Namibia PG and touring Safari; Estreux Safaris

[Betterinthebush]

This report I’m filing is geared toward the first timer who has yet to even book their first safari. Please enjoy.

This safari was my wife and I’s 20th wedding anniversary gift to ourselves. Throughout our dating and marriage we had never taken a single vacation. Not one. We chose to go to Namibia because my wife’s church growing up had missionaries in country building several churches and ministering to communities in the remote bush. She was fascinated as a young girl when the missionaries would return and tell their stories and share pictures. So this was a way for her to come full circle and close an unfinished chapter in her heart and mind. So in many ways this was her safari more than mine. Neither of us were disappointed.

-Outfitter/PH: Anton Esterhuizen, Estreux Safaris

-Areas hunted/toured: Grootfontein, Etosha, Damaraland, Skeleton Coast, Swakupmund

-When and duration: July 1-16, 2025

-Type of hunt and target species: 1 X 1 plains game; kudu, caracal and whatever the bush provides

-Extra/special events and activities planned: private tour of Etosha, Damaraland, Skeleton Coast by Anton himself, surf fishing, half day tour through the Namib Desert with Living Desrt Tours.

-Method of take: rifle; InterArms Whitworth .375 H&H

The planning, anticipation and buildup to leaving was just as enjoyable as the safari itself. I knew beforehand that this was not going to be a one-off adventure. I had plans. But that can wait.

This is a picture of the first time I saw the sunrise over Africa or, as I like to think of it, the first time I saw something that was not my wife that actually made my heart skip a beat.

Getting there: United from Buffalo to Chicago to Frankfurt via Lufthansa to Windhoek via Discover

An enormous pile of luggage for two people. Keep in mind, we only had laundry service in hunting camp. The rest of the time was on us, so we over packed. I’m not going on a dream vacation with my wife just to spend time doing laundry. We took full advantage of luggage allowances without going over.

Anton was an excellent planner and pulled off every logistical request of ours effortlessly and with great pleasure. I built in a day of rest on the front end so we could have a chance to work off the jet lag. It was one of the smartest things I could have done. Anton had our hotel and dinner reservations made ahead of time. Our arrival was expected, the room and hotel was clean and orderly and after a wonderful meal at Joe’s Beerhause (practically right across the street) we collapsed in our bed and slept uninterrupted for 8 hours.

The sweetest most amazing oysters I’ve ever had anywhere in the world were in Namibia. We ordered them every meal they were served throughout the country.

July 2, day one of Safari:

Anton could not pick us up and transport us to Simondeum Camp, he dispatched a driver that dropped off the client before us to do that. David was pleasant and funny and we had a good time on the drive to meet Anton in Grootfontein. We met Anton and his wife, Wanda. Transferred our luggage, made for camp and got to know our hosts.

Other than birds and baboons, do you remember the first wild unfenced animal you saw in Africa? I do. I could never forget.

Simondeum Camp. Home for the next six days.

July 3, the hunt begins coming later…

 

[Doug3006]

Oysters at Joe’s…..brings back some fond memories.

 

[Betterinthebush]

July 3, first day of the hunt: after a very nice night of sleep, Bonnie and I woke at 6 and made our way to the common area for a breakfast of fruit, ham, tomato, cheese. Coffee was on the table and very welcome. This was the daily usual and (with the exception of no butter, but margarine, ugh..) the routine was kind of comforting along with eggs and bacon.

Around the table Anton went over the day’s plan and asked me, other than Kudu, which was to be concentrated on, if I was interested in Waterbuck. Not knowing that they would be on the menu I spat out “of course! Yes!” And we were off.

Rifle sight in found that Lufthansa delivered my rifle to me 8” left and low 3”. Thanks fellas. ‘Preciate that.

We mounted the bakkie, and I struggled to look more like a hunter than a child at an amusement park ride line. My smile was so big in anticipation of the unknown. After a few miles in the truck **thump-thump** on the lid of the bakkie gave me a mild start. It would for the remainder of the hunt be the best sound I would be waiting, daydreaming of, hoping never to grow tired of listening for our tracker Absolon’s signal to stop and what treasure of tracks he spotted in the kalahari sands.

After a short meeting between Anton and Absolon, we were off through the bush after Waterbuck headed, presumably, to a waterhole. Slowly picking our way through the thorns and thistles for about 3/4 mile, Absolon froze, with his right hand and forefinger made a deliberate pointing/twisting motion above and away from his head. Anton turned his head to me and voicelessly said KUDU! My heart pounded so hard I was sure Anton could hear the embarrassing sound. I felt myself flush like I just farted in church. Then, without thinking, training kicked in; I was breathing deeply through my nostrils deep into my belly expanding my diaphragm and exhaling out my mouth. For reps later I felt my heart rate drop nicely.

“This is a good bull” Anton said. “Does he have ivory tips?” I asked. “Yes”

Up went the viper flex. I settled in handsomely, let the crosshairs of my Swaro come to rest on one single hair on the point of his left quartering toward front shoulder. I’ll never forget him lifting his head and looking straight into my soul as I squeezed the trigger to set loose 300gr. of copper into him. He buckled, got up, took off so fast, by the time I cycled the bolt he was long gone. I looked at Anton and Absolon in wonder and disbelief. That animal should have gone down and stayed there. Anton and Absolon were looking right back at me with huge smiles. A big slap on the back let me know everything was A-OK. Absolon took point for 80 yards, stopped and pointed. There he was. Everything happened so fast. Day one. Hour 3. Just like that. A lifetime of dreams right there.

Part 2 of first day’s hunt coming in just a bit…

 

[Betterinthebush]

After cleaning and caping chores were done and we found my bullet (I never fail to be impressed with Barnes TSX’s) it was time for lunch and a nap.

During lunch Anton looked at Bonnie and said, “you know, this has been a super day already. What say we take the evening to watch Africa TV and give you a chance to take some pictures?” Anton did everything to make my wife feel a part of everything. He was very sweet to think of her. “Let’s all go to a blind over a waterhole, relax and enjoy the afternoon with no expectations.” “Thank you! Yes!” Was her reply.

Up in the blind we saw and photographed warthogs, springbok, 8 kudu bull, mongoose. It was magical. In the last hour of light, and no real intention to “hunt”, five waterbuck cows and a single calf came into the water from behind us down from the hills to the south. At nearly the same time I spotted a black hulk to the west. I’ve never seen a waterbuck in my life, but bringing the binoculars to my eyes confirmed I was looking at something special. “Holy shit he’s big” anton could not get a look at him without exposing himself outside the blind due to a huge tree limb blocking his view. When the bull got to the water, Anton took a fast look, turned to me and whispered “make sure nothing is behind him.” There wasn’t even a question from any of us what was going to happen next. Quartering away from me to his right into the setting sun at 225yds. I settled the crosshairs behind his shoulder in his ribs. For the second time in one day the Whitworth .375 spoke smartly and I heard the unmistakable dull splash of a good hit. Down he went, I cycled the bolt, before I could reaquire he was gone. A big smile, another big slap on the back and a kiss from my wife reassured me that, once again, all was well. But the biggest compliment was paid to me by Absolon after he tracked it for about 200yds. He walked up to it whistled, looked at me and Anton, smiled and made two short approving grunts over the bull. Anton righted the bull, looked up at me holding the big bull’s horns and said “oh,Jim, you don’t know what you’ve got here”

Skinning and caping chores revealed another well placed shot through the lungs and heart with the bullet exiting at the point where the neck meets the shoulder on the opposite side.

Emotionally drained. We went in for a wonderful meal. Enjoyed the fire and I reflected on a day that could never be topped. Or could it..?

 

[MontanaPat]

Wow an exciting Day 1, congrats. Look forward to more

 

[Betterinthebush]

July 4, Independence Day, second day of the hunt: After breakfast it was back in the bakkie.
**thump-thump**

Impala. Lots of them. Now, and this is just me, but for all the elegant sexiness of the Kudu and the regal masculinity of the Waterbuck, for my money, nothing says “Africa” quite like the sharp eyed-ever vigilante Impala. I could chase them from dawn to dusk and never bore of it. And, that is precisely what we set out to do. Except our efforts were dashed by two creatures that made it a point to conspire against our best efforts. Raise your hand if you know what this little son-of-a-bitch is;

The gray lourie, also known as the African go-away bird, is the biggest little tattletale rat bastard ever. Chipmunks in the whitetail woods would stand in awe of and applaud this animal’s ability to foul up an otherwise flawless stalk. All day, as soon as we were picking out the boss ram, “g-way!” would be heard above us in the most aggravating fingernails-on-the-chalkboard not a bird call I’ve ever heard. I don’t believe they have a function in the ecosystem they occupy, save for f-ing up a good stalk. This call would immediately send the impala into flight. Oh!, but he’s got company! Same day, just as I was settling onto the sticks 1000 guinea fowl flushed and scattered the herd. I’m exaggerating of course, there probably wasn’t more than 700. We worked hard until 2pm. Gave up, went back to camp, ate and over lunch Anton said “I see no reason not to invite our good luck charm. Bonnie, would you like to come on the evening hunt tonight?” “Yes!” Was the reply.

3:30 back in the bakkie. We drove around the ranch for miles talking and enjoying the afternoon looking for game. **thump-thump** I love this guy, I thought. Oryx, three of them. Absolon, Anton, me, then Bonnie single file slowly through the bush. I was so proud of my wife, not being a hunter she gracefully negotiated every obstacle soundlessly and took pictures the entire way.

Absolon and Anton froze and Bonnie and i immediately followed suit. Anton put up his left forefinger and motioned me forward while tapping on that same shoulder with his right hand. Thinking he wanted me to come close to whisper I leaned over his shoulder to listen. “No! Put your rifle on my shoulder and shoot her!” “WTF? Shoot her? Shoot what?” I thought. I did as ordered and while in mid motion saw a wall of gray and black 25 yards away. Oryx. I settled over Anton’s shoulder dropped the crosshairs over what I hoped was her shoulder and snapped off my third shot of the hunt.

Yes. The first day could most definitely be eclipsed. My wife’s first stalk was in Africa and yielded a beautiful old Gemsbok cow.

Skinning and caping chores completed, it was time for supper and the fire.

 

[MontanaPat]

Yep those go away birds are a pain in the ass

 

[Betterinthebush]

July 5, third day of the hunt: you guessed it **thump-thump** Impala.

Stalking and threading our way through the thorns again. Now, a little aside.. the thorns in the kalahari are impressive in size. The big long ones though, they’re really no big deal. It’s the little ones that get you. Small little barbed fishhooks on whipcord branches that, despite your best efforts claw at, dig into and mercilessly rip and puncture cloth and flesh.

We made very good progress and found a very pretty mature ram and sealed the deal (relative to the prior day) swiftly. The fourth shot of the hunt after an excellent stalk to 75yds. allowed for a nice long lazy morning, lunch and nap before the evening hunt.

“Bonnie, would you like to..” before he could finish he was cut off “Yes! You know the answer is yes!” Anton smiled with satisfaction.

Anton took us for the evening to a waterhole where he had captured on trailcam and had actually seen a caracal infrequently. I was excited! But, as frequently happens, Africa had a different plan. We had barely settled into the blind when the local circus showed up in the form of an impressive herd of Blue Wildebeest. I noticed Bonnie while she was taking pictures smiling so big. She was radiant. I went back to glassing them. I’ve never seen one before, but there was one “Anton, looking from right to left..starting with the last one count to the fourth one. That looks like a very respectable bull. No?” (Whistling!) “yes, that is a very nice bull. Do you want to take him?” I looked at my wife, she looked at me “Jim, you’re hunting in Africa. Take that bull.” “Yes, ma’am”

I gently picked up the rifle and.., they promptly left in a rush. Then came back jumping, bucking, kicking, circling and acting like clowns in the center ring. I found the big bull and never took my concentration from him only to lose him and require. Wash, rinse, repeat for an eternity. I was smiling and laughing so hard at this shit-show I had to stifle a guffaw. Never a clean shot at him. Finally, I heard myself say “shooting”. For the fifth time I asked and the old Whitworth answered.

 

[Betterinthebush]

July 6,7,8, last three days of the hunt: Anton the prior evening asked if he could be excused from the afternoon. Something I didn’t know, his big truck suffered a big breakdown and he needed to go to Grootfontein a hundred miles that way to take delivery of a new truck he ordered. I was at first a little put off by this. But, my wife, said “I’d like a giraffe on my wall” Anton flushed, but he was smart enough to read between the lines. So, we went hunting giraffes for the next 2-1/4 days. We were not successful. We saw cows and calves but no bull. In the meantime we had big elephant drama, for a short period we thought we were lined up for a PAC opportunity on a nasty old bull, but we were gone before the PAC permit was issued. On July 8, last day of the hunt, I took one more very nice impala ram.

I was impressed by the efficiency and sanitation of the butcher shop and cooler. It was satisfying to single handedly nearly half fill Anton’s cooler.

Photo and touring safari summary tomorrow…