Beautifully Ordinary.

I came across an old photo the other day.

It was just a picture of a battered, ordinary looking Browning A5, with some very ordinary decoys, and an ordinary pair of ducks.

But the story of the gun itself and how I came to have it, and indeed the story of its first owner is not so ordinary.

My grandfather moved to Mainland New Zealand from the Chatham Island's following World War Two. "The Chatham's" was, and still is one of the most isolated locations in all of New Zealand, separated from the mainland by 700 kilometres of some of the roughest seas in the world - the "roaring forties". On his arrival from isolation, Laurie was naive to a lot of things. When given his first ice cream, not knowing what it was, he bit into it like a piece of fruit, and was so surprised, he dropped it!. This, if anything showed just how much there was to learn on the mainland. Having lived on an island where wild cattle, Fowl and Boar were in constant need for management or to be put in the oven, where hunting and gathering weren't just sport, but for survival, one thing he did not need to learn, was how to shoot.

On arrival to the mainland, he took up clay target shooting, both as a sport, but also to win useful prizes to support his family. He went on to compete in the 1954 New Zealand Down The Line, Single Rise, National Championship. In the shoot off to see who would compete in the final, with his last cartridge of the day, he won the shoot off, but his trusty browning A5 broke down. A young gun smith called Ian Ballinger, who was present, told my grand father, "Laurie, give that gun to me and it'll be right as rain for the final tomorrow" - or words to that effect.

Bright and early, my grand father turned up to shoot for the title, and all ready there waiting, A5 in hand, was Mr I. Ballinger. My grandfather won the title, and sold the A5 when the family fell on hard times, and there you think, the story ends.
While at University, and following in my family's hunting footsteps, I ended up working part time as a gun salesman for one of New Zealand's longest running gun shops - none other than Ballingers of Christchurch, founded by I. Ballinger. While there I ran into the original man whom my grandfather had sold the A5 to, also a friend of my fathers. He recognised my last name, and introduced himself. I asked him "what ever happened to that A5?"?

 A few owners and a lot of phone calls later, I tracked the new owner down. He said he couldn't sell me the gun...but he did give it to me. I was very proud grand son when I told Laurie, his old Browning was back in Lanauze hand's once more.

Not long after this, I carried that A5 into my grand fathers funeral and placed it on his coffin, when his time with us was at an end. Afterwards,  I took out the A5 for the 2008 Duck opening weekend, and created my own history with the famed gun, making me the 3rd Lanauze (there may have been more!), after my father and grandfather, to have hunted with this workhorse. I spent opening weekend hunting with my brother in law - Rob, in our Maimai (hide) right next to my fathers on a family friends farm that we have shot for over two decades, I shot my first Duck and my first Goose on this farm. The fist day of the season was clear and calm - not perfect weather for open water mallards, but Rob and I had a good spread out, and called hard. We ended up with a good bag of Mallard and Paradise duck. Not a bad performance by Rob and I, and the over fifty year old Browning A5!

The following day was much better, with wind and rain, which made the Mallards trade more. We got a great mixed bag that second day, with 20 Mallard, some more Parries, and a brace of hard won Canada Goose.

It was eventually time to retire the old girl, so I took the A5, dads old cork decoys that I "touched up" and the V decoy spread he used so well.

This was the last pair of mallards it shot.

After serving three generations of my family, along with others in it's travels, it has been retired from service.

My father and grandfather are both shooting the big duck pond in the sky now, but when it's my time, I'll try to slip the A5 in past security and join them.

Beautifully Ordinary

The Reliable Duck - the Paradise Shelduck

Coming from New Zealand, I have had a lot of requests for information on our Native Paradise Shelduck, and with their unique and beautiful colouring, they are often a prized trophy by International hunters. Here is an article I penned for NZ Rod and Rifle Magazine, that should offer some insight to this wonderful bird, and how to hunt them in the amazing hunting paradise, that is New Zealand.

Please click HERE for the full article

Can you share your little piece of Paradise?

The reality is, that doing what I do is not cheap. After selling the house back home, I've financially committed to this cause of mine.

I simply do not have the money to both travel the world, and pay for hunting while I do it. So rather than put all my eggs in one basket, and flown to Canada, the USA or UK for 2 months of paid, guided hunting, instead, I'm bouncing around the globe, hoping to meet like minded people who might share an opportunity with me, so I can experience "real" hunting and fishing from other hunters perspective, not just those on organised guided hunts, from around the world.

 Back home, I take out dozens of new hunters every year, from all over the world. I enjoy seeing people get into the sport, and I hope others around the world have the same attitude.

I also hope to meet other hunters on my travels, who may want to visit the Paradise of New Zealand, so I can show them what opportunities are back in my home country.

As someone who is as happy behind the trigger as the camera, or even if its just to observe, any opportunities that are available, anywhere in the world, id love to hear from you!

Currently I'm in the UK, but I am heading to the USA and Canada in 2016!

Can you help share your little piece of Paradise?

Hot Barrels

Buck's and Duck's

After a cracking day on wild fowl the day before, today would see Pete taking me out for an attempt at my first Roe Buck.

We were up well before dawn, Pete with his ever present hot drink in hand, as we headed out to the mornings hunting grounds.

We parked up, and slowly worked our way to the edge of a small bunch of trees. We used them for cover, and then began glassing the next, tree line, where we imagined the Roe would feed their way out from, as the sun came up.

Sitting there, glassing for Roe Deer, hearing Pheasants calling, and plenty of Pink footed geese trading off the nearby wetlands - it did feel like paradise.

We had been waiting quite some time for the Roe to show themselves, when Pete had a miniature coughing fit. Out the corner of eyes, from behind us, we see three Roe deer that have taken offense to the noise, and they are steering straight at us. They knew something was up, and were off. It looked like a Doe and two yearlings, and one of them looked like a young buck, but we weren't sure, and it wasn't the big boy we were after. No shot was taken.

"took wrong gun"

Those ended up being the only Roe Deer we saw, but when the pinks started pouring into the stubble paddock we were in, Pete did make the comment that we had brought the wrong gun. I did tell him that as I had no guns in the UK, this was not my doing! My good fortune continued, as on the way out, we caught up with farmer Andrew. Within minutes of meeting me, he had contacted a friend of his who was loading on a grouse hunt, and wanted to know if I wanted to go help and observe? Would I?! I've never seen a grouse, let alone been apart of hunting them. Looks like Bailie is on her own for a little longer, with two days of grousing to do, starting tomorrow!
With a short and sharp crack at a mallard flight pond that evening that saw us bag a couple of mallards, it was time to get back on the train, fresh pheasant to cook up for my dinner packed beside me. The hospitality showed to me by Pete and his wife Jan, the generosity of Bob and Eric in sharing their hunting with me, and from Andrew, in going out of his way to not only let me try for a Roe on his place, but then in arranging for me to go on a grouse hunt, what can I say.

Tomorrow, I was going grouse hunting, and the fact that all id have was a camera to shoot with, was fine by me!

A lovely spot, waiting for the duck flights to come.

Flushing Pheasants in Cumbria

Having not picked up a firearm Since May, it marked the longest period in my life since aged five, that I had not been out hunting.

It was hard, and it was hurting!

Being based in the UK, where firearms laws and hunting opportunities are so different from home, I wondered if I would get out at all.

Luckily for me, I tracked down Pete. He had hunted in New Zealand a few years back, where I had the opportunity to meet him on a chance encounter. I knew he was a hunter, I knew he was in the UK, so I thought, why not flick him a message?

The response from Pete was fantastic, and when he offered to take me out when ever I came up north, I said "how about this weekend"? I've always made an effort to take what ever opportunities have fallen my way as quickly as I can.

So after catching an All Blacks Rugby World Cup Game, Bailie was on a train to visit friends in Scotland, and I was off hunting! It was like opening morning for me, I was so excited.

My first day hunting outside of New Zealand

Pete picked me up from the train station, and the first morning saw us heading out rough shooting pheasants, where we would be flushing them from cover with dogs - just like home. We were joined by Bob and Eric, and of course Pete's wonderful dogs - one of which, Brock, was out learning his trade on pheasants, just like me!.

I love my pheasant shooting back home but opportunities are scarce in my area. So scarce in fact, that I am only allowed one Cock Pheasant a day, over ONE weekend - that's TWO birds a year. As such, i'd never shot a "left and a right" of pheasant's, and the double was something I wanted.
We saw a good number of pheasant's through the day, and we even saw a partridge, and flushed two Roe deer - the first Roe i'd ever seen. Pete was first on the board with a nice Hen Pheasant, but to my absolute delight, I added to the bag next, shooting a flushing pair of cock Pheasants. To have achieved something on my hunting bucket list, like shooting a double of pheasants in England meant a lot to me, and it showed. It was plain for the lads to see, what being given this opportunity meant to me.

We finished up the rough shoot with a great mixed bag between us, where I managed a melanistic Hen to my brace of Cock birds, and two and a half brace of mallards that Eric and Bob brought down.

To top off the day, the retiring RAF Vulcan Bomber was doing its last flight around the UK, and it buzzed us as we were on the hunt. It screamed over head. Amazing!

So ended my first day hunting outside of New Zealand, and it was everything i'd hoped it to be, and I got to share it with some truly amazing people. But, tomorrow is another day, and we are chasing a Roe Buck!

Pete, Bob, Eric, Myself, and the hard working dogs - what a day!

Last pull of the trigger

My last hunt at the great lake wasn't my best, and it certainly wasn't my worst.

It was one of those days when the wind didn't blow and when it did, it came from an unexpected, and unpredicted direction. Our layout blinds kept getting flooded, and the birds were always just that little bit to far out.

In saying that, all was most certainly not lost. Carl, Paul, Rich and I did all we could to make the day work in our favour.

We called hard, changed what we could, and spent the hours that we needed to, to get a result. Not because it was my last shoot, but because that's just what we always do.

It was a true mixed bag day with us taking Mallard, Shoveler, Canada Goose and Shelduck. Managing to get a bag of almost all of New Zealand's waterfowl game birds on my last hunt with the boys - what could be better than that?

When will I get out hunting again? Who knows. But I am looking forward to the adventures, hunting or otherwise, that this trip will bring, and the experiences that Bailie and I will share, in our own search, for paradise.

Sunday School

The Sunday of opening weekend is ALWAYS a big day.

Not necessarily in numbers of birds shot, but combined with little sleep over the last few days, the shooting the day before, then the big clean up job, its always a long day, either way.

While we had an exceptional Saturday, that in itself went against the grain, based on the numbers of birds we had seen in the area, so we were a little unsure of what to expect.

All in all, we got a good flow of birds through in the first hours after dawn, adding to the great bag from the day before.

We pulled the pin early on Sunday to give us enough time to clean and process ALL of the birds. For a lot of the guys with us over the two days, they work on farms and simply don't have the luxury of hunting all the time, and this is their one day a year to fill the freezer.

Even though we shot a staggering amount birds, only a few of us limited out over the two days. It was a mammoth plucking and breasting session, but its all worth it in the end, and what an opening weekend to remember!

Paul, Terry, Richard and Myself with the combined bag, from all guns, over two days of hunting, along with the ducks, breasted and plucked out, ready for the freezer, or the sausage maker!

The Day of Days.

I cant tell you either how annoying my alarm was, or what the tone sounded like on opening morning, as, like all the years before it, I was awake well before it went off.

After checking my watch every five seconds, telling myself it would make time go faster, at the requiquired time, I stood up and flicked on the lounge light in Matts house. Just like everywhere, his house becomes our house over weekend. With three young children, and a VERY understanding wife, it really is a home away from home.

We had a quick brekefast, knowing that we had all the ofortts of home in the hides. We shoot the same place everyyear, so chairs, tables, bbqs and gas cookers are all ready down there waiting for us. I do a lot of hard yards hunting, wading through chest deep water for god knows how long, slogging it out through mud, and getting drenched laying in sodden fields...this hunt is not one of them, and its nice to start the year with a comfortable hunt, with some good mates to celebrate the new season.

6:45am, and the shooting can legally start. At 6:45am + one second, we were into it.

There had been about 100 birds living on what remained of the pond, so we new they would be coming in right on day light. We were on the board nice and early, and some good shooting durring the first hour. Terry took to it like a duck to water. It wasnt long before he was doing everything by instinct, and he had bagged himself a few birds durring the first part of the morning.

Where the day changed however, was that we then had excellent shooting over the next three hours.

All those birds that had left as the water dropped, came back. And they brought their friends. As other ponds and paddocks were shot up, these birds took to the skys. Whether ot was because they had lived here happily earlier in the year, or because we still had some water, if they saw the pond, or heard our callers, more often than not, they came in. We shoot with a large crew of guys on opening morning, and its over to me to do the majority of the calling, but also to ''call the shot''. It is a daunting task, knowing that of you call it to early or two late, birds may get through, or some guys might miss out on a perfect shot. Its task that I love!

All in all, we had one or two mishaps where the guns were a bit quick before the call, but generally it worked really well.

We had set the decoys for the Paradise shelducks up on the mud, and they were decoying really well up onto the mud flats, but try as we might, we knew it was going to be a wasted effort to get the mallards to commit off the water, which in some places was near on 70 meters from the hides, with the far bank well over 100 meters away.

So with this in mind, and after a few parries had started landing in the middle of the pond, escaping when we shot others that decoyed, I headed round to the far corner, out of the line of shooting from the hides, in the hopes of bagging some mallards and any parries that may have escaped the main set of hides.

It couldn't have worked out any better.

I ended up getting some great Mallard shooting, calling in singles, pairs and the odd bigger group. I do this every year, as while its nice shooting in a big group, I love it when I get to target mallards by my own. I know what I hit, and what I miss - which can be embarrassing as EVERYONE is watching! I had a few other guys join me throughout the morning, and that allowed us to take areal toll on the escaping parries, then once things quietened off, we headed back round to have lunch with the boys. We hunted all day Saturday, then settled in for a whiskey to celebrate the day, catch up with the other boys around the country, then turn in, ready to do it all again tomorrow!

them half of Sunday, with Paul joining us late in the piece.

The night before Christmas...

Its hard to explain what the Duck season means to me. In short, where others may describe something great in their lives as being ''like Christmas'', I would say something different.

Keeping all that in mind, it was very hard for me to accept that in just over a week, now that the season had finally arrived, I would be leaving New Zealand. With this mind, I packed up the 4WD with as much gear as I could fit in it, picked up Rich, and away we went!

Was I any less excited?

Of course not!

Packing the 4WD ready for a big opening weekend!

This years season was not shaping up well. A massive draught had drained a lot of not just my ponds, but everyone's. Our traditional opening morning pond, while having water, was very low. So low, that the hides were 50-60 meters from the waters edge.

There had been a good number of ducks around earlier in the year, but as the pond lost more water, it lost more ducks. Matt, who owns the farm the pond is on, and a good friend of mine, wasn't expecting great results, but as always, we would do our best.

Scott, another local landowner, friend and co-shooter, Matt and I had a brief chat beforehand. We all agreed that while the pond was low, it wasn't dry like so many other ponds in the region. We also knew that a good number of birds had called it home over the year to date. We decided that once the shooting started, and birds started being disturbed, maybe, just maybe, we would get lucky, and have some of our once resident birds, return home.

Duff with his make up on

Joining us for the hunt in our two hides, were Paul,  Bailie's dad - Terry (Duff), and Richard. Being that Bailie's old man had essentially been living with four woman for quite some time, and that I was about to head overseas, I thought it was time for Duff to join us on a lads weekend. He had some experience with firearms, but hadn't hunted duck before, so we all hoped he would enjoy the experience. I heard from Bailie that he was excited, but when she sent me a photo of him "practicing" to put on camo paint, I knew he would blend right in with us!


Rich on the other hand had hunted with me for years, since we first worked together while at university, for the New Zealand franchise store of Cabellas. Since then, no matter where he or I lived, we always found someway to meet up for a hunt or a fish.

A big crew of locals and other landowners made up the rest of the hides, many of whom had been shooting the area for years. Story's flowed the night before, some of which may have been true, before we tried to sleep, in preparation for what some people may say, was ''just like Christmas morning''.

Paradise of Duck's

Plans were made, the truck was loaded, and next stop was to pick up James from Christchurch Airport. We then headed to the farm, and started scouting the crop fields for duck sign, and that, along with talking to the farmer, helped piece together where the ducks had been feeding. We set up in a likely spot in a barley field that afternoon. 

With the sweltering Canterbury sun making the barley shimmer with anticipation of catching on fire, we were closed up in our blinds, sweat pouring into our eyes, clothes sticking to our body's, waiting for the distinctive native Paradise Shelduck, to tell us the hunt was on. There was nowhere else we wanted to be.

The heat of the sun was soon replaced by the heat from our barrels, as Carl and I called the "parries" into our decoy spread, trying to take photos, call and shoot at the same time! It was great to be out there with my friends, soaking it up, heat and all.
We didn't limit out, and it wasn't our goal to do so. We missed some we shouldn't have, and dropped some, that we fluked. All in all, it was just what you would expect from any duck hunt!

The season, had started.

Carl, Paul, James and I, with a good bag of Native NZ Paradise Shelducks

The Value of scouting.

I love February

It's my birthday month, which now that I'm turning 30, actually means I hate that aspect of it, but what I really love about it is that it's time to oil the Beretta, get the decoys out of the container, grass the layout blind, and hit the game birds!

This years first hunt turned out to be an absolute cracker. Luckily, Paul and I had been keeping an eye on some fields that had produced great numbers of geese for us in the past, and sure enough, things were looking good again this year. Large numbers of honkers were present, all feeding happily and being right at the start of the season, the juvenile birds were as silly as they were going to get. The farmer was more than happy for us to have a crack and he agreed to leave them undisturbed prior to our hunt. The last thing a good goose hunt needs is weary birds that have been shot at, chased by cars and dogs, or otherwise disturbed prior to the hunt.

Relentless scouting for birds pre-season is worth every second

Looking at the forecast, we picked a day that would give us the best chance at success, with a stiff wind forecast, then started the waiting game - would the geese still be there when the weather came good? Its the goose hunters dilemma, but after years hunting them its always a risk worth taking.

I jumped on the phone to James, a great mate of mine who lives in the North Island. He knows there is only one reason I would be calling him at this time of year - those magic words "I've got a few days hunting coming up, are you in?". He was on a plane 3 hours later.

Just after getting off the phone to James, Carl called. He had been keeping an eye on another of my property's, and he had seen enough that morning, to warrant giving the farmer a call. Access Granted.
No one was happier that James had booked an early flight, than James, as while the weather that day wasn't great for geese, it was perfect for the ducks!

Carl, Paul and I spend the next few hours shuffling decoys and gear around Canterbury, as it was going to be impossible to move all the gear needed for two hunts, against two different species of birds, in two locations, over two days, all at once. Goose decoys were taken by the trailer load down to the fields in preparation for the day after, then it was off to the airport to pick up James.

Reconnaissance, was now turning to hunting.

Unusually for ducks, the female paradise shelduck (Native to New Zealand) is more eye-catching than the male; females have a pure white head and chestnut-coloured body, while males have a dark grey body and black head.