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

Day 2 - 7 Species in 3 days - Shooting the Scottish Highland's

After a cracking day at Red Castle, we started Day 2 with something very traditional. Alex took me Wild Fowling, in an attempt to get me my first Wigeon, and what ever else the Firth might produce. With so many species living and roosting on it, you just never know what may fly your way. The tides on the Moray Firth weren't perfect, with the rocks that were to offer us great cover, and get us close to the flight line still well under water, but with the birds flying at first light, you cant afford to wait for the tide either. We therefore perched ourselves as close to the water, and the deeper channel as we could, and waited for the birds to fly on dawn. Fly they did, and we saw good numbers of both Wigeon and Mallard, but they were just out of range, but I still got to see my first Wigeon! All in all, it was a morning well spent on the Firth.

We headed home for breakfast, then Alex told to me to change out of the welly's and into hiking boots, as we were off to do some miles in the hills looking for Pheasant's and, possibly even get a shot at my first Partridge.

Arriving at Cawdor, We met up with the rest of the crew, both of the 2 and 4 legged variety. We were hunting over pointers, and they looked as excited as I was. We worked our way to the first section of real cover, each taking a line. I was beside Phil on the far right, and enjoyed watching his dog work the scent. I enjoyed it even more when I saw him go into Point. Suddenly, a Cock Pheasant exploded from in front of the pointer, and Phil took in cleanly. On the Shot, a Cock flushed at long range in front of me. I still felt I had a shot, and took it. Down the bird came, but I could tell it wasn't taken cleanly. The pointer, turned, and on command, raced up after my bird.  During the retrieve, yet another pheasant flushed on our side, from the same cover. This time a Hen. Phil took it cleanly on the first shot, and we waited for the pointer to return to retrieve it. I watched the dog running all over the place, and eventually, in a totally different location to where I thought my bird was, or would be, he got really excited. The dog found it, about 500 meters from where I saw it go down, and promptly returned it to Phil's hand. It was the best unsighted retrieve I have ever seen.

We continued on through the fields, and could tell the dogs were picking up scent. We arrived at a good deal of low cover, and Phil told us he reckoned the pointers were on to Partridge. They told me there wasn't a huge amount of Partridge where we were, as they were wild birds that had fled from various hunting estates in the area. We worked cover to cover, when, with an flurry of wing beats, the covey flushed - but well ahead of us, and the dogs. We kept working the cover, and another covey flushed in front. I was far to slow, and missed with both barrels behind, but the others pulled down one on a fine crossing shot, and we had our first Partridge. Seconds later, another covey flushed. This time they were flushing left to right. I was still in the wood, and had trees in every direction, but I had a clear wedge of about 40 degrees to swing through. I watched the covey come from my left, being chased by shots, and as they passed through my shooting window, up came the side by side, and down went a Red Legged Partridge! While we do have Red Legged Partridge in New Zealand, they are not found in the wild, and are only hunted on private hunting estates, so to not only see one, but bag one in the Scottish Highlands was amazing.

We headed back to the vehicle's, and took a short drive up a winding, climbing road, through forest and heather, where I was introduced to some of the most beautiful country I have ever hunted pheasants in - the Drynachan Valley. With rolling hill country, over looking the famed Findhorn river, it was a great spot to have lunch as well, and I enjoyed a traditional Scotch Egg Pie and a brew for lunch, swapping stories. Just sitting their in the sun, having lunch with new friends in the highlands makes you realise just what hunting is about.

The rest of the afternoon was spent on a very memorable walked up day on the Pheasants. The dogs were great, pointing and flushing a good number of birds, and with the rolling hills, and variety of cover, it seemed every bird offered something different. Considering it was late December, the fact the I got sunburned tells you just how off kilter the weather was at this time of year, as we should have been walking through snow! I had a lucky line once again, and managed a left and a right on a Cock and a Hen, and picked up another Cock towards the end, with everyone else either also bagging a bird, or having an opportunity to do so.  I'd fired 8 shots for 4 Pheasants and a Partridge - not a bad afternoon! Now it was off home, to swap the boots for welly's, pick up Don, and head to a flooded paddock, and see what would come in on dark.

Meeting up with the other two lads who had invited us down, we made our way through the sodden paddocks, where we found a large body of flood water. There were no birds on it, but there was a mob of Pink Foot Geese on the next paddock over. Leading up to dark, we saw several mobs of
geese wiffle down and join their friends, then one mob came a little close to us, and Alex dropped one out of the mob. I was on the board next, with a left and a right on mallards. It was getting quite dark at this point, when I heard a sound ill never forget - Wigeon! I didn't even have time to lift my gun, but Alex certainly did, and he bagged a fine Wigeon drake. It was one hell of a shot! We could hear Wigeon, but as is their custom, they were coming through right on the very end of twilight. There were ducks all over the place, either coming to the flood water, or flying over us, when I caught a glimpse of a duck in the last clear and light piece of sky I had to backdrop a bird with. I took the shot, and heard it hit the ground. It wasn't till good ol' Don retrieved it, that I found out I'd just bagged my very first Wigeon, and it was a drake! On that note, we packed up and headed out with our bag - one very happy Kiwi hunter, and what a day! Alex really pulled out the stops and did all he could to help me bag a variety of species, and a big thank you to Andrew for allowing us down to shoot his land, where I got my Wigeon. We had done everything on day 2, I couldn't really imagine how we could top it. Boy was I wrong. Day 3 added another species to my list, and it was the one bird I'd really hoped to get....

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

Day 1 - 7 Species in 3 Days - Shooting the Scottish Highland's

Alex had seen one of my posts on a UK shooting forum, and having enjoyed hunting, shooting and fishing around the world himself, and knowing how difficult it can be, he was quick to email me and invite me up to the Scottish Highland's between Christmas and New Year's. The trip got off to a horrid start, with the bus from London to Inverness running 2 hours behind schedule, not great when I was meant to get in to Inverness at 11pm. To make matters worse, the bus left us at a layby at midnight, and told us taxis would be taking us the last 2 hours! Eventually a 5 seat taxi turned up to transport 11 of us. After another delay, a van finally arrived and we were off.
No sooner had we left Perth, than our taxi driver and an oncoming car drove right into a herd of cattle that had escaped and were on the open road. Both cars were written off, and several cows killed. It was horrific, but the fact that there were no human fatalities was a miracle.
After waiting two more hours, I finally got to Inverness where I was met by Alex and his lovely wife Elsa just before 4am. We got two hours sleep, before we were off to hunt Red Castle, where we all hoped, my luck would improve!

Red Castle, was until recently, one of the oldest inhabited houses in Scotland, with its last residents being recovering RAF pilots during and after the Second World War. The original castle here was first constructed in 1179 and was known as Edirdovar. The present building is dated at 1641 - making it 200 years older than my home country of New Zealand!

Day 1 at Red Castle was very warm, as had been the preceding weeks, and Alex and the rest of the crew explained to me that that was bad for us. The warmer than usual weather meant the pheasants were likely to roam, rather than continue to feed at the feeders which meant  numbers would be down as they left our hunting area in search of naturally available food. That being said, many of the crew turned up, with us split into two teams. One team would beat and drive the birds to the other team who would be standing guns, then after each drive, we would swap around. This was to be my first driven Pheasant shoot, anywhere in the world.

My team and I started off beating, and I flushed 3 cock birds as we walked the hill country. Those, along with other birds flushed gave the standing guns plenty to shoot at, and we had our first pheasant in the bag!

The second drive gave me my first chance as a standing gun. A cock bird came through, but it was flying behind trees and shrubs, which deflected the pattern - another way of saying I missed him! I was lucky enough to have a Roe Doe walk right up to me before taking my shot, she stood there for 10 seconds, 15 meters away, then wondered off into the forest - Awesome!
Throughout the day, we saw a number of birds, and one of the lads even managed a couple of Woodcock! I was happy for him, but very jealous at the same time, having missed a tough shot on one myself. It was one of the birds I was hoping to bag while away from New Zealand. The Woodcock are migratory birds that come over from Finland and Russia to winter in the UK. They are tough to hit, and taste delicious...or so I've been told!
On the last drive of the day, I had two cock birds flush towards me, about 20 seconds apart. I dropped them both, giving me my first ever driven pheasants. It was nice to be shooting them in the head and chest, rather than as they are quartering away, which is how they normally present themselves over dogs, They were moving a bit faster than I'm used to, flying up high, having the wind behind them. They were great sporting birds and I was chuffed to have been given the opportunity to bag them.

After we had finished the drives for the day, where I had seen a good number of Pheasant, Woodcock and Roe Deer, a few of us decided to have a crack at some Greylag Geese that were feeding in a nearby field. 5 of us were to pick a spot on a fence line, while another one of the lads flushed the geese up. It was only a small mob of about 20, so this seemed to be a logical way of targeting them, rather than trying to decoy them the next day. I hadn't hunted geese with anything other than a semi-auto in years, and never with a side by side, so this was to be a first - especially as I'd never shot Greylag Goose before either, as they are only farm-yard geese back home, not game birds. These Greylag Geese were a totally different story, having migrated to Scotland from Iceland for the winter. I took a look around, noticed a few tress along the fence line, and read the wind. I hoped that these geese would perform like ours, so I figured the wind would blow them into my line, and they would stay away from the trees on my left and right. Soon enough, with their traditional honks, I heard them take flight. chancing a glance up, I saw happily they were coming within range of me, and with a pull on each trigger of the side by side, I added Greylag Goose to my days bag! What a first day shooting the Scottish Highlands. My first Goose outside of New Zealand, my first truly pure-bred, wild Greylag Goose ever, and shooting driven pheasants in the shadow of a castle older than my country - it just doesn't get any better than that! I couldn't wait to see what Alex had planned for the next day!

Canada Goose Hunt - Video

Here is some amateur video taken on one of my Canada Goose Hunt's in New Zealand. Semi-automatics, extended magazines, and no limit, are in place to allow hunters to manage Canada Geese on farmland.

The perfectly timed Photo

When people think "perfectly timed photo" they think of wing cupped honkers captured with their paddles down, or the cartridge ejecting out of the breach, and a crumpled bird in the background.

While I agree that these are photos many of us love to capture, to me, the perfectly timed photo is of that magic moment, that you can't plan for. You can't set a time or a place to it, you cant pose, waiting for the opportunity. It happens when it happens. Its that special moment when you realise you have packed up too early!


Sometimes, you get a warning sign. The birds might arrive when you are just laying out your bag for the photo. But that's often harder to deal with. You may have waited for hours, seen nothing, now just when home, food and sleep are in sight, a mob turns up to tease you! Do you stay, or go?

First thing to take into account, is the weather. Trying to get the tri-pod to stay still in a howling wind and trying, and often failing at keeping rain off the lens - all of these are obstacles that have to be overcome, before the opportunity has even presented itself.

Next comes setting the timer. Is it 6 seconds, or 12 seconds? Again, you don't know. How do you set a timer for a photo opportunity, that you don't know is going to happen?! The difficulties in capturing yourself in a moment of hunting infamy are numerous! Then you need to sprint back to your bag of the day, only for.....it to happen..at that split second the camera goes "snap".

You hear that unmistakable sound that you'd recognise anywhere....
With a quack, quack here and a honk honk there, all of Old Macdonald's birds turn up, when you think you are done for the day - after waiting hours, and seeing no birds, anywhere at all.
Hunters react in different ways to this. Some hang their heads in despair, others look towards the source of their anguish, while some, are prepared for just this eventuality, and when its safe and practical to do so, they keep a cartridge in their pocket, and maybe get their own, unique "taking a bird, while taking photos of other birds", perfectly timed photo!

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

"How to" hunt open water Mallard's

New Zealand is my home, but its also home to some of the best open water mallard shooting in the World. This is Lake Ellesmere (Te Waihoa), and it's where I learnt the art of Water fowling. It's beautiful on a sunny day....but hunts best in a cold Southerly, rain and hail!

Why do I love it so much?

Unlike other form of Duck hunting, you are not simply waiting for the birds to return home to a roost site, or to a feeding ground. You are hunting birds that have been literally blown off the water due to the weather. So what works for me?

• I try to pick a location that's both visible to passing ducks, but sheltered. I find sheltered bays, or areas in behind sand bars and islands work best, but also flooded areas on the fringes of the downwind end of the water body can produce good shoots
• Having the right equipment is also a huge plus. Hunting the fringes and flooded areas requires you to be mobile - a layout blind works best here.  
• The right amount of decoys, is also needed, just to make your spread visible to the passing ducks, so motion decoys can also be a bonus - but don't rely on them as late season birds may flare off them. 
• Don't set decoys too far downwind. These ducks are tired, and often they will drop down the first chance they get. I make sure all my decoys are within range when hunting big water for mallards.
• Calling is still important, and a powerful call is best suited to cut through the wind, while something softer is best in finishing them into the decoys.
• Concealement is a huge factor. On these dark days, your face and hands stick out from a long way out, make sure to cover up
• Ammunition and choke selection is also critical. Remember that your pattern will be blown around in the wind, and you may have to take pass shots at bird that don't fully commit (if you want too). A mid-extended range choke, and a heavier than average cartridge are a help, and I've found 3 inch, 36gr #2 works best for me. 

You don't need all of these elements to bag a duck or two, but in my experience, they sure do help, and they work for me!

Lake Ellesmere - Its scenic in the sunshine, but if you ask me, it looks best covered in cloud and rain!

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

Garrigill Grousing - Day 2

Day two saw better weather, and we ran drives over some other parts of the huge estate.  I had been told the numbers of grouse had been effected by a bad breeding season, but even still, I saw a huge number of birds. Hearing their distinctive call, and seeing huge coveys flush was truly an epic experience.

Steven, after we were both promoted!

Towards the end of the second day, one of the guns that Steven had been loading for fell Ill, and testament to the great job Steven had done for him over the two days, offered his gun to Steven. I was quick to put my hand up as a loader, and I am hanging onto the title of "fastest promoted Flanker to Loader at Garrigill" - Whether its true or not, I have no idea!

Getting to experience driven grouse from the hunting butt, as opposed to the view from beating, was a totally different experience. Steven shot pretty well over all, and I watched how he kept his gun low, and his eyes scanning. I will admit to be slow-ish on the loading, but I can confidently say my eyesight easily made up for it! We both had a blast, and it just added to my all ready epic experience.

Throughout the day, I met some real characters, and I was welcomed by all. Many of the guns came over and introduced themselves to the "Kiwi hunter", while the Garrigill crew were also superb. I had some great chats with Peter, Sid, Gregor and Mali, and, what little down time we all had was filled with stories and BS! I had really missed the banter you get on a hunting trip!

Coming from New Zealand, I had hoped to be able to experience some hunting around the world on my travels, and meet some like minded people. Never did I think, that I would receive an invitation to join a Grouse hunt on an English Moor. Thank you to Pete, Andrew, Steven, Alastair and others, who all helped to make this dream, a reality. I truly have found a little piece of Paradise.

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.

First a drought, then too much Rain!

Having drought conditions for much of the summer left many of our normal likely spots none dry. We were lucky that our opening morning pond had any water in it what so ever.

Keeping this in mind, and with the end of my time in New Zealand in sight, I thought I would head to the mighty braided river of Rakaia, and see if I could find any duck camps to decoy the following day, and Rich came along for the ride.

After spending a good day on the river, a very likely spot was found, holding great numbers of birds, but what do you know? Rain in the high country caused the rivers to climb. After almost drowning the year before in the same river, this time we made the hard, but wise call, to leave them alone.

A pair of Cape Baron Geese

The day wasn't totally lost, however when I saw my first Cape Baron Geese, since I shot my first and only one a few years earlier.

We were gutted, but in the end, that's hunting. We maybe could have got to the camp by raft, or maybe, this time one of us might have drowned in the swift waters of the Rakaia River

As fun and exciting as hunting is, its not worth your life, even if your life is hunting.

Part of the Duck camp and roosting site that we just couldn't safely get to.

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''.