The Ostrich Egg Omelet

Our morning hunt on the fith day was unsuccessful, we didn't even spot any animals. No jackals had come to our bait laid out the previous day. But the evening was when things got interesting!

We spent what must have been hours stalking oryx to shoot one for meat, with no luck, things seemed dismal. Yakub radioed Francis t bring over the truck, and we were happy to rest. Once again, there seemed to be no animals out... Until we rolled right by an Oryx just standing near the dirt road.

Yakub signaled to Francis to stop the truck, and placed the rifle on the pick up's railing.

"Take it," Yakub told Jason quietly.

The Oryx just seemed to look at us blankly until the shot went off. It fell down from the impact, then ran off. We all vaulted over the truck railing and ran after it, finding the Oryx lying dead only a few meters away from where it had been standing. Jason had delivered a perfect shot!

 We drove back to the lodge, and I was allowed to participate in the skinning. Which, surprisingly, is not as hard as it looks.

Yakub told the two of us that tomorrow we would go early to see if we could find any Jackals, since it would be our last day. But that evening, our plans were changed.

We hadn't been told this, but the owner's daughters were coming to the lodge due to the long weekend. They turned out to be a lot of fun, and we were asked to stay until Sunday at no extra charge!

The next morning we got up bright and early just as the sun began to rise. As we drove through the African bush, spotting giraffe and ostrich, it felt a lot like the beginning of The Lion King. Unfortunately, there were no Jackals to be found. But we did find an ostrich egg! 

It took a bit to convince the cook Anita to make me a lot of scrambled eggs, but they turned out delicious...

We sent the rest of the day with the owner's daughters swimming in a dam and constructing a giant raft out of rope and blow up pool toys -and getting some really gnarly sunburns all around.

To Shoot or Not to Shoot... That is the Question

With no rain the previous night, chances of finding the Blue Wildebeest shot the day before seemed good. I decided to have coffee with breakfast, just in case we had to do another stakeout.

To my luck we began tracking the wildebeest on foot. It became clear that Jason's shot had broken the right front leg, which meant the Blue would be extremely vigilant. Yakub explained that in this state, animals would often stop to look back just to see if anything was following them, thus he concluded that hunting it on foot would be useless. He called Francis via radio and we jumped into the pick up.

 The plan was simple: Francis would follow the Blue while we drove around to hopefully catch it head-on. The owner Tinus was also joining us in his own pick up to help locate the Wildebeest. The radio began going off every other second: it was heading south of us.

We met with Tinus at one of the frequently driven on dirt path intersections just as a massive Blue Wildebeest burst into the clearing. With practiced motions, Yakub moved the .308 into position and fired, breaking the other front leg. The wildebeest fell forward. Yakub got out of the truck and hurriedly told us to get out as well. 

Yakub sprinted over to the railing above a water trough that is used in the dry season, resting the rifle on the metal bar. Jason grabbed the gun and began to look down the scope.

Despite its excruciating injuries, the wildebeest attempted to hop away. It used its back legs to jump this way or that.

"Shoot- no, don't shoot," Yakub kept having to say.

Finally it rested long enough for a shot, and Jason delivered a perfect neck shot. Yakub gave the Blue Wildebeest its last meal, and it took THREE guys to load it into the back truck. Jason was extremely proud of his shot, and had an even bigger smile than before.

 While we were driving back to the lodge with the wildebeest in tow, the craziest thing happened...

Animals at game farms don't just stand around in the middle of the roads as a pick up truck with hunters approaches, so the female waterbuck standing in the road was certainly a shock to see. She was sick, as we found out when Yakub tried to catch it and the waterbuck ran headlong into the pick up! 

It took two trackers, one hunter, and a belt to finally restrain the waterbuck. She couldn't breath, it turned out, and since there was no chance of getting her to a vet in time, Yakub put her out of her misery.

After all that, it was time to head back to drop off Jason's wildebeest. My little brother refused to eat Wildebeest Balls, so we took a break instead. I managed to find Afrikaans monopoly and convinced Yakub to play with my brother and I. By lunch, I truly don't know who had won, because Tinus had snuck me a monopoly and Yakub seemed to have a key to the jail lock...

The monopoly board got destroyed during an unexpected man made earthquake, and we were back out hunting. We took some Jackal bait along -entrails- and tied them to a tree trunk for a later stakeout in the afternoon. My early coffee had served me well. 

We chanced upon helmeted guinefowl while driving, and I got to shoot one from the back of the pick up! Turns out there's not much left after you shoot a guinefowl with a .308 though...

Not much later, we spotted baboon about a kilometer away. My attempt at shooting one missed, but it sure scared the pants off of all of em!

It had seemed that we wouldn't be finding much more out, until we drove right up to a Puff Adder laying in the road. For those that don't know, Puff Adders have a seriously poisonous bite that can kill in under an hour. Just like Jackals and Baboon, Puff Adders are serious trouble and killed on sight. Yakub used the shooting sticks and the stock of the rifle to effectively accomplish this, with the help of Francis, of course!

We hadn't gone much farther after that until we spotted blue wildebeest. Yakub stopped the truck and said I would be shooting one for meat. We got out and approached them from a kilometer away, careful to keep silent.

When we finally came close enough for a shot, the sound of a wildebeest calling out stopped us in our tracks. Yakub responded, and the whole herd faced towards us.

"Take the one farthest left," he whispered, placing the rifle on his shoulder and motioning for me to move forward.

Once again I fired, so focused that the recoil couldn't be felt and neither the shot heard. We ran up to find it unmoving on the ground. Yakub congratulated me on another perfect shot.

Yakub and Francis loaded the wildebeest into the back of the truck so we could get on with our stakeout. 

No jackals came to our bait, and we ended up waiting for two hours with no luck. But that wasn't the agonizing part. Halfway through the stakeout, the wildebeest I had shot decided to have the last laugh, releasing its stomach gasses through its mouth and making the ENTIRE pick up smell like a dead animal. It smelled awful!

We were all glad to get going when evening fell, and spent the rest of the night playing yet another round of monopoly.

Why Coffee is the Drink of Choice

The weather finally decided to be kind to us the third day. Just sunshine, no rain to spoil the hunt. We saw a herd of black wildebeest soon after crossing into the hunting zone. Yakub explained that they are called the clowns of the bush, since they will run around and around as a herd in circles to confuse predators. 

Just in case you're wondering why there isn't another stalking story upon seeing these creatures, it's because there are huge differences between the Black and Blue Wildebeest. The Black Wildebeest is a dark brown in color, has a white tail, front facing horns, narrower hooves, and a smaller body. The Blue is a grey-blue in color, with side facing horns, wide hooves, and is much larger of an animal.

Besides a herd of impala, we weren't seeing much that morning. Things seemed pretty slow until Yakub spotted a Jackal 500 meters away. The vehicle stopped and Yakub took the shot from atop the pick up. The Jackal managed to run off, but after we drove up and saw the spot where it had been, there was no way it would be able to cause any more trouble.

Another hour of driving without seeing much meant we would try our luck at a stake out. When we arrived at the watering hole, the usual spot that they used was currently occupied with wasps. Instead we set up behind two large bushes... and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Now I realize why coffee is the hunter's drink of choice. You need SOMETHING to keep you from falling asleep with boredom! Thankfully we got to go back for lunch, because picking grass doesn't keep one entertained forever.

With such an unsuccessful morning, we were worried that there wouldn't be much of a turnout in the afternoon. But then we spotted Blue Wildebeest tracks, and left the pick up to follow them deep into the bush. We must have walked for miles, but it didn't matter when we finally drew close! 

Before we could spot them, a huge warthog stepped into our path. Yakub silently asked Jason if he wanted to shoot it, but my little brother shook his head. Yakub nodded, and after a few tense moments of walking as silently as possible around it, we continued to follow the herd. 

The day began to grow old, and the hours of sunlight left was at bare minimum. We were all exhausted after stalking through the bush, and Yakub radioed Francis to pick us up and take us back to the lodge.

"What if we don't find a wildebeest?" Jason asked me as we began the drive back.

"Don't worry about it, we will," I assured him, crossing my fingers we would.

Yakub stopped the car and got out to look through a clearing, he crept back slowly and grabbed the .308 and his hunting sticks, "Blue Wildebeest," he simply stated, "One kilometer."

Jason smiled from ear to ear. We both hopped out and began to weave our way through the bush towards the herd. The excitement reached its peak, and so did the mosquito hour.

We finally drew close, now crouching as low as possible while we crept towards the herd. Then one of the Blue Wildebeest made a noise that I can only describe as the cross between a snort, snore, and a sneeze. Just like the jackal from two days before, it was telling us that it saw us, but it was unsure what we were. 

And just like two days before, Yakub mimicked the noise, making the entire herd curious as to what we were!! They drew closer. Yakub placed the rifle on his shoulder and Jason moved over to shoot. All was silent until the Blue Wildebeest called again. Yakub called back. A mosquito buzzed next to my ear, and I felt it land, but avoided the urge to flick it off in case the movement spooked the herd.

"Take the big one on the left," Yakub whispered before answering another call. 

Jason fired and the Blue Wildebeest dropped. The herd dashed off, and it raced after its companions. By now it was almost dark, but we followed after the tracks. Yakub explained to us quietly that the Blue Jason had shot had broken off from the herd. They do this when they are very sick or dying, so it is a good sign that the shot may have been lethal. 

We followed until we couldn't see any longer, then marked the tracks for the morning. Once again we had to go to sleep with hopes that no rain came during the night.

Safari Excitement

Pictures coming soon

Jason and I were nuclear explosions of excitement radiating adrenaline at nine a.m. Monday morning, February 10th. After what felt like months of waiting -which it was- we were finally going to go on a hunting safari in Namibia, alone! No parents for a week. Just us, our professional hunter (PH) Yakub, Francis our tracker, the cook Anita, and the safari farm's owner Tinus. 

My mom had to work down in a place called Tsumeb for the week, which left my brother and I with nothing to do for several days except sit in a hotel room. But after a brilliant idea, and a couple phone calls, we found Osonjiva Hunting Safaris. They were perfectly OK with letting two kids come and stay alone for the week, and would provide us with hunting rifles and shooting lessons. 

A white van drove up to the hotel lobby. It was covered with thick mud- due to the massive downpour that had started around 7 and hadn't yielded yet- and on the side door a sun-faded sticker read 'Osonjiva Hunting Safaris.' The driver stepped out and introduced himself to us as Yakub (pronounced Yak-oob), our PH for the week. He was a tall, burly German with short red hair and mustache, and light blue eyes. Despite the cold weather, he had on shorts and a button up short sleeved shirt. Yakub reassured my mom that he would take good care of us, and helped load our luggage into the back of the van.

After we said our goodbyes to my mom, it was off to the gun shop to pick up ammo for the .308 Winchester we would be using to shoot throughout the week. Yakub told us that the rifle was his, and that if aimed into the ear, it could even kill an elephant. This led to my little brother asking A LOT of gun related questions...

Our second stop was the taxidermist. I had never been to one before, but it's impressive to see. The van pulled up to a huge warehouse, and Yakub led us inside so we could see the process of how they really make the trophy heads, and get a price list so that if we wanted trophies to be made of our kills, we'd have an idea of pricing. Inside, the warehouse walls were lined to the roof with trophy heads of every animal imaginable. There were racks to hold more of the finished trophies on the ground, and taxidermists were busy sculpting full body mounts of every shape and size. 

After looking around some more, we got back in the car. This time joined by our cook Anita, the owner Tinus, and Tinus' dog, Mango. From there we headed to the Game Lodge, driving far away from town on dirt road. The rain had finally stopped, but when it rains in Africa, it floods. So the supposed-to-be 45 minute drive became an hour and a half.

When we finally arrived everyone was starving, and Anita whipped together one of the best lunches I've ever had. Yakub said we could go out for shooting lessons after we put our stuff away. Usually unpacking takes a while, but we shoved our stuff in the closet in record time.

An olive green pick up truck was waiting for us outside when we were done. Yakub was carrying two rifles over to it. Our .308 Winchester, which had a scope and a silencer screwed on the front, and a .458 with iron sights for any leopards we might run into. He told us to hop into the back with Francis, our tracker for the week. 

We drove out of the lodge and past the herds of cows the lodge used for fresh milk and meat, arriving at a large gate that separated the game farm from the rest of the area. Francis jumped out and opened it up so we could drive through, and then jumped back on. We drove through the bush for a while until we came upon an open area with termite mounds in the distance.

 The pick up stopped at a "shooters table" and everyone got out. Francis picked up a cardboard box from the back and walked it out to the termite mounds, when he placed it down, we realized there was a target taped to it. 

"You will shoot from ninety meters," Yakub explained, "This is the usual distance from which you will also shoot while we are hunting."

Yakub sat down at the "shooters table" and positioned the .308 on the shooting bag, telling us he just had to adjust the scope. Upon asking if we needed ear protection, Yakub told my little brother that he could cover his ears if he wanted, but that most people didn't care to out here, since the sound wouldnt be deafening. 

After a few shots had gone off we both agreed that the sound wasn't bad at all. It didn't take long before Yakub offered us the chance to shoot. My first shots were pretty decent, and Yakub said that on a big animal, a couple inches off wouldn't make a difference. 

It began to rain heavily after that, and since rain isn't good for rifles, we ended up heading back to the lodge. Thankfully the weather cleared up soon after, and Jason was able to shoot as we'll. By then it was about 4 in the afternoon, and Yakub told us that we still had plenty of time before dinner, which would be around 8. So we began hunting!

The first day we spotted plenty of animals: ------. I had decided to shoot Gemsbok/Oryx, while Jason was still making a hard decision between Blue Wildebeest and Warthog. 

At Osonjiva, Jackals and Baboons are free to shoot; they cause trouble in the farm, so if any are spotted, they'll be shot on sight. We spotted a Jackal while we were out, and Yakub got out immediately. He whispered to Jason that he should take the shot, and we began to crawl towards it quietly, taking cover behind a small termite mound. Yakub placed the rifle on his shoulder and steadied it with his hand, then beckoned Jason to come take a shot. But before Jason could look down the scope, the Jackal made a sound quite like the comedic kissing noise you hear on tv. Which meant that it saw us, but it was unsure about what we were. 

Yakub cupped his fist to his mouth and responded with the same noise. The Jackal drew closer. Curious.

 

Once again the Jackal and Yakub called out to one another, the Jackal again drawing nearer. It was facing straight towards us now.

"Take the shot where the neck and chest meet," Yakub whispered.

BLAM! The Jackal fell over from the shot, but was up again instantly and took off running towards the bush. We ran over to where the jackal had been standing to find red coloring the dirt. Jason had shot the jackal high in the neck, and a couple inches to the left. 

Francis rumbled over in the truck, and we began to track. Jackals are small, light animals, so following their tracks in the dirt is quite useless. You can only follow them as long as there is blood. We ended up losing the trail, and our adrenalin slowly lost affect as well.

It wasn't until about six thirty that we finally spotted some Oryx and Blue Wildebeest. They were a good 1 1/2 kilometers away from the pick up, and hadn't noticed us. Yakub jumped out of the car and grabbed the .308, beckoning to us silently to get out as well. We began stalking in a single file line, weaving through the bush, slowly drawing nearer to the animals. 

The closer we came, the quieter our footsteps fell. A light rain had begun to fall as it got darker, and as we finally came close enough to take a shot, the sun had disappeared behind the horizon. Yakub set up the shooting sticks quietly, as neither the Oryx nor the Wildebeest had taken notice to us yet.

This time it was my turn. I watched the Oryx through my scope, but Yakub told me not to shoot yet, as right behind it was a wildebeest. Neither moved, meaning there was no clear shot. Then suddenly Yakub whispered for me to take the second wildebeest off to the right, which was facing forwards towards us about 70 meters away. He quickly explained that it would just be for meat.

I shot a bit to the left on the neck. The wildebeest fell over and stood up, stunned. Yakub took the rifle and tried to shoot again, but the rifle was jammed! Suddenly everything felt frantic. Yakub had to slam the rifle on the ground to remove the live round that was stuck, and ended up firing the rifle!! It spooked the Oryx and Wildebeest. With the pounding of hooves they raced deep into the bush.

Tracking was useless, as it began to get darker and darker. In Namibia, it is only legal to hunt until sunset, and our time was almost up. We could only pray that raid didn't cover up the tracks as Francis drove up in the pick up and we had to call it a day.