No matter how you were introduced to Africa, you undoubtedly cannot forget it. I remember a couple old books in my home growing up that talked of true wild Africa hunting. When I first read of Teddy Roosevelt’s journeys on safari to eastern Africa, I knew he told of something special that I wanted to someday see for myself.
Most international hunters I have spoken with tell you that Africa gets in your blood and you will have a hard time not returning as often as possible. It is my desire for adventure that helped make my decision to join our Membership Drive hunt winner, Kent Woodard from Colorado, on his hunt-of-a-lifetime last December. Kent had recently won a Cape buffalo safari through Huntin’ Fool’s partner, Link’s Wild Safaris. Kent and I had never met before, but as he was a longtime Huntin’ Fool member, I knew we were in store for a monumental trip. After many conversations with Jay Link about his experiences in Africa and his unique partnerships with local hunting companies, we were comfortable and set to go for the late season hunt.
Our travel arrangements to the capital of Tanzania, Dar es Salaam, were far different than the boat and train rides that were necessary for our hunting ancestors to reach the Dark Continent. Catching the 13-hour direct flight to Istanbul, Turkey via the top-rated Turkish Airlines was a breeze. The helpful staff, comfortable seating, and endless Turkish food options made it tough to complain about the jump to the other side of the globe. With a quick layover at the entrance to the Eastern world in an extremely busy airport, we made it to our eight-hour flight south to Dar es Salaam, the largest city in Tanzania. This flight took us directly over Cairo, Egypt, which gave me a bird’s eye view of the Great Pyramids and the Nile River floodplain. At that point, I knew this adventure was going to take us a step back in time.
The uncertainty that comes with hunting internationally was very well handled by Link’s partner company, Mkwawa Safaris, and their staff while we were in the country. When our plane landed at 3 a.m. local time, Sadick Kayera was there to meet us inside the airport and helped translate and make sure we received our visas, luggage, and firearms properly. He had spent hours before our arrival at police stations dealing with custom forms to make sure all of our permits were properly in order. From the airport arrivals desk, Allan Leslie met us to give us a ride to the beachside hotel where we would catch some sleep for a few hours. As soon as we exited the airport, the humidity hit us and we knew that we were no longer in the northern hemisphere winter. It was hot, wet, and the start of summer in Tanzania.
The next afternoon, we met up with our two assigned Professional Hunters (guides) who would become great friends of ours over the next 10 days. Deon Van Der Westhuizen and his cousin, Dylan Cloete, more commonly known as West and Cloete, were no strangers to the East Africa experience. Their short shorts and dark, suntanned skin bore testament to the ending of a long season in the bush. They explained to us what to expect as the last few hunters of the season and what kind of trophies they would try to locate for us. We enjoyed a few nice meals on the beach with loads of fresh local fruit and homestyle cuisine. Later that day, we embarked on a very nice and air-conditioned Cessna 208 Caravan airplane owned by the Mkwawa Safaris’ corporation almost 200 miles southwest into the heart of the Selous Game Reserve.
Named after big game hunter and conservationist Frederick Selous, the game reserve is over 20,000 square miles of remote wilderness, seemingly undisturbed except at a few locations where privately leased hunting camps are located. Managed by the government of Tanzania and set aside for hunting, this was much different than the private-land estate hunts popular in the southern regions of Africa. Mkwawa Safaris had spent countless hours improving their concession leases with top-quality tent style camps common to this style of hunting. Our camp was situated right on the banks of the Kilombero River, which was full of noisy pods of hippos, tiger fish, and the elusive crocodile resting for the day in the shallow waters. The staff of over 20 individuals met us with fresh fruit drinks and smiles all around as we headed to get settled in our private rooms for the evening.
That first evening, I told my PH, Deon, that I really desired to hunt for an old buffalo on foot, following tracks and being in the thick vegetation with them. I had heard the term “dagga boy” and wanted to see if it really was a thing. He explained that typically the old bulls that are past their prime get tired of running around with the herds or they get kicked out by the younger, dominant bulls and become a dagga boy. I was ready for the adrenaline rush of tracking such a dream animal.
After a hearty breakfast consisting of bacon, eggs, toast, and more fresh fruit than I knew how to eat, we were off for the first day of our hunt. We decided to split up to cover the most ground, trying to find a buffalo track worthy of pursuit. I saw herds of buffalo, a few lonely elephants, more hippos than one could count, two crocodiles basking in the sunlight near the riverbank, and countless herds of impala and hartebeest. It felt as if I had stepped into a National Geographic feature film. We were surrounded by an incredible number of wild game everywhere we went. We found a few bull buffalo tracks and followed them until our shirts were so soaked by sweat that they were stuck to our skin like glue. It felt great to be in the bush, .375 in hand and on the trail of buffalo.
The solitariness of the Selous’ hunting blocks were amazing. No human traffic is allowed, no planes passed overhead, no tourist vehicles, literally nothing but the Mkwawa staff and wild game populations. Everywhere we went we were accompanied by an appointed game scout who was required to be with us on every stalk and hunt throughout the safari. He wielded an AK-47 for protection and was skilled in the anti-poaching efforts of the game reserve. He spoke decent English and kept up pretty well with our trackers while on all of our stalks.
After returning to camp the first evening, Kent showed up with an absolute giant buffalo bull in the back of their Land Cruiser. We were all in shock, including his PH, Dylan, at the sheer size of this trophy bull. It stretched the tape at 44" wide, and Kent was smiling from ear to ear. He had always dreamed of harvesting a Cape buffalo, and now he had just taken one of the largest bulls of the season in this area. Our evening celebration consisted of a multi-course meal provided by the first-class camp staff, an Ebony wood fire, and a few cold drinks. (I enjoyed my Coca Cola, and the other guys enjoyed the local brewery specialties).
Over the next four days, I lost count of how many buffalo we tracked. Deon and I lead the trackers into every canyon, riverbed, and thicket around. We had laughs, close encounters with younger buffalo, and picnic lunches under the shade of Baobab trees and burned through dozens of water bottles. We hadn’t found the perfect buffalo that I was looking for, an old, lonesome worn-down bull, but we were enjoying the journey.
On day five, we were cruising down the rough road atop the Land Cruiser when our tracker slammed his hand on the side of the vehicle. He told us to stop, and I wondered what he had seen. We walked back up the road 50 yards to a buffalo track in the soft dust on the road. I wondered how in the world he would have seen this track while motoring at 40 mph. Sure enough, the single track indicated a dagga boy, so off we went into the brush again.The skilled trackers proved time and time again that they could sort out the vegetation and dirt to keep us right on the trail of Black Death. A short time later, we caught a glimpse of an oxpecker bird perched on the shoulder of a bull buffalo slowly feeding away from us. Deon judged the bull to not be very wide but that he was an ancient bull, worthy of taking if I so desired. I was sold on him. I eased the rifle up over the top of the shooting sticks and waited for the bull to feed out from the brush, a meer 80 yards away from our position. Bull fever set in as I focused on squeezing off the shot-of-a-lifetime. The soft point 300 grain bullet hit him hard right where I had intended, and he bucked and took off quickly. By the time I could reload, he was headed down the hill and out of sight. Deon and I rushed forward so that we could get eyes on him, but he had already collapsed. The bull was down. It was one of the best feelings I’ve had in my hunting career to walk up on such a unique animal, one of the famous Big 5, and know that he was now mine.
We took hundreds of photos in the midday sun and subsequent monsoon rainstorm and began the journey of cutting him up to bring him back to camp. I couldn’t believe I had a Cape buffalo to bring home and the story to tell my children about it. The pressure was off now, and I began to relax a little bit more to enjoy the rest of our safari. Kent and I hunted together the rest of the time, and I watched him take a great Nyasa wildebeest, Burchell’s zebra, and Lichenstein hartebeest. I couldn’t help myself from wanting to hunt another few unique Tanzanaian species and decided to take a large male Yellow baboon and a Lichenstein hartebeest of my own.
I cannot accurately describe how nice the camp and staff were in Mkwawa’s concession. Each staff member was highly skilled and dedicated to one specific job. This ensured that the best skinner was assigned to prepare our trophies, our cook was skilled as a chef, and there was someone to help us feel like royalty everywhere we turned. The Link’s Wild Safaris advantage was definitely felt here. Owner Jay Link makes sure to travel to each hunting camp that he recommends to make sure everything lives up to his clients’ expectations. I felt safer here in the middle of nowhere Africa than I do on most hunts in Alaska.
If you take one thing away from this article, I hope it is a desire to one day travel to East Africa to see it for yourself. With one stroke of the pen here in the U.S.A., entire industries can shutter in countries there. It is sad that the Fish & Wildlife Service has the ability to control the livelihoods of the people of Africa. Conservation repercussions can be seen almost instantly there. Animals that are not able to be hunted and exported lose their value and will undoubtedly be killed by poachers or replaced with livestock. There is not enough money in tourism alone to sustain the resources needed to support wild game; we must step up and be hunters. I hope you have a desire to go see Africa before it cannot be seen anymore, and remember, take your wife with you. My only regret is not having my spouse with me on this safari. Go to Africa!