Thread: A North Islander meets some West Coast Puff Daddys.

Are you still thawing out James?

Ha ha ha ha visions of him huddled over a heater blowing on his fingers.

Originally Posted by R93

Are you still thawing out James?

All good Dave. Trying to do a follow up for you now but keep getting distracted!

Originally Posted by kiwijames

All good Dave. Trying to do a follow up for you now but keep getting distracted!

Those nude pics of Al are not good enough to be distracting. Ha Ha
Weather is good for reals today, so heading out shortly.

R93 (Dave) and I have been mates for some time now but had yet to have physically met, so an opportunity to come down south for a hunt was not to be missed. The target was Tahr, which had been high on my list of to do's. I was a little apprehensive as well as very excited to hunt the high country. It was going to be a lot different to the stuff we have at home especially the weather!
We had 6th ballot and after an uneventful flight to Christchurch we were on our way over to the Coast in Dave's Hilux. I think I burnt out his passenger brake before Arthurs Pass.
The weather forecast was not looking good so we ended up waiting in Hoki with Al, Daves long time hunting mate (and tormentor) as well as finding some time to catch up with Abe (tuiman) in Greymouth. The weekend weather forecast remained shit with no call from our bush taxi so we decided the next port of call was to be with Stagosaurus in Whataroa and hope we can catch a break in the weather to get in. I am very jealous of you coasters, the place is just so beautiful and wild. I think we polished off two bottles of whiskey before getting out the door but finally the weather broke and we were off. We met Smiddy at James Scotts pick up zone and after a short but spectacular flight we finally were in Tahr country.

There was to be little respite though with a solid 3 hours of snow almost immediately after we had set up camp.

There was not much else to be done on day 2 with an end to the snow but still terribly cold. Pushing through the snow and scrub did not look very fun so Dave was good enough to give me an education in judging bull Tahr from afar. Two cigarette packets length in the horns before the tips with a mane back to the hip was our target.
The Tahr certainly were not fazed by the weather and the snow was almost to our advantage as it betrayed any animal out of the scrub. It was fairly obvious what was a bull worth putting the spotter on as they had a swagger not unlike a bear with a heavy mane any lion would be proud of. By the end of the day we had located a few bulls worthy of further investigation and some that would be left to stay put due the impossible positions they had chosen to call home.

The next day a plan was made to check out a large open gutter up into the head of our area. We had seen bulls there and if needed we could sidle from there giving a vantage point into some other creek heads. Pushing up the creek gave a good view up an open face and a bull eventually revealed himself. At 300m he was well within reach and after a bit of hide and seek the shot was on. Another new experience for me was shooting a ported brake gun over snow. At the shot a shower of snow and shit was everywhere! The shot felt good but I could see nothing. We moved on up to where the bull should have been and were met by another bull and his nannies. They put on quite a show for us whistling and carrying on until we eventually pushed on. We found the bull a few feet from where he had been shot with another bull just below him oblivious.

This was just amazing for a Tahr virgin, three bulls all reasonable size inside of 30 minutes.

We took the full skin off my bull as I figured it would make an amazing floor rug as well as legs and backsteaks off a nanny I also shot for meat. The hide certainly had some weight to it and permeated a rather strong Tahr smell into my daypack (much to the displeasure of my fellow Air NZ travellers on my return trip home).

Day 4 and the weather looked as though it was going to turn for the worse again. Out with the mountain radio and a pick up was scheduled for that afternoon. The day started out a bit of a mess for me as I had planned to hunt up into the opposite side of the valley. A little tumble plus being a while since I hunted such challenging bush had me doubting myself to the point that I eventually turned around for camp. I met Dave back at camp as he needed to make a confirmation call and had been waiting for the radio whilst glassing the surrounds. He told me to get going up into the top of another creek as he had spotted a “munter” with his nannies but Id better be quick to catch him out. The bulls around us appeared to have a routine of slowly making their way down into the bush edge throughout the morning then returning into the high crags in the afternoon where I assume they spent the night. It was getting into the time of day the bulls headed for home so a quick bash up into the creek then a grunt up the boulder strewn bed had me getting close to being able to see my bull. I had given Dave a radio for some important feedback and I radioed him I should be in position soon but the wind was starting to blow up the creek and my concern was they would catch my scent sooner rather than later. Dave confirmed the bull was not far from where we had last seen him and nothing was alarmed yet. Over another rock slab put me into a position where I could shoot from, and setting up an 180m shot with 25deg incline offered not a lot of adjustment to the scope. I was thinking he was going to cut my scent any minute so at the first broadside chance I made the shot. Again the brake sent a cloud of debris up and what was a certain shot suddenly looked like a possible cock up. Where was my bull? Also in my rush I had forgotten my LHS ear plug and my ear was ringing like bastard. A radio call to Dave furthered the sinking feeling as he had also lost the bull in the spotter. There was only one thing to do and it was get up to look for him. The nannies still watched on and whistled their displeasure at my presence as I made my way up the hill and then from the scrub a bull shot out in panic. He looked uninjured too! Was it my bull? He was a good one and I had removed my brake for the possible need of a follow up shot. I had to have missed first time up so on the spot I drilled the bull through the neck. He teetered and I gave it a second shot as it could get hard to recover if he got too much further out of the creek head. Elated I moved up to the bull. He was a fine bull but something was not right, his coat, even though now soaked in the small stream was not the deep black it was supposed to be.

Looking around I had to confirm this was the bull we were so keen to see up close. After a precarious look on top of the island where we had first seen the bull all became apparent. Down in the creek, not 10 paces from where I had shot the second time from was my original target.

I had shot two bulls and now had a hell of a job on my hands as the pick up was for 5PM and it was now 2:30PM. Out with the knife to perform the very unfamiliar task for me of taking the heads. Dave and Al now watched on through the spotter trying the best to talk me through getting the head off in double time. Headskins were not even an option now and after much hacking and prying I had my trophies. I felt some disappointment in not being able to give these animals the full respect they deserved by leaving so much on the hill as well as taking a second animal mistakenly but, you sure can’t turn back a bullet and what was done was done.
Racing back down the creek I made it to camp with little time for much other than packing down everything to fit into the 500. The large bull measured out to be a very heavy 12.5” with 13 growth rings suggesting a very old bull. The dermal ridges were heavily broomed with very stubby tips losing possibly up to a good inch in length I am told.
All up this has to rate as one of the greatest hunts I’ve been on. It was bitterly cold but the country is worth numb fingers and toes anyday.
Dave, you are one of the world’s few exceptionally good guys. I know how much this trip was to you and Al and I felt very privileged to be asked along.
The West coast is also something I doubt I could get enough of. I will be back as I now need a headskin as well as a strong urge to get up close to a few chamois too.

Great.

Good report awsome stuff

Awesome photography

Nice write up kiwijames, wicked photos to

Fantastic photography and report, an epic adventure James.

R93, kudos for your generosity !!!

Trip of a lifetime great post KJ.

Good stuff James, a memorable trip for sure. I definitely agree about the West Coast too, awesome place to hunt & somewhere I look forward to returning to not long after I leave each time... A big West Coast chamois is next on my hitlist...

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I knew it would be a good report. Awesome!
You know you're more than welcome back anytime mate, in fact, I insist we get out for a thar head skin and a big Cham.
Besides you need to replace the pads on my passenger brake!! No bugger will use it till you get back anyway ya big sook!
We will do a hunt in warmer weather for a Cham I reckon. Marcus is always keen when its not his busy season as well.
It was a privilege to meet and hunt with you, even if you are a N islander Ha Ha

Great pics and report :thumbup:

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Fantastic read dude, and accompanied by some awesome photos.