Professional Hunter - John Weavind, South Africa

Name: John Weavind
Age: 42 years
Interests/Hobbies: Pointing Dogs, Gym, Law, Evolution, Genetic Science, Business, Technology, Wild Habitats and Wild creatures, Marketing, Salesmanship, Public Education and Training!
Member of: Professional Hunters Association of South Africa, The South African Hunt, Point and Retrieve Field Trial Clubs and The Marketing institute of South Africa
Favorite animal to hunt: Blue Wildebeest
Favorite caliber: 30-06
My backup rifle: 458 Winchester Magnum
My clients best trophies to-date: 41” Oryx, 56” Kudu Bull, 24 7/8” Impala Ram
Something about you that most clients do not know: I have a Master Degree in Economics
Currently Hunting: South Africa, Northern Natal and Northern Cape provinces. I hunt Mocambique, Namibia and Zimbabwe, normally for Buffalo or other game that is easier to get than in South Africa.
Email: huntpro@wirelessza.co.za
Telephone: 082 341 1739 (we only use cell phones since landlines don’t work from in rural South Africa)
Website address: www.birdhunt.co.za
NOTE: The bird hunting operation belongs to me. I work as a freelance contactor for local outfitters on game animals.

 

One of my most memorable hunts

 

              

 

 

My Most memorable hunt took place when I was an apprentice Professional Hunter in Zambia in 1993. South Africa was just beginning to shake off Apartheid and the African countries north of us were doing their best to lure us to their hunting grounds try and take advantage of our interest in finding new hunting grounds north of us.

 

I was seconded by an outfitter to an area 200 Kilometers South of Congo and about two hundred kilometers west of Angola. I was to do everything required from a PH in the Field and I was to do that under supposedly fully qualified PH’S. Now since we were coming out of an era of Sanctions and isolation I became aware that the PH’S that were supposedly qualified didn’t have much experience with foreign clients, and most of them hadn’t shot or hunted anything much bigger than a Kudu or Eland back home.

 

The area we were in was extremely remote; kiaat (a tall tree) forests covered hundreds of square kilometers. The local people who were very few still practiced hunter/gatherer type existences. They were entirely at the mercy of their environment and were literally wild people. A broken toe for them meant certain death, they were not aware of things such as medical treatment or Doctors. They wore skins and reeds around themselves and the concept of a White man or a cool drink was still foreign to them. Kiaat forests covered hundreds of square kilometers and between those were dried pans that flooded in rainy seasons, these pans were known as Dambo’s. The animals would graze on the pans and run into the surrounding forest when threatened, they would only go a maximum of 300 meters into the forests, if they weren’t perused because it was completely devoid of any kind of life sustaining things in there; even birds weren’t to be found more than 300 Meters in. In the forests the sand was almost chalkish and finer than beach sand and it was extremely hot the further one ventured into the forests. This was an area not far from the Angolan Border which was west of us, Congo was north of us. Large Sable Antelope were plentiful; Lichtenstein Hartebeest, Chobe Bushbuck, Leopard, Lion, Buffalo, Elephant, Zebra, Blue Wildebeest, Cheetah, Puku and Red lechwe were seen almost daily.    

 

Two days after arriving we received three Texans into the Camp. They immediately began throwing down literally tons of Whisky and other booze. The party went on late into the night and we awoke at 04h00 because unlike South Africa, Zambia is an absolutely massive hunting ground. It took three hours drive just to reach the borders of the Buffalo areas even though we’d had lions roaring close to our camp the previous night. We crossed two Bulls making their way across the road and into the kiaat forest at around 08h00 (I suppose to cool off for the day on the edge of the forest) one of the Bull s was a good trophy so we decided to follow them in. The Guys from Texas were not only jetlagged from their flight the previous day but were also under considerable strain from the previous nights Whisky drinking. Shortly, we came upon the Two Bulls that were now eying us and the bigger Texan took a shot at the big bull, this turned out to be a Gut Shot and the Bull took off further and further from the Land Cruiser. I looked at my Watch and made a mental note that it was around 09h00 AM. After following blood spoor for about another three hours we came upon the Bull again and the Texan put him down. At this stage I estimate it was around 12h00 and it was around 40 degrees centigrade. Everyone was already kind of exhausted at this stage and then the Big Texan turned around to ask us for Water. I looked at the PH and he looked at the tracker, there was no Water to be had.  We now had a considerable problem because we were miles from the Cruiser and the Texans were taking a lot of strain, it was a no-brainer, neither they nor we would make it back to the Cruiser without seriously dehydrating ourselves. The PH decided it would be best to send the tracker back to the Cruiser and fetch Water since it was not possible to drive the Cruiser back to where we were, he’d have to hump the water and skinning utensils back to us. It was around 13h30 when the tracker took off and left us. I was also beginning to feel my tongue swelling up from thirst at this stage and the heat had climbed to around 42 Degrees.

 

 Well 13h30 turned into 15h30 and then into 16h30. Word started going around that the Zambian tracker was actually trying to kill us so that he could get hold of our things in Camp. Delirium was beginning to affect the Texans and the PH because they had put down way too many Whisky’s the night before and were getting seriously dehydrated. At this stage my Tongue had swollen to the Point that I could not speak properly. At this stage we decided to try and find our way back to the Cruiser on our own, we had no idea what had happened to our tracker and we didn’t care. The going was seriously tough through that chalky sand and before long nightfall set in. Panic had taken hold of us and this only contributed to the thirst which was now at the point of desperation. I suffered no end of Hallucinations and my tongue was like a dry Grapefruit, all the workings of my throat had ceased to operate and any thought of water was pure torture. Somewhere shortly after nightfall the big Texan collapsed. He lay with his back to a tree and mumbled about how we were to leave him there and carry on without him. At this stage the smallest of all three Texans took charge of the situation, he told us all to shut up (since everyone was constantly giving random and useless advice to everyone else) and he told his buddy to get onto his feet. He refused to allow anybody but me to say anything about the direction we were taking because I think I’d mentioned something to him that seemed to make sense, and he wanted to know my opinion on how best we should proceed under the circumstance. It seemed he had now lost all faith in our PH who was looking really terrible at this time. Just before the big Texan had collapsed I had managed to calm myself enough to think back to the early morning just before we had seen the Buffalo, I told the smaller Texan that when we left the Cruiser that morning I had for some reason taken note that the morning Sun was to our right, which meant the Sun had been East of us. We had then headed almost due West after the Buffalo. Now that it was dark the only direction indicator we had was the Southern Cross. This meant we needed to walk with the Southern Cross directly to our right which would then put us in an Easterly direction and hopefully back towards the road we had been driving in on that morning. Obviously we didn’t know what we’d do when or if we got to the road but getting there was a start and our only hope at this time, and we all agreed we’d take it from there. 

 

I stepped forward and slung the big Texans arm around my shoulder while the other Texan slung his other arm around his shoulder and through the Forest we stumbled. It was an almighty effort with none of us having any idea if we’d survive this ordeal. I knew for sure that if I didn’t get water into me by the next morning I would certainly be unconscious or worse. The Big Texans’ head had tipped forward by now but he was taking most of his own weight as we stumbled forward. I estimate it was 10h30 PM and nobody had said a thing for about two hours when the Texan suddenly exclaimed that we were walking over the road. We, the Texan who was helping him along and I were at the back of the group, the others had walked directly across the road (which was just two big snake paths really), I looked down and sure as sherbet, it was the road. Dead on my feet I fell to the ground, lay on my back and passed out. Sometime around 2h00 am I awoke to find the Zambian tracker who had left us in the bush that morning was pouring a 20 liter barrel of Water over my face. I drank really slowly and in small sips as was the instruction from somebody, I still don’t know who!

 

Well it took a while to regain my senses. I was really groggy and rather confused. Looking around I was the only one that had managed to stand on my feet. All three Texans and the PH were in a really bad way. We had a first class medical kit back at the Camp so the only thing we could do now was to load everyone on the vehicle and make them as comfortable as possible and head directly for camp. Along the way everyone was sipping Water and slowly we all seemed to be coming around. Back at camp, Drips were put up on the three Texans and the PH. I was by now doing okay but I had a cracking headache. Somebody in Camp had radioed Lusaka that we had gone missing and an aero plane flew in early the next morning and flew the big Texan to Hospital in Lusaka. He was still suffering from dehydration and he was not very lucid.

 

What transpired was that the Zambian tracker had got himself hopelessly lost while trying to get back to the vehicle when we sent him for Water earlier that day. He was not a local from the area so he didn’t have much more idea about where we were than we did. When he eventually got to the vehicle which was around 5h30pm, he fetched the Water and headed directly back to where he’d left us, only to find that we’d departed. He became very concerned when he looked at our tracks and saw we were heading in the wrong direction from the road. Before dark and realizing there was now a very serious problem went back to the vehicle. He then drove the cruiser up and down the road blowing the horn thinking that the sound would travel far in the still night and alert us to the direction we should take. Well I never heard any hooting but he said when he saw us lying on the road he really couldn’t believe his eyes.

 

The tracker then set off with some other camp people to fetch the Buffalo which remarkably had not been predated on through the night. The Cape and meat was however useless by now so they only returned with the Horns.

 

We took a day off and then the hunt proceeded with the other two Texans. We were in Radio contact with Lusaka who said the Big Texan was okay and he’d return to the hunt two days later. In all we shot a large bag of trophies on that hunt with those Texans and all talk of the first day’s disaster quickly subsided. In all we shot eight Buffalo, three Sable, six Lechwe, six Puku, four Wildebeest, three Chobe Bushbuck, one Zebra, A lion, Two Duiker, five lichtenstein Hartebeest and a Leopard that we shot during daylight!

 

I now carry Water even if I’m going for a short stroll after an Impala. I also have a deep respect for Texans!