Home a week now after nearly three weeks in South Africa and Mozambique hunting and picture taking







The pics above are of the main camp. From this they have a number of smaller camps spread out across Sofala Province in Cental Mozambique. Each camp is up to seven hours drive away and I got to see more than my share of the camps on this trip

The first one we travelled out to was to hunt Cape Buffalo. This camp was about three hour drive away (yet only 50KM !!). A small comment here, travel in Mozambique is measure in time rather than distance....thanks to the state of the roads and general ability (or lack there of) of other drivers.

I felt pretty much at home on the drive as it was in an old and well worn (500K KM) 75 Series Landcruiser



The accommodation was a little more basic but clean and comfortable, heck, it is better than many places I stay when I hunt out here !

My hut...



Bed..



Internal view..

Hot water supply...



Laundry



Kitchen..



Royal Throne of Mozambique (I was of course crowned King !!).. and yes that is as high and tilted as it looks !!



Fire pit and dining room...



This area is "dry" (for Moz) country and you are hunting the buffalo in and around the forests (as opposed to the open and wet delta area) where the numbers are MUCH lower and (as I was to discover) MUCH harder to hunt !!!

Inside the kitchen...



Typical Camp Staff Accommodation....



Staff Communal Fire Pit/Shelter...



So hunting....

In this area it is all about tracking and trying to predict the movements of the game. I was heartened that on the first afternoon out we managed to walk (and CRAWL...yes LOTS of crawling along the ground while hunting....hours of it in fact) up on a small heard of buffalo about an hour into hunting.... at one point I though this was going to be disappointingly easy...how wrong I was... anyway got to within 80yds of them but no bull at all. So we retreated back to start again in the afternoon (this was mid morning). That afternoon we hunted for five hours.... walk around 9km across and back the forest areas (you can see a buff in there but that is it, it is a buff, not what it is, how old etc). We had managed to be around a half hour it seemed behind the heard all the way along... then right on dark we got between the heard and a small group of stragglers (four cows at least) who winded us and took off...taking the rest with them... that left a long and annoying walk back to camp.

The next four days all fell into a routine of starting before light, getting to an area on the edge of the forest and playing the wind to try and walk in on the heard. It really was cat and mouse each day. Lunch was taken in the field as was a siesta ... I spent a number of hours asleep across the seat of the Toyota or on the ground while I digested the gems the cool box had to offer...



The buff were tough...I can't put it any other way... the slightest hint of wind behind us and they were off...they were constantly watching and very flightily !!! I travels took us further out from the camp each day and finally into lands not technically part of the hunting concession. To be here we had to go into town and touch base with the Administrator to let him know (we were most welcome to be hunting, just a courtesy). The town was called Galinha... this is the administration building... there was also a hospital (basic) and school as well as bases for both "Political Groups" (who in the 90s were still shooting and mining each other)...



River crossing, you could drive on the sand all the way to the Indian Ocean (about 80km) but we saved that for if the hunting went REALY bad...LOL



Me...

On the way back we stopped at a disused hunting camp for a company that is no longer...







I post with my only comment on it being the result of people who are unfamiliar with a western toilet being asked to install it...



Onward hunting...

More cat and mouse....or man and buff really. By the afternoon of Day 3 I was having some doubts.... yep, we were seeing sign...seeing buff...albeit glimpses and arse ends wandering through the forest. I will say the tracker was BLOODY AMAZING, now I can track a bit, but a few times I was walking with him thinking he is finally having me on and we are on a nature stroll, then we would arrive at a fresh (steaming) pile of dung or prints. So I was again convinced. We spent this afternoon planning for the following morning where it was hoped the buff would come out of the forest to graze on some green pick...

The boys up a termite mound looking for a spot for the following morning (it was a pivotal mound the next day)...



Me... I photographed the sun getting lower...



Then we started a LOOONG walk back to the truck. Then the FIRST KILL....!!!!!! But alas it was not to be mine...

Obano and Thomas (also known as "Smokes Too Much Marijuana") got a bit animated and started in at a log. I saw scales and assumed snake... but no....



It is a Legavaan and was to be DINNER After much effort and a final whack on the head it was over the shoulder and on the way back to camp with us.... (a comment here... they eat everything that runs, crawls, flies, scurries or scampers !!! Mice are a stable part of the diet !!) ... I will add....the lads shared the kill with us for dinner as well... I have eaten worse things !!!

So a small deviation from Africa for a moment... I spent a good bit of time preparing for this trip, especially ammunition as, well, this stands between me and whatever critter decides it wants to eat or trample me...!!! After some reading, Lord there is so much information out there and so very many opinions, I decided on pushing the Woodleigh Hydrostatically Stabilised projectiles out of my .375H&H. There were some highs and lows with this most notably the groups (a high) and the dud primer issues (a low) but I boarded the plane with 45 rounds of what I hoped was going to be the right mix of penetration vs tissue damage...



I had a loooooong conversation with my PH on ammunition while (I figured out after) he was trying to figure out of I had a clue and could shoot. He is in his 60s and has been hunting all his life (two and four legged game) and has spent LOTS of time of big and dangerous critters. He advocates nothing but "softs" for everything bar elephant. The Barnes and Swift offerings being the ones he was most impressed with. He was unconvinced about my choice We had a bit of a pointed discussion (he lectured ) after the first one I fired at game (he had me shoot some cardboard on the first morning nominally to ensure my rifle was zeroed, more like figuring if I could hit a 12x12 bit of cardboard at 100yds).

So...back to hunting.... after the scouting of the aftenoon before we had a plan (wind and Buffalo willing) of where we hoped to get a shot at the heard. After another good three hour walking (in a bloody looooong loop thanks to the wind) I was starting to get that feeling that we were once again a little late and behind. Literally a minute after this thought I was back down on my hands and knees crawling my way toward them all while hoping I could keep a termite mound between us and that the wind would cooperate...!!!

It seemed the hunting Gods were onside (maybe it was though two virgin goats I threw into the volcano the night before, or just some good luck/hunting) !!! I crawledup the side of a termite mound and started to try and get an angle on the bull. It was a pretty tense 10 or so minutes till he was in a position that I could fire...then he was not...geeeze... yes this went on for about 15-20mins till finally he was there clear in front and mostly behind... a little breathing, a little concentration and BOOM. I was heartened to see him knocked off his feet !!!!! Click'ity Clack and I was ready to shoot again but alas he was up and off with the now pounding herd !!! A hop sip and jump back to ground level and I was watching as they thundered off in a cloud of dust !! No need to ask if I hit him, but I did get asked where, shoulder/heart was the goal and I would bet a nut that is where I hit !! (It was at this point I got the soft vs solid lecture with some expletives about "those things behaving just like a solid and being BS...but I digress...) I could see the bull (just so we are clear, I knew he was no world beater when I settled the crosshair on him, but he was "my bull") and watched him peel off from the back of the herd and start to slow at around 150yds... this let me know he was in fact buggered but we still had to get close and make sure....!!

Off we walked (this was the only time my PH retrieved his rifle from the trackers) and he and the lads made for a large termite mound (that same one I took a picture of them on the day before) to try and get a view as to where he went (hopefully not into the close by forest as that would suck !). They were about 1/2 way up and I was moving forward, around this point I said I had him and he was down, he asked me to put another shot in him for safe measure which I did from about 50yds.

And there he was, after all that bloody work !!!





No word beater... he has weak boss' but I was bloody extatic !!!!

So of course there was a period of copious picture taking etc and then my PH (his name in Boet BTW and we have ended up as good mates) and Thomas (Marijuana) started off on the hour walk back to the truck. Obano started to skin... and much to my ABJECT HORROR he produced and commenced this task with a bloody BEAR GRILLS folder...!!!!



I could NOT have this and offered to help (this is a social faux pas it seems !!) so then I offer Obano my Busse for the task and he gladly accepted, I have to say I did love the look on his face when it sailed through everything he swiped with it... the big grin made my day !!!







So in the distance I could hear the diesel rattle of the Landcruiser approaching, Thomas was out front with his machete clearing the low trees, what I did notice was that it semed to have more passengers than I remember coming out with us (it should have just been the one more guy from camp who stayed with and looked after the truck)...

So our guys got stuck in together...



Thomas' homemade knife (that got continually sharpened on a rock and the spine of his machete)..



While they did so more and more people started to appear (where the hell from I am not sure but to them those shots mean a meal !!).



Head almost off...



A few guys already had a fire going looking to start cooking ASAP !!!



A very bloody Busse



Now, back to that soft vs solid argument.... I present "The Heart" !! Note the hole... !!!



Boet and I had a further discussion on this and agreed that the Woodleigh's had performed as well as any soft he has seen on buffalo and that there was no good reason this one had gone as far as he had, the first shot was a through and through broadside and the second was through and through 1/4ing from the rear and out the front. Happy that the second was not actually "needed" but better safe than sorry !!!

So there is a pecking order with the meat, I get first cut So we grabbed one backstrap for dinner , then our guys get a cut or two for themselves and the rest of the camp, then the rest goes to the locals (Boet supervises to make sure his lads don't take too much to ensure that the locals are as well taken care of as we can)....

I have NEVER seen a beast vanish into component parts as quick as this one did !!!! And let me tell you....NOTHING, not a thing is wasted !!! Thomas (maybe the Mary Jane at play) grabbed his "favourite parts"...the scrotum, its contents and the second stomach...that were to be his evening feast !!!



And back at camp with a few of the cuts they were sharing out among the staff...



A vehicle (another great Landcruiser ) from the main camp was out on a stores run so it took my head and cape back to the skinners



A "lawn ornament"



Soooooo..... on the drive back and over a relaxing lunch we discussed "what now", from this camp they only hunt Buffalo, Elephant and Leopard (saw one on the drive out !!!).. With the distances and difficulty involved we decided initially to go see if we could find a Kudu

We did have a guest join us for lunch (he was chasing a skink in the meal room)...



I have to say, I really enjoyed my time at this camp, it was quiet with just myself, Boet and a few staff. The evening beers were great as was the conversation and the hunting, well, it was hunting, a bit frustrating at times, hard work at others, challenging and exciting. Despite being hot, dirty and sweaty, I loved it...!!! Each and every moment of it !!

So...instead of spending another night out at the Buffalo Camp we decided to get back on the track and to the main camp for the night (closer to where we were to hunt Kudu). One thing here is that in the wet season all the streams and such come up and batter whatever little bridges and such they put in. As a result there are lots of "less than permanent" bridges over little (and not so little) bodies of water.

This one use to have a permanent and well made bridge (pre the civil war) but now...



One the way back we passed through a couple of small communities and villages, one of which includes of of the six schools that the company I was hunting with built and maintains as part of their commitment in Moz. It also had a nifty "Corner Store" ...


Back at the main camp just in time for an afternoon relax before dinner...

and sunset along the river (accompanied by more beers )...



So now we planned to hit the road for the rest of the time (pretty much) that I had in Moz and there were some looooong days of driving ahead. So we needed to pack up a good supply of feed, water and camp stores as well as Obano the Tracker, Jake the Cook and a Skinner. It also mean a change of vehicle to a Nissan Pickup that is a little newer and more refined than the old Tojo. This of course is akin to asking a die hard Chevy Fan to travel in a Ford... but I gritted my teeth and soldiered on .

One of the other guys in camp was also due to have days off and asked if his mother could also get a lift back to civilisation with us (about 40km or more)... now of course when the morning came there was all our gear, the three guys travelling with us, the guy going on his days off....his mother....AND two more kids.....

Yep, we were well loaded up to start off...



And back at the gate (40km away) unloading the four extra passengers and checking in with the other staff who watch the road for poachers etc entering...



Back up transport if the Nissan threw a piston and died...



And the general "Go Away" signs at the gate.....yes the blue one is a Lion Warning Sign...!!!



And a couple of hours later crossing another bit of water (after the lads has repositioned some logs and such (you will notice Jake the Cook didn't exit the truck for this as I don't think heavy lifting is in a cook's job description )...



Unpacking at the new digs...



Camp Kitchen/Stove...

Down on the river below camp (it empties into the Zambezi Delta) ...



A wild banana tree (one of many)...



Some more emergency transport (again anticipating the Nissan passing away ) ...



So after a lunch of cold meats and salad we packed up and got out into the bush for a look around. Now this was to look for Kudu but also Warthog if either presented. After about 40mins of driving we were well out into the bush, we packed up under some shade and set forth to see what was about. This area has LOTS of game, Bushbuck, Waterbuck, Nyala, Sable, Kudu, Warthog, Leopard, Lion, Elephant and LOTS of Baboons...!!!!! But it was Kudu I was after (or Warthog). We saw a few Kudu Cows and a very young bull. But nothing to really hunt further. I COULD ($$$$s aside) have taken a VERY large Waterbuck (very large) a nice Nyala and a Nice Sable. All things you would happily spend a week hunting for one their own (and then I see them all in a period of about 90mins walking !!!!)... but my bank account was not willing and any of these would have meant passing on a Kudu.

As we were hunting there are no great attempts to take pics, as much as this really tested me - but on this part of the trip hunting first !!)... only one of a mixed group of critters I snapped back near the truck...



So on the drive back to camp we had a chat about "what now" and Boet's thoughts were twofold, I was a "Cheap Bastard" and he was not going to be able to pry any extra $$s out of me and that this was not their best area for Kudu, the reality (and I get it) was a couple of days here was to try and get me to spend some more....



.... but those things don't breed in my bag so I knew what my limitations were (BTW - the most stressful thing on this trip, organisationally, was travelling around with that much cash on me all the bloody time) !!!! In Moz, all payments beyond the package price, which in my case was going to be tips and trophy fees excluding the Buffalo as it was part of the package.

As a result of this, I was was never going to BS him or he me, we decided to pack back up that afternoon, get back on the road and up into the Croc Camp . Yes I was looking forward to this !!!!!

Poor Jake the Cook had just put a load of bread rolls on for dinner as well

With some running around we were back on the road well before dark but first needed to cross that river below camp...and another stick bridge. This one a little longer than the rest (along with plenty of cracking and groaning)...

Pretty much my view for the next couple of hours....



Till we hit Inhammga in the late afternoon ...



From here the sun was going down and we had another 4 hours of travel ahead, the dirt roads are actually better to travel on than the "sealed roads" as the later are in such disrepair that just as soon as you get some speed up you are slowing again for a bloody big pothole !!! I also realised that the locals CAN'T RIDE BIKES (motor or push) AT NIGHT !!!! We had no less than 15 (yes 15, I lost count around then) come a cropper as they came toward us at night. All low speed loss of control in soft sand and no injuries (I think it is actually an accepted method of braking now) and somewhat amusing when you are tired and sore from the long drive !!

About 2030hrs we arrived at the "Croc Camp" (they also hunt Hippo from here) which is located on the banks of the Zambezi near a village called Sena (for those with a map). I think we were all knackered and after dinner (Buffalo Backstraps, salad and some ordinary bread rolls - Jake was not wasting a thing and nursed the Dutch Oven all the way !!! ) it was off to bed.


So... "Croc Camp" .... "Band Camp" but with teeth you ask ??? I don't think so.

The Nile Crocodile (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nile_crocodile) is a little different than the local variety found here in Australia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saltwater_crocodile) but not too much. I note from the Wiki entry (yes taken with a grain of salt) that the Aussie version gets larger and seems more aggressive (true of the average Australian man I would suggest as well... ). In reality I think the differences on these points are mostly academic. If either decides you are lunch you are lunch. I DO think much more is made of Croc attacks here in Aus than they are in Africa (in fact I am positive of this !!!! ) and in fact MANY more people are taken (even per capita) than here. This is a factor of the living arrangements and how the populations of Croc and Human are stacked upon each other all across Africa. One big difference between the two, I CAN legally hunt the Nile Croc...

So the Croc Camp backs onto the Zambezi River up in the mid north of Mozambique. Puttering along the river (in a boat that seemed entire too small to me ) we ended up around 10km from the Malawi border. If I was Madonna I would have nipped up and acquired another child...but I am not.

The morning started with watching the sun come up across the river...





And my first look at my "Ship" for this part of the trip...



Camp here, was comfortable but a little louder than at other locations as there is a small village just outside the boundary fence of the camp.

A fire pit and deck of course...



Croc hunting is accomplished two fold, figure out where the big lizard is frequenting on shore (they, like the Aussie version are VERY territorial) to sun themselves, set up over these spots and wait and the other, find the big lizard and stalk in close enough to shoot. I got to experience both and both have their challenges.

On shooting a croc. There are three generally accepted spot to hit them. Forward of the shoulder, where the spine and head meet (found by following "the smile" back and aiming there) OR striking the brain, to do so you have an area a little larger than and egg to hit in the area just behind the eye. The reality is that if you want to ground the lizard right there and not risk it kicking its way back into the water (and generally being lost) it is the third and hardest option that is required. On trophy fees.... a shot and a miss can cost you the fee (at the discretion of the PH, if he even suspects a wound you will pay), a wounding costs you, a kill but a lost body costs you. The fee is US$3K so there is some small amount of pressure around the shooting part...

Croc hunting hours are however VERY civil, they don't come out of the water till the outside temps rise and the sand etc warms up. So no crack of dawn starts ...

The first avenue we tried was some local knowledge about where a large croc was appearing. It was a good hour upstream from camp...

Our Captain...



Obano....yes, (seeing as he was our tracker) I did at one point ask him if he "had seen any croc tracks yet" as we motored upstream.... I think he was being polite by not answering to start with till he figured out it was humour...



Typical view as we motored around the river. These are actually sandbars that are mid river... just when you think you are "on the other side" (as the sandbar with plant life and such is a couple of KM long) you realise you are no more than the middle !!!



The other significant in habitant of the Zambezi is the Hippo.... and there were lots of them !!!





Where a croc is going in and out of the water is what you are trying to figure... of course till you scurry up there you don't know which it was nor where they are !!!



A little lizard...

Another "Puddle Pig" ...





Soooooo.... after the motoring and taking in the sights we got up to the area where a croc of some size was suppose to be frequenting. On the trip up we saw a few but nothing of size. On size...I didn't just want to "shoot a croc" I wanted a larger croc (must be the Australian in me ). On this river 11- 12 feet are considered trophies, over 12 to 13 are something !! I really did want to find something around the 12 or so foot mark (as a minimum), but hunting is just that, not to order, you just need to keep working at it and hope a little luck comes you way as well.

Getting ashore is fun as you are not just running up on the sand, that's because they us generally where the big lizards bask and "one does not wish to bother them" (apply English accent here). So "The Captain" runs the boat nose first into the reeds or against an almost vertical shore and you scramble up, then pass up your gear.

Once on the sandbar or shore you go find a spot that gives you a view of where it is you want to watch, that is done by working a combination of clearings and "hippo tunnels", the name was lost on me for a little, through the vegetation.... then you wait.

Working through one of the tunnels...



... I chose the hands and knees method of movement but each works...

Sooooo....what now.... well YOU WAIT and hope for the big lizard to decide to come and take a little sun on the sand (Mankini optional) !!!! In this case, well over an hour before anything at all happened.

A note on crocs... I have been around the Saltwater variety a little in my life, enough to respect them greatly but also to have an understanding of getting a bit close to them. The Aussie version is MUCH easier to get close to. I am sure that is a factor of no hunting pressure and far fewer people in their environment. I was to discover that the Nile Croc (in this area at least) was very very attuned to threats and were off back into the water ASAP...!!!!! Better to find this out early !!

Soooo after about an hour the resident lizard showed up....and it was in fact a good sized crocodile....



... but after some looking and looking I (and taking Boet's advice !!) decided it was not big enough for me. Probably in the order of 11-12 feet but it is hard to gauge till you are close and with a tape in hand !!

Once I had decided that this one was not a shooter I thought I will move in and get some better pictures... this is when the difficulty of hunting them struck home. I am not sure what it was, wind, noise, a glimpse (I doubt the later as I was on all fours in the reeds) but I got not further than 10yds closer than the pic I took above and the mouth slowly closed (not startled response, very considered) and the big thing gently slid back into the water and almost vanished !!!!



In hindsight it may NOT have been me that caused the issue but I think it was, that said this guy....



...was in the water not 20yds from that sand. Now remember when I said I was in a "Hippo Tunnel".... the reality of this then dawned on me.....!!!! It IS a tunnel that hippos make and use regularly !!!!!!!!!! .

OK... back to the boat (there was a famous line from the movie Apocalypse Now playing over and over in my head the whole time I was out on the river BTW !!!!! ) ... .
Anyway.... with that avenue not working we decided to head back downriver to another large sandbar that is frequented by crocs. One issue we were facing in the morning was that the river was up (it regularly rises and falls during the course of the day depending on what is happening upriver (which may be all the way up and almost into The Congo) so the amount of rise/fall is a bit unpredictable. As we headed upstream a number of the areas the big lizards like to bask on where underwater. On the return journey the river had dropped and more places were appearing !!!

Our first stop was a big overgrown sandbar that is split by a small channel. Apparently crocs like to move into this channel and bask on small sand patches. We put the boat in and started a careful walk toward the channel... the closer we got the thicker the growth till it was back down onto hands and knees in a "Hippo Tunnel" the reality of this situation also was driven home as I had to skirt a fresh and still steaming Hippo Turd !!!!!! The same tunnels are used by crocs to get further into the sandbars !!!! We slowed where the tunnel opened onto the channel and started to look around, yes there were indeed Crocs here, big enough to eat you but still not large enough to take (well not for me - still Australian after all). We eased back out and around to the boat and commenced motoring downstream.

The picture below is of the sandbar described above. You can see a good sized Croc laying there catching some rays. That spot he/she is laying in where the channel through the sandbar enters, this Croc is one of the ones we were looking over...



And just a little further downstream was another lizard taking in the sun...