Lets put the bow in my travel case ready for my trip in a few days.
With Covid and the uprising they had in Noumea, no one was permitted to hunt or buy ammunition. It only became available two weeks prior to our arrival last August.
The deer numbers had increased massively compared to my last visit in 2019. Having more deer means more eyes when I’m trying to get close enough for a bow shot.
With the contour of the land being quite hilly and right on the coast, the wind is swirly and unpredictable. I got busted so many times in the first four days, but every time was so exciting, I loved it.
I was sneaking along a grassy track wide enough for a vehicle to travel, with thick shrubs, paperbark gum trees and tall grass up to my shoulders on either side of me. This beautiful six point stag just casually stepped out of the trees about 50 metres in front of me. Our eyes locked onto each other at the same time, not sure who got the bigger surprise. He spun on his back feet and shot back into the trees. WOW that was close and exciting. So cool. I was looking to see where he went. Then he steps out again, broadside, staring straight at me like he had never seen a human before. His antlers were glowing orange in the last sun of the day from the trees he had been rubbing on. Expecting him to explode off again, I soaked a few seconds up just enjoying his presence. Then I thought, he’s still there! Maybe I can get a shot at him. Slowly lifting the rangefinder, 48 metres, click my release aid onto my string, draw the bow back, he’s still there. Twang, off goes the pointy stick. The stag drops to the ground while spinning his body and disappearing into the trees. Sailing over his shoulder my arrow lodged into the base of a young paperbark tree. Man these deer are as fast as a fallow, unbelievable. I was grinning from ear to ear after that experience. Out came the fold-up pruning saw to retrieve my arrow.
The next day I borrowed a rifle so I could get some antlers to take home and some meat for my friends. By 10am I had a fantastic stag on the ground at 200yards from where I was sitting, stoked.
On my last day I had the morning to hunt before we left the block. My New Caledonian friend wanted to come with me to experience a bow hunt. Heavy rain had fallen through the night, so it was neat to see a cracker sunrise and clear sky for the start of the day. Stags were everywhere, roaring, chasing hinds, chasing each other. It was nuts! How to get close to a good stag, that’s the dilemma. We crept into a gap in some bushy trees growing in a wide drain. Some hinds had spotted our movement but didn’t sound an alarm call, just stood there staring in our direction from about 70 metres. From the right, a huge stag with an extra tine (Rusa usually have six points) came walking to the hinds. He didn’t seem bothered by them standing on guard looking towards us. He started feeding beside the hinds. He was 67 metres away, broadside and no possible way for us to get closer. I clipped the release aid on and waited for him to step his front leg forward to expose his vitals better. Ten minutes later he finally shifted his leg. Twang, my eyes locked onto the flight of the arrow, yes, yes, yes it’s going to connect. Bugger, he swung his head and shoulders out of the way and the arrow flew past his chest into the tall grass never to be seen again.
Still stags were going nuts all around us. We stalked towards the next closest stag about 100 metres away. I guessed we were about 30-40 metres away from where I last saw him, so I crawled out from under the bushy trees we were sneaking through. A hind barked about 25 metres away in the tall grass in front of me. All I could see were her ears. I had to look around the side a bushy tree to get a view of where the stag had been. After the bark I expected the stag to be gone. The hind was still there, watching me. On my knees I peered around the tree, yes the stag had ghosted away. But two young stags were standing in his place. That’ll do.
Range 32 metres.
Release on.
Lean out on my knees.
Twang, and again the stag jumps. But not fast enough. The arrow goes into his side almost up to the fletch’s.
Yes! Finally got one. The tall grass swallowed him up within a couple of yards, so I had no idea where he had run. There were deer crashing in all directions. And still there were stags roaring in the cover 50 metres away.
My friend and I were overwhelmed with the achievement of getting an arrow into a stag. He said ‘I have never experienced being so close to so many deer in all my years of hunting here, thank you, thank you, I will never forget this hunt’.
We walked back to the house and had a coffee. Then went to search for the stag. No blood! Too many footprints! We searched in circles with no luck.
Two days later my friend messaged me to say he had two tools his nose and a machete to look for my stag. He found it straight away, lying 60 metres away from where I shot him in the tall grass. We had walked right past him and didn’t see him.
Super stoked to have the head brought back to NZ by another friend who went over a few weeks after me.
