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

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

"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..

Garrigill Grousing - Day 2

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

Steven, after we were both promoted!

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

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

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

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

Flushing Pheasants in Cumbria

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

It was hard, and it was hurting!

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

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

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

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

My first day hunting outside of New Zealand

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

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

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

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

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

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

Last pull of the trigger

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

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

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

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

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

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

First a drought, then too much Rain!

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

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

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

A pair of Cape Baron Geese

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

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

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

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

Sunday School

The Sunday of opening weekend is ALWAYS a big day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The 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.

Practice makes perfect.

With the new season just around the corner, and with Bailie showing a little interest in picking up the shotgun and having a go, it was time to set up the clay target traps, and do some shooting!

Its not the first time Bailie and I have shot clays, and I brought her a handy we 20ga last year so she could start off with a nice fitting gun.

Paul, Haydon, Bailie and I spent the day at my cousin Haydon's, shooting a home built simulated field sporting circuit he and I put together.

After ploughing through several hundred rounds at targets from all aspects, the blue cod and crayfish (Lobster) we caught the day before was thrown on the BBQ for a well deserved feed.

Who says practice isn't worth while!