To: Bittersweet Buffalo, Part #1

Charl arrived at the house and we plan out the safari. We are going to hunt buffalo in Zambia this year, and the deposit is paid, done deal. We planned on a 21-day safari so that I could also take in 4 countries and gather more information and knowledge of Africa. 

At the AMO show my girlfriend advises me that she too is going to attempt the Cape this year. We had lengthy conversations about equipment choices, shot placement and animal behavior. I advised her on broadheads, bow choices and what the regulations required for her to become successful. I gave her all the information I had compiled over the past 2 years hoping for her success. 

From the beginning I had wanted to start a consulting firm specializing in women. That was to test and modify equipment and open the doors for women so if they attempted a Cape buffalo, or any animal normally not hunted by women their goal would be easier to attain than mine. So Hunters Vision was formed with that exact goal in mind. 

However, all things cannot run smooth now; which brings us to the next challenge in my quest. A few months after the AMO show the country of Zambia started having political problems. The President had decided to shut down hunting on all public concessions, yet private concessions were still open. I was to hunt a privately owned ranch, so with fingers crossed, it was still a go. 

Charl had just set out for Zimbabwe on a leopard safari and would return soon and then we'd contact on final arrangements. In the first week of May, I got notice that Zambia had shut down all hunting, yet they were lobbying the President for a special permit for us to hunt, I was still hoping to be lucky. 

I got a call from Charl upon his return. He said he was sick with what he thought was tick fever, but assured me that all would be normal upon my arrival, not to worry. Yet, two days later I get another call from his very worried fiancé. 

"Charl has cerebral malaria," she said, "and another strain also." 

This didn't look good. My dear friend is lying in the hospital in intensive care fighting for his life and the hunt somehow now holds no importance. 

As if things couldn't get worse, Zambia shut down completely to all sorts of hunting. 

I have two weeks before I am to embark. I try to change my tickets, but had purchased them through an auction so that option was not available. I am working desperately, pooling all of my resources of Outfitters that I have met over the years and trying desperately to put a hunt together. Rossi, a very good friend of Charl's, is working overtime to help along with good personal friend Hennie on the RSA side. My feelings are torn; I want to press on, yet I don't want to hunt the buffalo without Charl.

 Now I am thinking that my platter is pretty full here and my spirituality is being taxed when I receive another call from my good friend and she is in the RSA. 

Needless to say, she had the first buffalo by a woman on the ground. Though I was happy for her I found myself in shock... and completely ready to throw in the towel. 

"What now?" I asked the Great Spirit. His answer was two words, One was "doubt", the other "torrent" and their meaning I was to figure out later.

A few days before I am to leave Charl recovers through answered prayers, from the many friends and relatives he has. I am still worried however and fear that he will not be strong enough to embark on our journey.

The first day of safari is spent sitting down in his office planning the details. We decide to visit Kruger Park first, giving us both a few more days of rest.  He had found a buffalo in a concession bordering the Malelane gate of the Kruger Park so we would work our way down to there. First goal on the agenda was to see an elephant.

Stress wasn't allowed in any conversations and we did exactly what we wanted to do. Accompanying us was my cameraman/vidoeographer, Brian Norton, who sparks a wonderful sense of humor setting the pace for the 1st part of the safari.

Onward and forward we progressed to the Olifants camp. Slightly in a daydream atmosphere there he was, a big, beautiful bull elephant. He was facing a bush busily eating away and then he finally turned. This gentle giant was adorned by a handsome set of ivories that hung halfway to the ground. Oh yes, I knew this was going to be a successful safari, I had just "seen the elephant".

We find ourselves at the Malelane gate after 3 days in Kruger Park. All of us, Charl, Brian and myself are feeling rested and ready for some action. 

We are met at the gate by Tienie and his son Abbie, the owners and operators of Steyn Safaris. These are the outfitters that run the concession we will be using in our hunt. Our crew is taken to the Gazebo, a game reserve that will be acting as host to us for the next few days of our safari. 

We all meet outside and are talking about their previous hunt. It seems they had had some problem with penetration on the last hunt however, I explained to them that I was using a Muzzy head that had been designed especially for this hunt and that I had proven this new design's effectiveness and durability last year on the Cape buffalo and a North American Bison. Finally with some fancy talking and pleading we got the permit issued and I was on my way.

 The first day we came upon two large dagga boys (old buffalo that have been pushed out of the herd). The wind is perfect and blowing in our faces, so Charl and I got down off the cruiser and headed out. 

The younger of the two bulls was quite aggressive for as we approach even from the distance of 150 yards he is mock charging. Then he'd hook the older bull, pushing him out of the area. We push these two fine bulls for a short period of time, but each time we get a little closer the more aggressive the younger gets. At one point he is no longer lifting his nose to us, but is constantly charging forward with boss down.

Later in the day these same bulls meet up with a small herd of buffalo and they put on quite a show. As we approach a younger bull is pushed out toward us, I could have shot this bull under 20 yards, but elect to turn down the shot. Our scent along with it being breeding season and the invasion of two bulls get the whole herd in a frenzy. 

They start running in big circles. The herd bull, very annoyed, is hooking and shoving the new bulls out. He hooks the aggressive intruder in the stomach and lifts him completely off the ground pushing him out of the herd, then returns for the other bull. This is amazing to witness and once again instills in me the need for precaution when hunting with primitive equipment.

 The next day we are met by David, the tracker, saying a big lone bull is bedded down on a creek bed. We spot him through the binoculars and make a plan. Charl and I will make our way through the reeds and swamp and come in downwind of him and hopefully get a shot. So... we start out crawling through very thick reeds, visibility is nil. We are being navigated by hand signals from Abbie standing on the cab of the truck. We lose visibility of the truck as we make the final approach on the sleeping bull. 

Charl is thinking we should be pretty close now and takes the chance of standing up and looking over the reeds. His eyes widen. We had literally stalked right on top of the bull and he lies less than 8 yards away. I stand to get a look at him and see he is exactly broadside of me, but I would have to stand to shoot to clear the reeds with the arrow. We are debating on taking that chance because his escape route would be to come over the top of us after the shot. 

 All of a sudden the wind changes and he gets a good whiff of us and decides to stand up checking the wind. All I can see now in the horizon is boss and I am thinking, "We are sitting ducks". 

Luckily the wind changes once again and he settles back down, but this time when he lies he faces us. So we make a plan to back out quietly and try a different approach. 

When we return to the truck Abbie's face is white: "Did you guys know how close you were?"

 The second attempt at stalking fails, but what excitement we are experiencing. That evening we spot him again in the swamps. We swim a large irrigation canal twice trying to get within shooting range, but the setting sun catches us and it is time to call it a day.

 On to our 3rd day of hunting and the shot. That morning our hunting party meets up with David. He had spotted the bull and knew its exact location. Let me explain that it took us all night to dry out our boots from our previous night's swim. You guessed it; the first thing we did was swim the canal once again. Abbie being a fine Afrikaans gentleman offered to carry me across on his back, which I politely turned down. 

We are on the spoor, following this old lone bull to bed. We are about 60 yards away from him laying out our plan for the final approach and shot placement. 

Just as we start to execute the plan, he either hears or winds us and he stands, catching us in the open with only the long grasses for cover. He faces us off at 25 yards, and we all freeze on our knees, not even batting an eyelash. 

Then in my amazement he turns to leave on the game trail presenting himself directly broadside. In one movement I am standing and drawing my bow. I take two steps to my left to get the arrow clearance past a bush. The bull looks straight at me as my pin rests on his shoulder, the string releases, sending the arrow home.

The arrow makes a loud whack upon impact and I know I had hit bone, but still witnessed good penetration. So just for precaution I load another arrow and at 55 yards I allow the second one to fly, catching a quartering away shot, entering the paunch and into the liver. 

 This old bull is mine... I remember thinking. 

Wait, there is a disagreement between us; of where that first arrow hit and how much penetration. Nothing comes easy in this story, now does it? The bull beds down about 60 yards away.  We decide to back out to let him relax and give him time to expire. Any bowhunter knows this is the most agonizing time of the hunt... the wait after the shot.

Returning to the truck we are joking and laughing, hoping we have a successful bow harvest. Then Charl being a very charming man looks at Abbie and says, "You see that woman there, I'd do anything for her."

I am thinking "Oh how sweet." 

Then he says "But you offering to carry her across the canal was beyond the call of duty." We all laugh and I punch him in the arm.

Later that evening we went back and found the buffalo and just for precaution at 25 yards I put another arrow in him from the opposing side, it buried out of sight. He had already expired. 

The first arrow had penetrated both lungs after hitting a rib dead center. The Muzzy head had done its job and re-instated the broadhead for use in the province.

Now it was time for photos and celebrating. 

I searched around the hunting party and finally found Charl's face and both of us had tears welling in our eyes. We had our buffalo, our bittersweet buffalo. He was a sweet harvest with much sacrifice on both parts. Which brings us full circle to the beginning, the setting of the beautiful African sun and this final thought and chapter.

I cannot write this without the tears flowing down my face. Each and every one of us played an important part in the harvest of the buffalo. 

This was not a "me" harvest, but a "we" harvest. This bittersweet buffalo made each of us face challenges we never thought were possible and also presented each of us with a sacrifice for the success of the hunt. 

The two words that were given to me by the Great Spirit were "doubt" and "torrent". If you doubt, you set yourself to limitations, and doubting your ability makes you foolish, and you compromise your ethics and standards. The second word, torrent means a flood of water rushing, cleaning out debris. In my case it was water built by strength, determination and spirituality. 

Through this quest I found myself doubting the Great Spirit's path he held for me and making my own path, therefore ending in judgment calls and sometimes lessons learned. But with sticking by my faith and with the support of my family and friends, I have been flooded with good fortune and have reached the final chapter to the story of the bittersweet buffalo. I feel I can stand now with pride knowing I have sacrificed and done it right in the true spirit of the hunt.

To: Bittersweet Buffalo, Part #1

Authors Note:
A special thanks for all who were involved in this hunt. First my family, Tim and my two sons Ross, Kye.  If it wasn't for their support and their sacrifice I couldn't have accomplished such a feat. Also my mother, sisters, and my in-laws Tom and Margie, along with my nephew Brett, for putting up with my obsession. My special friends that have grown so tired of hearing me talk about the buffalo hunt, Cheryl, Robin, Animal, Pam, Ann, Steve, David, Wendy, Ken, Peggy, Chenee, Sherry, Brian, Fina, Hennie, Corne, Rossi and Marius. Of course the extra outfitter Tienie and Abbie of Steyn Safaris and their trackers. Lastly, to a special friend and PH Charl Watts, Caracal Hunting Safaris,  for without his professional knowledge and his patience this wouldn't have been possible. Each person holds such significance in my life, thanks to you all.

Equipment Choices.

• High Country - Four Runner Bow with Double Cam technology.
• Easton Aluminum -  ACC 3-71Õs Modified to weigh 595 gr.
• Muzzy Products for their innovative new buffalo Broadhead 125 gr. 2 blade
• Mossy Oak
• Scent Lok
• Western Filament - Nitro String Material
• Scott Archery - Lil Goose release
• Golden Key Futura - Tranquilizer Stabilizer and Golden Premier rest

Thanks Marttie, Randy, Michele, Mary Jane, George, Rex, 
and Robert.

For more info go to: www.africanbowhunter.com

Reprinted from AFRICA'S BOWHUNTER Magazine