Simon Freeman & More Happy Hunters

A great trip. Met some really good blokes, and enjoyed witnessing Rames and Karls first deer experiences as if they were my own.

The next day the hunters head out at dawn and it's not too long before their dogs are onto a pig. It's down a steep gully and they race through the bush to help their dogs - and the dogs need help - it's a big old boar with a huge set of tusks.

 

This was to be a trip of good bastards, and it was in Taupo that we met our first good bastard. Chris from Taupo Air Services. The guy looked as genuinely sorry as we did  when he broke the news that we wouldn’t be flying anywhere due to the thick low cloud, that was also sadly increasing. The second good bastard of the trip and owner of Tangahoe Station, Dave Davey, also arrived about this time from his home in Cambridge. Dave was coming into the block with us hence his arrival.

A few calls to Mountain Air at Whakapapa turned in the same result, thick cloud and rain and no flights. The only option, although a few extra pingers, was a chopper from Taumarunui. Enter the next good bastard. Keith, owner of Fly My Sky in Taumaruinui. With only an hours notice, we were met by a waiting chopper, a good handshake, and a cuppa. A quick load up in ever increasing rain and it was off, gaining altitude then following pretty closely to the Whanganui River for about 25 minutes, mainly due to visibility, until Tangahoe Station came into view.

Karl shares the same low maintenace hairdo as myself, and we reckoned that Rames looked like a victim of some white supremicists in between the two of us Karl, Rambo, and me at Taumarunui.



Tangahoe Station is best described as an oasis in tiger country – what I mean is that all of a sudden, in heavy steep, gullied terrain, appears this lush farmland area, up on the tops, completely surrounded by mile upon mile of National Park. The farm was originally broken in around 1880, and found its way into the Davey family in the late 1930’s. The Davey family, continued to develop the farm and raise there family. Education of their kids however meant that they later moved from inhabiting the farm full time.  40 odd years ago Howard's son, Dave, took over the reins of the running and upkeep of the property. Dave, with a few good bastard mates, built a simple, but warm and inviting dwelling on the property to use as his base when on the farm, and for visitors, family and friends to use.

Whilst it’s a farm, theres absolutely no fences between the farm and the National Parks that completely surround it. Sure theres a few fences on the farm to separate the stock that Dave runs there. As Dave says, the sheep cant go anywhere due to the farms natural boundaries by way of Rivers and terrain, and quite simply the sheep don’t want to go anywhere, why would they. The benefit of this, which is where I’m heading with this description, is that the bambi’s also find the farm and its bush edges equally as appealing. The predominant deer is Fallow, with good supporting numbers of Reds as well. Pigs are also in decent numbers on the property.

Anyway, that’s the history lesson and description finished for now.

I had two bambi virgins with me.  Rames the blood thirsty Malay was damn near frothing at the mouth after his ‘deerless’ trip into the Kawekas with me and had been having restless nights for about 4 days before this trip because he was so excited. Karl whilst not at the frothing stage, nor the release of any other bodily fluids, was never the less also very keen to nail his first deer and put some meat on the table.

After a cuppa, and in a decent downpour, we decided an afternoon stretch was in order. Dave kindly offered to show us a few valleys and and clearings that he favoured. The farm contains quite lieterally all types of terrain - scrub, clearings, open, thick bush, open bush gullies and valleys etc etc etc. There was decent amounts of deer sign, but what really stood out was the pig rooting, shitloads of it. We checked several bush edges that just screamed deer, but not when we were there. We discussed sitting and watching a few, but decided to enjoy the walk and carry on. After a bit of sidle to get the wind right we hunted up on another saddle when Dave gave Rames a wink. His time had come. 200m away were 4 Fallow feeding on the scrub and fern edge. Dave and Karl opted to sit back and enjoy the show whilst I was left with escorting Rames to a closer and better shooting spot. I felt like Evander Holyfields corner man walking behind him, quietly muttering advice in his ear, and threats of the walk home he would have if he missed. Rames had my .2506 and I carried the 300, for ‘insurance’.  

A five minute stalk down into a depression and up the other side resulted in my white, and his brown head, peering cautiously over the ridge and sweeeeet, there were 4 Fallow arses looking at us not not more than 50m away. I whispered to Rames to silently set up but to wait for a broadside shot. He held his nerve and no doubt his buck fever and we waited for probably 2 minutes until the closest one conveniently turned side on enough for me to give Rames a nod. For the briefest of split seconds I had taken my eye off the deer when he fired and was surprised to see the deer saunter off at a decent canter looking quite fit and healthy. I think poor Rames had expected that all shot animals drop like a sack of shit and an incredulous look appeared on his face when this didn’t occur, "its getting away Simon" he screamed like it was a million dollars on legs. I knew it wasn’t going to go far, especially as it had it was by now staggering towards a small isolated patch of scrub and looking a wee drunk. Oh well fark it I thought, conscious of the fact that Rames hadn’t put another one up the spout in the excitement, so gave the poor animal a 300 injection which promptly sealed its fate. Inspection of the animal actually showed Rames shot had been bang on, and whislt the deer make 30m before I intervened, it would have been all over anyway.

There is no word in the dictionary to desribe the c**ts jubilation and I feared he may even attempt a backflip several times so i asked him to recheck the gun. It was farken funny, but also great to see. You could have been forgiven for mistakenly thinking he’d just been reincarnated as a supermodels G string. His cheesy grin never left his face.

First blood



We pointed out that the you shot it, you gut it rule applied and promptly threw him a knife. It all went pretty well with a few tips and plenty of ribbing from the rest of us until it came time to arse hole it. He hadn’t cut it quite free and when pulling back through and left a few droppings in the hole. He gingerly poked and prodded  clearing it until we gave him so much shit that the poking and prodding went up to about 20mph. The rest of us were trying so hard not to laugh behind his back we were actually crying – Karl even suggested that going by the amount of time he had spent on the orifice, maybe he would like us to turn our backs while had had a quiet moment with it. Finally however, the poor carcass was hung in a tree for pickup in the morning. It was an interesting but uneventful walk back to the house until Karl came up with the comment that he bet that Fallow deer didn’t realize when it woke up this morning that by nightfall it would be being buggered by an Indian Malay.




I’d like to tell you that we had a meal of mild, or even medium hotness, but sadly it would be a lie. Rames again knocked up a screamer, that with the wood range pumping, soon had us all down to t shirts. A few medicinal shots and it was time to dream of tomorrow.

We were away about 7ish and split up, myself and Rames hunting one side of the block, and Karl and Dave taking the quad over to the other for a hunt, and to pick up Rames buggered deer.

We were watching a likely looking bush face in heavy mist and rain when Rames noticed movement and soon a red hind, followed by her master soon emerged. Rames eyes went like desert bowls at the sight of his first stag. The head was however nothing to write home about looking to be quite tall and only about 6 points with no palms of any sort. I was hoping for something a wee larger and decided to let the two deer carry on their way for another day. It took me a fair few sentences to convince Rames just to sit and watch them until they cut our scent and vanished. It was good for him though and although there was a few seconds of disbelief we hadn’t shot them, he also appreciated the concept and really enjoyed just watching them.

I was seriously surprised when the rest of the morning didn’t result in any more deer sightings, despite hunting quietly into some lovely open bush covered in feed, and a heap of sign. We arrived back at the same time as Karl and Dave and the smile on Kalrs face and 8 deer legs on the quad said it all. Awesome, 2 virgins blooded within 1 day. Karls Fellow had been shot bedded down at about 150m with Daves 270. Another shot at a second fleeing deer had missed.

Karls hind



Rames was jabbering to Karl about me losing my marbles for not having shot a stag that had antlers up to the sky ( I’d love to show him a Wapiti!!!). Daves got a good sized meatsafe with room to move so the skins were whipped off and the meat left to set.

I passed up another opportunioty that afternoon for a Fallow hind still waiting for something with a rack, and hopefully a Red, so Dave suggested we try a gully at the bottom of the property that would hopefully be holding a few reds on evening. We set up at the top of a big gully with large views for about 180degrees. Dave might be nearing 60, but fark me, his eyesight was good and he soon picked out a few blobs of moving tussock that proved to be Fallow. With light now rapidly closing and a departure tomorrow, I decided to grab one for the pot. It was decided that I would take off to the left for 30mionutes then back down into the gully, all in view of the guys a few hundred metres above me watching the show through scopes and binoculars. All was going pretty well, until in a flat about 200m just above the deer in a shallow depression where I came across about 30 sheep that if I carried on on the path i was on, would spook the shit out of the rest of the gully. I had to skirt off through thick fern and scrub so as to conceal my approach. The wind was all over the place which didn’t help matters, and I had visions of farking everything up in view of all the eyes above. The gods however smiled and I managed to crawl up the last face and there were 5 black fallow hinds feeding happily. Right I thought to myself, I want something young and tender ( i tell my wife that regularly too!!) and gave the yearling closest to me a bang to the shoulder. The other deer weren’t actually sure where the shot had come from and dashed into some cover at the bottom of a rock face only to bluff themselves. I’d stood up and was walking to my deer when I saw ther legs milling back and forth unable to go anywhere. One decided that reverse was the best option, and promptly presented itself for another shot, earning a trip to the meatsafe for the mistake.

my 2 freezer fillers



Dave yelled oiut to wait there, as he could get the quad quite close which suited me fine, - gotta love those quads! What a good bastard

Sunday was cleanup and butcher day, but Dave, being the good bastard that he is, told us 3 to fark off and have 1 last quick hunt whilst he butchered. Visibilty was about 100m in thick very wet fog resulting in  a missed running shot at a Red with what looked like a decent enough head.  

Right on extraction time, as the planes motor came into airshot, a dirty big clound enveloped the farm and surrounding area. Poor Chris from had to circle the block for about 20 minutes, waiting for a brief window to get in and out. Finally we were on our way.

A great trip. Met some really good blokes, and enjoyed witnessing Rames and Karls first deer experiences as if they were my own...