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Warning - This is for those who are interested in African hunting, interested in sharing experiences, have been there and enjoy reliving the unique experiences vicariously or for those who dream of someday going. All of the Never-been-there,/Never-done-it and Have ZERO desire do anything but troll because you have a lonely miserable existence,, just GFY right now as you exit this thread. Those of you that love Africa and or desire to go one day, I write of my experiences for you/us to enjoy. Bring a sense of humor, leave any Woke sensitivies or overblown delusions of self importantce at the door. Thank you.


I want to share some of my adventures just had on a month long safari in Zambia an RSA. In Zambia, (July 17-Aug 12) I hunted a concession of 1300 sq/km in south Luangwa with Johnny DuPlooy. In RSA I hunted the Karoo and Eastern Cape with John X Safaris. I've hunted with with both numerous times. Every safari has a story, a highlight, some funny some tragic. I've been detained at gunpoint by people in Kenneth Kuanda's old regime, I've had cape buffalo walk up to me so close that when I mounted my double I poked it the nose and got snot on the barrels. I've seen fishermen killed by hippos, poachers beaten with sticks by government scouts. I've barfed in passport control, and stitched up trackers gored by buffalo. None of that tops this next story!



As told to my best friends:

“You are not going to believe this one!

I’m in Zambia on safari.

We are out for the morning hunt. Kudu and tuskless elephant only things left. We hit the trail. Stalk and glass a number of herds. All have tusks or the wind is wrong and they detect us and clear out. See only kudu females. The males aren’t running with them. Not time for amorè I guess.

We see impala, puku, giraffe, buffalo etc, but nothing on our menu.

I mentioned this 1300 sq km is privately owned by muslim Indians and leased. It’s a big area.

About 10:00 a vehicle comes up behind us honking. It’s loaded with people. Black local dude who’s one of the foremen on the ranch, and a dozen “Mohammedans” as Robert Ruark wrote about. Literally 12 hombres with beards, funky muslim head gear and that long flowing stuff they wear complete with ugly ass sandals.

It seems half were of the family that owned the property and 6 “guests” from India. They explained they wanted a feast for lunch with the friends, impala specifically. They had the Imam there with a big knife to to do the halal. Critical!

Their problem was, they couldn’t shoot for [bleep]! They had been hunting since sunup, missing an unknown number of shots, or wounded game that ran off. See, it’s no good if it runs and dies before the coup de grace.

They most humbly asked if Bwana Makumbwa (Me) would do them the honor of plugging a maleimpala for them. Not a nice puku or waterbuck or female, it must be a ram impala.

Sure.
I tell my son to do the honors. We drive around and find one in the flats. Johnny takes my son on the stalk, all dozen Mohammedans follow. I’m not kidding. Must have thought that hideous garb they wore had stealth properties. They don’t. They wanted to be close to pounce and cut. The Impala naturally runs off as the hoard approached.

My son sees that huge entourage and big phoucing knife and pleads “Dad, YOU need to take care of this! “

Ok, dad will deal with it.

We drive, find two rams in thick bush off to my left. I can’t see them. The True Believers are all excited thinking lunch is coming. I’m frustrated. We move and see them. Two lined up. One shot gets two, but I wasn’t sure how the Zambian Game Dept would view that. Let one clear and boom! DRT.

There is and explosion of Allah’s children tripping over themselves to get to the animal. SOB gets his big MFing knife and goes ear to ear. They pray over the dearly departed and then are all smiles. I am instantly the hailed greatest Infidel on planet earth, invited to the party as honored guest and all that.

Immediately they ask me where I’m from, what religion I am and do I know Mohammed.

Oh [bleep]! Talk about being cornered! I admit I’m Christian but quickly start spouting off the 5 pillars of Islam and how I’m sure that Mohammed and Jesus were coming in the last days to kick ass and take names.😳

That brought smiles, as they were happy to know I wasn’t an ignorant Infidel, and they would take the opportunity at lunch to finish my conversion to the One True Religion. WTF???

Johnny saved us by telling them we had a date with an elephant, so they blessed me, my rifle, my family, and all those that dwell within my realm.

This is a note a joke. Really happened. 🤕😳

The Iman is the dude in the blue. The Chubby dud on the right with the glasses was the one so concerned about my spiriual wellbeing. He has divergent eyes. One looks east and one looks west. Do you know how disconcerting it is to attempt to make eye contact and speak with somebody that has exotropia? Unnerving!

I'll continue to post as I upload photos.

I'll never make it to Africa but I enjoy hearing the stories. I look forward to the continuing saga.

Ummmm, well $hit. That's not a hunting experience I would enjoy but hunting on private property has its challenges and surprises.

Hope your hunt was less.... exciting I suppose?

vicariously...until my next trip!

Great story, Africa trips are always interesting. Something always happens!

This is a great concession, and a fantastic conservation story. So by my calculations, 1300 square kilometers is 500 square miles, or a tract of land 22 miles by 23 miles. It was considered "Depleted" of game 20+ years ago. The owners bought and with severe anti-poaching efforts, the game has come back. LOTS of game. Saw lions, saw leopard tracts all over and heard the baboons raising hell with the after dark. Buffalo by the hundreds. More roan than I've ever seen on any tri. Puku, impala, etc.

They employ up 60 anti poaching "guards, that are armed, live in camps on the concession, and work with the Game Department. It borders a national park on one side so is protecting the NP from poaching.

This is a success.

Hatari, thanks for the picture and narrative. Interesting story. Glad the Iman did not decide to make a "good" infidel out of you.

L.W.

More, more, more, more.....

Great story! I've been around plenty of Muslims in Africa and you paint the picture well.

Awesome...

Now let's get right into elephant hunting. I've hunted trophy tusked elephant before. Exciting, thrilling, anxiety producing, all terms that don't scratch the surface of the experience. There is no way to be casual about it.

There is no turret dialing, Chris Kyle/ Carlo Hathcock 1/2 mile sniping with elephant. There is no diesel stalking or shooting from the back of a vehicle. There is no building a hide and waiting over bait. You gotta earn your elephant using patience and shoe leather.

You must find them and stalk them. They move while casually feeding faster than you can trot. They have an incredible sense of smell, and acute hearing. Fortunately, they are myopic. Judging the ever shifting wind is vital to success of the hunt, and keeping your own carcass in tact.

Since bringing the ivory back to the US is such a hassle with CITIES and USFW regulations as well as international regulations, I get the bright idea to hunt tuskless elephant. It offers the full experience, costs are less, no import issues, and it helps will herd management.

Hunting tusked can be straight forward. Find a small bachelor group of 3-4, track them until midday when they stand in the shade for a siesta, sneak up and pop them. Hopefully, you brain the target and the others bugger off.

I get with Johnny DuPlooy and set it up, and he tells me "I'll do it for you, but this will be my last tuskless hunt...EVER!

What the hell? "Tuskless hunts get hairy. They are almost always in herds, more eyes and ears, the herds are full of females with young, they are all bitchy and cheeky. They are highly protective, defensive, and have no inhibitions about charging."

"Oh!". Hadn't considered all that.

Finding elephant isn't necessarily difficult. Drive along the river to find where they've watered, get out, start walking.

Finding a tuskless is not so simple. We picked over herd after herd, everything had ivory. You can follow a herd of 30-40 for an hour before you can get a good look at all the adults as they move through the bush. The wind must be right, you can't just walk around willy-nilly because you can find yourself outflanked when the wind shifts. When that happens, the SHTF, the trumpeting starts the herd runs around, they round up the babies, and the big females come out front to form an impressive defense, ready to stomp intruders. When you are close enough to throw a stone at them, you realize that the .450 #2 double in your hands is not enough if things go sideways.

Toward the end of the hunt, we find a herd of about 50 with a suitable target. Of course, the one we want is on the far side. The herd is spread out over 100 yards in groups of 5 and 10s feeding, snorting, branch breaking, stomachs grumbling.

In attempt to stay down wind, stay with or ahead of the target, and to work our way into a shooting position becomes a chess game. Actually, it's more like a WW II submarine stalking a Japanese task force trying to get in position to shoot at the carrier. You have to work inside the destroyer screen, must stay ahead of the carrier, get close enough for a sure kill, and remain undetected.

Once the planets aligned, Johnny, Alpha the tracker and I moved down a slick slope to a narrow stream not 40 yards from the elephants. Mud is slick and Johnny slips and falls on his butt on this side of stream. We all stood bug eyed wondering if the elephants heard or witnessed this comedy, but thankfully johnny's butt is padded and the herd never noticed.

Regaining his indignity, we reworked our position to within 40 yards of our target. Since our target was moving, he insisted on a heart shot. We had talked this over before hand. Brain shot if the elephant was standing and we had a clear side on, heart if it's walking.

I raised the big double, and as it stretched out the front leg I slammed a 500 grain Woodleigh solid right in that crease and the elephant took it hard, almost falling to one knee. It spun to face me, and I cut loose with the other barrel in the chest. The herd turned tail and thundered up and over the hill, mine at the rear. No parting shot was available as it disappeared over the hill.

Handshakes and back slaps all around, knowing we had a dead elephant over the hill. We waited 30 minutes for the game scout and rest of entourage to catch up, alert the recovery team to get the meat truck ready.

This area was hilly and rocky. Hard to believe but elephants are not simple to track over rocky ground. Their bean bag like feet don't dig into the earth like hooves do. A big herd makes picking out on individual to track impossible.

Wasn't unusual not to find blood from a heart shot. The thick skin covers up a .450 hole easily. We go over the hill and....no elephant!

See the herd off in the distance, no wounded elephant. We scoured the area and no track can be found breaking off from the herd. We track the herd on foot until darkness stops us..no dead elephant. Everybody is perplexed. I'm despondent fearing I wounded one that is running around. How is that possible? We dunno.

Sleep on it. Set off next day break to spot where herd overnighted in the riverine brush, thick and noisy. All healthy elephants. Late morning, my Mohammedan friends drive up. Seems the saw vultures in the area in which I shot, investigated, and got chased off by a pride of lions feasting on my dead elephant. It appears it did go over the hill, broke from the herd, ran down a ravine and keeled over dead.

We never got close enough to take hero pictures, the lions ran US off too! I'm not posting a photo of the tuskless hors de combat, as there just isn't any dignity left in them. I will post a pic of meat drunk lions.

Great story, Jeffand look at it this way; you made the lions happy...and fat!

Glossina morsitans

The hated tsetse fly! Those biting bastards don't just suck blood but take a chunk of flesh when they fly off.

Though in some areas they transmit parasites that cause trypanosomiasis and sleeping sickness in humans, they also infect domestic livestock keeping ranching out of game areas infested with the fly.

They bite like horse flies and slapping them does not smush them. You must crush them or else they will fly off with your blood and your integument.

A couple of things that work for me. Long shelves, long pants, both treated with permethrin, Skin So Soft with Picaridin on exposed skin. I had only one significant bite in 2weeks in tsetse country.
Another trick new to me is a smudge pot burning dry elephant dung on a pole on the rear of the vehicle really keeps the numbers down. Tsetse follow movement and will fly along biting the crap out of everybody on the vehicle.

Ugh - Can't imagine how bad the tsetses were back before chemical warfare.

hatari, That is a beautiful table too!

I love that old colonial teak and mahogany stuff. Our kitchen table is one of those made with old teak railroad sleepers

Great stuff, Hat.

Congratulations…….you’re living the fantasy that many of us dream of! Thanks for sharing! memtb

Great hunt, what happens to the elephant meat if recovered? Imagine the property owners would not want it with no halal ceremony.

Fantastic adventure Jeff, and great pics. That first pic with the tribe of turbans is awesome! Congrats on a tremendous experience.

Karamojo Bell wrote about going into fly country and adhering to a diet the natives in his posse prepared. I don't recall exactly but it was mostly millet with little or no meat. Thanks for sharing your adventure Hatari.

Well done you. I enjoyed reading about both of your encounters. The one with the Muslim men is priceless. The elephant encounter is great as well.

Thanks for sharing.

Recovery truck shows up and they hoist the meat on the flatbed.

Local chief decides how it gets distributed

I'm sitting in Frankfurt at the moment, waiting on a flight to Denver, coming from a drought relief elephant hunt in Namibia. We got two.

While maybe not as exciting as Jeff's post, I learned a great deal about bullet placement, bullet performance, and what it takes to drop one. Shooting an elephant from 20-25 feet is interesting.

The biggest excitement came after the second elephant was down when a shot rang out, closely followed by another. While we were looking at the downed elephant, the game ranger, armed with a Russian AK47, and the tracker noticed a second cow coming in from behind. It would have been handy had either of them shouted a bit beforehand, but they got our attention nonetheless. Fortunately, his shots turned the cow.

Anyway, I suppose there is a story or two that can be told in their own post.

Utterly fantastic! Safe travels home, please post your account👍

How was flying though Frankfurt?

Jeff, will do. Still in the air, headed home. I'll post the adventure in due time.

David

Frankfurt is for the most part, painless. Long security lines are the biggest issue.

I used Steve, with Travel With Guns, since this was literally a last minute (booked 6 days in advance) deal. Having been to Africa last year, I wanted no part of South Africa, Johannesburg, in particular. Getting import/export permits is a pain in the ass for South Africa. Your milage may vary.

The only issue regarding travel (I haven't landed in Denver yet, and never have on an international firearms flight, so customs remains to be seen), is that Lufthansa charges $280 for each gun (I only took one and my son only took one) each way. For me, it is well worth the extra money to fly directly into Windhoek. That said, flying out of Windhoek is, or can be, a pain in the ass.

For example, we both have aluminum gun cases. We both cut the foam to fit the MTM plastic ammo boxes. We both flew from the states with ammo in with the guns, in the cases (he, from Charlotte, NC, me from Cody), all the way to Katima, in the Caprivi, and back to Windhoek.

However, leaving Windhoek is a different matter. They want the ammo separate from the gun, regardless of the fact that they came together from point A. Anyway, Tyler, unlike his dad, had the sense to simply tell them he had no ammo, which wasn't a lie seeing as he left his ammo with the PH. I, on the other hand, opened my big mouth.

Anyway, if you fly into Windhoek, separate your ammo and pack it into one of your checked bags on your way out. They will still want to weigh them separately to make sure you're not over the 2 or 5kg limit. I didn't learn a friggin thing from the same issue last year. Must be something about old dogs and new tricks I guess.

Air link South Africa requires ammo separate in a lockable case that they check! Crazy.

I was prepared with MTM plastic cases secured with a TSA cable lock. Hardly terrotist proof but satisfied the airline.

Jeff, I guess I'll see you Friday night, but did you fly through RSA on the way to Lusaka?

Yes
Atl-Jburg
over night
then to Lusaka

I place my ammo in an appropriately sized locked Pelican case. I have always been able to fly through Amsterdam, Johannesburg to East London and back to Johannesburg with the locked Pelican case in my large suitcase. When checking in at KLM in Johannesburg on the way home, I've always had to check my ammo box. I've been way more comfrotable with the Pelican case than if I had chosen the MTM Survival Box I had considered. The Pelican arrives home in Calgary undamaged.

It seems that when leaving Africa, the airlines leaving both Namibia and the RSA demand the ammo be checked separately.

if you use Henry with rifle permits or the Afton House or Africa Sky they will handle the permits and walk you through the SAPS office in 15 minutes easy as can be

Great story! Look forward to reading more.

Brings back memories of traveling the world as a corporate pilot for 38 years including 2 years my wife and I spent in Iran working for Bell Helicopter.

Wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Be safe,
RWP

That must be unnerving when he's facing east or west, Doc. That's a very rare condition.

Great story and a Like, BTW

Way cool! I’d like to hear the story about being held at gun point!

Astounding!! Very fine.

Great story, reading about the Muslims was crazy. Thanks for sharing with us.

Great story Hatari, thanksfor posting.

On the topic of flying with your rifle and ammo, I've always had my rifle in a non-TSA locked aluminum case and my ammo in a separate small TSA locked case in my checked bag.

On my first trip to Mozambique I only took one rifle, my .300 Wby, and I took 3 boxes of ammo, 60 rounds. Two of the ammo boxes were loaded with 168 gr Barnes TSX bullets for the big game I wanted to hunt, leopard and sable, and the other box was loaded with 150 gr FMJ bullets for any small animals that I may want to shoot. I had everything checked through from Denver to Maputu in Mozambique.

Going through customs in Maputu, they saw my 60 rounds of ammo and said that I was only allowed to have 40 cartridges for each gun. So a half hour delay for me to take 10 Barnes cartridges out of one box and replace them with 10 FMJ cartridges, and then have customs do the paperwork for me to store one box of 20 cartridges in their safe.

At the end of my hunt, I take the paperwork to customs to get my stored box of ammo. It takes the customs officers 10-15 minutes to understand their paperwork and they give my back my box of ammo. So I put it into my locked ammo box inside my checked bag, and I am allowed to leave the customs office, go outside and over to the airport departure door where I go inside and check all of my baggage for my flight home.

While I am waiting for boarding, they call my name over the loudspeaker telling me to go to baggage check-in. So I go to check-in where they took me in back where a very overweight police officer tells me that I have too many cartridges in my baggage waiting to be loaded on the plane to leave Mozambique. I show him the customs paperwork showing that they held the box of 20 cartridges while I was hunting, and that they had just given them back to me so I could take them home.

The overweight officer doesn't understand the customs paperwork, so he and a skinny police officer take me outside and over to the customs office. It took another 15 minutes for customs to explain to the fat police officer that it was OK for my to take all of my ammo back home.

And as my hunt went, I didn't see any small animals that I would have shot with the FMJ bullets, so I ended up bringing all 20 of them back home.