by Cliff Hall
Like most folks I know, I grew up hunting with my father and big game was whitetail deer. My only knowledge of Plains Big Game in Africa came from Mutual of Omaha’s television show Animal Kingdom, hosted by Marlin Perkins.
I was in awe of the size and prowess of these animals but never dreamed that one day I would get to go on a real safari hunting adventure. Fast forward nearly 58 years and I found myself sitting at a Delta Waterfowl banquet table in early August of 2021. Coaxed by a few of my hunting co-workers, I had reluctantly agreed to attend. Reluctantly because I was still in the middle of recovering from shock and grief due to my wife of 29 years’ recent and untimely death in a motor vehicle accident just outside our home in Tyler, Texas. The accident occurred in early March of that year. As a new widower with three young adult children, anything fun just didn’t appeal to me. I suppose that’s why God gives you good friends, to pick you up, slap you on the butt, and help you get moving again.
I had been to a few of these fund-raising banquets before, usually only to eat some good southern food or wild game and watch everyone else empty their bank accounts on everything from duck calls to pheasant hunts. Tonight was no exception. I’d estimate the crowd at 300 plus. The food was catered catfish and hushpuppies, and the beer was flowing. I generally limit myself to a C-note for these types of “good causes” spending it on raffle tickets mostly. Well, the evening was wearing on and my raffle tickets were coming up empty, no surprise, and I felt myself getting weary of the crowd, especially the auctioneer. The event was supposed to be wrapping up around 9:30, and it was just past that time and he had several more big ticket items yet to auction off. However, because most of the now slightly enubilated crowd had already successfully high-bid smaller items such as knives and shotguns, these larger value items were not getting much traction from the group. Next up on the auction block was a 4-person, 7-day, South Africa Plains game safari trip. Undaunted by the crowds’ lack of enthusiasm, the auctioneer called for a starting bid of $4000. Unbelievably, it took a few calls for a hand to go up. Moving right in sync the next call was for $4500, and again, it was slow going but the next hand finally went up. I was now feeling a bit irritated with the auctioneer because I was ready to go home. I guess I could have just packed up and left, but it was as if something was gluing me to my seat. Inevitably the bid reached $6000. I had had enough! I thrust my hand up in the air and said, “Come on. Let’s go” and instantly I had the high bid. Fine, I thought, I had done my part, we’re finally getting this show on the road (and me too!). I honestly don’t remember much that happened after that. I had tuned out the auction altogether until I heard the words “Sold for $6000 to the gentlemen at this table.” “What did he say?” I asked my buddies. “You just bought a safari trip son” came the reply almost in unison from my now grinning friends. Before I could say “I did what?” a pretty young lady in a halter top and a very short skirt was handing me a pen and a pink slip of paper asking for my credit card and my signature. Almost numb now, mouth dropped fully open, I thought “Dear Lord, what did I just do?”
A few weeks after the fog had cleared, I contacted Restless Africa Safari Outfitters of South Africa. Restless Africa Safari is owned and operated by Donovan Steynberg, a well-seasoned native South African professional hunter. The hunt was set for mid-May. The four hunters would include myself, my two sons Joey (21), and Joshua (18), and my father-in-law Ron. There are a lot of little decisions that you need to make in planning a big trip like a safari. First would be choosing an outfitter, but fortunately, that was already done, and after interviewing other American hunters who had used Donovan before, I was relieved to get nothing but A+ ratings. The second important decision involves weapons. While hunting with your own guns may be comfortable and appealing, moving them across the pond and through various airports can be tricky and even risky. We decided to rent guns from our outfitter. The prices were reasonable and affordable, plus it was just one less expensive piece of baggage to worry about. Third, there is the decision of which animals you want to hunt. At first, this list of 50 possible animals is both stunning and a bit overwhelming. In Texas, you typically hunt one big game species per hunt, and your biggest decision revolves around the antler spread and age of the animal. Africa gives a hunter plenty of choices, all of which come with a price! At this point, with your outfitter booked, plane tickets purchased, and mind on “go” you just adopt the “once in a lifetime” mentality and bite the bullet, so to speak. We decided what would be reasonable, not insane, and each picked 3-4 animals from the list. With the major decisions made months in advance of the hunt, we kept our fingers crossed that there wouldn’t be another surge of COVID and waited.
May 15, 2022, couldn’t have come soon enough. Joshua had graduated from high school that morning, and that evening we were on our way to Africa. Almost 25 hours later we landed in Johannesburg. We were picked up by our outfitter and shortly later were sighting our rifles in on the private concession’s range. Traveling had gone smoothly, and the weather was a welcomed 52 degrees. My first thought about this Northwest region of South Africa was how much it resembled the Hill Country of Texas. Dry and scrubby trees and bushes, combined with rolling hills of native grasses. Not the Tarzan or Jungle Book terrain that one imagines from our childhood. Like the Hill Country, it is beautiful in its own way. Our lodging was in the renovated original farmhouse of the concession we were hunting on. Spacious relaxing and comfortable, it was more than adequate for the week. The package included three mouth-watering meals a day, all prepared by a local cook. Wild ostrich freely roamed the grounds near the home, just as curious about us as we were about them.
Our hunting was done mainly via the spot and stalk method, mostly using 4-wheel drive trucks with bed-mounted seats. Each morning and afternoon our party would divide up with either Donovan or Schalk, our Professional Hunter (PH) in pursuit of animals on our list. We would be hunting with two different rifles provided by Donovan. The .270 was an STA Barbara-Spain, fitted with a Vortex Copperhead 3-9 x 40 scope. The .375 H&H was a Browning A-bolt action, fitted with a Leupold VX-Freedom 3-9 x 40 scope. Upon arrival, we each had a chance to fire the guns at the range until we were comfortable up to 300 yards. The concession was large enough that there was little, if any, chance of our paths crossing during each hunt. Some days we hunted two different locations depending on the animals we were trying to locate.
The first day was clear and cool. In search of a nice Sable, it only took a couple of hours of glassing a small hilly area with scrub brush and small trees to spot a trophy-sized Sable. We stalked on foot to within 75 yards and the uphill shot was dead-on. My son Joey was with me that day in pursuit of a Gemsbok, but that morning none was to be found. He did however take a very old and weary Red Hartebeest that the guide noted to need being put down as a cull for the preserve. The other half of our party had success as well. Ron shooting a nice Gemsbok and Josh taking a beautiful large bull Kudu. Although the Kudu wasn’t on his original list, with persuasion from Donovan he didn’t pass it up.
The morning of day two was cold and foggy. Undeterred we set out again in search of another Gemsbok for Joey. This day it didn’t take long at all and within ten minutes of glassing, he located and shot it at 100 yards. Hunting a Blue Wildebeest was a bit more of a challenge for me. We had glassed a nice herd with a larger older bull running the cows. He was smart, however, and rarely isolated himself from the middle of the herd. It took stalking him on two different occasions before I was able to put him down with a shot at 175 yards. Ron and Josh spent the morning hunting for Springbok and Impala, both of which we had seen plenty of the day before. But, like the Gemsbok of the first day, the Springbok antelope had disappeared. Josh was more fortunate and had the opportunity to shoot a nice Impala buck at 60 yards after missing another altogether at a closer range. We spent the rest of the day chasing a huge Waterbuck that Joey wanted to take, but he proved to be wary and elusive. With the weather turning drizzly and colder, we called it a day early. That evening was spent inside by the fireplace after we had finished a nice meal of ham shanks and pumpkin fritters.
We were learning how quickly the weather can change in Africa, reminiscent of East Texas, as day three of the hunt brought a bluebird sky and cooler weather. Luckily, we had packed a good bit of cold weather clothing and were layered up and ready. We traveled about an hour this day to an entirely different hunting concession that contained more mountainous terrain. This area was known to have several trophy Kudu, and that was at the top of my own list. We spent all morning driving and glassing the hills, spotting only one small cow and a small bull. After lunch, Donovan decided that my best chance at a bull would be to hunt from a blind that was set up at the edge of a meadow of alfalfa and Japanese radishes. The landowner had said that he had seen a large bull Kudu grazing there in the evenings. I decided to sit and wait with Donovan that evening. The rest of our party drove back to the concession where we were staying to pursue other game. After sitting in the blind for over an hour, we began to see some action in the fading daylight. First, a small Warthog skirted the far side of the field, then a lone Jackal. About thirty minutes before dusk, a few Kudu began to appear grazing slowly on the edge of the meadow. All were small cows and bulls initially. Finally, two large bull Kudu approached from my left, the second one being of trophy size. The bull was at about 100 yards and steadily moving more in front of the blind. I was standing and leaning over a small table in the blind because sitting on the stool wasn’t an option as it was too short. Excited and trying to line up the bull in the scope of the .375 H&H, I somehow failed to notice how close I was to the scope. As soon as I fired the gun, I felt intense pain in my right eye and saw darkness. I knew immediately that the scope had hit my eye because of the blood running down my face. I heard Donovan say, “I’m looking for blood” (obviously referring to the Kudu) and I said, “It’s all over my face!” Laughing he said, “It was a great shot” and that the bull was down. I was really in too much pain to be excited, almost crying, but not with tears of joy! Quickly, we exited the blind and took the truck to retrieve the Kudu as it was now nearly dark. The bull was indeed large, 51-inch horns. After a couple of quick pictures, we went to work loading it in the truck with the winch. As soon as we got it loaded, we noticed that one of the truck’s tires had gone flat! Ugh! Now in the dark, we fortunately were able to change the tire (without unloading the 600 lb Kudu). My eye continued to throb as we made our way back to the camp.
Meanwhile, that evening, Ron and Joey were successful as well. Ron had taken a nice Springbok at 300 yards, and Joey had finally shot the large Waterbuck that had eluded him previously. He had shot it at about 70 yards, but it ran into the thick bush. Luckily the tracking dog found it quickly just before dark. The Waterbuck was beautiful with 31-inch horns. Back at the camp house, the boy’s helped clean up my eye, which fortunately wasn’t as bad as it could have been. A cut below the eyebrow and a corneal abrasion surmized the damage. Although we didn’t have much in the way of medication, ibuprofen and Jack Daniels provided enough comfort to allow me some rest after a long, exciting, and productive day.
The cold and wet weather persisted most of the last two days of the hunt. When we did hunt, I was able to protect the eye somewhat from the wind with my sunglasses. Still the wind felt like sandpaper at times, and my vision was at times partially impaired. I did however manage to stalk and shoot a very nice Impala buck with the .270 at 240 yards. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my cleanest shot, and the tracking dog certainly earned its meal that day tracking the animal for about forty-five minutes and several hundred yards. Josh took a nice Blesbok with a good clean shot. The weather stymied us for the last day and a half, but the rest was welcomed by all. We met with the local taxidermist to discuss and finalize our mounting options. At the end of the week, we had taken 14 animals and pretty much fulfilled our individual desires, except for a nice Warthog. According to our professional hunter, they had not seen trophy sized Warthogs in the past month. We had seen several smaller ones but decided to pass on them.
The morning of the last day was spent packing, settling our debts with Donovan, and travelling to Johannesburg for the long flight home. It had been a great week, filled with adventure, fellowship, and stories for great memories. Having never really planned for such a trip with my sons, I was indeed thankful for the bonding time, of which you never can really get enough of. And, I was also grateful that they could experience yet one more hunt with their papaw Ron. Looking back with the trip now in the not-so-distant past, I see it as a God given opportunity for our family to further heal from the loss of my wife. I am indeed grateful that Africa helped restore the much-needed joy that comes from hunting and the love of the outdoors.
