Adrian
AH fanatic
Location: Farm Heusis, Khomas hochland, Namibia.
Outfitter: Khomas Hochland Hunting Safaris.
PH: Isak !!Hueb (Adab).
Tracker/Driver: Adab, Isaak Songo, Marius Gariseb.
Owners: The Hennings Family.
Dates: Arrival 1st October 2017 - departure 10th October 2017.
Rifle: Mauser M12, wooden stock in 30-06 using Norma Oryx 180gr bullets.
Sights: Meopta Meostar R1 4-12X40.
Shotgun: Beretta 686S 12 bore with 32gram Express cartridges in size 6.
For the third time in as many years I found myself heading back to Namibia and to Khomas Highland Hunting Safaris. Philip had kindly found a slot to allow me to hunt on Farm Heusis again.
I had no way of knowing I would be fortunate enough to be returning on such a regular basis but I worked for it. Every hour God sent me I worked for my hunting trip, most of my days off have been used to work overtime to enable me a ten day break under the African sun.
Getting up at 03:30 to leave home at 04:00, drive for an hour and forty five minutes, do a twelve hour shift and then return home or staying away from home to do the same the next day before going home and working my regular job was not something I enjoyed - but I knew that at some point in October I would be sat on a hill top in Namibia and know it was all worth it.
I flew at 21:00 on the 30th September from London Heathrow on African Airways to Johannesburg, a couple of hours there and then my connecting flight to Windhoek where Philip had arranged to pick me up.
It's worth mentioning now that I flew with my rifle and shotgun and it could not have been easier.
I checked in online, arrived at the airport, declared to an airport employee I had a firearm, they opened up a check in desk just for me and they checked it all through to Windhoek.
There was no charge for handling a firearm and no excess baggage charge. I was not required to tell the airline in advance.
A piece of paper and a check by the border control officials and I was good to go.
The journey passed by as was to be expected,no drama and no delays.
Until I got to Namibia.
It was faster to fly from Johannesburg than the time it took from stepping onto the tarmac to shaking Philip's hand on the other side of immigration.
It took two hours just to get my passport stamped in a crowded hall, packed with three plane loads of visitors.
My gun case and bullets were waiting for me and within ten minutes the formalities were done. Someone had found my suitcase and brought it to me while I was in the police office which saved me a bit of worry wondering where my case might be after two hours on a conveyor belt.
I appreciated the help and gave the guy who helped me a few rand as a thank you.
I met Philip on the other side and that airport was crammed. Philip said he had never seen it so busy.
A quick visit to duty free for some cigarettes and we were off to the farm, picking up Marius and a few more workers along the way at a crossroads just outside Windhoek.
Arriving at the farm I was shown to my very comfortable and adequate room which was a single chalet containing two single beds, a wardrobe with integral drawers, a small dresser, a fridge and an en suite shower and toilet and wash basins.
Philip had suggested we wait until morning to check and zero my rifle which suited me fine.
I got changed and made my way to the covered outside dining area at the end of the house. It was good to be back and see familiar faces, as well as a few new ones.
Dinner was with the family that evening, a braai with zebra steaks and home made smoked sausage courtesy of Philip's brother Jan and some pressed, spiced minced meat on sticks made by Philip's mum.
It was all very good food and I slept well that night.
Philip had suggested we meet at 07:00 for breakfast and I didn't take much waking up, it was good to be in Namibia again and go outside and breathe in the cool, clean air. I wandered over to the kitchen where coffee and juice were waiting. Emma the cook in the mornings and at lunch times fried some eggs for us which were very welcome.
Collecting my rifle once breakfast was done, we headed to the range to zero it. The range is just outside the farm gates so not far to go.
Before I mounted my sights, I wanted to try a couple of open sight shots, never having used them before. I was happy to see they hit the target within two inches of each other, a little high and to the left. Good enough should they be needed.
With the sights on my rifle it was good to see they were pretty much where I expected them to be, a slight adjustment to shoot slightly high at 100m and a final shot to confirm and we were good to go.
I went back to my room, gathered everything I would need for the morning, bullets, binoculars, camera, etc and went back the yard where Marius had brought the hunting car round. Marius drove me back in 2015 and for a day last year and he is a nice guy.
A new face came to greet me while I put my bag in the back of the car, it was Adab who would be my PH for the duration of my hunt. I instantly liked him and looked forward to many hours following in his footprints.
Philip was accompanying us on that first morning along with Shaka, the Bavarian Mountain hound.
Loaded up we hit the track and headed out into the bush. The plan for that morning was to drive out and then walk and stalk through the low lying and relatively level plains, interspersed with dry river beds and gullies.
I didn't really care, I was just happy to be back in the bush and going hunting.
We departed the truck and set out on foot.
I followed in Adab's footsteps, treading where he trod as much as possible and I would become very familiar with the heels of his rubber and canvas boots which are peculiar to Africa.
There were many vultures in the trees along our route, I love the sight of these birds, somehow they scream wild Africa as they sit there with their foreboding presence and hunched appearance.
We walked head into the wind and saw Steenbok darting away in the bushes as well as much bird life.
The going was easy but my breathing was fast as I always find, my lungs unused to the thin clean air, more used to breathing the warm damp fug of the UK but I would acclimatize.
After a while we came across a small group of Black Wildebeest. Initially we saw two but with careful manoeuvring we came to a position where we could see more animals about 250m ahead of us in the shade of some acacia trees. There were a couple of older bulls and some younger and smaller beasts.
Creeping forward carefully we narrowed the gap and Adab and I glassed over the small herd. He selected the correct animal and while the sticks were set up kept me informed as to where it was. I was unsighted because I was stood close behind him to minimise any movement that might be seen.
Eventually I came forward and readied my rifle on the sticks.
At this point I need to say that the Black Wildebeest had been a bit of a brain worm for me.
The first year I hunted with Philip we stalked through similar terrain and we came upon two bulls which he offered me to shoot. Being my first safari and naive, I declined. A decision I regretted ever since.
Last year I wanted to hunt one and on my last day we stalked into a herd, an older bull was chosen and I shot it.
It ran with the herd but everyone was relaxed about the shot because the reaction of the animal to the hit was good so we gave it a while to allow it to drop before going to find it.
We followed a good blood trail that morning, plenty of sign and we were sure it would be down.
No such luck.
All day we searched for that Wildebeest, hours and hours and many kilometres of walking and even again the following day before I left for home. It was never found and it had bugged me to this day.
So, thirteen months later I was in a position to finally put my Black Wildebeest brain worm to bed.
I was on the sticks, maybe about 160m distant from my target, slightly uphill and waiting for the shot to present itself.
My target animal seemed to be aware of us and he stood looking, facing towards us slightly quartering.
Adab was giving me instructions and telling me where to place the shot.
I had a good image through the sights and my bullet was to find it's way between the shoulder and neck and travel on downwards into the lungs.
I was confident. My rifle had just been zeroed and I was steady so I squeezed the shot off.
There was a big puff of dust behind the Wildebeest and I immediately thought this was a good sign that the bullet had passed through.
To my amazement the bull turned and ran. I reloaded quickly and was ready for a second shot but they were gone over the horizon.
I was still trying to come to terms with what happened. I couldn't believe I wasn't walking up to my first Black Wildebeest.
Plain and simple I had missed. I couldn't get my head around it. Everything was perfect. My Black Wildebeest hoodoo continued......
While my mind was processing all this I realised that I had followed Adab in the direction of the departed animals and we were stalking again.
Shortly after, in the middle distance a group of Blue Wildebeest were meandering across a flat area and to their right as we looked were the Black Wildebeest that I had disturbed a while earlier.
We started after them again.
The terrain was undulating low ridges and gullies so each time we crested one we looked and on the top of one such ridge we saw the Black Wildebeest walking left to right so a direction was made to intercept them.
For some reason the Blues started running away from us even though I'm certain we were not the cause of their flight.
I assumed the herd of Blacks had spooked and they had all run off.
Just then, Philip who was a little way off of Adab and myself gave a low whistle and unbelievably the group of Black Wildebeest were heading back in our direction over the top of the ridge we were ascending and about 80m away.
Adab had the sticks up and my rifle nestled comfortably in the rubberized V on the top.
"Wait" he whispered in my ear as we tracked the single file of animals. "The last one" came another hissed instruction.
The animals galloped down our slope and started up the one we had just come down and the last animal stopped suddenly and turned it's head towards us.
I remember the shot and through the scope I saw, as if in slow motion, the bull sit down on it's haunches and roll over on it's side before the sound of the hit came to my ears.
Staying on the sticks I reloaded and covered it, fully expecting it to get up and run off but to my relief, I could see the lung blood bubbling from the exit wound and I knew I finally had my first Black Wildebeest.
Adab turned to me and very seriously said: "Adriano, I seenk you have shot a very nice Black Wildebeest".
I shook his hand gratefully and mumbled something which was gratitude but I hope he understood me.
Philip came over and we made our way to the fallen animal and it gave a few last defiant kicks as it's nerves ceased to work but it was stone dead.
There was a lot of relief on my part after my earlier miss and handshakes all round while Philip broke a sprig of acacia, dipped it in the blood of the bull and handed it to Adab who in turn removed his hat and presented the foliage to me with another handshake and a "Waidmannsheil". "Waidmannsdank" I responded and placed the twig in the velcro fastening of my cap.
We moved the bull for photographs and for the first time could see just how nice the bull was. An old boy with fully hard bosses and an impressive length and sweep to his horns. I was extremely glad to have taken this fine old animal and knew his genes would have been passed on over many previous years.
Philip called up Marius on the radio and went to meet him while I was still reliving the hunt. I idly pondered the fact my bullet had struck higher than I thought it might compared to where I aimed but put it down to the fact I might have wobbled slightly on the shot as I had swivelled quite a way on the sticks tracking the running bull.
Soon after Marius and the truck came into view and it was all hands needed to load the Wildebeest onto the back.
Back at the farm I helped unload and hung around with the guys while they commenced the skinning and butchering.
I like hanging out with them while they go about their business. Not only do I learn from watching but I like to help out if I can. I wouldn't dream of doing the skinning because those guys have got it down to an art but if I can hold a leg here or pull skin there I'm glad to do it. I shot it so I like them to know I'm not going to leave them to it. It was a team effort and I'll stick around until they've finished and help when and if I'm able.
Once done and the meat hung in the cooler it was time for lunch. It was a fine spaghetti bolognese made with zebra mince and was amazing. I wondered how I would manage back in the UK without a fix of fresh zebra.
It was hot after lunch so everyone retires for a siesta for a few hours.
I was still buzzing so sat out front of my chalet and drank a coke and smoked a cigarette before going in for an hour of sleep.
More to follow.......
Outfitter: Khomas Hochland Hunting Safaris.
PH: Isak !!Hueb (Adab).
Tracker/Driver: Adab, Isaak Songo, Marius Gariseb.
Owners: The Hennings Family.
Dates: Arrival 1st October 2017 - departure 10th October 2017.
Rifle: Mauser M12, wooden stock in 30-06 using Norma Oryx 180gr bullets.
Sights: Meopta Meostar R1 4-12X40.
Shotgun: Beretta 686S 12 bore with 32gram Express cartridges in size 6.
For the third time in as many years I found myself heading back to Namibia and to Khomas Highland Hunting Safaris. Philip had kindly found a slot to allow me to hunt on Farm Heusis again.
I had no way of knowing I would be fortunate enough to be returning on such a regular basis but I worked for it. Every hour God sent me I worked for my hunting trip, most of my days off have been used to work overtime to enable me a ten day break under the African sun.
Getting up at 03:30 to leave home at 04:00, drive for an hour and forty five minutes, do a twelve hour shift and then return home or staying away from home to do the same the next day before going home and working my regular job was not something I enjoyed - but I knew that at some point in October I would be sat on a hill top in Namibia and know it was all worth it.
I flew at 21:00 on the 30th September from London Heathrow on African Airways to Johannesburg, a couple of hours there and then my connecting flight to Windhoek where Philip had arranged to pick me up.
It's worth mentioning now that I flew with my rifle and shotgun and it could not have been easier.
I checked in online, arrived at the airport, declared to an airport employee I had a firearm, they opened up a check in desk just for me and they checked it all through to Windhoek.
There was no charge for handling a firearm and no excess baggage charge. I was not required to tell the airline in advance.
A piece of paper and a check by the border control officials and I was good to go.
The journey passed by as was to be expected,no drama and no delays.
Until I got to Namibia.
It was faster to fly from Johannesburg than the time it took from stepping onto the tarmac to shaking Philip's hand on the other side of immigration.
It took two hours just to get my passport stamped in a crowded hall, packed with three plane loads of visitors.
My gun case and bullets were waiting for me and within ten minutes the formalities were done. Someone had found my suitcase and brought it to me while I was in the police office which saved me a bit of worry wondering where my case might be after two hours on a conveyor belt.
I appreciated the help and gave the guy who helped me a few rand as a thank you.
I met Philip on the other side and that airport was crammed. Philip said he had never seen it so busy.
A quick visit to duty free for some cigarettes and we were off to the farm, picking up Marius and a few more workers along the way at a crossroads just outside Windhoek.
Arriving at the farm I was shown to my very comfortable and adequate room which was a single chalet containing two single beds, a wardrobe with integral drawers, a small dresser, a fridge and an en suite shower and toilet and wash basins.
Philip had suggested we wait until morning to check and zero my rifle which suited me fine.
I got changed and made my way to the covered outside dining area at the end of the house. It was good to be back and see familiar faces, as well as a few new ones.
Dinner was with the family that evening, a braai with zebra steaks and home made smoked sausage courtesy of Philip's brother Jan and some pressed, spiced minced meat on sticks made by Philip's mum.
It was all very good food and I slept well that night.
Philip had suggested we meet at 07:00 for breakfast and I didn't take much waking up, it was good to be in Namibia again and go outside and breathe in the cool, clean air. I wandered over to the kitchen where coffee and juice were waiting. Emma the cook in the mornings and at lunch times fried some eggs for us which were very welcome.
Collecting my rifle once breakfast was done, we headed to the range to zero it. The range is just outside the farm gates so not far to go.
Before I mounted my sights, I wanted to try a couple of open sight shots, never having used them before. I was happy to see they hit the target within two inches of each other, a little high and to the left. Good enough should they be needed.
With the sights on my rifle it was good to see they were pretty much where I expected them to be, a slight adjustment to shoot slightly high at 100m and a final shot to confirm and we were good to go.
I went back to my room, gathered everything I would need for the morning, bullets, binoculars, camera, etc and went back the yard where Marius had brought the hunting car round. Marius drove me back in 2015 and for a day last year and he is a nice guy.
A new face came to greet me while I put my bag in the back of the car, it was Adab who would be my PH for the duration of my hunt. I instantly liked him and looked forward to many hours following in his footprints.
Philip was accompanying us on that first morning along with Shaka, the Bavarian Mountain hound.
Loaded up we hit the track and headed out into the bush. The plan for that morning was to drive out and then walk and stalk through the low lying and relatively level plains, interspersed with dry river beds and gullies.
I didn't really care, I was just happy to be back in the bush and going hunting.
We departed the truck and set out on foot.
I followed in Adab's footsteps, treading where he trod as much as possible and I would become very familiar with the heels of his rubber and canvas boots which are peculiar to Africa.
There were many vultures in the trees along our route, I love the sight of these birds, somehow they scream wild Africa as they sit there with their foreboding presence and hunched appearance.
We walked head into the wind and saw Steenbok darting away in the bushes as well as much bird life.
The going was easy but my breathing was fast as I always find, my lungs unused to the thin clean air, more used to breathing the warm damp fug of the UK but I would acclimatize.
After a while we came across a small group of Black Wildebeest. Initially we saw two but with careful manoeuvring we came to a position where we could see more animals about 250m ahead of us in the shade of some acacia trees. There were a couple of older bulls and some younger and smaller beasts.
Creeping forward carefully we narrowed the gap and Adab and I glassed over the small herd. He selected the correct animal and while the sticks were set up kept me informed as to where it was. I was unsighted because I was stood close behind him to minimise any movement that might be seen.
Eventually I came forward and readied my rifle on the sticks.
At this point I need to say that the Black Wildebeest had been a bit of a brain worm for me.
The first year I hunted with Philip we stalked through similar terrain and we came upon two bulls which he offered me to shoot. Being my first safari and naive, I declined. A decision I regretted ever since.
Last year I wanted to hunt one and on my last day we stalked into a herd, an older bull was chosen and I shot it.
It ran with the herd but everyone was relaxed about the shot because the reaction of the animal to the hit was good so we gave it a while to allow it to drop before going to find it.
We followed a good blood trail that morning, plenty of sign and we were sure it would be down.
No such luck.
All day we searched for that Wildebeest, hours and hours and many kilometres of walking and even again the following day before I left for home. It was never found and it had bugged me to this day.
So, thirteen months later I was in a position to finally put my Black Wildebeest brain worm to bed.
I was on the sticks, maybe about 160m distant from my target, slightly uphill and waiting for the shot to present itself.
My target animal seemed to be aware of us and he stood looking, facing towards us slightly quartering.
Adab was giving me instructions and telling me where to place the shot.
I had a good image through the sights and my bullet was to find it's way between the shoulder and neck and travel on downwards into the lungs.
I was confident. My rifle had just been zeroed and I was steady so I squeezed the shot off.
There was a big puff of dust behind the Wildebeest and I immediately thought this was a good sign that the bullet had passed through.
To my amazement the bull turned and ran. I reloaded quickly and was ready for a second shot but they were gone over the horizon.
I was still trying to come to terms with what happened. I couldn't believe I wasn't walking up to my first Black Wildebeest.
Plain and simple I had missed. I couldn't get my head around it. Everything was perfect. My Black Wildebeest hoodoo continued......
While my mind was processing all this I realised that I had followed Adab in the direction of the departed animals and we were stalking again.
Shortly after, in the middle distance a group of Blue Wildebeest were meandering across a flat area and to their right as we looked were the Black Wildebeest that I had disturbed a while earlier.
We started after them again.
The terrain was undulating low ridges and gullies so each time we crested one we looked and on the top of one such ridge we saw the Black Wildebeest walking left to right so a direction was made to intercept them.
For some reason the Blues started running away from us even though I'm certain we were not the cause of their flight.
I assumed the herd of Blacks had spooked and they had all run off.
Just then, Philip who was a little way off of Adab and myself gave a low whistle and unbelievably the group of Black Wildebeest were heading back in our direction over the top of the ridge we were ascending and about 80m away.
Adab had the sticks up and my rifle nestled comfortably in the rubberized V on the top.
"Wait" he whispered in my ear as we tracked the single file of animals. "The last one" came another hissed instruction.
The animals galloped down our slope and started up the one we had just come down and the last animal stopped suddenly and turned it's head towards us.
I remember the shot and through the scope I saw, as if in slow motion, the bull sit down on it's haunches and roll over on it's side before the sound of the hit came to my ears.
Staying on the sticks I reloaded and covered it, fully expecting it to get up and run off but to my relief, I could see the lung blood bubbling from the exit wound and I knew I finally had my first Black Wildebeest.
Adab turned to me and very seriously said: "Adriano, I seenk you have shot a very nice Black Wildebeest".
I shook his hand gratefully and mumbled something which was gratitude but I hope he understood me.
Philip came over and we made our way to the fallen animal and it gave a few last defiant kicks as it's nerves ceased to work but it was stone dead.
There was a lot of relief on my part after my earlier miss and handshakes all round while Philip broke a sprig of acacia, dipped it in the blood of the bull and handed it to Adab who in turn removed his hat and presented the foliage to me with another handshake and a "Waidmannsheil". "Waidmannsdank" I responded and placed the twig in the velcro fastening of my cap.
We moved the bull for photographs and for the first time could see just how nice the bull was. An old boy with fully hard bosses and an impressive length and sweep to his horns. I was extremely glad to have taken this fine old animal and knew his genes would have been passed on over many previous years.
Philip called up Marius on the radio and went to meet him while I was still reliving the hunt. I idly pondered the fact my bullet had struck higher than I thought it might compared to where I aimed but put it down to the fact I might have wobbled slightly on the shot as I had swivelled quite a way on the sticks tracking the running bull.
Soon after Marius and the truck came into view and it was all hands needed to load the Wildebeest onto the back.
Back at the farm I helped unload and hung around with the guys while they commenced the skinning and butchering.
I like hanging out with them while they go about their business. Not only do I learn from watching but I like to help out if I can. I wouldn't dream of doing the skinning because those guys have got it down to an art but if I can hold a leg here or pull skin there I'm glad to do it. I shot it so I like them to know I'm not going to leave them to it. It was a team effort and I'll stick around until they've finished and help when and if I'm able.
Once done and the meat hung in the cooler it was time for lunch. It was a fine spaghetti bolognese made with zebra mince and was amazing. I wondered how I would manage back in the UK without a fix of fresh zebra.
It was hot after lunch so everyone retires for a siesta for a few hours.
I was still buzzing so sat out front of my chalet and drank a coke and smoked a cigarette before going in for an hour of sleep.
More to follow.......
! Just kidding! I’m really enjoying this with every honest emotional detail!
