Aiming high for charity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

"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

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..