Dangerous Game Cartidges, but the charts are microscopic, so one loses ½ of the value of his work.
Ammo Carry – I used a Boyt Harness cartridge rack. This 5 round belt slide and a box with snap lid I made 20 years ago for toting .495 A-Square cartridges worked great. The box holds eight .375 Ruger rounds with a piece of USGI sleeping pad foam on top to preclude rattling. I also carried one box of 20 rounds in the Eberlestock ruck.
The Safari – Fly day was 14SEP21. TSA in Kansas City tried to exercise their petty tyrant card at their molestation point. The x-ray screener took issue with my back-up rifle scope (a Trijicon 1-6x24 with green tritium dot circle reticle in an Aero Precision mount) in my carry-on bag. She called in the shift captain, who sided with her. I then produced the e-mail response from the TSAwebsite stating that scopes can be carried in carry-on baggage, told them that I had called the 800 line and got the same answer. Meanwhile, behind these two petty tyrants, another TSA lady was busily looking up the issue on her cell phone. She showed her boss that the website has a green check mark beside carry-on transportation of the optic, so they finally relented. The Trijicon 1-6x24 went on the plane in my carry-on. I was polite/professional during the entire disagreement, so they had no excuse to play the BFYTW card on me. I thanked the young lady that supported me with her cell phone look-up a little while later.
We flew United. The puddle jumper from KC to Newark was OK. No issues. The 787 from Newark to J-burg was an hour late departing due to United’s failure to get it ready on time. The electronics in the cabin were all dead – no attendant call button, no reading light, no flight tracking. The movies played, but three requests to the flight crew for earphones were ignored and never answered. One stewardess in particular was incapable of walking down the 12” wide aisle without slamming her ass into each and every person sitting in the aisle seats. I finally switched seats with my wife to sit by the window so I wouldn’t come unglued after being smacked in the shoulder for the 39th time. The flight crew left the lights turned out until 1 hour out from J-burg.
My assessment is that this was done in order to not have to serve passengers anything, and to control us/keep us in our seats. A stewardess literally smacked a man in the shoulder to wake him up and ordered him to pull his mask up over his nose. I don’t know if he had pulled it down, or it slipped down while he slept. One of the two times I got up to take a leak, I was ordered back into my seat by some pencil-necked faux boy tyrant due to the seat belt sign being lit. It was lit 95% of the flight as the turbulence over the Atlantic was constant and pronounced. At some point, though, the bladder capacity warning light can no longer be ignored. I waited another 5 minutes and sprang from my seat before faux boy could say anything else.
As I exited the aircraft in J-burg, I watched a stewardess shoveling soft drink cans into a duffel bag she brought to take them home with her. Perhaps this was a contributing factor to why were we offered virtually nothing but half-sized bottles of water? In short, the flight crew took up overhead bins with their luggage and terrorized the passengers with their Dachau SS guard attitude and orders. Outside of a life or death situation, I will not be using United ever again.
Rifle Permits, Inc. met me at the gate and the securing of my cases was perfectly painless. The elder couple that runs this service did a perfect job and I feel like the $140 for feeding the bureaucracy was worth the lack of stress and potential errors I might have made. My Nanuk bag/box was sent to the “Oversized” luggage area, slowing us down a bit on collecting our bags. I made sure to let Robert know that my “oversized” reputation had preceded me, so we had a chuckle.
The first wake-up to South Africa occurred in the parking garage. While TJ and Natalie were herding us to the van and bakkie in the garage, a large local passed us for reconnaissance, and then a few moments later his smaller accomplice attempted to approach us with a baggage cart to “help” us with our luggage, which was already loaded onto baggage carts. TJ went junk yard dog on the smaller one, and I was a hair’s breadth from stepping in front of his larger partner who had circled around and come up on the other side of the group. Not speaking Afrikaans, I don’t have the word for word replay, but TJ let the shyster know that he had strayed into our space and he needed to back off IMMEDIATELY!
Becky and I rode with TJ in the bakkie to Sherewood Manor. This is a small compound hotel and grill. A 5’ stone wall with hot wire fencing lining the top surrounds the enclosure. Very well-manicured foliage on the grounds and surprisingly quiet for being inside of Pretoria. Rooms were very nice. South Africans cannot decide where to place their light switches! Food supervised by Ozzy was great. He struggled with my horribly restricted dietary needs, but I never went hungry. As I understand it, Drom has purchased ½ ownership of the hotel to vertically integrate his operation. Smart move.
The 16th brought breakfast at Sherewood, and we were off to Nico’s property. As I understood it, this “parcel” of land was “just” 16,000 acres. The rifles fired OK at the range, but we both tweaked them a bit. TJ had us fire from the back of the bakkie, which was not something I had trained for. I had practiced seated, kneeling, using the seat to my shooting bench as a rest, off the sticks, unsupported standing – but not off the support shelf in the bakkie. It took a bit to figure out the best way to use this, but I got it shortly. One of TJ’s Clients this year had opened his case at the zero range with, “ I hope it is still zeroed. I haven’t fired it in about 18 months.” TJ breathed a sigh of relief with our zero-confirmation performance. I had been sending reports to the office of my range practice sessions, but I am sure for him, seeing was believing.
Since Robert had been twice before to Africa, I was the primary candidate to be the first shooter. We went out looking for a zebra first. Just driving around looking, I saw more animals in the first ½ day of hunting, than I have seen deer in two decades of hunting in MO. We arrived at Nico’s to a 200 yard-long parade of cape buffalo. The first day brought: eland, blesbok, impala, sable, waterbuck, blue wildebeest, giraffe, warthog, baboons, and kudu. The number of animals was just stunning.
Eventually, we came upon a zebra herd. They scurried away, down through a creek bed and onto a plain on the far side. TJ said to dismount and off we went. After about 50 yards, he threw the sticks up, and to his utter surprise, I was on them in a flash. Apparently, most Americans are 25 yards behind the PH with their binos stuck to their face, trying to figure out what he was looking at vs. getting the rifle on the sticks. I had actually practiced moving up onto the sticks on my range sessions, and it paid off. I picked up the matriarch mare and her foal at the far left of the string of the animals. TJ coached me from the side to look for the stallion bringing up the rear of the herd to the far right of the group. I panned down the brush line of the creek and picked him up as he climbed up onto the plain. When he stopped at about 110 yards, I settled the red dot onto his chest and squeezed. The 270 Barnes TSX passed right through the centerline of his chest and down he went. I racked the bolt and got immediately back onto him. Good thing, because, up he came. Having read Boddington and Woods profusely to learn all I could before the trip, I had the schooling that it would be a bad thing to NOT put a 2nd round into a zebra. Tracking a wounded zebra could eat up a day or two of your safari. When the dot settled on the chevron of his left shoulder, I sent the second round. I broke both shoulders with this pass-through round.
Meanwhile, TJ uttered an unprintable exclamation. He had begun moving up to collect the sticks and go downrange to retrieve the zebra. I don’t think he had ever had an American Client with the skills and presence of mind to fire a follow-up shot. He did not have his fingers in his ears for the 2nd round. He thought I had had a negligent discharge. When I explained why I had fired a 2nd round, he really had nothing further to say. If I had post-safari 20/20 hindsight going in, I should have “rehearsed” with him the engagement and that I had trained to fire a 2nd round.
When we got to the stallion, he was still trying to get up, so at 2 yards I fired a finishing shot into his chest along the keel. 3 rounds of .375 – one tough pony! The round stopped under the skin of the left shoulder, minus two petals. Being the ignorant 1st safari guy, I was just pleased that I had put the rounds in the correct place, and that I had run the gun without hesitation. TJ and Nico had to tell me he was a huge stallion. Beautiful mane, great stripes, scars from fighting. First blood drawn in Africa, so stripes went onto my cheeks.
BTW – the norm was Nico AND his property manager rode in the cab of the bakkie, Robert and I in the seat, TJ standing in the bed behind us. Three sets of calibrated eyeballs searching for game, and every so often Robert or I would spot something. These guys were working hard to find our animals and get us on them!
The return to the camp was followed by firepit time, some adult beverages. Leonard, the one man band caretaker, made us chef-level chow. That guy just breathes “I want to serve you.”
