The Essence of Life

The Essence of Life

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Sunset


Saint-Exupéry flying?

It took me a long time to start to appreciate sunsets.

The first book that I read where sunsets were an integral part of it, almost a character was “Le Petit Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, the French flight pioneer that disappeared during a recognizance flight over the Mediterranean in 1944.

Some years later I read Monteiro Lobato’s “A Chave do Tamanho”, one of the many stories that compose the Brazilian classic “O Sítio do Picapau Amarelo” where the author tries to find a solution for a World War II that is devastating the planet and mankind. In the opening paragraph the main characters are watching what Emília – the rag doll – calls “um por-de-sol de trombeta” or a “trumpet sunset”, when the Sun plays a trumpet to call all the colors, specially the reds and yellows and coppers to build a fantastic show.

I used to think that sunsets where melancholic, but now I recognize that they are another component – beautiful, grandiose, emotive – of what we call a day, and that is must happen otherwise how could we appreciate the moon and stars, or the sun rising the next morning?

I really attempted to capture the pelican flying over Marco Island beach while the sun was setting over the Gulf of Mexico. Afterwards I started to think that the lonely pelican could represent Saint-Exupéry still flying.

“On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.” – The Fox


Saturday, October 20, 2012

Woodcock


A new experience in Northern Michigan

This weekend my wife and I came to Traverse City, Northern Michigan Lower Peninsula, to enjoy the fall colors, relax and pick-up two shotguns that Del Whitman (www.dcwhitmangunsmithing.com) was working on for me.

Although the weather was less than great (and that is being positive), we had fantastical views during the almost three-hour drive, with all tones of auburn, yellow, copper, orange and red blasting out of the landscape, with patches of ever greens trespassing here and there.

My wife and I first came to Traverse City during the US Labor Day weekend (first Monday of September) and we fell in love with the place. We needed vacations and wanted to spend a lot of time together doing “nothing at all”, but I used the opportunity to meet Del, who was recommended by my friend Tony South, and drop the two shotguns that needed work.

One of the shotguns is a little Beretta 28 gauge side-by-side box lock that my mother bought in 1969 to my dad as a wedding gift. The well balanced gun was probably made in the late 1950’s, and although mechanically solid, the old lady needed some “make-up”.

While discussing the project with Del – lengthening the chambers to 2 ¾” (70 mm), rebluing the barrels and all furniture, refinishing and re-checkering the stock and fore end – we talked a bit or a lot about bird hunting, especially grouse and woodcock, and we made plans to hunt together sometime in October, when I could be back “up North”.

Yesterday morning I met Del at his place and I was nothing but delighted with his work. The little Beretta was gorgeous, the bluing perfect and the checkering sharp. The overall fit and finish just perfect. But guns were born to be used, and even if this is the most valuable gun that I own I could not deny its destiny.

While I put on my boots and brush pants, Del loaded his German short-hair, Gina and Zap, in his car, and we took off towards some of the fantastic public hunting land that is so overwhelmingly present in Michigan, especially its Northern portions.

Gina went on point very close to car and Del directed me to flush the woodcock that was holding under an evergreen pine, and as it flushed I killed, or at least severely injured, a tree! I just can figure how that branch moved in to cover the woodcock flight path.

We continued to brave the woods, and that was a challenge for me, as I am used to hunt open uplands, especially the Uruguayan pampas, and I missed a couple more flushes and then Del got a bird with a beautiful shot from his Browning over-under 28 gauge.

And then Gina went on point again and as we walked in a woodcock flushed and he fell to left barrel of my little Beretta. What a beautiful bird is the Scolopax minor. Although smaller than the Beccaccia (Scolopax rusticola) – la regina del bosco – I held in my hand in Italy, it had the same inebriating perfume. It was also very similar to the South American Narceja (Gallinago paraguaiae) that I once hunted in Uruguay, although it inhabits much open grounds than its Northern hemisphere relatives.

We continued hunting and Del bagged two more woodcock, one over Gina and the other over Zap.

A memorable, if bitter-sweet, moment happened when Gina flushed a Ruffed Grouse (Bonasa umbellus) and Del had the rare and perfect crossing shot, only to face a misfire due to a bad shell. It was the first time I heard their peculiar drumming, and that created another pleasant memory.

Despite my poor shooting I hope to be able to hunt the Michigan Northern woods again, and I hope that Del, and especially Gina and Zap, won’t mind if I come back.

And today I hope that Zezé will let me taste at least one of wines from Old Mission Peninsula.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Best Blind I Ever Hunted From


A Tropical Igloo

The first blinds I hunted from back in my childhood days at Fazenda Taboa were nothing more than a bunch of branches piled up under a likely tree that would disguise the “hunter’s” outline from the always sharp vision of the big white winged pigeons (Patagioenas picazuro, formerly known as Columba picazuro), and allow us to shoot them at close enough range so the tiny load of No. 12 shot from the .310 rimfire “Mini-Skeet” shotgun would bring them down from the branches they were perched and into our fry pan.

Later on I hunted capybaras (Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris) in the farm swamps from giraus or elevated shooting platforms, some of which were nothing more than a fork in a branch where we perched from, while we called the capybaras with whistles made from bottle caps.

A couple decades later when I started hunting whitetail deer in Michigan I started using different pop-up blinds, and most deer that I bagged over the last ten years where shot from one of these practical and relatively inexpensive blinds.

The one down side of most pop-up blinds is that they are not ideal to bow hunt from, most of them lacking the space and height for a proper draw.

Last April my friend (and at that time, co-worker) Fanie Venter invited me for a weekend bow hunting in South Africa’s Limpopo. My adventure in the bushveld was both unforgettable and bitter-sweet, and this is the first time that I write about it.

Fanie’s brother-in-law Pieter and his friend and business partner Louis have a game farm in the heart of Limpopo’s bushveld and they are developing it to be a bow hunter’s paradise, since both are fanatic bow hunters.

Falmouth is simple and rustic, yet it is welcoming and idyllic. It shows the results of Pieter and Louis hard work and ideals, as well their love of hunting and of wilderness and respects for all its facets and idiosyncrasies. Because there are Black Mamba and Puff Adder in the bushveld both Pieter and Louis wear high boots made of strong but soft Kudu leather, and since Pieter’s wife met the resident leopard on her way to the outhouse, he is now building an inside bathroom so he does not need to escort her out during nights.

But back to hunting blinds…

Like most of South Africa, Limpopo’s bushveld is dry, and there is no surface water at Falmouth, so Pieter and Louis drilled a borehole and pump water with the help of solar panels which they provide to the resident wildlife in a “waterhole”, and in front of it they build a blind from where they can bow hunt.

The construction starts by digging a hole about three feet deep and at least seven feet in diameter. Then small gauge construction rebar was placed around the circle as the structure for this tropical igloo. The structure was wrapped with chicken wire and wet newspaper placed over it. The final touch is to cover everything with cement so it resembles a rock or boulder.

But the devil is in the details, and there are many nice features to this blind. The spotting windows are covered with “see-through” mirror, so the hunters inside can see outside, but animals cannot see any movement inside. There are three shooting windows, and because the floor is lower than the water hole, the bow hunter would have a flat shot at the intended animal, without having to worry about which would be the trajectory from a steep angle, like if shooting from a tree stand.

The floor of the blind was covered by rugs and blankets that would muff the hunter’s footsteps, there are sitting benches and you can keep all your gear in the ample area. Finally, there is a four inch PVC pipe that stands at least twelve or fifteen feet above the blind roof that serves both as ventilation as well to send the hunter’s sent away from the area.

Needless to mention that when not in use the blind is kept well closed in order to prevent some of the local reptile to take residence in its cooler interior or the many blue monkeys to havoc the place.
From this fantastic set-up I spent several hours watching the African wildlife cornucopia, including the most beautiful Impala ram I ever saw and that I was able to completely miss at around twenty yards, killing a tree with the broad head arrow instead, sand grouse which came picking their own image in the mirrors, a magnificent but somewhat young Kudu bull that I was “mature” enough not to shoot, guinea fowl, a large troop of the aforementioned blue monkeys, more impala, a very long eared rabbit, and warthog, one of which broke my heart.

Falmouth also holds blue wildebeest and Pieter and Louis were planning on releasing Gemsbok later on the year. As most, if not all, South African game ranches Falmouth has twelve foot high fences around it, but that fence cannot contain either the warthogs that go under it, or Kudu that just fly over the highest wire without much concern.

But back to warthog and a broken heart. Towards the end of the afternoon traffic really picked up around the waterhole, and both the large impala ram that I had missed earlier and a couple of great warthogs were around.

When opportunity came I shot the largest warthog and it immediately dived into the surrounding bush. Pieter called Louis and Fannie back at the lodge, and then we started tracking the wounded animal. And I received a lesson in tracking and disappointment.

We came back well after dark without locating the animal, and next morning we tracked it for several hours, until the spoor and blood were gone. Mea culpa, mea unica culpa.

A week later I got an e-mail from Pieter telling me that they had found the dead warthog, but it was already all rotten. I just hope that the resident leopard had a nice meal out of my mistake.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Feasting on the Algoma Bear


(L to R) Denny, John (the "nefu"), Jim, author, Jeff and Bob

Sharing the bounties of the chase is one of the most rewarding aspects of hunting. So, just after Jeff finished dressing my bear (see “Algoma Bear Hunt”), he set aside a tenderloin that Gail and Steve, the owners, managers and staff of “Half Way Heaven”, prepared for the whole gang the following evening.

Since I had no reason to continue to hunt for bears I spent the day with Jeff replenishing bates, checking trail cameras, looking for bear signs, and just learning anything that I could about bears, guiding and the outdoors.

By the end of the day I was as hungry as anyone and eager to taste bear for the first time, as all the other hunters, that were not fortunate enough to live in the big North woods and have bear around on a regular basis.

Gail and Steve prepared a delicious Barbecued Bear, but I prefer to call it “Bear-BQ”, and we all got together to wolf it down along a bottle of Volver, a nice Spanish red wine.

The bear was delicious, and I took the liberty to present the receipt below.

Back home, we prepared and served “Bear-BQ” on several occasions, and almost every person that tried either loved or at least liked it. But now the bear meat is finished and it may be time to go collect some more.

Barbecued Bear (or Bear-BQ)

Parboil 2 pounds bear meat (thawed & boneless, I also remove all the fat) in water, for about 10 minutes.

Prepare BBQ Sauce while meat is cooking.

Place several slices of bacon in Dutch oven, or large cast iron pan, and sauté the parboiled meat on all sides.

Add the BBQ Sauce and simmer with meat over medium heat for at least half and hour or till tender.

BBQ Sauce

·       ½ Cup of Water
·       4 Oz. Tomato Sauce
·       2 Medium Onions, sliced
·       1/8 Tea Spoon Garlic Powder
·       2 Table Spoon Brown Sugar
·       ¼ Tea Spoon Dried Mustard
·       1/8 Cup Lemon Juice
·       1/8 Cup Vinegar
·       1/8 Cup Ketchup
·       1 Table Spoon Worcestershire Sauce

Mix all ingredients and simmer for at least 10 minutes.