Forest Dwellers - Part I
By Cam Greig
The deep jungle has always fascinated those who prefer blinding sunlight. Strange creatures seem to inhabit its deep recesses, only grudgingly to be coaxed, or more often dragged into the dimpled light for partial observation. The elephants that fled into the gloomy darkness slowly developed into a smaller race, along with the buffalo and a wide variety of other mammals. On the other hand insects seem to have found the environment invigorating and grow to goliath proportions. Moths are as big as dinner plates and six inch grasshoppers crop the leaves on the forest floor.
Living in among them are the human inhabitants of the forest, which are sometimes referred to as pygmies. In fact this term is considered derogatory to these forest nymphs and they prefer to be called by their tribal names. In Congo they are known as the Bayaka. In Cameroun they are referred to as the Aka.
My association with the forest dwellers goes back over 50 years. I was born in their country, and learned their language early on. I have watched 16mm film of myself when I was only about four years old dancing with the Aka of Southern Cameroun. My father was a medical doctor and would occasionally make a trip into the jungle to set up a pharmacy. I remember having to go for hours over mud encrusted log bridges, marching in the high humidity to reach their villages. We always brought a traditional present of salt and for this the villagers were grateful. They inevitably staged a dance in our honour. This is the way the forest dwellers celebrate: they dance. Sometimes complicated, sometimes simple, but always a dance. With no electronic gadgets they have learned to enjoy life by finding the rhythms of nature in drums and rattles. They have even learned how to “beat” the water in a remarkable manner that simulates a drum beat.
I have had the privilege as an adult to spend months on end with them in their jungle haunts. I have visited the Bayaka pygmies of Congo, a much more primitive group, on a number of occasions. Here the villages are still loosely connected to the Bantu villages. Even in the new millennium the women still wear only a grass skirt and the men hunt with nets woven from the jungle and poison tipped arrows shot from a crossbow. Reaching this village of pure Bayaka was a feat in itself. We travelled by air to a very remote airstrip in the northern part of Congo. From here we hired a motorized canoe that ran for a full day to get us up the Ubangi River and deep into the jungle. We transferred to some rutted logging roads and then back to a large dugout canoe. This time the propulsion was by paddles as we penetrated ever deeper into the dapple lighted jungle. When the canoe ran out of water we had to carry all of our gear for over an hour to finally reach the village. I was not so glad to find that the mud encrusted tippy logs from my childhood were still in vogue. A light rain added to the slippery texture of the bark as we slipped and scampered to high ground. Here the Bayaka had made a semi-permanent camp. This group of Bayaka stayed a long way from the Bantu village so that they could be totally independent.
africa's professional journal for serious hunters since 1994
Once, not long ago, I was young, and keen, and full of the vinegar and juice of life. I was strong and the whole world was open before me. Now, suddenly, I am “middle aged”. I am the age of people who, not long ago, I branded contemptuously as “old farts”.
Most hunters who have contemplated or completed a hunting Safari in one of the African countries have encountered a person calling themselves a “Booking Agent” or “Safari Consultant”. Many have utilized the services of such a person, while others have chosen not to. In both cases, clients have experienced good and bad outcomes. So it is worthwhile to explore the role of these intermediaries (who will be referred to as “agents” for ease and brevity), and to provide some tips and advise in this regard.
The term “agent” is sometimes confused with the term “outfitter” or “operator”. So let's start with some basic definitions. An “outfitter” in the context of the sport hunting industry is a person or company who owns the rights to hunt in a specific area or areas (another use of this term refers to a retailer who sells firearms, equipment and clothing, but this usage is dated). The outfitter may also be a PH or he may employ or contract with PH's to guide clients. The outfitter is like the general contractor on a building site. He is the counterparty to the hunting contract, if such a document exists. As such, he is obligated to deliver the hunt according to the terms of the agreement.
Sometimes, individuals play multiple roles. For example, a South African outfitter or PH who arranges a buffalo hunt for his client in Zimbabwe will usually receive a commission from the Zimbabwean outfitter that actually provides the hunt, even though the PH may accompany the client and behave like a PH for the duration of the hunt.
Agents are generally located in the country where the hunts are marketed, normally the home base of the client. I say generally because it is becoming more common for European hunters to book across borders, even using American agents in some cases. But traditionally, the agent speaks the same language, is located in the same or near time zone, and is subject to the same legal jurisdiction as the client - another important set of distinctions.
The agent's role is to market hunts on behalf of the operators they represent, and receives a commission from the operator for each hunt arranged. This is very similar to the role of a realtor in a residential home purchase transaction. The agent has a fiduciary duty to the operator, not to the client. In some cases, agents have a legal agreement with the operator defining their mutual obligations. It is highly unusual for an agent to enter into a legal agreement with a client. The hunting contract, if any, is invariably between the client and the operator. However, the agent by necessity makes representations to the client regarding the hunt, pricing, and even travel arrangements, which can lead the client to believe that the agent is the outfitter.
In other cases, the agent may act as if they represent the client, assisting him/her in selecting a hunt from a smorgasbord of operators (this type of agent prefers to be called a “consultant”). However, unless the client pays the agent a retainer or fee, and has some form of explicit agreement with the agent, the agent remains beholden primarily to the operator(s) they represent.
I am fortunate enough to have had the chance to visit our country’s leading wildlife conservancy once again, a wealth of fauna and flora protected and managed by a dedicated team of experienced conservationists. This area is one of the last strongholds of many of our endangered species, and the efforts of those involved in their safekeeping should be applauded. A pleasant evening passed at the fireside with some of the caretakers of this haven is always a memorable occasion, often recalled more accurately the following morning, accompanied by intense cranial distress, and severe nausea. I sometimes wonder if these friends of mine have an unconscious desire to maim me - they pour refreshments with a misplaced sense of generosity as though they had suffered wrist injuries as young men and have never recovered fully.
One of these friends, Duppie is built of generous dimensions; he is not really aerodynamically proportioned and yet in video footage I have seen him in, in Courtney boots he pirouettes more gracefully than any accomplished dancer. Determined toe pointing, extended strides, all in a move to avoid an eland bull falling on him. This subtle yet graceful choreography would not have been out of place on the Bolshoi Theatre stage, and artistes of repute would be in awe of his grace and beauty. His neighbour, Duke, is another of the dedicated custodians of this conservancy and is currently cultivating a beard that would sufficiently house a colony of ground hornbills. I am reliably informed that he uses a pair of side cutters to trim this tangled growth, and they say that when he does eventually shave, the veterinary control unit will need to monitor the species that emerge.
Duppie’s apprentice Adriaan is also a long-time friend and his father once told me with a deep sense of paternal pride that, when he was born, he had the genetics that would have made a Brahman bull envious, with very large ears and... With age he has finally grown into his ears but subtle enquiries to his wife as whether he is now proportionately correct produce nothing but an intense case of blushing.
Adriaan is now being tutored by Duppie, as per the regulations controlling a professional hunter’s apprenticeship. With this sort of experience, and assistance from the rest of the community within the conservancy, I see a vast wealth of knowledge passed on that will be greatly beneficial - not only to any aspiring apprentices, but to the wildlife industry in general.
Please allow me to now recount a humorous experience back in the days before this apprenticeship commenced.
My son, Nick, and I had been invited down to the conservancy for a few days, and we relish every opportunity to enjoy the outdoors, to revel in the warm sunshine, and to enjoy the treasures that our country offers, so the invitation was readily accepted. Adriaan had been tasked with the duty of procuring some ration meat for the staff, so we walked quietly along the fringes of some dense mopane looking for some wildebeest.
With the honesty of youth, Adriaan and my son handed me the shooting sticks saying “Pops, you’re an old bullet and you don’t shoot too good, this is what you carry”. Who am I to argue? I once shot myself in the toe with an air rifle, I am probably the only person to have ever run away from a charging monitor lizard, and even a Marabou stork has stronger legs and a better physique than me, so I grudgingly accepted, silently planning revenge.
Adriaan carried his .416 nonchalantly over his shoulder like a seasoned veteran, Nick carefully held his .375 to avoid any possibility of this beautiful Sako being scratched, and we left the Land Cruiser, easing carefully into the fresh foliage. The new leaves had created a dense wall of cover, the cicadas trilling call an almost intrusive cacophony of sound that overpowered the emerald spotted doves demure and musical song. Somewhere, far off in the woodlands the booming growl of a ground hornbill rolled across the land. This multitude of birdlife filled the air with avian song, and a herd of graceful impala filtered out of the woodland into an open area, their sleek coats rippling with good health as they gently browsed on the new buds.
Almost magically, the lumbering bodies of a rather large herd of buffalo materialized from a dense grove of acacia, and they cautiously moved forward to congregate in the open - an idyllic scene of bovine contentment. I consider these animals to be one of my favorite species; they are fascinating and their gregarious behaviour ensures that one always has several animals to watch. We took the opportunity to quietly sit in the shade so we could watch them at leisure and enjoy the antics of some of the calves cavorting on the fringes of the herd. These are the magical moments of any hunter’s life, a chance to savour being in the presence of our wildlife. We discussed their behaviour patterns, the intense thrill of hunting them, and slowly a plan of revenge began to take shape.
I told these two young nimrods of the buffalo’s single-minded desire to wreak havoc on any transgressors. I described its ability to instantaneously explode into a blur of action, so that the focus of its attentions could not possibly escape, and as the herd grazed towards us, the first furtive, sidelong glances, searching for accessible trees and avenues of escape, became noticeable. As the herd approached, I cautioned these aspiring bushmen to be on their A game - I was after all unarmed and they would have to control the situation should the need arise. I suggested that we move, as we were now far too close, so we walked away at an angle but the perimeter of the herd was still thrillingly close so that every grunt and bellow seemed to carry a message filled with malice.
An aged bull, the victor of many battles, stood his ground, watching us belligerently, he carried an impressive collection of battle scars and reminded me of Schalk Burger when someone tries to take his ball away! I pointed him out to Nick and Adrian, “Look at that old guy, his attitude could change in a second and there’s not even a tree to run to”. Sweaty hands gripped rifles harder and as we walked away, I stole a glance over my shoulder and said “Charges are so difficult to stop, and inevitably wild shots mean a savage goring and a whole lot of sadness for the recipient”. By now the steps were less casual, they had subtly grown longer, so I made a show of another backward glance and said “He looks really mean and angry, he’s really pissed at someone”. After another step, I looked back again and then, with no warning, suddenly sprinted ahead, a truly athletic start, with arms and legs pumping, in an effort to gain distance from the bull, (who was actually calmly chewing cud in the shade).
I imagined that, with no warning, I must have had several metres head start on Adriaan and Nick, when they both flew past me on a blur of legs, wild eyed and accelerating all the time. The pace was impressive, had they attended the Jamaican Olympic trials both Blake and Bolt would have tearfully resigned immediately, in total humiliation. Adriaan and Nick threw up a vortex of leaves and dust, as this double cyclone washed past me. Some distance later, I stopped running, as my laughter would not allow breath to my lungs. I struggled to breathe and had to hang on my shooting sticks for support, as I bellowed with mirth. Adriaan and Nick took a while to slow, each reluctant to be at the rear, let alone stop, and there was a steady trickle of blood from the back of Adriaan’s head. Their faces were white, and the adrenaline in their bodies made their feet move like agitated racehorses at the start of a race. It seemed as though I was the only one to see humour in the moment. The old bull stared at us, slightly bemused at our sudden departure, I still needed the assistance of the shooting sticks to remain upright, and both Adriaan and Nick gave an impressive oral demonstration on piratical phrase that would not have been out of place on the high seas. They used words that they certainly never learned from their mothers, and were mostly new to me, sounding a lot like a kitten with a stutter that has been approached by a large and hungry dog.
Hunters' Resource
africa's professional journal for serious hunters since 1994
africa's professional journal for serious hunters since 1994
africa's professional journal for serious hunters since 1994
africa's professional journal for serious hunters since 1994
Every morning the old man would take a small log with burning embers from the fire and walk along with it in his hands. Only the elders could be trusted to carry the fire and make sure it did not go out. Since he was the only elder he carried it himself.
Bayaka hunters.
The plight of today's Bayaka was brought home to me when I had to pay the Bantu “owner” of the paddlers. The owner, a very “hip” Bantu, pocketed all the money. This is typical of the exploitation of the Bayaka. He came along for the ride, but did none of the work.
An example of Bayaka face painting.
A red river hog.
In response to a 20 kilogram sack of the still traditional salt I was welcomed into the village. The afternoon of our arrival we were treated to a “Dance of the Forest Spirit”. I felt much honoured to have them perform this dance for us in the daylight. This was done at my request, as I wished to take pictures. I had seen the dance a number of times, but always after dark when photographing it was impossible. I was able to shoot video and still photos as the spirit emerged and danced with the villagers, a memory I will always cherish.
Alas, even with the proper introduction I was sitting in a pickle. I was in a Bayaka village hundreds of miles from nowhere with a huge pile of goods, some camping gear and a rifle, but no way to head off on my trip. Not a single Bayaka villager seemed to be willing to go with me, and the Bayaka society is one where each individual makes his own decisions. Once away from the Bantu they did not want to be told what to do and felt very suspicious that my proposal to actually pay them to go hunting would entail a lot of work and not much reward. To them it seemed better to just sit this one out at home rather than risk being exploited. Again.
I felt very handicapped. In Cameroun where I am used to negotiating, I speak the tribal language of the Aka, but here in Congo they did not even speak Lingala or French, and so I had to resort to the use of interpreters to help me out. Conferring with the village elders I managed to convince the oldest Bayaka to come with me. This was extremely fortuitous, as he had a calming influence. He also acted as my emissary and cobbled together a crew of 13 porters to go with me on this trip.
Daily we penetrated further and further into the back yard of the Bayaka. Every evening we would sit around the campfire and share a meal. Dark comes at 6:00 every day on the equator, so there is always a lot of time to talk. Storytelling went from Bayaka to Lingala to French to English, as I did the final translating for my thirteen year old son who was on the trip with me.
The most amazing story was that of the origin of the Bantu-Bayaka relationship. Here is the story as it was explained to me by this old and gracious gentleman:
Our people lived in the jungle for many years. We hunted and fished and had a free life. We needed nothing, as everything was in abundance all around us. One day the Bantu people came into our world. They were warriors and very aggressive. They hunted all of the animals, but they also the hunted and ate the Bayaka. They ate us like monkeys. This went on for a long time and the elders of the Bayaka held a conference to decide what to do. They decided that we must make the Bantu understand we are also human and not animals. It was decided the means to do this was to get two volunteers to give themselves up to the Bantu. This was done and the Bantu were able to understand that the Bayaka were not animals, but people like themselves. None the less they enslaved the Bayaka and made us work in their gardens. Although this was not good, it was better than being hunted and eaten for food.
Every morning the old man would take a small log with burning embers from the fire and walk along with it in his hands. He explained that he was doing this in case we ran out of matches, as fire was so important. Only the elders could be trusted to carry the fire and make sure it did not go out. Since he was the only elder he carried it himself.
Every evening the young men would clear him a place by his own fire and although I had brought sleeping covers for each person he stripped naked and slept in that manner by the fire. Like most of his tribe he had a very hard time rising in the morning, as they hate getting wet with the dew. The only way to get him or the hunters to go out early with me was to simply start out on my own. Once they saw I had left the camp and knew I would not be returning they would hurry after me and guide me on. Short of this we could not get out of camp before the sun had already been up for several hours.
A Bayaka family.
The happiest man in the world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cam Greig was born in Cameroon, and grew up hunting with the locals and learned to speak both French and Bulu. His high school and collage years were spent in the United States, but he has returned to Cameroon two to three times a year since 1989 to go hunting, both there and in the surrounding (french speaking) countries. He keeps a standing “safari” complement of equipment including dug out canoes in Cameroon, the C.A.R. and Congo. His emphasis is on the adventure of the trip and less so on the actual hunt, and he has hunted many areas that have been abandoned or neglected since the end of Colonial rule forty years ago.
By I J Larivers
The Death of Professional Hunter Ian Gibson
I’d met Ian Gibson - Gibbo to his friends - shortly after he’d left the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Management as a senior ranger. It was a name and a face from the past, though Zimbabwe being the microcosm it is these days you’d think folks with similar interests would bump into one another at least fairly frequently.
Ian became a professional hunter in 1987, Professional Hunter’s licence number 120, and, many years later in 2008, joined Chifuti Safaris - Chewore North in the Lower Zambezi valley was his stomping grounds.
On the morning of 15 April, Ian had left camp with his trackers, a game scout and an American client who was no stranger to African safaris. They spent some five hours on the trail of a bull elephant, but hadn’t been able to close with it to get a look at the ivory. Ian’s client was in need of a break by then, and Ian left him to rest in the company of the game scout, while sending the driver back for the Land Cruiser.
Gibbo then went ahead with his tracker to see if they could close with the elephant and get a look at the trophy size and quality. A short while later, the client and the scout heard what they described as a muffled shot.
From the account of Ian’s tracker, they got very close to the bull before they were able to see that it only had one tusk, and was not what they were looking for. But - what made all the difference in this tragic instance - was that this bull was in musth (see sidebar), and as soon as he caught their scent he turned and charged. When I spoke with Chifuti Safaris, to get an accurate account of events I was told that the bull was very close - some ten to fifteen metres. As Gibbo and his tracker turned to exfil, the bull charged. This cleared up one question I’d harboured up to that point. Ian Gibson was one of the most competent bushmen and consummate professionals in the hunting industry, and all the initial accounts said that he’d seen the bull fifty to a hundred metres away. Had it charged from that distance, Ian would have had a lot of options open to him, and would have been able to assess - as closely as one can - how serious the charge was. From even fifteen metres most if not all of those options would have evaporated into thin air.
Other PHs close by responded to the scene, reminiscent of the tragedy that had befallen another Chifuti PH, Owain Lewis who was fatally charged by a buffalo bull in 2012, and the client was safely evacuated.
There was blood spoor, so the elephant had been hit, and the following morning a party set out on the tracks of the bull - which they followed up for some thirty to thirty five kilometres - but finally lost due to a rainstorm.
When compiling this story, I called to mind the death at the hands of a herd of cow elephant by PH Gerry Von Memerty - while actually hunting buffalo, near Nyamomba, as recounted by the iconic Ian Nyschens in his classic The Months of the Sun. The above is what we know. There will always be questions, especially from the hunters and trackers who go in for the follow-up. But what is certain is that the industry has lost an immeasurably experienced professional hunter whose skill was matched only by his love for the bush and its wildlife - the four hundred plus people who attended his funeral outside of Marondera are testament to that.
But sadly, in the 21st century, there is another aspect to a story like this - the Internet. Because “information” is so rapidly accessible and transmittable, even from the African bush, there is just that much more room for misinformation to creep in. An article in one scholarly tabloid stated that “a celebrated Texas-born (?) hunter was crushed to death by a baby (!) elephant in Zimbabwe as he tried to measure (WTF?) its ivory tusks for an American client.” Even by yellow journalism standards, it’s clear that this publication doesn’t employ an editor and has never heard the term “due diligence”, which is something that writers and editors should exercise before bursting into print. It further informed its curious readers that “despite only having one leg, Gibson was described by fans as 'fit and strong'”. (The client did indeed have a prosthetic leg.) The thought of a one-legged guy in a ten gallon Stetson and cowboy boot chasing a baby elephant through the bush clutching a tape measure would truly be funny if such unnecessary stupidity did not malign the memory of a good man, not to mention tarnish the image of an entire industry in they eyes of a readership, many of whom know no better.
But even worse than this manner of almost criminally unprofessional reporting is the modern-day phenomenon of the Internet troll. We all know them - folks who have firebrand opinions on subjects universal, but only have the courage to express themselves safely within the anonymity afforded by the ‘Net. Because they lack the social maturity to discuss topics logically, not emotively, most of their diatribe is hurtful, scathing, and on a very personal level. Untold numbers of “conservationists” and “animal rightists” took Ian Gibson’s death as an opportunity not to discuss the perceived merits or demerits of sport hunting sanely, but to launch into the unwholesome and malicious slander of a man who was in deed and custom a better conservationist than any of them could ever hope to be, and whose friends and family had to bear on top of everything else.
Rest in peace, Gibbo - unlike most folks, you lived 55 years, mostly spent in the bush, doing what you loved doing. My most sincere condolences go out to Ian’s family and close friends.
MUSTH
Musth is a recurrent condition in male elephants which is, characterized by highly aggressive behaviour and accompanied by a large rise in reproductive hormones. In a bull elephant that is in musth, the levels of testosterone can be fifty to sixty times higher than when the animal is not in musth. Scientific study of elephants in musth is difficult, because they can become highly aggressive at that time.
Because the female elephant's oestrus cycle is not seasonally-linked, and musth is most commonly associated with the winter months, there is not believed to be a direct connection between musth and rut. Moreover, elephant bulls in musth are known to attack even female elephant in oestrus - so the most likely explanation is that musth is linked to the hierarchy of male dominance.
Bulls in musth can often be recognized by the secretion of temporin from their temporal glands on either side of the head - temporin is a viscous gel-like substance which contains proteinaceous material, fats, and other substances such as methylphenols. Because the temporal glands swell during this period, the pressure on the animals’ eyes is comparable to a serious toothache.
When an elephant is in musth, it is discomfited in the extreme and at the same time its urge to mate can go into overdrive. The ultimate bad-hair day is not the most opportune time to encroach upon the territory of an animal that can weigh seven tonnes!
Booking Agents: Friend or Foe?
By Russ Gould
Here, Russ Gould shares some words of common sense wisdom regarding the pros and cons of
booking your hunt through that ubiquitous intermediary, the agent.
Then there are important questions about hunting style, physical condition, time and money and so on. These details have to be ironed out early on in the planning stages.
Why then would a client bother with an agent, who after all is an intermediary working for the outfitter? Particularly in today's internet era, it is increasingly easy to communicate directly with the operator by email and to make the booking directly.
This model works well for many clients, who shop on the internet and then either book long distance, or consummate the arrangement at one of the shows in their home country. These clients believe they are getting the “straight scoop”, and “cutting out the middleman”, thereby saving money on their hunt. And some clients do save money this way, particularly where the price is a special “negotiated” price for a late season hunt. However, in the vast majority of cases, there is no savings as the outfitter must recover his own marketing costs and has little or no incentive to come off his price list for a client booking a single hunt. The foundation of any agent/outfitter relationship is that both parties work off the same price list.
And in many cases, the “straight scoop” turns out to be nothing more than sales talk on the part of the outfitter. In the worst cases, the client sends off his deposit in good faith and subsequently finds out that he has been taken to a minor or major degree. He then faces the reality of trying to recover money or some other consideration from a person or company located in a foreign country. Even if he has a well-written hunting contract, it's rarely worth the time and hassle to try to obtain financial compensation for what he perceives to be a breach of contract. And in many cases, hunting contracts are rather vague on deliverables and heavy on contingencies and protections for the operator.
A good agent who is in the business for the long haul has a huge incentive to provide a reliable and honest service to his clients. He is mindful of the power of referrals, and of course most clients return to Africa time and again, providing the agent with repeat business. The agent will have researched the companies he represents, and in most cases he will be an experienced hunter who knows the hunt country in general and the specific areas he markets through personal experience. He will have more than one area or hunt in his portfolio, and will be able to point a client in the right direction, having established the hunt objectives.
Establishing realistic objectives is the first of four ways in which agents provide value to clients. Guiding the client to the right country/area/operator is the second. Filling in the multitude of details is the third. Handling the money is the fourth.
Establishing objectives. Many first-time clients draw up a list of species that they wish to hunt and then try to find the cheapest quote. And some have an unrealistic idea of what $10,000 will buy. This can be a very frustrating exercise as Africa is not a hypermarket, where one can find a 55” Kudu in on aisle, a Sitatunga in another, and a Sable in a third. If there are two or more hunters in the group, this becomes even more complicated. Jim may want a Sable and a Leopard, while Bob has his mind set on an Eland, a Kudu and a Nyala. A good agent can save these two gents a lot of time and frustration.
In addition, one can pay a large price premium for a species in an area where the species is uncommon (or sadly relocated a few days prior to the hunt). An Oryx in the Eastern Cape is going to cost a lot more than the same animal in Namibia. Conversely, Impala and Warthog are expensive in Namibia but rather cheap in Zululand. Many hunters try to mix dangerous game and plains game hunting. From a cost perspective, it's usually better to take one's plains game at a $350 daily rate, spending only the time necessary to complete your DG wish list at $1200 or more per day.
Furthermore, the chances of getting a really good trophy vary greatly from area to area due to genetics and diet. Most outfitters provide a long list of species available but fail to point out that some of them are very seldom encountered in the hunt area. The agent should be able to clarify which species are common and which are not. Then there are important questions about hunting style, physical condition, time and money and so on. It's important to spend some time sorting out which species are most important, what the household budget will withstand (not forgetting taxidermy!), whether the hunt is about horns or memories, what side trips a spouse may find interesting, and so on. The agent will help the client to develop a realistic and feasible set of objectives before making specific recommendations for a hunt.
Selecting a hunt. Once a budget and set of priorities are established, a good agent will iterate between areas and species, help the client to make tradeoffs and compromises, and eventually settle on a hunt that will provide a high probability of connecting with a short list of quality trophies at a price that fits the client's budget, even if some species have to be crossed off the list.
Often this discussion leads to a multi-year hunt plan, with the hunter taking some of his species the first year and then returning a year or two later to collect the remainder. For example, the first hunt may concentrate on the common Kalahari species in Namibia, with the Sable and Buffalo hunt taking place in Zimbabwe on a subsequent trip. Or it may be necessary to arrange a back-to-back hunt to achieve the hunt objectives. If an agent does not have the “right” hunt in his portfolio, he can usually develop a solution by working his contacts and doing some research.
Filling in the details. Once the destination country, area and operator are decided, the agent will recommend the best travel routing, provide advice regarding calibres and packing list, explain the firearms importation process, identify necessary disease prophylaxis, provide references, and answer the many questions the client will have about the camp, the area, the best months and so on.
This can all be done in person, on the phone, or by internet, in half the time it would take to extract all this information from the typical operator. The latter, due to location, time zone, and profession may be incommunicado for long periods of time.
Handling the money. Taking the deposit and final hunt payment is another way the agent can be of help. It is far more convenient to make payments via an agent located “at home”, vs wiring money to a bank in a country that may change its name before the hunt takes place, or getting on a plane with a money belt bulging with $100 notes.
Clients headed to Zimbabwe, in particular, are often asked to bring cash to pay for their hunts. It is far safer to entrust the funds to the agent who will arrange to pay the operator at the appropriate times. In some cases, agents will hold some of the funds until the hunt is completed to the satisfaction of the client. This is a tricky area as “satisfaction” is a subjective concept. However, in cases where there is major uncertainty as to the outcome, this is a wise way to proceed.
You will note that I have not listed trophy handling in the list above. An agent will sometimes stay in the loop until trophies are hung in their reserved spots, but in reality, an agent cannot provide much help in getting trophies home. The outfitter is responsible for getting the trophies to the selected taxidermist for mounting or dip/pack, and for providing the necessary paperwork to cause the government cogs to turn in the necessary manner. The agent can only make sure the client understands how the process works.
Many clients allow the outfitter to select the taxidermist, who in turn selects the shipper. This works but is usually not the lowest cost solution. The client should appoint and negotiate directly with the taxidermist, as well as pick the export carrier based on crate dimensions and weights when these are known. This part of the process is rife with kickbacks and these can add to the final bill if the process is not managed.
Some clients believe they can protect themselves against fraud by booking through an agent. This is somewhat true, to the extent that a good agent is not going to hook a client up with a fly-by-night outfitter as his reputation is his only asset.
But even if the client pays for the hunt via the agent, he may not be able to recover damages by suing the agent if the hunt goes bad, other than perhaps the rather modest commission retained by the agent, and even then only if the agent has operated in bad faith. So in the event of a major letdown, the best the agent can usually do is to lean on his outfitter to settle the matter. If the agent is a good source of clients for the outfitter, he usually has a lot more leverage with the outfitter, and can negotiate a settlement on behalf of the client. But the main role of the agent is to help the client to avoid making a booking mistake in the first place.
Another point worth mentioning is the fairly common situation where a client wishes to book a repeat hunt with a particular operator. Many clients believe it is appropriate to go direct for follow-up hunts. Most agents have an agreement with the outfitter that they will receive a (reduced) commission on follow-up hunts, and the ethical outfitter will refer the client back to the agent for subsequent bookings anyway.
The agent should be able to clarify which species are common and which are not. It's important to spend some time sorting out which species are most important, what the household budget will withstand.The agent will help the client to develop a realistic and feasible set of objectives before making specific recommendations for a hunt.
Furthermore, an agent will sometimes advise a client to book with a different operator for a subsequent hunt. When he does so, it's usually for a good reason. In a recent situation, I advised a client who wished to book a third hunt with a particular operator, against doing so. The outfitter's access to a particular hunting area had been revoked, something the client was not aware of. The client chose to ignore my advice based on his relationship with and confidence in the outfitter. His hunt, in his own words, was a “bust”, and he returned trophyless, having hunted a secondary area and not seen as much as a fresh track made by the desired beast.
Finally, it is necessary to point out that not every agent is a “good” agent. There is no certification or qualification required to become an agent. Pretty much anyone can hang out a shingle and many do, mostly on a part-time basis.
There are slipshod agents who have only a superficial knowledge of the hunts they sell, will tell the client what he wants to hear, take his deposit, skim off a commission and then move on. These don't survive very long. And many hunters return from their first hunt in Africa having established an informal agreement with their PH to the effect that if the client returns with enough of his buddies, he will enjoy a free hunt. These folks are not bona-fide agents, they clearly have a major conflict of interest, their knowledge is usually limited to one high-fenced ranch, and they invariably fail to disclose their real role to their “clients”.
In summary, an agent can be a valuable and efficient resource in the hunt-planning process, provided one sticks to agents who are professionals and not amateurs, who have been in business for a number of years, and who are willing to take the time to understand and discuss the client's objectives and constraints before suggesting a hunt. On the other hand, clients who know exactly what they want and where to find it will not find an agent very useful.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Russ Gould owns and operates Big Five HQ (bigfivehq.com), a website offering heavy caliber magazine and double rifles, shooting and hunting accessories, and hunting safaris for plains and dangerous game in Zimbabwe, South Africa, Namibia, Tanzania and Mozambique.
When I could at last talk, I asked Adriaan what had happened to the back of his head and with a scowl he said “when I started taking really big steps I pulled the .416 off my shoulder in such a hurry and with such force, the rear sights hooked into my scalp, but I ripped it out anyway, because I needed both arms to try and run faster than Nick”. Another round of laughter ensued and gradually I was partially forgiven on the long walk back to the ‘Cruiser.
When we had stowed the weapons and I had relinquished my grip on the shooting sticks, we laughed, again, reliving the moment, the nervous laughter soothing any slightly ruffled egos. It was then that Adriaan once again came to the fore, providing us with more merriment. The older model Land Cruisers have a spring-loaded air vent down by the pedals, that can only be opened by being pushed with the foot, and the outer surface is obviously smooth, as it is operated internally. When these old vehicles were built it was in the days of genuine quality control and the spring could quite easily have functioned satisfactorily in a grizzly bear trap.
Nick stood next to me, on one side of the ‘Cruiser door, whilst politely chiding me for my somewhat entertaining sense of humour, and Adriaan leant against the vehicle on the other side of the door, closer to the vent, obeying the call of nature and saying “Pops sometimes it’s really tough to feel the love when….” At this moment he leant on the vehicle and started screaming in the most unmanly fashion.
Adrenaline, I have since discovered, affects different people in many different guises, in some it may be a simple flush of goose bumps, others may feel a rush of exhilarating energy whilst it seemed with Adriaan that certain body parts absorbed all the blood in his system to assume “the ready position”. It may have been purely unintentional, what do we know, but a certain part of his anatomy found the vent hole and his body inadvertently closed the vent. The resultant screams rang through the mopane woodlands. His wild “trapped” facial expressions reminded me of a constipated genet with a bowel full of crab shells. With absolutely no disrespect to adolescent little girls, the high pitched screams and shouts caused Nick and I to laugh hysterically, in between breaths - Adriaan cried for help, but we were truly incapacitated with laughter and could hardly stand, let alone free an almost decapitated one eyed trouser snake!
Adriaan was desperately clawing at the countersunk vent, his fingernails scraping at the bodywork of the vehicle, damaging the not so pristine paintwork, so that it looked as though it had lost a prolonged and dedicated battle with a particularly muscular and amorous porcupine. Adriaan amazed us with his musical repertoire, it is definitely the only time I have seen someone impersonate Michael Jacksons’ Moonwalk whilst being anatomically restrained.
When Adriaan managed to release his somewhat modified appendage, we applauded his showmanship, his ability to show us first hand valuable life lessons that we should never forget, for example don’t ever put your love truncheon in foreign cavities that have spring loaded flaps. The ground beside the vehicle showed the signs of the struggle, with uprooted grass and turned soil as though a group of Scottish coal miners had fought over a bag of Transvaal charcoal. The drive home was a raucous one - well, from two of the vehicles occupants anyway, whilst from the third there were surreptitious inspections to ensure that all was still where it was supposed to be.
This young man has now fully recovered and tells us there are no significant ill-effects from the experience. He has rapidly matured under tutorship into an experienced hunter, and I have no doubt that his passion for our wildlife and the outdoors will make him a wonderful ambassador for our hunting industry, and I would be proud to hunt beside him as a client.
Rifles, Shooting Sticks and Tight Holes
By Paulus
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