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Story written by Bevan Lowen The Stina Burn and my third consecutive successful Wapiti ballot in a row...awesome! The team this year was Chris, Marty, Phil, Ivan and myself. These guys were as enthusiastic as me; which is important when waiting days on end for the weather gods to reveal the truly majestic mountainous landscape that Fiordland has to offer. 
Although no animals of significance were taken, apart from Marty’s 9 point red as a memento, a lot of fun was had. Day 1 saw us heading out of camp and up to the hill with full bellies of crayfish, thanks to the skipper on the way in to Bligh sounds. 
I also took my 4m alloy mission boat to hunt further areas of our block and catch one or two blue cod and some more crays. 
On this trip I had more satisfaction from the photo’s I took. Of the six stags I roared in, the following two will always be remembered and talked about around the camp fires for years to come. On reaching the clearing I could hear two stags roaring, I was hoping for a bugle as the previous evening I had seen what looked to be a bull from the tops. This turned out to be a pure bred cow and a red holding it. I soon had the stag holding this cow out in the middle of the swamp clearing. He was a 10 pointer and what unfolded next I still laugh about. After roaring a few times he eventually lay down and began scratching his back with his feet in the air and digging his antlers into the soft swamp. All this time I am a mere 40 -50 meters away. He then sat up as though to enjoy the sun, still answering my roars. About twenty minutes had passed now so I stood up and said “mate, I’m not going to shoot you today and will just pass on through”. Instead of taking to his scrapers he answered with yet another roar! I had now calmly walked even closer in full view. Repacking my day pack and walking away from the clearing, he followed me through the bush keeping his distance (I later joked with the boys that I didn’t need a roaring horn as my pet stag did a better job). Eventually, as I climbed out of the valley he stopped roaring, perhaps finally cutting my scent? The next stag was a pure bred wapiti bull. I was out on the head water tops heading for the coastal ridge where I had seen a good bull two years earlier from the Mt Longsight base camp. I had just bugled and instantly had two replies: one from way down toward Chasm head and the other higher further along the tops. Getting closer, I could see he wasn’t carrying a trophy head. Climbing higher I found him waiting for me and at only 30 meters was rewarded with some close shots in a broad side-on position. Looking down I asked him, “mate could you turn this way for a photo’’ his response was “sure” and turned to face me. After what seemed minutes he turned and slowly walked away. I encountered more bulls that were also too small to take. There was plenty of bugle/ roars for the first period. We were impressed with this block and would hunt it again given the opportunity. |
