cabin, loaded my little skiff and hauled azz home. 2 hours later this realtor dude pulls up in our backyard in his boat claiming I'd stolen his stuff. He'd seen me leaving with my loaded skiff and hunted me down. We argued, we talked, 45 minutes later I was employed by him. He had needs, he needed a barge that'd haul a tractor, I knew where one was scuttled in the swamp. He needed someone wasn't afraid of snakes and spiders and such to help with his surveyors. They were just starting to break the island up into lots and there were 3 monuments they needed to find that were submerged due to high-water. My job was to wade around barefooted in chest deep water feeling for these 3 inch round brass monuments with my feet while staying clear of the occasional snakes and gators that were there. Nuttin' to it, I was his man. I worked throughout the entire survey cutting through 6 to 10 foot high old growth palmetto creating acer and a half lots out of a 30 acer island. Once the survey was complete we had to cut 10ft wide trails down every lot line and build docks were every other lot line met the water. Other than the survey company, that was long gone, I was the only one that knew where everything was, he let me hire two guys to help and away we went cutting through the palmettos and building the docks. I had to take my boat to work everyday, Tsala Apopka Lake is mostly made up of Sawgrass and shallow lillypads with a small percentage of open lakes. Here is a image of the island we developed, the small kicker trails or canals tie everything together, the upper right of this image shows a canal disappearing into the hazy horizon, that's the one I traveled everyday to get to work. Still with me? lol Every night I took home half a dozen machetes and two homelite chainsaws to sharpen for the following days work. So it was a typical morning and I was rippin' down the kicker trails heading to work in my little 12ft flatbottom skiff and I came up on this nice 250 pound or so hog swimming the trail I was in. I didn't have a gun, I kept a 12ga. on the island for a snake gun, all I had in the skiff was the machetes and chainsaws. I got up beside him cutting him off from the shallow area beside the kicker trail and started hacking away with one of the freshly sharpened machetes. The cuts were deep but he kept swimming and I kept circling him keeping him in deeper water and I kept hacking away at him. He kept trying to get to the shallows where his rear legs could touch the bottom. If he were to make it, he'd be able to cover ground more quickly and there was a palmetto laden island about 50 yards away. The wounds I was inflicting on him would eventually be fatal but I didn't have the time to wait on him to bleed out and then drag him outta the dam palmetto. I just couldn't get the machete through his backbone but I kept tryin', I was a 85 pound 14 year old skinny little fu_cker. There just wasn't nothing vital on the back side of his backbone to stop him. The hog started getting desperate and was trying to get in the skiff with me. If I let him hook a leg over the edge of my little boat he'd of turned me over for sure. I had to keep a hand on the tiller to keep the boat maneuvered to both keep him in deep water and be able to keep him close enough to chop on while keeping him from trying to climb in with me. We were both growing pretty tired of the entire event, him probably more so than me considering he had huge gashes in his back from his ears down to the hump on his back. I only had one option at that point, I fired up one of the homelite chainsaws. It took a couple attempts but once I got that bar sunk in him good he was done. I drug him over to the shore of the little island he'd been trying to get to and with the boat tipped on its side I was able to wrestle him in and off to work I went. The other guys were already on the island waiting on me to show up with the tools when I arrived. They were giving me some odd looks as I pulled up to the dock, they were like 'dude you're all bloody', that chainsaw had me covered with blood spray. I was on a bit of a adrenal rush I guess and really hadn't taken notice. Jumped in the lake and cleaned up and off to work I went. Must of been a advanced class at the Chainsaw College
Padded VA Hospital Rooms for $1000 Alex My ignoree,s will never be Rock Stars on 24 hr campfire.....Like me!!!! What are psychotic puppet hunters?
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Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 842
Campfire Regular
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Campfire Regular
Joined: Jun 2005
Posts: 842 |
This one damn near got me, he came out of the brush, chasing my dog, where the hell do you think my dog went? right behind my legs, we had a fast draw contest , I won. Rio7 ![[Linked Image from i.imgur.com]](https://i.imgur.com/Eks9dSL.jpg) And what did it finish off? Handgun or rifle? Looks like John Dillinger's face. He had the exit wound of the bullet at the same location of his face.
Elmer Keith
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Joined: Nov 2009
Posts: 6,889 Likes: 6
Campfire Tracker
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Campfire Tracker
Joined: Nov 2009
Posts: 6,889 Likes: 6 |
Elmer Keith, .45 LC 1873 Colt, don't remember what ammo i was using, but it worked, 1 and done. Rio7
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Joined: Oct 2008
Posts: 5,312
Campfire Tracker
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Campfire Tracker
Joined: Oct 2008
Posts: 5,312 |
I wonder if the Italian guy was bitten, or if the hog stuck him with a tusk.
I had no idea that there was wild hog hunting in Italy.
Interesting story, I have shot about 15 of them in the Georgia swamps. Love to put a ham from a 95 pound sow in the smoker with some pecan wood. Best meat I ever ate. I used to see them from the train in Italy, biggest one I saw looked to be great dane sized in height. We ate little "cingihale" baked whole in loaf pans, in a village named pienza. Friggin' Italians know what food should taste like.
.... like tears in the rain
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