Monday, September 10, 2018

Gary Phillips Safari: Rob Watson's Adventure of a lifetime

Written by Rob and Shirley

This article skips around between first, second, and third person narratives. we apologize to those who care.

An Adventure of a Lifetime.

South Africa, April 25 – May 9, 2018

We flew out Alexandria at 6 am on Tuesday, April 24 ( 3:30 wake up) and spent the night in New York. Stayed at the Holiday Inn Express because they had shuttle service from the airport. Room was nothing special but we barely touched our bags to and from the airport. On Wednesday, April 25 we arrived at South African Airlines where we met with Tom and Ellen, Ron and Shelbi (Ron's daughter) and Bill. Tom and Ellen were the only ones we knew before this trip. Flew out on the 11:15 flight to Johannesburg, South Africa.

After 15 hours on the plane, we landed in Johannesburg at 8 am on Thursday. Tom, Ron, and Bill  had to process their guns through customs, aided by a local company. Rob decided to rent his guns from our host in SA so we did not have to deal with all the gun checks at the various airports. We boarded another plane and flew to Port Elizabeth, SA and arrived there at 3:00 pm. Long trip!

From the airport we went to the Hotel Kelway for our first night. Ellen, Shelbi and Shirley took a walk on the beach after we settled into our rooms. Shelbi picked up sea shells and Shirley picked up a couple of rocks and a sea shell from the Indian Ocean. They browsed the local vendors on the sidewalk and made choices about things they would come back for the next day. That afternoon, all met on the hotel deck for a beer. That evening Tom treated us to dinner at the Coachman on the beach. Dinner only lasted about two hours.

On Friday morning we revisited the vendors and picked up some souvenirs and then met David and Henco, the photographers and Greg, Professional Hunter and Zandile (George), tracker at the hotel. Greg drove us to our first lodge. On the way we stopped at the taxidermist to see what kind of work they did. There were several items from Tom's previous hunts there. We had planned not to take home any trophies ourselves, but changed our minds when we saw the work they did. We will just have to keep them small.  Gary Phillips and his wife Lee organize these safaris.  After the taxidermist we continued to Woodlawns, which is owned by Lee's brother.  We spent a short time sighting in the rifles then drove around the 18,000 acre compound. We saw and photographed large numbers of various game animals.

Greg is our PH and Zandile is our Tracker. Greg's tracker dog is Max, a beautiful beagle. On Saturday, April 28 We went hunting for Warthog. Burt, son of the farmer on whose land we were hunting, joined us as a guide. Greg spotted some warthogs in a valley. We drove to an overlook and Rob took his shot, He pulled down his first animal at 8:30 a.m. at 100 yards. It weighed about 65 pounds. After a fair amount of additional driving he got his second Warthog at 10:30 a.m. at 150 yards and it was also about 65 pounds. He broke both this warthog's back legs.  Burt wanted a pair of the tusks, so after dressing the animals, we chose to keep one set and let him have the other. Greg suggested we also give him a tip… I told him never to tell his parents how much money he had… Then I gave him $20 for his help.

After returning from our hunt we shopped at Lee's shop in the afternoon and picked up a few more souvenirs. Lee had received a shipment of clothing and hats embroidered with the business's logo: Gary Phillips African Safaris. Then we took our rest to prepare for the evening. At each of the lodges, every evening ends with delicious canapes and local foods. This night it was prepared by Lee and Kelly with drinks in the lounge. Toward sunset, we saw 9 giraffes at the pond below the lodge. Thus ended our first day of actual hunting. Our room has a key, on a warthog tusk, that hangs on the inside of the door. We never saw a need for it. 

On Sunday we saw more giraffes, rhino and warthogs at the pond off the patio at Woodlawns. Making our way to our next destination, rising at oh dark hundred to get to an eight AM mass along the way, we discovered the mass was at 9:30. To kill time we had breakfast at Wimpy's. We attended Mass at Sacred Heart in Craddock.  After more driving, we arrived at Mel and Rory's at Cradock Farms in the afternoon. As before we took a short driving tour of the property, another 20,000 acres or so. Greg offers Rob a chance to hunt ducks and geese. First they try jump hunting by sneaking up over the dam of the pond. The ducks make good their escape while Rob is deciding when to shoot. This leaves Greg slightly annoyed. After the hunters sit for a time these same ducks return to the pond, settling within easy range of the shooter. Rob's movement startles the ducks and they take flight, urged on their way by two poorly aimed misses. Another tour of the property leads up the side of a high ridge. Four Bat Ear foxes emerge from the low brush and scamper up the road ahead of us. We surveyed the area from a ridge top and took several pictures.  On returning from this exploration, Greg decides to give Rob another chance at the water fowl. On the way back to the pond, which appears abandoned by the ducks, we see two geese taking their dinner in an alfalfa field. Again the hunters execute a stealthy approach to the prey. The prey wisely decides to take wing. As the hunters discuss their luck the geese circle back directly over where the hunters are standing under a large irrigation unit. Two more hurried misses add urgency to the geese's flight and more irritation to  our professional hunter. Keeping count: four shots, four clean misses. 

Breakfast was always something simple including cereal, breads, cheese and meat trays, fruit and yogurt selections. Lunches that were eaten on the hunt were sack lunches, usually some kind of sandwich, chips, sweets and snacks. Always accompanied by bottled water, soft drinks, beer and wine. Coolers filled with these goodies were the first thing loaded on the truck each morning. Evening meals were several beautiful dishes and always the meat was game, usually Kudu but also Impala, wildebeest, or other plains game. Dinner was usually late, around 8:30-9:00 p.m., after drinks, at a free wet bar, and canapes.

On Monday the serious hunting begins. The hunt area was a 45 minute drive from the lodge. The view was spectacular! One could see forever! It was large open flats mixed with high ridges. The entire area was covered with patches of acacia brush of various sizes and densities. Most of the driving tracks were deeply rutted and scattered with various size stones. This made any driving a jarring experience. After meeting at the central buildings, the four groups of hunters dispersed, each to different part of this 20,000 acre ranch. After a short drive, Greg spotted a herd of Springbok a few hundred yards off the track. It is clear that our camo clothing never fooled anything. Early on, the hunted kept close watch on the hunters. Most animals seemed unconcerned by our presence at a distance.  This attitude diminished once the shooting started. 

The first stalk went on for several minutes over three or four hundred yards. At the critical point Greg set up a tripod rifle rest, pointed out the direction Rob was to aim , then describing what he saw in the scope, directed him in selecting the animal to shoot. It took a moment or so for the Springbok to walk into a clearing in the brush and away from the other animals. Whispered "shoot, shoot, shoot" lead to a clean miss, followed by a cool, silent stroll back to the truck. Five clean misses and counting.

The second stalk began after we drove to the other side of a high ridge… Not really a stalk, so much as a slow speed chase in the truck. This second group of Springbok did not dash hell bent for the horizon as the previous herd had. They only moved a few hundred yards and settled down to graze again. Each pause and graze was interrupted by a clean missed shot. After the second missed shot the Springbok got the Idea and scattered.  Seven clean misses and counting.

A couple of giraffes watch this whole episode. The selected Springbok came to stop at a spot uphill of the giraffes. In sighting through the scope, with the suppressed 30-06 rested on the cushions of the hunting rack on the truck, Rob could see the shot would pass within a dozen feet of the head of one giraffe. At the shot, the Springbok leaped and collapsed, to shouts of joy from everyone except Max the dog. Each taking of an animal was followed by congratulations and handshakes all around. The springbok's front legs were broken and Rob delivered the coup-de-gras. Rob got his first Common Springbok at 290 yards. Rob is blooded by Zandile. (This we will keep for a shoulder mount.) Having missed 3 shots at Springboks, Rob renamed himself Missed-er-Watson, which his hunting guides adopted immediately. 

All of the hunting parties met for Lunch, a bar-b-qued spiral sausage cooked over a charcoal fire and served on a hotdog bun. The lunch site was a partly broken down abandoned brick home site. Other buildings and walls were made of native stone. The hunters and professional hunters then enjoyed an hour's rest in the cool shade of the buildings and trees, sharing stories of the morning successes. Rob spent his rest chatting with Ron. Rested and relaxed, the hunting parties took off for their afternoon hunts. Rob and Greg were the last to be on their way as Zandile was repurposed to skinning and dressing our kill, as well as that of some of the others.

During two hours of the afternoon Rob and Greg rode in the hunting seats, high on the back of the truck. Zandile drove, directed by hand signals from Greg. These two were a well matched pair. They had worked together as a professional hunting team for about five years, with Max the dog who was used to follow the blood trail of wounded animals. Zandile having worked for the King family now a total of 37 years. Both were sharp eyed, seeing animals with the bare eyes that I never saw until pointed out to me, and then usually with my binoculars. From time to time the group would stop when the trail came within a few hundred yards of a ridge. Here the three would search the hillside for game animals.

During one of these pauses, late in the afternoon, a Kudu was spotted high on the side of a ridge. Greg and Rob exited the truck and proceeded to stalk the Kudu through several hundred yards of brush, the animal always visible high above us. At a range of about 300 yards, Greg set up the tripod and aligned Rob with the animal. The Kudu was slowly grazing uphill. He mostly presented a rear end only shot. Rob followed the animal through the scope for what seemed like several minutes, as it got higher up the ridge. Once, for a brief few seconds, a quartering shot from the rear presented itself as the gunman patiently bided his time, looking for a clean broad side shot. In the end Greg decided I should not shoot because a) it is “trophy quality", or b) it would have taken all night to get it down. (Before the hunt started I had specified I did not want to shoot any "trophy" animals because I could not afford to mount them. In return I was allowed to shoot cull animals above our agreed upon number.) I am sure Greg specified 'a' above, though I suspect 'b' was the real reason… with which I fully agree… I might have missed supper.

This was the only hunting that Shirley did not go on. She had brunch and went on a walk as she and Ellen prayed the Rosary. Tom treated us girls to a massage by Lara, Greg's girlfriend. For further entertainment, Ellen got stuck in the loo. Laundry from Woodlawns got mixed up and Rob's underwear was placed in Shelbi's room and her and Ellen decided to throw it away since it wasn't theirs! Laundry was done by the housekeeping staff every day and returned to the rooms before evening, at Woodlawns. At Cradock Farms and Fort D'Acres, Laundry was washed, folded, and stacked in a common area and each person had to find his own. Laundry was dried 'on the line'.

Rob's request to shoot culls resulted in some nice perks. Rob wanted to save the nice trophy animals for a hunter that would mount it. Gary had a Waterbok, with horns that grew skewed to the side and straight, that he wanted culled from the gene pool. Early in Tuesday's hunt, Greg spotted him and drove close to the herd it was in. Rob, shooting from the hunting seat on the truck, took the first shot at 8:00 a.m. at 120 yards. The animal walked a few steps then turns and presented a second broadside for a second shot. Two shots, two clean hits followed by the usual shouts of congratulations. Greg smiles big and says "Rob is back"! (meaning, no more missed-er-Watson)  Zandile said “Good job Old Man!” (Zandile sticks with this through out my other name changes.) This Waterbok had been been in a fight, over night, and one of the horns was broken. (We decided to keep the one good horn.) He was hung and dressed by 9:45 a.m. Rob was able to retrieve a fragment of the bullet. The group remounted the truck and went out in search of other game. Before any game is cleaned and skinned the hunter must decide what he wants done by the taxidermist, as it controls how the animal is skinned.

After a bit of bouncing and jarring in the back of the truck the group came upon a herd of 30 or so Gemsbok. They were wary of the truck so Rob, Greg, and Zandi (it took a while for my ear to catch that Greg called our tracker 'Zandi' instead of 'Zandile' which sounds very like Mandalay)
There was nothing but open area between them and the Gemsbok so, as the hunters approached the game retreated. The hunters setup the tripod a couple of times but no clean shot presented itself. Eventually the herd retreated over the ridge and onto the flats below. The ridge top was scattered with large rocks and boulders. As the hunters reached the edge, looking down, Rob fell and twisted his knee and ankle. As he fell he crushed a large dead bush making one heck of a racket. The two professionals instantly grabbed him to help him up… they each were pulling in a different direction and Rob was jammed down in the bush and between boulders. Rob pleads "give me a second guys." but the tugging continues. Then he says "OK give me a minute." at which time both men release him. After a short rest and self evaluation, Rob gets up unassisted.

Several minutes later, the herd of Gemsbok, undisturbed by this commotion, continue to graze below us. The hunters reposition themselves and Greg seems to set up for a shot. The shot would have been at a very steep down angle and Rob in a conversational voice says he does not want to take it. At which time the Gembok take flight. Greg turns to Rob and speaks sharply "Don't make noise when we are on the hunt".

All this activity leads to two good fireside stories, told later. In Rob's version, he put the sharp rebuke as a response to the fall, as opposed to what really happened. Greg twists the "Give me a second, Guys" and "OK, Give me a minute" into his own humorous tale. After Rob and Greg became more familiar and relaxed around each other a light teasing between them began. On the occasion of a clean kill, when Rob did not see what happened to the animal, Greg would take on a stern look and say "Rob, you missed again!" after a pause during which Rob felt really small, Greg would take on a big grin and slap him on the back, saying "Rob, you got him. He is down." then the usual round of hand shaking and congratulations would follow. This teasing was all in good fun for both men. Zandi mostly stayed out of this frivolity, only commenting one time… in a tale not suitable for mixed company.

After a unified lunch of sandwiches at the ruined homestead, Rob and Shirley's group drove over toward the flats where the Gemsbok were last seen. On the way they saw a herd of 40-45 Springbok plus a Mountain Zebra. On the way back, after a fruitless search they passed a large open patch of ground with a pile of brush and weeds at one end. After driving several yards past the brush, Greg gets out, loads the shotgun and hands it to Rob, whispering one word: "guineas" as they approach the brush pile two birds emerge one takes flight, the other strikes out, running across the open ground. Rob draws a bead on the flying bird as Greg shouts "don't shoot that one!"  By then the runner has made good his escape.

Language presented some interesting situations. As an example, Zandi was introduced as 'George'. But on a couple of occasions Zandi appeared not to respond to that name. Thus Shirley and Rob discovered his real name and called him by it… to which he always responded with a smile. When the Professional Hunters spoke to each other they spoke a foreign Language. (foreign to me) we were told these men were speaking parts of three languages: Accented English, Afrikaans, and Xhosa, a native language, selecting the most appropriate words from each in a mix. During the day, Shirley asked Zandile if a worn area was a game trail. He said “no, it is a footpath for the animals”. A local bird called the Ibis is called Ha Ha bird because it sounds like it is laughing loudly – ha ha ha.

Wednesday, May 2, was a big day for hunting. Rob got his second Common Springbok at 150 yards, again at 8:00 am. (We will keep the hide for a rug. It is very soft and silky, unlike other game animals we have hunted.) This hunt consisted of driving through the brush trying to find a place offering a clear shot at a female Springbok. In the end Greg and Rob stalked on foot while Zandi and Shirley followed in the truck, where possible.

 Following a similar hunting technique they pursued a female Gemsbok. At 9:15 a.m. Rob took his Gemsbok at 305 yards up the mountain side. Unfortunately Rob had broken its legs again and the animal only moved a few yards. Greg chased it down the mountain a short distance to keep from hauling it so far. Greg had taken the rifle up the ridge with the understanding that he would deliver the coup-de-gras.  The group had picked up Fikatini that morning and it was a good thing because the brush was very thick and we could not get the truck very close. The men had to carry the Gemsbok down the hill and through a system of ravines twelve feet deep before getting to the truck. It was also a large animal… four or five hundred pounds. We will keep only the skullcap and horns of the Gemsbok because the horns are very long. 

When driving across country to where the Gemsbok lay, Zandile had to get out and move boulders to make a track. Shirley was fascinated by the termite mounds. They were as big as boulders and over time became hard as rock. Some were about waist high and scattered throughout the fields like boulders. Some you could see where anteaters had been working on them.

After a lunch of sandwiches and goodies, Rob and Shirley continued their rest while Zandi and Greg cleaned the Gemsbok. This task completed, the group set out for more hunting. On the road a group of guineas was spotted. Two more clean misses brought out the Missed-er-Watson comment again. (Well what does one call a guy who has 11 clean misses on game?) At 2:30 that afternoon following a short stalk on foot, Rob got his Mountain Reedbok at 200 yards. It is smaller, weighing about 40-50 pounds. Greg carried it down the mountain as Zandile had gone to help bring another hunters's Kudu down off the mountain. (We will keep this as a shoulder mount.) At the Mountain Reedbok site the group saw Wildebeest, Mountain Zebra, and Cape Buffalo. That evening, the weather turned ugly with thunder, lightning, rain, and hail. Power to the compound failed resulting in no water that night (Shirley was just finishing up her shower when it went off) and into the next day. Some lighting was powered by battery. 

One irritation that I experienced, for a time, was that Greg drove with one hand and mostly fiddled with his iphone, especially during the hunts. I was later to learn that most of this was communication with other hunters, describing where various game animals had been spotted on the property. This came in especially useful on our Kudu hunt.

Thursday the videographer joined our group to record my hunting.  At about 8:00 am, Zandile had been dropped off at the base of a mountain to track and move a Kudu down. As the truck moved to execute 'Plan A', Greg got a call from Gary on another Kudu. Greg then drove to a spot on a field near the buildings. He drove through the brush and trees to a spot through which a tall fence could be seen between two trees. Here he directed me to set the rifle on this gap and wait for the animal to appear. It did not. He then got another call and commenced a high speed drive through the trees to a spot near where the buildings were fenced off. For a flash the Kudu was visible but quickly disappeared again. This lead to a second high speed drive back the direction we had come.  After stopping, Rob and Greg jumped off the truck and walked swiftly through the open brush to a spot where the Kudu was visible. The shooting tripod was set up and the rifle loaded. Rob took one quick shot before the large attractive bull Kudu trotted along the fence past the hunters. Rob was tracking the animal in the scope, trying to get a shot by leading the victim. All this time Greg was whispering "shoot, Shoot, SHOOT!" Rob did not shoot because he could not decide where to place the shot. The Kudu disappeared into the trees. The pair raced back to the truck and commenced a third high speed run through the brush and trees. Each of these runs found Rob trying to hold on to the rifle and the truck as everything bounced energetically over rocks, ruts, stumps and various other incidental obstructions. This chase stopped near the fence again and the pair jumped off and began to look for the animal before it got away completely. After a few minutes the chase became less frantic. Then the Kudu was spotted lying in some thin brush, quite dead.  The usual congratulations were exchanged, Shirley joined Rob at the prize while Greg went to retrieve Zandi, and another helper. The Kudu was shot down at 80 yards. Another big animal weighing about 450-500 pounds. (We will keep the horns that Greg says just “screw out”.) It had become customary to clean up the game and pose it and Rob for pictures. Greg showed great skill with the camera so Shirley would give him hers to take her pictures for her. When Greg finished the still photographs, the videographer took his place and began filming. Greg stood behind the photographer and mimed to Rob that he should be talking to the camera. Rob did not catch on right away. This was our first day with David and Rob wasn't used to being interviewed. He actually expected the guy would ask some questions.

After the Kudu was processed, Rob's hunting at this ranch was complete. This hunting group, Rob, Shirley, Greg, Zandile, Max, and David headed for the hunting lodge. During some of the initial tours of the Cradock Farms, Rob saw, what appeared to be a large jack rabbit, that quickly hopped away, exactly as a jack rabbit would. Greg informed him it was an antelope called a steenbok. Ever after this, Rob called it a bunnybok. One evening he asked Gary if he could take a steenbok. Gary agreed, stating it would come from Cradock Farmes and would cost $300 because it was not part of the original agreement. Now, on the road through Cradock Farms, the group began to search for a Bunnybok. On a pass through a second field, Zandi spotted one near the trail. When the truck stopped the Steenbok hopped away a distance then stopped to check on the hunters. It was taken where it stood. At 12:30 Rob got his Steenbok at 70 yards. It is a small animal, weighing only about 25 pounds (we will keep a shoulder mount of this animal.)

Almost every part of the taken animals is used. The meat is all given to the people in the village or sold or used at the lodges. The heads and hides that are not taken for trophies are kept by the property owners. Even the edible innards are not wasted. The ranch hands collect them and take them home. All of the animals taken by our group are considered antelope so they are all edible. (No exotic animals were harvested by our group.)

For an late afternoon adventure the three hunters and their professional hunter guides loaded in three trucks and went on a waterfowl hunt. We jump hunted a small waterway and Tom Got a duck. Later we came to a large ranch with a large pond and a large alfalfa field with goose decoys set up. Tom and Rob set up by the pond, one on each side. The others went across the alfalfa field.
Rob had many shots himself but found himself, the gun, and the ammunition not up to the task. Ducks headed to the pond mostly came over Tom’s position… You have seen the WWII films of warships in the Pacific with their 40mm antiaircraft guns: boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom at the Japanese aircraft… well, think of that as you imagine the sights and sounds as birds flew over Tom: boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!! The few he brought down usually had a broken wing and had to be chased down on foot.

On Friday all say goodbye to Cradock Farms and drive to the coast. One stop was at a Farm Stahl and we bought books about the area, a second stop at a gun store (Rob can't pass one up) where he bought a camo hat. There he learned it is against the law to go into a gun safe to look at guns. We had a beer at the Pig and Whistle, the oldest continuously licensed pub in South Africa, Established in 1820. Ellen and David rode with us. We arrived at Fort D'Acres in the afternoon. Shirley didn't think anything could be more beautiful than the lodge at Cradock, but this one was and her favorite. They both took many pictures.

Saturday was the last day of serious hunting. The owner of Cradock Farms was also the owner of Fort D'Acres and had an airplane that he flew between them. Our hunt began on his runway where we drove through a small herd of giraffes. Shirley took several pictures. Not far into the open part of the brush Greg spotted an impala, the last of Rob's hunt list. Rob's shot broke one of the animals front legs. It hopped away into thick brush. Rob gave Greg the rifle because he could not keep up with the search, because of his twisted knee. After bit, Rob found himself left behind and alone. When he came to a jeep trail through the brush, he stopped, looked for tracks from the others and the Impala, then sat down to wait. After a few minutes Greg, Zandi, and Max reappeared, did their search for tracks, then disappeared again. Rob heard Max baying in the distance and decided to make his way through the thick stuff back to the truck. As he was nearing the edge of the thick brush he heard the truck horn beep and the engine start. When he broke into the clear, the truck was waiting a few yards away. He got in and Zandi drove to where Greg had downed the Impala. Then came the usual back slapping and congratulations, followed by picture and now, a video interview.

At 8:30 am. Rob shot his Impala at 260 yards. A medium sized animal weighing about 180-200 pounds. Greg and Zandile tracked it for an hour after it was shot, as Rob had broken its front leg. Rob continued to wander in the thick brush until Zandile picked him up, after Max found the impala. Good job Max! Rob has adopted the nicknamed Phuka Unlenze (break a leg). (We will keep a shoulder mount of this animal.) Ticks were everywhere in this area. Each day ended with a search for any that may have joined us for a meal. After the hunt we drove around the compound and saw Zebra, Giraffe, Warthogs and Nyala. After lunch Rob, Shirley, Ellen, Shelbi and Bill were driven to a nice lookout over the beach area then walked on the beach. A fence with a locked gate blocked the trail to the beach. The group struggled through the deep sand and brush to get around this fence. On returning to the overlook they found the key to the gate.

Mel took Shirley, Ellen, and Bill to St. James Church in Port Alfred. A child about 3 years old came up and hugged the priest around his legs during communion. This group later took another driving tour of the ranch.They saw Cape Buffalo and more Giraffe. Huge animals!

Sunday at 6:30 a.m. Rob went deep sea fishing with Tom, Ron, Shelbi, and David the videographer.  The water was moderately rough with wind and seas of up to three feet running in differing directions. The railing on the boat was only 18 inches high, making moving around somewhat precarious. The first stop was about 15 miles off shore. Here a reef rose to within 160 feet of the surface. All the fishing lines were baited with squid and heavily weighted. Rob's experience was the the weights were so heavy that he could not tell if there was a fish on his line or not. He would feel a tug on the line and reel the whole 160 feet of line in. Sometimes there was a fish, sometimes not. Three or four baby sharks were caught and thrown back. After a number of fish were caught on the reef, the boat set up for trolling for tuna and headed for blue water. Out there the water was a spectacular clear blue, the Mosambique current. They trolled for hours but only caught one fish. The boat paused at the deep reef until a few more fish were caught, then headed in. At the dock two men were available to clean the catch. Rob caught 8 fish, half of the total catch and everyone ate them for dinner that night. .

On Monday, May 7, Greg and Zandile had to leave. Len took us to a Game Drive (game drive means ‘drive around a game preserve and look at the animals’) on the Fish River with Ellen and Bill. First part was a boat ride to see birds and jelly fish. Then we boarded a land cruiser to see game. Michael was our guide. We had lunch on the tour. We wanted to see elephants, which we did not, but we did see a Rhino and nice pride of lions with cubs.

The lodges we stayed in were nothing short of mansions. In the last one on the coast, Shirley was able to have her coffee in bed while watching the sun come up over the Indian Ocean and watch waves crashing on the beach, through the big bay window.

Tuesday was the saddest day of all as we had to leave South Africa. It was an extremely long flight home. We left the lodge on Tuesday at 8 am and did not arrive back in Alexandria until 11 pm on Wednesday… 48 hours of driving, flying and waiting in airports. Pictures from the photographers should come in about 4 months. Trophies will take at almost one year before they are shipped to us. Estimated trip cost is about $20,000. That does not include the taxidermist.

This was truly an adventure of a lifetime… and we are trying to sell half of what we own to get enough to go back again.

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