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Thread: When men were men

  1. #76
    Bos
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    Quote Originally Posted by time out View Post
    Real men - 1999 – Glaisnock River - John Muir of Feilding with the shaving brush and Les Battersby of Kaikoura/Picton - both John and Les were very involved with management of the Wapiti herd back then and made many trips to Fiordland.

    Attachment 181438
    Ive seen that pic a few times. Worked for and with Les for a while and spent many a night in a hut with him., Even had a few fly in trips with him in his later years before he passed away. Loved his sailing, his hunting, and his gin He was a genuine good bastard
    time out likes this.

  2. #77
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    Quote Originally Posted by time out View Post
    Real men - 1999 – Glaisnock River - John Muir of Feilding with the shaving brush and Les Battersby of Kaikoura/Picton - both John and Les were very involved with management of the Wapiti herd back then and made many trips to Fiordland.

    Attachment 181438
    John Muir used to give me absolute shit about being a meat hunter.
    nor-west and time out like this.

  3. #78
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    Quote Originally Posted by Micky Duck View Post
    well it seems these fellas are a bit shy....
    I will add short tale concerning a member on here....

    we were away on hunting trip way down south....
    the 3 of us had roared up 1 antlered stag,then spent afternoon looking around before splitting up and heading back to camp...my Swedish mate n I had drop on two big hinds and enjoyed watching them walk...no boyfriend...
    anyway we got back to camp and me old mate chipped me for not shooting one for camp meat...need a fawn he says...head down stream he says,go over slip and look across river.....so off I go,mighty .270 in hand...down river,across slip,look across river and BUGGAMESIDEWAYS there is hind and fawn just poking out of bush,200 ish yards away...nah I can do closer than that so put the stalk on,got to within 10 yards of hind as she below bank,she spotted me and scarpered across open ground,fawn followed before I dropped it on run.
    EVERY single time Ive hunted with this chap I learn something new...he does things without thinking that I have to ask why...and then penny drops... many years hunting it has become instinct for him..
    you young fells listen when an old grey beard speaks....
    you know who you are..
    thanks mate.
    im not old,a young 72

  4. #79
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    Quote Originally Posted by Bos View Post
    Ive seen that pic a few times. Worked for and with Les for a while and spent many a night in a hut with him., Even had a few fly in trips with him in his later years before he passed away. Loved his sailing, his hunting, and his gin He was a genuine good bastard
    One time we were going to go in to the Muzzle hut ( the one in the stream where the river forks ) Before we left, Les ( always a good story teller ) Started off with one about shooting up hill with his .303 But had his pipe in his mouth. Fired the shot and broke a tooth.

    He then goes on to say.
    " oh I've shot Chamois from the door of that hut, check out the bluffs on the true left if you get to the hut"

    We got there alright, its a bit hard to find. ( I have a photo of it in another old thread about huts ) We had stalked in looking for Chamois from the river bed ( you werent allowed to shoot deer on the Bluff station at that time..... live recovery was the thing then. )
    It must have been mid morning when we got there, and as you do we checked out the hut, dicked around for a while and fired up a gas stove and had a brew. Sitting outside blowing on our mugs, One of the guys says real quiet like.

    "dont look now but there's three Chamois staring down from where Les said they would be"
    After a bit more whispering we decide to do the old 1, 2 ,3 bang trick.

    We all got settled behind the log, 1,2,3,bang!

    Nup they all ran away! Maybe we should have all aimed at just one of them.

  5. #80
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    If you are keen on DVD's here's a good spot
    https://videosouth.com/2021/04/13/ne...-live-capture/
    kukuwai likes this.

  6. #81
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    Mate after a bomb up with the 303's. Skin hunting. In the Puketois.

    Bill's foresight was a filed blob solder.

    Last edited by Tahr; 18-10-2021 at 05:56 PM.
    Trout, Micky Duck, kukuwai and 2 others like this.

  7. #82
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    Found this. I think it was the last deer I ever sold. Ruahines out by the Pouranaki. Neck shot with a 22.250 I had. Fried the barrel in the end.

    nor-west, Trout, rugerman and 6 others like this.

  8. #83
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    Great singlet

    Sent from my SM-G950F using Tapatalk
    Tahr and caberslash like this.
    Its not what you get but what you give that makes a life !!

  9. #84
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    Quote Originally Posted by kukuwai View Post
    Great singlet

    Sent from my SM-G950F using Tapatalk
    100 percent NZ wool.
    tetawa, Micky Duck and kukuwai like this.

  10. #85
    Ned
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    Our neighbour is 97 now I think. Still very sharp. 30-40 years of hunting trips into Fiordland amongst it all. I love it when I bump into him and he's in a chatty mood and I get a story out of him. But the way he relates it is always matter of fact. No reminiscing about how things were. Makes me happy I can drop off some venison sometimes for him now.

    Sent from my LM-G710 using Tapatalk
    Tahr, NRT, tetawa and 6 others like this.

  11. #86
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    When men were men. Well..here's couple of hard case 1960 stories from the kids' perspective ...Even the little hunters were tough!

    Tale 1:

    Our farm backed onto huge bush area and in 1960s there wasn't much to do but hunt – all the time. Occasionally old man would gather up half a dozen local farm boys, put em all on the trailer, and head off for couple of days way out in the bush hunting. Travel for hours on rough logging tracks with the tractor – way out in the wop-wops to an old sawmill site called Opa. Had been milled in the 1930s-40s and the old bullring (clearing) still there, plus one old shack that we'd stay in. Great place.. Minus 4 star accomodation.

    On this trip we got lucky, ran into some sows on way out, farmboys jumping off trailerr in all directions, and we ended up with 3 little wild pigs. Little fellas – couple about a foot long and a bigger brown/black one about 3-4kg. Took them to the shack and kept them in a back 'room' - if you could call it that, with the doorway blocked off. We'd climb in and play toreadors, try to catch them, and the little brown boar would always go for you. Much fun..Then one of the older boys – like 13 or so - has a brainwave. Says he's heard if you hold wild pigs over smoke it tames them!!. Next thing big fire in fireplace with scrub and fern piled on, smoking the hut out, and boys all clamber up on roof with the stroppy brown pig. They hold him over the chimney that is belching smoke, he wriggles like hell for a bit, then he does get tame – goes all quiet – floppy even. Farmboys not strong on science. So everyone else then clambers down or leaps off the roof – leaving 7yr old me with no way to get down. Couldn't climb back down and 10 foot jump not appealing for a little fella. But .. nothing for it but to leap off – landed bad and next thing excruciating pain in right hand. Really bad.. Very really bad! But you can't cry or talk about pain with the older boys, and you can't tell the old man as he'd clip you for climbing on the roof. So – agonising pain for next day or so. Just had to tuck hand away and carry on. No doctors way out there in the bush. No medicines. Many hours on the tractor even to get back to farmhouse....When I got home still didn't tell mum and dad – might get into trouble. Pain went away over the following weeks/months.

    Fast forward 55 years now to about 2016. I'm having a health checkup and conversation with Doc goes something like this.. Doctor: “When did you do that?” Me: “Do what?” Doctor: 'Break that right wrist..” Me: “What?” Doctor: “ That wrist has been broken. Those bones in your hand should be flat, but yours stick up. Its had a bad break some time” Me: Dead silence. Flashback. Memories. Pig Smoke Roof Pain.... Then “Ahhhhhhh!! .. So that's .. what .. bloody .. happened...”

    1960 farmboys were tough little buggers..

    Tale 2: Got my own back on that stroppy wild pig...

    We took the little pigs home to the farm. Not uncommon for kids to arrive home after hunting with a shirtful of wriggling baby bunnies from burrow, or little pigs etc - and we'd raise them. This little brown boar always caused trouble. Dairy cow took a shine to him – and I'd come out in the morning to find he'd chewed on her teats, scratching them up and making them very sore to milk. So she'd kick like horse in the cowbail. Aaargh! Then when he was about 40lb he learned new party trick – he'd put his nose under the gates and pop them up off hooks – esp the smaller gates in the yards so he could walk through. One day dad does some drafting in the yards – seperating lambs from ewes etc – and pig goes for a stroll and pops off couple of gates. Old man has to go do all the drafting again. Comes back to house, sits on the porch, takes off his boots, gives pig a long look! I know that look.

    Didn't see pig for a bit. Then couple of days later its a real treat. Heaps of crunchy crackling and roast pork for sunday lunch. Old man and I sitting there chuckling away.. Crunch crunch. Porky's latest trick. His last trick. Life's pretty tough on the farm, but revenge can taste bloody good..
    Tahr, doinit, rugerman and 5 others like this.

  12. #87
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    If the Opa mill site is the one I think it is.
    I shot my first deer very close to it.

  13. #88
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    Opa - well well!! Wondered if anyone would know of it.

    Take the road from Whakamaru towards Turangi/Taupo, then turn right about 8ks up onto Arataki road. 3-4ks to our old farm. Another k on there used to be a sawmill there by the river back in the 50s-60s - Tutukau. Go across old logging bridge over Mangakino stream there and head left way off into hills - down a very steep forestry track known then as the zig-zag, and way back through the bush to Opa. From memory there was a river a few miles past Opa. Very few will know of that place - we hunted there often for many years. Probably all farmland now?
    Micky Duck likes this.

  14. #89
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    Yep that is the place.
    Tutukau Mill was still going into the 70s.
    Not quite in farmland.
    First deer no real skill.
    Wandered in there with a mate no real idea what we were doing.
    No consideration wind etc.
    This stag walked across in front of me so plumped myself down on my arse and shot it.
    It was a fairly big bugger and as we had seen photos of the great white hunter proudly watching the porters carrying little antelope on a stick
    we thought we would give it a go.
    What a prick of an idea, sore shoulders wobbled like buggery and to make it worse met some guys coming in so pretended it was brilliant.
    Never again.
    Was good hunting in there.
    Then they 1080ed it and the grass took off, tripping over old logs in the long grass where there used to be closely cropped bowling greens.
    Haven't really been out there since they milled all the douglas.
    The bridge is long gone.
    They destroyed it gradually.
    We used to ride our bikes across on the main log flat surfaces after the deck had been removed.
    Used use the ford but access limited by owners of old mill site.
    Was all good fun.

  15. #90
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    Quote Originally Posted by mudgripz View Post
    Opa - well well!! Wondered if anyone would know of it.

    Take the road from Whakamaru towards Turangi/Taupo, then turn right about 8ks up onto Arataki road. 3-4ks to our old farm. Another k on there used to be a sawmill there by the river back in the 50s-60s - Tutukau. Go across old logging bridge over Mangakino stream there and head left way off into hills - down a very steep forestry track known then as the zig-zag, and way back through the bush to Opa. From memory there was a river a few miles past Opa. Very few will know of that place - we hunted there often for many years. Probably all farmland now?
    I used to haunt that area during the early '70s we called the Bullring. Hauled a lot of deer out of there up the steep part of the track in, where only those with a winch would venture down. Winches were rare back then. I caught my first deer in there 20th Jan. 1973. Shot the hind and put my dog after the fawn which came back down the gut out of the bush and I jumped in front of it. It knocked it's self out on my rifle leaving me with a trigger guard scar under my knee cap I still have today. I had about a 2k carry back to the Landrover left him untied as I had to retrieve mum for the chiller.
    He, like all pet deer turned into a right asshole, but that was the start of my deer farming career.

    Something I miss from those old meat hunting days is that flying feeling you get after you off load a heavy deer after a long carry.
    Who remembers the $1 a pound months?

 

 

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