Moutoa - Just Lucky

A couple of year ago a mate twisted my arm to try for Sambar ballot block. I didn't fancy my chances but bingo, I drew Moutoa 1st time up. Only one day, a few hours to hunt but what great fun, sneaking around in those flax tunnels, spooking or getting spooked by these magnificent deer. After muffing the one chance I had at a good stag, I left disappointed but thrilled at the experience.

I couldn't believe my luck when I scored a private block through a friend this year. Arriving at the block and seeing acres of pine trees with thick prunings underneath I didn't feel over confident of finding a good stag that had been seen in the area. The proverbial needle in a hay stack. However less than an hour later something caught my eye about 150m up on a hill side. Up went the scope and yes an antler and a large ear, peeking around a tree. Sit down for a steady shot, gone, wait, movement, front left shoulder, fire and down he goes. Quickly reload and pick my way through the thinnings. Ten meters from it and there was a set of antlers thrashing, a finishing shot through the neck. Man are these deer big, and antlers I couldn't get my hands around the base of. Better that I could have hoped for.

After years of sneaking around after Sika, to get a trophy like this is awesome. Thanks to the Sambar Foundation.

Barry M.

Moutoa

I’d been in the Moutoa swamp for about 2 hrs in which time 2 things became very clear to me:-
1) I‘d solved the mystery of why sign was scarce at other blocks and why hunters had talked about Sambar pooping in plastic bags and walking above ground. They all come back to crap at Moutoa; I’d never seen so much sign
2) I was a very lucky hunter indeed to draw this block.

This pre trip reconnoitre was a valuable exercise in itself. It’s always time well spent checking out the country and how to get there as the next time would be in the pre dawn dark. Undoubtedly the best preparation was talking to Warwick from the SDMF as you can’t beat learning from an expert and people who are willing and able to share sound advice are rare.

But not even Warwick’s advice could prepare me for the Moutoa flax experience. Less than 1/2 of the 40 ha block is in Harakeke flax. The balance is coarse grass clearings and the ground itself is for the most part dry, the drain running through the middle has served it’s purpose. Close to or in the flax is where the animals were but there was abundant sign everywhere. You hunt the whole place here, no time wasted in looking for fresh sign. The flaxed ground in particular is extensively tracked. The deer rarely leave this DOC reserve so its about as close to hunting inside a fence as you’ll get. The ground is flat, cows are milked and grazed just over the fence which all adds to a unique hunting experience. But those deer…

Express trains that explode through the flax in a blur of motion and noise. It’s exciting. I have never been so close to so many animals. You push, burrow and sneak through the flax and animals honk/bark at you or just charge away. Although you get close you don’t often see them and just glimpse a brown movement and flax tops swaying. I spotted a hind as I was crossing the drain and she swiveled her head around at my movement. I froze and after about 2 minutes she looked away which gave me the chance to try and approach, which I duly muffed.

Bumping them is one thing and shooting one is another. I was keen to take an animal for the venison but this was a singular opportunity to take a trophy Sambar as there were stags there including one big fella. My game plan therefore was to try for a stag, the big one of course, and take anything if I ran out of time. After 2 hrs of great excitement I was starting to think I’d being doing well to shoot anything as those deer were all onto me. The weather was fine and despite best efforts I was way too noisy in the flax. I’d zig zagged through one area of flax and decided to check out the ground close to the last stand of cabbage trees in the block. I was bashing noisily through thick flax when suddenly I was eye balling a stag at 5 metres. He fled in a circuitous route and halted about twenty metres away. I shot him in the shoulder and he crashed away to reappear a further twenty metres out. I shot again as he disappeared into the flax. I set off after him and wondered how you could track in this place where all the sign is fresh. I was fortunate to find him quickly as he hadn’t got far.

I squatted down to look at him. A huge bodied deer with a distinctive long black tail. His rumen was full of flax which must be good tucker to grow them that big. His 6 points were all there although only just. But I had taken my chance and had my venison as well. I was able to drive round to within 50 metres of my load which was a bonus.

The odds are stacked against my returning with a rifle but Moutoa is a great place to visit to see wild deer and if you’re really quick maybe even get a photo of one.

David R

Moutoa Again

Finally drew a block after years of trying, "Moutoa Swamp Block". Drove down from Hamilton into the great unknown.

A walk along the stop bank the day before. Very unusual to be hunting on a block with no trees. On the block at daylight to see a stag and hind returning from grass lands after feeding. Too far away for a shot. While trying to get upwind of these two animals I spooked another hind. Found it hard to go quiet in the high flax. Finally managed to shoot a hind at 6 foot. I found the whole experience very worth while and would like to congratulate and thank the organisers.

Bruce A.

Rangitikei River Hunting

Every year we field comments and reports about problems with hunters on the Rangitikei river bed. This is potentially a very dangerous place to hunt so it attracts special conditions. To help those wishing to hunt in this area I will outline the position.

The consents to hunt in this area are controlled by horizon’s m.w. out of their Marton office. They will issue consent to hunt on the river only where a person has an access consent from the land owner adjacent to the river area to be hunted. This means that to hunt in this area you need the access consent of the land owner bordering on the river. With this consent you then approach horizon’s m.w. for their consent to hunt the river area directly adjacent to the land owners boundary. You may only hunt this area and NOT outside it. There are NO permits to hunt the full length of the river as one party tried to tell another last year.

The Foundation still issues the actual hunting licence. However NO licence will be issued for this area unless we see both the access consent from the land owner and horizon’s m.w. Due to past problems there will be increased policing of this area and permits will be checked. Those without the proper consents may will find their Sambar hunting licence revoked.

Tangi - The Reward

For almost too many years now, my son and I have been entering the Sambar Deer Ballots, winning a few blocks but not claiming a Sambar. One or two occasions torrential rain has ruined our chances but we have bounced back each year to try again.

An exciting phone call from Wayne in July '99, advising me that he had a block in Tangi and would I like to go with him, was enough to start the adrenaline flow. Near the end of this pheasant season Wayne, Lyn and I hunted Wayne's block for quail and pheasants noting all the deer sign and likely places for later. We were impressed with the sign we saw and in fact put up three deer.

Finally Wayne's weekend arrived {the 5th of the season} and preparations were completed. A great casserole from Lyn {who unfortunately had to work} bacon and eggs for breakfast, cold meat sandwiches, three thermoses of hot water, a large bottle of water and the little gas cooker made up our full contingent. We were up at 4am and left Craigieburn in Otaki Gorge around 5am, arriving at Tangi at 6am. A check of the weather and wind and finally our strategy was worked out whilst boots and day bags were donned. With the breeze mainly from the east we slowly worked our way up the western side of the block so as to minimise the fouling of good ground. Tension was high and we both had the jumps, with Wayne on a couple of occasions, bringing up the .270 on birds as if it were a 12 gauge, only to stop when his vision was obscured by the scope. Despite a lack of early sign we were constantly checking out possibilities, and kept on edge with sightings of quail, a pheasant, swans, turkeys, hares and parries. Being a relatively small block we soon appeared to reach the bottom end and as the wind had shifted round more to the north the prospect of good hunting into the wind was almost assured.

We worked our way up to a spot we sussed out weeks ago and settled down for our first cuppa. Wayne unloaded the .270 and I said to keep it ready and handy as you know what happens when we stop for smoko. {We have missed several pheasants and ducks in the past at smoko.} Reloaded, the .270 was rested next to me and after the call of nature, smoko began. Suddenly Wayne exclaimed " @#%!&* a deer just went across the roadway - hell there's another." By this time I had handed him the Sako. Then, Holy Hell, there's a stag looking at us. Wayne made to lay down for a shot but his movement {akin to an octopus learning to swim} set the stag off. Just as he was getting back on his seat, another hind ran across the road. Feeling somewhat despondent at having seen a stag and three hinds without getting a shot we did not give up hope and Wayne now looked over the area through the scope. He swung back to the roadway to find yet another Sambar looking at him. 9.10am. BANG, and a hind leaps across the roadway. "Did you miss it?" "NO!" Then a flash in the trees and I heard it fall and thrash about. We agreed to give it time before going forward, so while a few calls were made on the cellphone to say we had fired a shot at least, we went about searching for the cups and half eaten sammies that had unceremoniously been dispatched with the events just past. 9.20am and we go forward 90 metres to the spot were the hind stood to find the telltale blood. The excitement rose as we followed the ever increasing blood trail. I turned and gave Wayne a bear hug as soon as I saw her down and Wayne floated up to her for photos and more happy moments. More phone calls to confirm the kill back home and to summon AgriQuality. I went out to the road and met Nick from AgriQuality and he and his Dad, who had come for the ride, followed me back to Wayne. The four of us were able to drag the hind out to the roadway beside the vehicles where Nick did his bit which included gutting our kill.

Wayne's bullet had entered just to the left of the brisket, traveled through the lungs, split the heart in two then went through the liver. With three vital organs hit, the hind ran 60 metres before dropping. Absolutely amazing, but quite common. Nick declared the hind all clear, washed up, had a cuppa and trundled off. Wayne and I reorganised the back of the KIA, laid out the tarp then looked at each other. How the hell would we get her in? Eventually we cut her in two, and still struggled to load her up. Wow, what a lot of mince. By noon we were on the main road and after dropping the head off to Spud Tatham, for aging, we collected our gear from Craigieburn and headed home. 4pm saw us back in Tawa unloaded and the Sambar hanging in the garage with two bird dogs very excited indeed, and Wayne and I wanting to tell the world how great we felt.

Our thanks to the foundation, the forestry companies, Landcorp and Nick of AgriQuality, who we will phone up to gut and clean our game in future. The only disappointment was to hear that not everyone contacted the Landcorp manager. Not all kills were reported and some did not return details. Offenders known to the Foundation should be excluded from all future ballots as it is these types who put our opportunities at risk.

Written by David Richardson. {Thanks Dad!}