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....

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.

This time, I have a gun

No sooner had I left Garrigill, and joined Bailie in Edinburgh, did Pete give me call, asking, me how my trip to the Grouse moor had gone. After giving him the good news, and again telling him how thankful I was to him for networking me with the required people, he asked me what I was doing the coming weekend.
I gave my normal answer, which is "I'm flexible, why, what's up"?

He then made my year.

"How would you like to go back up to the Garrigill area, but on a different Grouse Moor, and shoot a syndicate gun for someone who cant make it?"

Now, Pete knew that I was trying to avoid paying for hunting. I was instead looking to sort out swap hunts for people wanting to hunt with me back in New Zealand, or just looking for an opportunity by someone wanting to help a fellow hunter out, hear some new stories, and share what he, or she had to offer. Its what I do back home for travelling or new hunters I meet, so I was hoping the same would be the case as I travelled the world. Safe to say, while it wasn't free, to use the phrase "he gave it away" does come to mind. Pete told me that I may never get an opportunity to hunt grouse ever again, and that there were waiting lists in the UK for guys to get onto syndicate shoots, I was sold. To sweeten the deal, he talked with Cliff,the head keeper, and explained the situation. Cliff then told us he was going to take us to chase some pheasants before hand, and if she wanted to, Bailie could come along, to either take part in the hunt, or to watch - Two for the price of one, and I really like Pete's negotiating skills.

Bailie hadn't ever been hunting before, but she was very familiar with guns, and firearms safety, as her and I did spend a lot of time back in New Zealand, shooting clay targets, with the idea that one day, she may want to join me on a hunt. With an opportunity like this, she was soon convinced that there's no better time like the present, so it was off to the shops to get her some hunting gear!

We arrived by train, where Pete picked us up. Once again, Pete and his wife, Jan welcomed me, and this time Bailie, into their home. I can't say enough wonderful things about these people.

Bailie enjoyed the drive to Garrigill as much as I had, and she was starting to see why I had been so excited. Arriving at the estate, we met up with Cliff, and the rest of the syndicate where we were breifed that we would all take turns driving and shooting in teams. To my absolute dismay, they all agreed that Bailie and I would just shoot, as they really wanted us to have a chance at bagging a grouse. Considering that these guys are full time, paid members of the syndicate, this was very generous of them.

The pheasant drives flushed plenty of birds, but all away from our end, and it was the other boys who added to the bag early. After that, it was time to drive the grouse.

We had some good hills to climb, and it was nice of the guys to give up their seat in the Polaris, so Bailie didn't have to slog it to the top - though after stalking Chamois with me in the Swiss Alps, I know she would have made it either way.

We started seeing more and more grouse as the day went on, but I had only managed a long shot at a passing covey, to no avail. Cliff set us all down and gave us the game plan for the last two drives, both of which he told us, he expected good things from. We lined up in our places, and waited for the beating team to close the gap, and flush the grouse...soon enough, I was hearing that all to familiar and unique call of the grouse, and I knew, this time, we had them.

There were grouse Everywhere! Guys were firing up and down the line, and then, straight ahead of me, I see a covey of grouse flying nap of the earth. I keep focused, and rather than looking at the entire covey, I pick one bird. That one grouse is all that I am focused on. I know where the other guns are, I know where the beaters and dogs are, all that exists, is me, and this grouse. The covey closes on me, and I'm remembering all the things I had learned the week before with Steven. At what I deem to be the right range, I swing up and through the climbing grouse, that's just off my left shoulder. The Browning's trigger is crisp, and as I gently squeeze it, I'm thinking this is the most important shot I've ever taken in my life with a shotgun. The Grouse crumples in mid air, taken centre pattern. I swing on to the next bird, but its pointless. I am so charged up about what I just did, the excitement gets the better of me and I rush the shot. I also note that I am now shooting behind me, with a rear aspect shot. What I thought was ideal range to start shooting the covey, was in fact not ideal - lesson learned.

All of this is ticking in my head, but my mouth is just yahooing. In an explosion of emotion, the whole syndicate knows the kiwi has bagged a grouse! No sooner had I dropped two more cartridges in the Browning, that another covey screams in. This time, I keep my calmness through both barrels, and shoot earlier. I down my first left and right of grouse. I managed two more as the drive went on, finishing with two and half brace, and I heard Bailie fire a few shots as well. I had marked where all my birds had landed, so I was a little surprised when she pointed to an area behind and between the both of us, asking if id picked up the one that had dropped there. I told her I hadn't shot a grouse that dropped there, and we were both a little confused. The next gun along came over and straightened it out. He had a huge smile on his face, and hs words will live with me forever. "dear, you shot that Grouse, not Tom". Bailie shoots a semi auto 20ga back home, which has a lot less kick than a 12ga double gun. The fact that she was pulling up and through the grouse, combined with the recoil, combined with the fact that the mobs of grouse were so big, she had no idea that she her self, had just joined a very elite club, and bagged her first ever gamebird. To start with a grouse flying 75 mile an hour, well, we all have to start somewhere dont we.

Bailie, Pete and Myself after a day in spent in Paradise

I gave up my spot the line, as I had accomplished more than I had hoped, so I joined the beaters for the final drive. Cliff told me to shoot any birds that flush close enough, but to keep in mind that it might effect the main shooters. With this in mind, while I flushed several birds just a few yards in front of me, i let them go down to the guns. I had had my turn, now it was someone else's.

We didn't even count the bag, it was irrelevant. It wasn't getting any bigger, or any smaller, and we divvied out the birds amongst those who wanted some. I took just two. They will be the first birds or animals I have ever had mounted, in 25 years of hunting, but they are easily the best trophy I will ever hope to have. A pair, the first grouse that Bailie and I each shot.

What a day to remember, and what a great crew if guys, who once again, were happy to share their little piece of paradise with not just me, but Bailie too.

The most generous, and welcoming Syndicate of Shooters, you would ever hope to find..

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.

Garrigill Grousing

I couldn't believe it, I was going on a grouse hunt!

Even though I wasn't shooting with anything but a camera, it didn't bother me one bit. I was thoroughly looking forward to taking part in a new sport, and seeing what driven grouse hunting was all about.

I pulled up in my little camper at Steven's house, just before the appointed 7am. We then had a chin wag while we waited for his daughter, Lizzie to arrive. Once she had, we loaded our selves into Steven's land rover, and hit the road. There was a light drizzle about for much of the way, but this turned to heavy fog as we climbed into the North Pennines, and into Grouse country!
The North Pennines was designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in 1988,  and it was here that I spotted my first  mob of Black Grouse (Black Game) - this area holds 80% of all black game in the UK. I snapped a few photos of this new game bird, then it was a short drive through Garrigill proper, before we arrived at our destination - Garrigill Estate.

Black Grouse (Black Game) at Garrigill

Steven introduced me to Alastair, the head keeper at Garrigill, and he then gave me a quick run down of the day ahead. He introduced me to Pamela and Kevin, both of them beaters, and along with Lizzie, we headed off into the fog with the rest of the beating and flanking team. Having never flanked, beated, or even been on a driven hunt before, I was all ears as I got the low down for my job of the day. That, and taking photos was to keep me pretty busy!

The low fog dictated where our drives took place early on, but as the sun climbed, so did the fog, and it wasn't long before we were back to the plan, and seeing plenty of grouse. Id been told that some bad weather had effected grouse numbers, but as the day went on, we saw more and more.

Many of the shooters came over and talked with me, after hearing "a Kiwi" was in attendance, and between the beaters, the guns, and the loaders - many of whom were game keepers themselves, I was very warmly welcomed by all, and learnt a lot about grouse, and how to hunt them.

The day  seemed to vanish, even if I did spend the majority of it beating my way up the hills around Garrigill, and wading through moor land - all in all, it was good to blow the cobwebs out, and what a beautiful place to do it in.

All in all, my first day on a Grouse moor was interesting, and enjoyable. I met some great people, saw some fantastic country, and got to take part in hunting a new species. I couldn't wait to see what the next day would bring.

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!

Every new biginning is some other beginnings end....

Lake Ellesemere, or Te Waihora as it is known in Maori, is where I began my hunting and fishing life.

At the lake and its tributaries, I shot my first duck and my first goose, speared my first flounder and caught  my first trout, so it was only fitting that my last hunt before leaving New Zealand, was where it all began.

Paul, Richard and I headed out to my cousin, Haydon's place for two days. To say it is a duck hunters Paradise would be fitting. I've been lucky enough to hunt there all my life, through 4 different farm owners, as my cousin recently (in farming years) acquired the place - lucky right?! My Grandfather even worked on the farm many moons ago,

The place is great to visit, not just to have a crack at some open water hunting, but also for the history that the duck hut (now aptly called "the ducks deluxe") holds, not just for my family, but for many others. The hunter diary caries entry's dating back over 50 years - it is where for many hunters, they had their first, and their last hunts. It is a very special place.

The weather forecast for the following day wasn't perfect, but with my flight out to India in just a few days, we certainly weren't waiting fr it to get better. We would just do what all duck hunters do, put tne effort in, and hope for the best.

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 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''.

The longest day

Every hunt for me starts the same. With a pair of binoculars and a phone, and this started no different.

After watching these birds for a few days, I noticed once again that we were dealing with some early risers, and late finishers- it was going to be a long, long day in the field.

It was a lot longer for my mate Pete, who had to travel 4 hours to and from home, and he brought with him Ryan, the brother of a mate of mine, was only to happy to fill in, and come on his first hunt with us.

The local lads went down the night before, and we flushed out the remaining birds so as not to let them eat all night - we wanted them hungry for the next morning. We set out the Decoy spread, then headed home for what ever sleep we could get.

Not so bright, but very early the next day, we all met up at the property. We added Pete's decoys to the mix, then waited in our blinds foe the sun, and the birds to turn up.

 As the day went on, we had sporadic flights come in all day. We had the traditional rush in the morning, but all in all, the birds kept us buttoned up in our blinds. We found out first hand, that if you think tour in a "lull", as soon as you get out for a stretch, you will be caught with your ants down. Literally!

In a surprising turn, the late afternoon and evening provided us the most consistent shooting of the day. It was with droopy eyes, but happy faces, that we packed up after another successful day in the field., and so would end our summer Season. We now had an agonizing wait for the Duck Season to arrive, made even worse by knowing, I was only going to be in the country for one week of it!

Ryan, Myself, Carl, Pete, George and Paul with the results after a long day in the field!

To stay or not to stay, that is the question

Following on from the hunt on the stubble, we had a question to ask ourselves - do we hang around for another crack?

Both Dan and Paul had to return to work on the Monday, so for them it was easy. In the end, it was easy for Dave and I as well - why leave, when there's an opportunity at another hunt.

We said goodbye to the other lads, and headed back to the woolshed for another night. Fresh duck fried up for tea made a nice end to the evening, but we knew we had all ready shot both ends of this valley, and a lot of birds knew we were about, the mooring would bring what it would bring.

It brought fog.

Most people think a windless day is a goose hunters worst nightmare, not so. A foggy day means no wind, and no way for the birds to find your decoys. Sometimes you get the odd good shoot in the fog, but all in all, my experiences with it have been mostly negative.

It was quite late in the morning, the fog had cleared enough for the Paradise shelduck to fly, but nt the geese. Parries are  very dependable game bird - if your in the right place, you have a good chance of being able to call them over the decoys.
It was well past "goose o'clock" when the fog finally lifted. We waited around for another hour, nd were about to pack up, when a lone honk could be herd from up river - and it was coming closer.

One honk led to s few more, and it wasn't long before the geese were playing ball. Sadly, Dave and I who normally shoot very well together had an "off day at the office". Dave got caught with n rounds in his gun on one mob, and It felt like I was shooting blanks at another. We got our game together, anf all in all, we were pretty bloody happy to have stuck around for another morning - though the pack up job for two guys was immense!

When the fog lifted, it was a beautiful day in more ways than one. Myself and Dave with the bag.

When anticipation turns to excitement!

We were all ready in our blinds waiting for the sun to rise. We hoped that it would bring with it flights of geese, and it did...they were just all heading to the crop fields! After some great bags all ready this year, where everything went right, it was time to really hunt some birds! We had the flag working over time, and Dave and I really worked the callers hard on any birds that were close enough to hear it..and even on some that weren't, in that forlorn hope to swing birds off their natural flight path, and to stop following all their friends to the fields of crop.

We did manage to bring a few around after what felt like years on the callers. Every goose hunter knows how hard it is to turn birds away from where they want to go, but none the less, we were on the board, it wasn't easy, and it was great really working the birds into the spread. More importantly, it was Dan's first goose with me, so all in all, we were all pretty happy.

We got a lot happier when Mr Farmer came down to see us as we were packing up.


"I've heard from my neighbour, your good to go, he says to go hammer 'em".

We passed on our thanks, cleaned our birds, loaded the trailer, and we were gone. We knew the birds fed there in both the mornings and evenings, so we wanted to be set up well before they arrived that afternoon. With a dust cloud trailing fast behind us, we headed back east.

As always seems to be the case, no matter how early you set up for an afternoon hunt, one goose (if your lucky) always arrives early! we missed the one, but we were set up in plenty of time to get the mob of 7 that came in minutes later. With the majority of the early risers on the deck, we then had a wait of about an hour, before we reckoned the fun would start.

Two hours later, and the birds were late! We were kept entertained by good flights of Paradise Shelduck, but where were the geese?! We had watched them the evening before, and normally you can set your watch by them. Not today. We needn't have worried. It wasn't long before we had geese coming in from all directions, we didn't know where to look. A good number of birds were roosting quite close to us, and the shooting put them off, but thankfully, either they came back, or birds came in off another roost to give us a great evening shoot on the stubble.

Dave, Dan and Paul with a great mixed bag on the stubble

A day of anticipation

We were on a huge buzz.
The previous days hunt on Canada geese was one for the books, and now we were heading from the coastline of Canterbury, to the Canterbury High Country. Along for the trip were Dave and Paul from the previous day, and coming along on his first hunt with me, Dan, and old mate from Rugby.

Heading to the new farm is a journey, in every sense of the word.

Passing through flat fields, before the rolling foot hills, following raging braided rivers, before arriving in the Canterbury High Country - home to Himalayan Tahr, Chamoi, Red Deer and...Game Birds . Today, no rifles were packed in, but we had a trailer loaded with blinds, Goose and Parrie decoys, and a tonne of food - who new how long we were going to be up here! its such a huge place, who knows what you can find? It was time to start looking!

Before we had even arrived at the farm we were to shoot, we passed a field of crops on a neighbouring property that just screamed GEESE. I sat up in my seat a little stranger and asked Paul to stop. I scanned the paddock for birds...nothing. Jumping back in, we were almost passed the last of the crop paddocks when we glanced right and saw a paddock full of geese!

The small mob at the top of the valley

I quickly doubled back to the farm house and found no one home. I left a note, left a message, sent an email, I did everything but dispatch a carrier pigeon to find them, and if I had one I would have. Leaving that hunt to work itself out, we headed further into the hills. Arriving right on time, we did a quick scout,  but after seeing a good number of birds further down the valley, we weren't expecting to see much up here. Sure enough, we did find geese, by but Mr farmer told me they had "dropped in numbers" just the last day or two".

I told him what we had found down the valley, and he agreed to try and track his neighbours down for us while we had a go at what remained on his place. After that, we set the decoys up ready for a morning hunt, then went to our favourite scouting spot, had a cold beer and thought about the mornings hunt, and if we would be lucky enough to gain access to the other farm while we were there.

Possibly the best place to scout birds from...anywhere in the world. Paul, Dan, Myself and Dave enjoying a cold beer after a day on the road, and behind the binoculars and spotting scope

When it rains....

Mid February and March of 2015 saw a very strange period of weather, that all in all, wasn't great for anybody, including hunters.

Where farmers wanted days of sunshine to help get the crops off the fields, they got rain. Where farmers wanted rain to get clover and grass going, they got draught. As such, some birds were late arriving, and others were early.

And you guessed it, they all turned up at once...everywhere.

The next four days were to see us shoot an incredible amount of birds, spread over more than 100 kilometres, on three different farms, with 7 different Hunters.

But it had to begin somewhere, and it was the same fields that we shot our first lot of geese on for the year!

The sun rise of the first morning of our 4 day hunting trip really set the scene. Amazing!

By the time the magnificent sun rise was up, the 6 of us all ready had a decent bag of birds on the ground. They came in for most of the morning, flying off their roost on a nearby estuary as the tide pushed them off, and their belly's told them it was feeding time.

We had some much larger mobs come in on this day, and prior scouting had shown that we could expect birds wanting to feed in different areas of the property. For this reason, we ran two spreads of decoys. Running two teams of hunters is always a risk, but in our experience, once the birds in this area have been hunted once, its nice to give them two options to pick from. We have been doing it long enough that we don't compete with one an other too much...

This day showed again the value of two spreads, with smaller groups committing well to one spread, while the larger mobs preferred another.

Our crew of 6 and our great morning flight bag from both spreads

Experience and prior scouting had shown that the birds coming in for the evening flight preferred one particular field, so Decoys from one of the morning spots were picked up, and a photo of the mornings bag taken.

After packing away the mornings work, the 6 of us slid into our blinds, wondering what we might pick up in the evening. At the end of a solid day in the field, both spreads, with three hunters each had bagged over 100 geese that morning, and with the a good evening flight, the days total pushed 300. |It was a quick cleaning session, because tomorrow, we are heading somewhere totally different!

The end of a great evening flight and an amazing day on the geese.

The honkers are here.

After cleaning the ducks, guns and ourselves after a hot afternoon and evening chasing parries, we eventually made it to bed, but not before setting the iPhone alarm for 2:30am. Don't get me wrong, I love new technology, but there's something so depressing about being told, just as you've set your alarm, that it will be going off in 4 hours and 11 minutes.

After the nameless tune woke us up, it was a quick breakfast before we hit the road. At this point w were pretty happy we had taken the Full body goose decoys down two days previously. It was all ready quite warm at 4am, but the forecasted wind was blowing, all but a little less powerful than we would like.

The 100+ mix of Avery, Hard Core and Dakota full body and shell decoys were set up on their stands, and with just a hint of movement on the bases, we got our callers ready, tucked our selves into the blinds and waited.

I don't know if we were lucky, but what I do know for a fact, is we spent several days scouting the fields, then had the patience to wait for the right day, and our eyes were well and truly in after the duck shoot, just a few hours before.

The results for our first Goose hunt of the year were more than we had hoped. They glided in beautifully into the decoys, with just enough wind to give them something to push into. While some of the big mobs didn't commit, Carl and I still called  plenty of great sized mobs right onto the "X". The boys did the rest.

Paul, George, Myself, James, Carl and Dave with a great bag of honkers.

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.