My Pilgrimage to Canada!

After more than a decade of dreaming, years of planning and more than a few hours in a plane, I was on my way to Canada.

This trip meant a lot to me for many reasons.



A typical closing weekend at Scott and Lisa's farm in NZ
L-R, Dave, Simon, Scott & Myself

My dad and I loved to hunt waterfowl together. Dad wasn't a big traveller and thanks to a broken back, 20+ hours spent in a plane was not something he would have enjoyed. He did however sit down with me and watch all the waterfowl hunting dvd's that came out of Canada and we often talked about what it would be like to hunt in such a dream destination.

After my dad passed away following his long battle with Alzheimer's, it highlighted to me that life is short, and we only have so many days on this great adventure called life. What's more, none of us know just how many days we have. It made the decision to turn the dream into a reality an easy one and the pilgrimage to the Mecca of waterfowl hunting was on.

I was very fortunate to have met a great couple in Scott and Lisa back home in New Zealand. I met Scott through another hunting buddy of mine on a duck hunt, and with a mutual love of hunting, beer, food and banter, we soon become very close mates. Since we met, I've spent the last weekend of each waterfowl season on his farm, bringing some mates up to have a boys weekend hunting ducks and turkeys while his wife was back home in Canada with the kids visiting her family. That is where this trip first took shape.

Lisa and Scott told me to pop up to the farm one day as Lisa's father, Brian was over from Canada. Brian is a keen hunter and landowner, and after I brought around dinner of fresh blue cod and lobster that I had caught that day, we settled down to talk logistics. He said if I ever wanted to come over, he, his family and friends would help make it happen.

We exchanged a few emails over the coming years, until I was finally able to commit. He and Scott put me in touch with Lisa's cousin, Joe, based in Alberta. The rest, as they say, is history

Arriving from London to Edmonton at midnight on the 19th of September after a 21 hour flight, the international airport set the scene well. EVERYONE was a hunter! It was the start of the prime hunting time for Alberta and there were camouflaged clad hunters everywhere and after I managed to spot Joe, I introduced myself and we were off. Having talked on the phone once and sharing a few Facebook messages, I am sure neither of us knew what to expect, but with Scott having paved the way, I knew we would have plenty in common, and that was an understatement. We were kindred spirits and the 3 hour drive back to Hardesty gave us plenty of time to have a yarn.

On arrival at Dwayne's house at just before 3:30am, Joe showed me to my room and how to turn on the hunting channel (the fact that there is a hunting channel is just awesome!) and told me to set my alarm for 5am as we were in a blind at 6. I couldn't believe it. I had been on Canadian soil for less than 6 hours, and I was already hitting the fields!

The alarm didn't even go off. I was so excited I never slept, and watched water-fowling on TV instead. I turned off the TV and my alarm one minute before it was to go off and hopped out of bed. The only thing that's changed from when I was a young boy was this time I wasn't already wearing my hunting gear before I got out of bed! I met Dwayne who's place I was staying out and who was our resident "main man" on the birds, along with his long time friend from the US, Wayne, and his son Dennis. We loaded the pickups and off we went.

We were to hunt a huge field, and we found John and Tanner down waiting for us. Joe, Dwayne and I took off with headlamps to locate the bird sign, then we set up the blind and set out the decoys. We parked the trucks and dropped the trailer off around the field to discourage birds from landing in other parts, then as always, it was a waiting game.

My first hunt in Canada was all I had hoped it would be. My first Canadian sun rise soon brought with it plenty of birds. We all got our fair share of shooting and I was thrilled to have bagged my first greater and lesser Canada's, my first Pin tail, my first American Wigeon and my first speckled belly goose on day one, along with a few mallards as well! I got to spend plenty of hours in the blind getting to know the guys I would grow to become very good friends with over the next two weeks. I made equally good friends with Joe's Griffin, Mavis and John's Lab, Ed. These two dogs were in for quite a lot of exercise in the next few weeks!

How many great friendships have started in the hunting blind I wonder?

After the shooting was done, the first hurdle was to find Dwayne's trailer. The field was so big, that he forgot where he parked it and it took three pickups 10 minutes to find it. When I say we were hunting a big field, it was BIG. We cleaned all the birds, leaving a wing attached to the bird as is the custom in North America to prove the birds identity. We then returned home for lunch and a well earned nap, before heading out for an evening hunt, where we finished with another great shoot on a small field. The evening was spent sharing stories and enjoying a pot roast of moose while sampling some Lambs spiced rum.

With a good bag of ducks and geese on my first day in Canada, new species ticked off my list and some great friends made, my pilgrimage had started with a bang. I had no idea that this was just the beginning of the amazing experiences I would have over the next 5 weeks.

 Dwayne, Wayne Dennis
Myself, Joe, Tanner, John

John, Ed and I with the groups evening bag.



Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginnings End

August had arrived and with it the 2016-17 Game Bird Hunting Season in the UK. Coming into season first was one of the worlds premier game birds - the red grouse.

Pete has mastered the photo-bomb

Pete Livesey and I have shared many a memory since I arrived in the UK. He has never been shy of giving me an invite, of which I am immensely grateful. He has asked me to join him and his friends on everything from days on grouse, pheasants, partridge to roe deer stalking and wildfowling. He and his lovely wife Jan have welcomed me in to their home now for 2 years and it really has become my home away from home. When Pete extended an invite for Bailie and I to join him on the grouse moor in the North Pennines, I jumped at the chance, booked the bus and off we went.

The North Pennines were basking in the glow of the Autumn sun,with a good wind blowing to make the birds extra sporting. With a flying speed of around 75mph, they are already one of the fastest gamebirds on the planet. I couldn't wait to get boots on the feet and cartridges in the Browning and start the day.

The amazing view from the grouse butt

What I love about grouse days with Pete is that you get a bit of everything. We split in to two teams at the start of the day and the teams act as beaters for one an other, taking turns as standing guns. This means you get to experience driven grouse shooting from your "grouse butt", a small hide that you wait for the birds to be driven over, while also getting to shoot walked up, flushed birds and get a good work out on the boggy and hilly grouse moore. I like the fact that at the end of the day, my legs remind me that what ever I bagged for the day, was hard earned.

The grouse season had been hit and miss up to this point around  the UK, with early snow causing havoc on the broods during breeding. Some moors had cancelled all their days while others were on a restricted shoot schedule. Seeing the great numbers of grouse on ours, I could see why we hadn't. Luckily, we had a plethora of grouse and seeing them lift and hearing their distinctive call, it reminded me of why I had left home on my hunt for paradise. New Zealand will always be my home and with its amazing people, scenery and sporting opportunities, I am happy to say I lived in paradise. That being said, there is so much else to see in life than what one grows up with.  I have thoroughly enjoyed what the world has to offer, the different species I have taken and put on the plate, the people I've met and the landscapes I've seen. Each aspect of this journey is as important to me as the next and its what has made this experience what it is.

It didn't take long for me to realise that this was the perfect day to start the season on. Bailie and I's first shots came on the second drive when we had two coveys come our way. I managed two from the groups of birds and it was a fantastic feeling to once again have the honour of taking such a wonderful bird and to know I would be eating grouse again soon!

One particular drive stood out for me. It was our teams turn to beat the birds to the standing guns, however we could shoot forward up until the horn blew, from that point on shoot back. There were about 14 of us, spread out in a huge line with the dogs searching the heather and brakcen among us. We were flushing the coveys up, and as is common practice, any big groups flushed, we left without chasing them with shots so that they would fly down quite unaware to the waiting guns. The ones and twos however were not so lucky and I managed a lovely brace on this beat. It was great to put some miles in, flush the birds back to the guns that had done the same for me and get out amongst the dogs, shooting flushing birds.

I managed three and a half brace on the day, with a nice mix of birds, while this time around Bailie managed to just speed a few up. The days bag was of no consequence to our enjoyment, however we were all very happy to be going home with plenty of birds to prepare.

Bailie and I handled afternoon tea, with a lovely bottle of Slow gin, a few bottles of champagne and the customary cheese board. It was nice to relax and wind down, catch up with the lads I hadn't seen for 12 months and share some quality banter.

 Back in London, I did a red wine, bacon and grouse casserole and invited some fellow kiwis around for their first taste of grouse, The empty plates and bottles of wine told me that they appreciated the miles spent on the moor as much as we had.

After two years, this was to be the last adventure Bailie and I would share. Not long after this, our journeys would take us in different directions. We experienced a lot together and she will be remembered fondly as the kiwi huntress. It was on that very moor,, with me, 12 months earlier that she shot her first ever game bird - and it was a grouse at that. I am happy that I got to introduce her to a different way of life and I wish her all the best in her future adventuress and trust that she will find her own paradise along the way.

A lovely end to a great day on the moor

Aiming high for charity

During my time in the United Kingdom, I had the opportunity to shoot with a lot of amazing people, the first of whom was Pete Livesey, way back in October.

I had kept in regular contact with Pete following our trips on pheasants, ducks, roe deer and grouse. In January he mentioned he might have a few days of shooting I might be interested in, and would Bailie, my girlfriend, and I, like to come up to Cumbria?

Space was quickly made in the schedule and Bailie and I made our way up by bus to enjoy a few days with Pete and his lovely wife Jan and hopefully get onto a few birds, while also doing our part for a great cause.

The plan was to spend day one on a syndicate shoot that Pete was part of that covered several woods on a few estates in the area, shooting duck and pheasant, both driven and walked up. Day two was something special. I had been extended an invitation by Pete to join him and another syndicate to take part on a fundraising shoot, raising money for the hospice that had looked after the keepers wife at the tough end of her battle with Cancer. She had loved the shoots, had often come down to prepare the meals and socialise with the shooters and her loss was felt by many people. While I had never had the pleasure of meeting her, I could tell she had been well respected and loved by all of those involved.

Starting out on day 1 was a duck drive, where a large pond was flushed of mallards. Being quite late in the season, I was surprised to see so many ducks in attendance and I managed to pick up 3 birds in 3 shots with Pete's trusty Winchester O/U - a gun I have grown to love. We spent the next few hours driving pheasants. I was standing out on my peg, with Pete and Bailie along with the dogs working the beating line. Bailie got a shot on the SLR of a rooster flushing, that was collected by a shot of my own a few hundred meters away - great team work! With a good bag of duck and pheasant for the day, we then shot off to the taxidermist to pick up our red grouse that we had mounted and to drop off my woodcock, wigeon and partridge from Scotland. All in all, it was a day well spent.

The next day saw us join head keeper Dave and the crew for the fundraising shoot. Dave was in great spirits for the day, and to see everyone wearing an item of clothing in yellow as a further tribute was great. He was happy to have us there and told us about Anne, what she meant to the shoot and to everyone else in the community. It was a very positive atmosphere and we felt privileged to be part of it. We each made our donation, before starting off on a duck drive. The ducks had been living in a large wood with a small pond in the centre of it. It was a flurry of ducks that exploded out of the wood when the dogs went in and most shooters managed a shot or two. After the first drive, I had two ducks so I couldn't have been happier.

As this was the only duck drive of the day, we then swapped 12 bores for small bores - and I couldn't wait. My first gun of choice was a lovely 28ga o/u - a gauge I had never shot before. With my first shot of the little 28ga I bagged a French partridge and missed another. Over all I was pretty happy with how the cartridge shot, but it was time to swap around. Up next was possibly the biggest surprise.  Perhaps it was because I am a kiwi, but I was given what I can only say is the least likely firearm I ever thought I would shoot driven pheasants with - a pump action, suppressed Mossberg 500 in .410. With so many shooters taking part, everyone brought what ever small gauge gun they could - I was just happy that someone had leant me one to use!

The second to last drive ended up being a belter. There were pheasants everywhere and once again the small gauges were doing the damage. I managed 7 pheasants in 10 shots from the .410, some of which were quite high on driven birds swooping over with the wind behind them. For the final drive, I was lucky enough to have a rooster flush early right at me. One shot from the .410 and my days bag was complete.

Of all the shooting experiences I have had since being in the UK, that charity day will remain with me for a long time. The shooting on offer

was fantastic, and to be invited onto a fully driven shoot for such a great cause was an honour. Everywhere I go, I meet people that would bend over backwards to help you. They welcome Bailie and I into their homes, their lives and their shoots. We have met some amazing people on our trip and this shoot was no different. We both would have loved to have met Anne, but after spending the day with her husband Dave and the rest of the shoot, hearing the stories and seeing the respect she garnered, we definitely met the spirit of the lady, and the legacy she left behind.

The Divers of Lough Neagh

All ready my first trip to Ireland was better than I could have imagined. My first day shooting with Mark bagged me my first green wing teal, and a pair of mallards. I also managed to bag my first Diver - a Tufted duck. I couldn't wait to get out with Ross to his spot on Lough Neagh, where this time, divers would be the target species. Lough Neagh is one of the largest lakes in the United Kingdom and having experienced a wide variety of shooting since leaving New Zealand, I was loving getting back to my bread and butter - open water decoying. The fact that today we would be targeting divers was the icing on the cake.

Alarms blaring, dogs barking and vehicle lights spilling through the windows signalled the start of the days shoot. Matthew, Richard and Dean would be joining Ross, Mark and I for the day spread out on a couple of shooting spots. First up, Ross and Mark grabbed the boat, fired up the outboard and started setting a good sized decoy spread as the sun started rising over the horizon..

We all started off together in the main hide, telling yarns, getting to know one an other and taking turns to shoot. The first mob of the day gave me yet another new species and another diver - the Scaup. We have a type of Scaup in New Zealand, but they are protected, so to be able to hunt this bird here was a nice change. Scaup provided the bulk of the days bag, and we saw literally hundreds, as they swooped around in large mobs. Ross told me that numbers were actually down, so the crew he hunted with had self imposed limits to help protect the their harvest for the future.

Ross and Richard doing the grunt work

The boys were quick to point out to me any other species they saw and among them were Goldeneye. This was probably my number one diver that I had hoped to get in Ireland, but they just wouldn't quite commit to the decoy spread. The next flock of Scaup came in, just after a Goldeneye had once again ignored us. They were just on the edge of range and ordinarily the boys would let them come round again, but Mark with a sudden start was up in a flash, targeting one particular bird. He bagged it with a great shot and immediately Ross and Mark exchanged a glance. After the retrieve, they showed me another new species that I had not seen before - another diver called the Pochard. The Pochard is cut from similar cloth to the North American Red Head and Canvasback and is a beautiful bird. I had no idea that Ireland even had them. They both apologised to me that Mark had seen it at the last second, otherwise they would have told me to try and bag it. I laughed and said we are all there to shoot ducks, so get stuck in. Still, the fact that these guys were willing to let me shoot their trophy birds that they themselves were clearly passionate about, was something special - its just the kind of guys they are.

Mark doing what he does well

Not long after this, Mark decided to try something new with the Goldeneye decoys, as they just didn't want to commit. He moved them slightly further out and to the side of the main spread, so that they would show as their own small group. Mark then took cover in the drooping willows. He had been there less than 5 minutes when a single Goldeneye drake came round the point, saw the decoys, and cupped down right into them. Mark had our first Goldeneye on the board. He asked me if I wanted to have a turn - 'absolutely'

Typical to bird hunting, the Goldeneye had other ideas. The boys continued to get good shooting over the main spread, and after 45 min, Ross came over and asked if I was ok, or did I want to come back? The words were just out of his mouth when I pointed and said 'is that what I think it is'? He nodded, and we both watched a single Goldeneye drake drift round a few feet off the water and slide into the decoys. My first shot from the A5 was high, but I collected him with my second. Ross whistled his Chessie out and I had my first Goldeneye in my hand. Ross was as happy as I was, which is saying something for the guy.

Arriving back at the main spread, I noticed that the change in wind was pushing some birds just outside the spread, and Matthew had headed to another hide in the hopes of cutting them off. True to form, while he was there, nothing really flew that line, so he returned. I then offered to go round and take Matthews place, as I was all ready happy with the day, so figured id leave the main spread and shooting to the others.

Diver shooting at its best

My luck continued and it wasn't long before a single bird came down my line. The Redhead told me all I needed to know. I had another diver and my first Pochard! Not long after that, I got my second. Ross pulled the pin around lunch time. We had a good bag of Scaup, along with the trophy's of the day - Two Goldeneye and three Pochard.

Back at Ross's place we got stuck into fresh duck cooked on the grill, along with Fallow venison that the boys had just knocked over. It was nice to not only be hunting and shooting again, but also being in the company of people who live off the land like I do back home in New Zealand. It was a great way to end the weekends shooting, and the following day, I said goodbye to some of the nicest guys I have ever met.

The Kiwi contingent - Emma, Caitlin

Bailie and myself

I hadn't been back in London long when Ross told me about a wild food day they were hosting as a fundraiser. I said I would love to come over with Bailie and could we bring some other friends of ours from New Zealand to support it? 'More the merrier' was the answer, so the Kiwi contingent headed over to the wild game night. The girls did their thing, while I helped Ross and Mark prepare the food. Partridge, Duck, Venison, Goose and Rabbit were all the menu. Over 50 people turned out in support of Ross and his Judo club for their trip to South Africa to compete and we all had a great weekend, with live music. Richard even got into the spirit of things and treated us to ACDC - played on bagpipes! It was just awesome. The only low light was that we drank Matthews bar dry of Guinness!

To have a dinner like that, with the game that I helped harvest and prepare, then share it with Bailie and my friends was a great way to finish off and celebrate my shooting in Ireland for the season. As great as the shooting was, meeting some fantastic people turned out to be the real highlight.

The last shot of the day at the magic Lough Neagh

Luck of the Irish

Why sleep in when you can see this?

Ireland and New Zealand have always had a strong connection, and after recently travelling over the ditch from London to Northern Ireland, I can see why.

Ross introduced himself to me on a Facebook group, and very graciously offered to host me for a few days duck shooting. He told me he couldn't make any promises, but if I was willing to make the trip over, he would do his best to see me get a shot or two.

Knowing ducks as I do, nothing is ever certain, but I did know that I would get to meet a top lad like Ross, and get my first look at Ireland.

A plan was put in place that would see me land in on Friday, and hunt Saturday, but just before I booked my flights, Ross told me a good mate of his - Mark, was heading out on the Friday, and if I wanted to, I could join him. I couldn't believe it, now I had two Irishman whom I had never met, offering to take me out. Suffice to say, I booked a flight for Thursday night and then counted the days.

I got off to a rocky start, after Easyjet refused to let me on the plane as my bulging bag was to large. There was only one thing for it. After putting on thermal trousers, over top of jeans, knee high welly's, and a goretex jacket over a fleece shooting jacket, the bag was good to go! I had so much sweat dripping off me, and bulging with clothes, I can only imagine what people were thinking, and I'm still surprised security didn't ask me to step into a corner office! Arriving into Belfast, Ross laughed at this, then told me once he had to wear his chest waders in order to catch a flight! Duck shooters are dedicated!

Ross took me round to meet his family for a home cooked meal. I learned that Ross and I were very much alike. We are both nearer to 30 than 20, both played outside centre, both love our duck shooting and both have little to no hair left! Everyone was very friendly and welcoming in the Scott house hold, and the partridge soup was fantastic! After dinner, Ross drove me out to meet Mark who lives just under 2 hours away. I didn't know Mark lived this far from Ross, and I told him he really didn't need to have done this for me as it was quite late and he had work the next day. He said rubbish, its only a drive. To say Ross would give you the jacket off his back in the rain would be an understatement.

Nina had a great day, with some long retrieves on the open water of the lough

The snow was gently falling as we met up with Mark, I grabbed my gear out or Ross's van, loaded it into Mark's, then we were off. The high waters in Ireland were on their way down finally, so Mark thought it prudent to go check on the duck boat that we would be using the next day. Sure enough, it was only just in water. We managed to get it into a nearby drain, and then refloated it into the lough. Better to spend an hour doing it the night before, than running late the next morning.

We headed back to Mark's family home, where I met his parents, and we had a couple of quiet brews, then off to bed for a few hours before we were to be up again before first light.

A beautiful spot for open water duck shooting

Friday morning was magical. The snow covered landscape was sparkling under moonlight, and the air was as fresh as mother nature could make it - a nice change from London! Boating to our spot,  water droplets were freezing to the sides of the hull, but we were quickly warmed up by putting out a good spread of decoys under the rising sun.

The sun lit up a stunning snow covered, rural landscape. Geese were honking in the distance, and ducks were whislting past. All ready the trip was worth it, and we hadn't fired a shot.

Ross was good enough to lend me his callers, and it felt good getting back to calling in birds, and contributing to a hunt. Mark told me what notes and when to use them, and away I went. The first birds into the spread were a pair of green wing teal. Mark was up and banging as they flew right over us and dropped one, but I was far to slow and only managed to make them fly a little faster.

My first tufted duck and green wing teal

The next mob was much the same, and I thought 'oh no - its going to be one of those days'. We then had a group of 3 peel behind us then come screaming in from the right side. I went up and pumped 3 shots out of the Bronwing A5 and amazingly watched 3 green wing teal fall out of the sky! We dont have green wing teal in New Zealand so this was another first for me. I didn't realise I had got a tripple until I looked at Mark who was swearing at his Fabarm - a jam! Mark's lab Nina didnt care who shot them, she just piled out of the duck boat and had a great day on the retrieve. It's always nice to watch a dog in action, as we all know they enjoy it more than us!

As good as the shooting was, the day's highlight was when Mark found a spare decoy to throw out, which he did, unceremoniously into a tree. There was no way to get it down, other than to blow the branch off. I was in hysterics as Mark shot the offending branch, and just when I thought it couldn't get any worse for poor old Mark, Nina heard the shot and heard the splash and was out on retrieve! I'm sure she still cant work out why Dad was shooting his decoys, and why they were in a tree!

It was a typical day on the ducks. Long waits, then sudden bursts of excitement as there are ducks everywhere. We managed to bag a few more GW teal, and even got a pair of mallards. We then had a pair of ducks come round and Mark got instantly excited. He told me 'dont miss' - no pressure! I knew what ever they were, Mark wanted me to bag one. The two ducks flared in beautifully and Mark and I both went up. We each cleanly took our bird for a nice team double. Mark had a smile on his face when Nina brought back in the first of a pair of drake tufted ducks. I had never seen a duck like it before, and was over the moon. Another first, and my first 'diver'.

Mark and I shot very well together, but all that was forgotten when I missed a sitter of a wigeon drake. Safe to say, Mark will ensure I don't forget that one, but luckily I had bagged one in Scotland a few weeks earlier otherwise I would have felt very ill!

We packed up early enough to get back to Marks for some dinner before heading out again for some flight pond action. We were set up on a soak just off a small river and had a great evening. It was a truely sporting shoot, with GW teal screaming in out of the half light. As hard as they were, we still added a few to the days bag, but I did miss a snipe and Mark missed a Woodcock. Nobody's perfect!

Our action packed day in Ireland was over, and what a day it was. We packed up the van, dropped the ducks off to Mark's, before starting the drive to Ross's, where the following day was to be spent targeting Divers - I couldn't wait!

Myself, Mark and Nina at the end of the day on the Lough

Hat Hunter - The little hat that could

Carl, Paul, James and I after a great evening on Paradise Shelduck

James 'Monster' Pettley was first introduced to me via a hunting forum in New Zealand. He commented on a few of my posts and pictures, and we kept in contact for 12 months. It wasn't till he briefly moved down to the South Island and came came into the gun shop I worked at, did he introduce himself in person.
James asked if he could accompany me on my next hunt as a photographer, as he didn't want to invite himself as a shooter. I advised him to pack anything that could shoot - gun or camera and he was welcome to join me anytime and the rest, as they say is history.

James has a signature hat that he had been given by an Australian hunter and it went everywhere with him. At least it did until one day he left it behind. Knowing he wasn't going to be doing any hunting for a while, as he had a few months of work on, I thought the least I could do was take his hat on a few adventures and send him the photos - I thought he would love to see all the hunting his hat was doing while he was stuck on the Dairy farm! It was eventually returned to him, all be it with a bit more experience, before the Duck Season.

We had a great time with the Hat. It was always on time, I didn't have to feed it, I didn't have to keep picking it up from the airport, and it was very bright. All in all, it was a great substitute for James!

On a hunting trip not so long ago, a man travelled South to give it a go.

He stopped for a roast and missed his plane, begging jetstar - it was all in vain.

He travels the world, far and wide, shooting birds below, above and from the side.

The trip was grand and full of fun, but the way James shot, he needed a bofors gun.

The birds are history and the sun gone down, the hunt is over, save cleaning the gun

For James this started the depression, and then, he realised he'd left behind his most prized possession

His hat was alone, left in the blind, but we picked it up - you don't leave a man behind

Where it takes us and what it sees, will be noted here, for us all to see

Day 3 - 7 Species in 3 days - Shooting the Scottish Highland's

After spending 2 weeks touring Scotland earlier in the year, I was over the moon when Alex invited me up to hunt the Scottish Highlands at the end of December. Days one and two had been amazing, and I was lucky enough to have shot several new species.

Day 3 dawned and it seemed like the Scottish winter had finally turned up! We returned to Red Castle, where this amazing trip had began. Today we were doing a straight walked up day, with the odd fixed gun when needed. On went the jacket and leggings, then it was off to do the first block. The first beat saw several pheasants flushed, and one shot. It was a pretty good start to the morning and it told us the pheasants were happy to fly in the torrential rain. On the way to the second beat, I saw a great mob of Roe Deer, and it was nice to watch them bounce their way up the hill side. On arrival at the second beat, we all picked a beating line, and off we went. We hadn't been going more than 45 seconds when a bird flushed just meters in front of me. By this time, after three days of solid shooting, and being well in tune with the side by side, I patterned it very quickly. I took the gun off my shoulder, when another bird flushed off the right. It was chased by shots, and it passed in front of me at about 45 meters. Having just the one cartridge in the gun, I took my time, swung through the bird, and cleanly dropped that as well. It wasn't until  the retrievers picked them up and the birds were placed in my hands, did it sink in that I had shot the one bird that I'd hoped to get, and that I had missed on day one. I had my self a woodcock, and not only that, but I'd shot a left and a right!

I was aware of the existence of the 'Woodcock Club', and Alex had a lot of fun pointing out that I had in fact not met the criteria of the club. While I had bagged two woodcock with a left and a right, there was one tiny condition that I failed to meet - 'that a gun must not be lowered between shots'. Well, its hard to be disappointed, when you have just shot one of the most sort after trophy birds in the UK, and I certainly wasn't! But I did vow to start a new 'off the shoulder woodcock club'! Not long after that, another woodcock flushed in front of me, and I chose to leave it for another shooter, as it was crossing, but no shots followed it, so when another woodcock crossed in front, chased by shots by Alex, I raised the side by side, and when it was in front of me, squeezed the trigger. I had my third woodcock in 3 shots!

After that drive, I told Alex and the rest of the guys that I had shot my share, and told them I was happy to beat, or to be put in the less likely places. On the next two drives, I enjoyed watching the lads drop 3 pheasants, but due to the rain, I didn't get my Camera out. The last two drives of the day fast approached, and we headed out to a little patch of wood. Alex told me to head out into a cut barley field, about 20 meters away from the cover, so that if anything escaped the guys in the wood, I could cut it down. As luck would have it, to everyone's surprise, there were no pheasants in the wood...but I did flush one out in that field.
All the dogs were working the wood, but as I was about to literally step on this cock bird, it flushed. One barrel was all that was needed, and I added that to the days bag. I walked sheepishly over to the guys who all had smiles on their faces. While they appreciated that I had offered to walk the less likely lines, they were still thrilled that it was their guest who bagged another bird. What a great bunch of guys.

The last wood was on everyone's mind. Alex had been saying all day that he reckoned that's where the birds would be. He decided that the way to hunt this wood was to set guns on the far side, and then drive the birds out towards them. they had to climb quite high to escape, so it looked like the shooting would be very good. I was left to cover the rear, on the off chance that the beaters - led by Alex had birds flush after they had passed, and the guys that hadn't had much shooting went to the other side as standing guns. I had a great time watching pheasants getting shot at about 60 meters in the air. I was almost surprised when a Hen flew back out my side, having evaded the beaters and dogs. I waited for it to clear the wood, so that I had a clear backdrop for my shot, then dropped it. Seconds later, a Cock bird flushed, but this one evaded all of us.

The last drive brought us 5 pheasants, and it was a great way to finish up another successful day at Red Castle. I was sad to be leaving this great group of guys, having hunted with many of them for the last 3 days, but after once again giving my thanks, we left the guys and grounds behind.
At home, Alex prepared fresh woodcock for dinner - which is one of the nicest birds I've ever eaten! So ended my 3 days hunting in Scotland. I had managed many firsts - Greylag Goose (2), Red Legged Partrdige (1), Wigeon (1) and Woodcock (3), along with a pair of Mallard's, and 8 Pheasant's.

Alex and Elsa's hospitality was amazing, and I felt like I had another family away from New Zealand. They want Bailie to come up next time, so they can meet her, and show her the same treatment. Everyone I met on this trip was friendly, helpful and generous. To finish the trip off, I managed to arrive back in London after 14 hours on the bus from Inverness, and made it to a New Years eve party at 11:59 PM, after sprinting from the tube. I arrived just in time to see in the New Year with Bailie and my friends. What a way to see out 2015!

Alex, Don and I at Red Castle