New Zealand Adventure

Hunting, New Zealand Style

By T.J. Schwanky

 

Selecting an outfitter for a hunt can be a daunting task, especially when you are wandering around the Safari Club International convention and there are roughly 44 of them offering similar services. This is the dilemma we faced a couple years ago when trying to book our New Zealand hunt.  We did have a few very definite criterion that eliminated a few but there were still quite a number to choose from. We definitely wanted to hunt the South Island and we wanted to do a free-range hunt without the use of helicopters. We preferred a small operation with some very personal service and we wanted a good opportunity to take some mature animals. After that we were pretty open to anything. I've learned from years of traveling that it's good to know what you want but also be open minded enough to hear what is realistic. Vanessa and I spent the better part of three days meeting and chatting with outfitters and at the end of it all, there was one that really stood out. Gerald and Sue Telford are, as my Mom would say, just nice folks and in the end, that was the deciding factor on who we booked with. There were many others that offered similar hunts but we just really liked them and a trip was arranged for the following year.

We had a pretty long wish list that included a red stag, chamois and tahr for me and fallow deer, arapowa ram and tahr for Vanessa. New Zealand has no native land mammals and everything that walks on four legs can be traced back to early settlers bringing them over on ships, primarily from England. As there are no predators, save for ferrets and weasels in New Zealand, larger animals flourish and can only be controlled through hunting.  It truly is a hunter's paradise with a very unique list of huntable species.  There are no specified hunting seasons, no licences are required and there are no limits on harvest numbers, yet they still can't keep up with exploding populations. We booked 10 days of hunting with Gerald and Sue. They felt checking off everything on our list wouldn't be an issue.

Getting from Canada to New Zealand is relatively painless now that there are direct flights from Vancouver to Auckland and New Zealand is a super gun friendly country so taking your own rifle along is not a problem at all. As we knew we could face some long-range shots, especially for the tahr and chamois, we chose to take my Rocky Mountain Rifle chambered in 270WSM. It wears a Zeiss 4.5-14x44 Conquest with Rapid Z 800 and both Vanessa and I were very comfortable shooting it out to 500 yards and spent the month before the hunt doing a lot of long-range shooting. While Gerald also caters to bow hunters and enjoys extremely high success rates, he felt with the long wish list that we had, that being able to shoot 400 yards would definitely stack the odds in our favour.

We arrived a couple days early in Wanaka to give us some time to get over the jet lag that 17 hours of flying can cause and after a couple easy hikes and checking the zero on our rifles, we were off hunting. Gerald was tied up for the first couple days so he teamed us up with a young guide by the name of Duncan. The plan was to hunt Arapowa ram first as Gerald felt it would be the toughest animal to get. While these sheep closely resemble their domestic cousins, they have been feral for centuries and are indeed very wild and challenging to hunt. In fact, after a long day in the mountains we only managed to spot a couple small rams. Exhausted from the long day of hiking, Duncan suggested we head to another area to try and located a big red stag that Gerald had tried unsuccessfully to get a hunter on earlier in the season. It was a long shot but we were game.

After a strenuous climb, we arrived at a beautiful meadow tucked away deep in the trees. The rut was pretty well over and in the strong wind, it's not like we could have heard the distant roar of a stag anyhow. Duncan spotted them first. There were four cows or hinds as they are called and one small stag. I studied them carefully through the binoculars and suddenly another stag walked into view. I looked to Duncan for direction but he seemed somewhat unimpressed. "Is that good stag?" I whispered.

 

"A really good one."

It was in fact the stag that Gerald had tried to take earlier in the year. Duncan whispered something about it only being the first day. I'd seen all I needed to see and after having Duncan reassure me one more time that it was indeed a tremendous trophy, I leveled the crosshairs on the big bull's shoulder at just over 200 yards. The shot rocked him hard and after taking a couple steps forward, he careened backward and slid down the steep slope. The stag was an absolutely magnificent free-range specimen and I couldn’t believe my good fortune. First day or not, I couldn’t have been happier.

The following day, Duncan suggested we head higher into the mountains in search of chamois. While a diminutive trophy, chamois inhabit the most inhospitable terrain imaginable. Mountain goats would get a case of vertigo trying to follow in their footsteps. A very steep road led us to the top of the mountain and the plan was to check out several long ridges and then drop several thousand feet to a road below, hopefully with a chamois in our pack.

 

We spotted several female chamois after hiking a short distance. There were a few small males in the area but nothing that interested us. Then, Duncan spotted a good male across a steep canyon and as the rut was just beginning, he suggested we get closer to the females with the hopes the buck would come to check them out. It took a couple hours to make our way down the steep cliff and as if on cue, the buck began moving our way. An hour later, he was standing broadside at 165 yards. It was an easy shot and as the crosshairs settled just behind his shoulder, I had no doubt of the outcome as I tightened up on the trigger.  Rocks exploded just above the chamois and he scrambled down the cliff and quickly disappeared. I'd shot high. The six-hour hike to the bottom of the mountain couldn't have been longer.

There were still a couple of hours of daylight left when we reached the bottom and Duncan suggested we go take a look for an Arapowa ram.  We were both surprised when after walking only a short distance, we spotted a lone ram at just under 400 yards. With light fading fast and no way to get closer, Vanessa found a comfortable shooting position and gave us a thumbs up. With one well-placed shot she sent the big ram tumbling down the hill. She had her Arapowa ram, a unique trophy indeed.

 

The following day, Gerald took over the guiding duties and promised us an easier day than the previous two. The break sounded welcome. At first light, we were overlooking a steep drainage where Gerald felt there was likely to be a good fallow buck. It didn't take us long to locate a young buck in the heavy cover below. With the rut in full swing, Gerald felt that there had to be more fallow deer nearby. After an hour or so, a big buck suddenly appeared and aggressively ran the little buck off. I could tell by the way Gerald's face lit up that it was indeed a good one. Vanessa slipped a round into the 270 and waited for the big buck to offer a suitable shot. Finally, at 312 yards, he stopped and turned broadside. At the shot, the buck simply began walking up the hill apparently unscathed. But, after a few steps he began to falter and tipped over backwards, the victim of a perfect heart shot.

 

The following day, Gerald suggested we try for chamois again. We headed to a new area and after a short drive, struck off of on foot. After checking out a couple very steep drainages, Gerald spotted a good buck on the opposite side of a particularly nasty canyon. The problem was that he was over 400 yards away and there was no way of getting closer. With the miss two days previous still weighing heavy on my mind, my confidence was shaken but with a little coaxing from Gerald, I found a semi-comfortable shooting position and everything felt good. I was well practiced at ranges well beyond that of the chamois and I gave Gerald a nod. As the last echo of the shot reverberated through the steep canyon, I heard Gerald say, "Good shot." It took us over two hour and some very precarious climbing to get to the downed chamois and I must admit that a great feeling of redemption came over me.

 

There were no tahr in the region we were hunting, so the following day we drove three hours northwest to a sprawling sheep station and that evening we did a short climb and put a couple really good bulls to bed. Originally from the Himalayas, tahr are right at home in the steep mountains of the South Island. It was still early in the season and the bulls were just beginning to grow their lush, long hair coats. Just before dark we located one bull that absolutely glistened in the setting sun. His coat was magnificent compared to all the other bulls and he sported a very impressive set of horns. Vanessa nicknamed him Puffy and he was the focus of attention for the following day.

 

We were up early the following morning and we located the group of bulls not far from where we had put them to bed. It was going to be an arduous 2,000-foot climb but with the tahr in sight, adrenaline carried us up the mountain. After a few hours of playing hide and seek in the dips and folds, Puffy appeared directly above us, about 300 yards away. Vanessa found a comfortable shooting spot, extended the legs on the bipod and found the big bull in her scope. Gerald confirmed that it was indeed the bull we were after and told Vanessa to shoot when she was ready. As the bull stepped onto a rocky outcropping, Vanessa seized the opportunity and placed a perfect shot right in his heart. We were back to camp for lunch.

 

We had seen some more tahr on an adjacent mountain and Gerald suggested we head out late that afternoon and try to put one to bed for the following day. After lunch, we climbed about 500 feet up the mountain and glassed for a while. Then Gerald suggested we climb a bit more. Vanessa gave me one of those looks. We knew that our scouting mission was actually a hunt and for the next few hours, Gerald urged us up the mountain, a couple hundred feet at a time. Soon, we had gained a couple thousand feet and were near where we had seen tahr earlier. Darkness was coming on fast and Gerald suggested we do one last climb to a small copse of trees, from where we would glass until dark. Just as we reached the trees, Gerald hit the dirt and trained his binoculars on the opposite slope. I desperately searched for the focus of his attention but couldn't find it. "It’s a good bull. Take him," Gerald said matter-of-factly. Vanessa had the camera pointed across the valley. "I've got him," she said confidently.

 

Still desperately searching, I finally saw moment high on the slope. I looked through the binoculars and the rangefinder said 326 yards. As if on autopilot, I extended the legs on the bipod and found a comfortable spot in the dirt. Gerald urged me to hurry, as the bull would soon disappear over the ridge. Just as I found him in the scope, the bull paused and the 300 yard crosshair settled high on his shoulder. The report of the rifle surprised me but I had no doubt that the 130 grain bullet had found its mark. The big tahr ran a few steps and then tumbled several hundred yards down the hill. It was well after dark when we staggered back into camp. While Gerald said he had taken two tahr at once several times, this was the first time he'd had hunters do it on two separate mountains on the same day.

 

In six days we had taken six great animals so Gerald suggested we take a day off and then over the course of the next few days, he treated us to some long-range rabbit hunting, Vanessa took a couple of big mature Merriam's turkey and we enjoyed an incredible night of possum hunting. The best way to describe New Zealand is a very target-rich environment.

 

For more information, contact:

Telford Fishing and Hunting Services

http://flyfishhunt.co.nz/