Rick Perry’s First Botswana Bowhunting Safari

Five months after surgery in the United States to treat a degenerative disease of the eyes called keratoconus, it was time to put them to the test. I was also looking forward to shooting my new Hoyt Trykon bow.

My brother-in-law, Brian, and I had spent countless hours shooting the foam and adjusting our sites, attempting different distances and angles just to be sure we wouldn’t miss any opportunity that might come our way. You know the feeling, like little boys getting ready for a big adventure. Let’s admit it, men never do grow up - their toys just get more expensive.

Brian and I packed our families and food for the drive to a private game farm about 40 km north of Kang on the edge of the Khutse Game Reserve. That first evening we were like kids with the portable blind I’d brought along, and set it up 20 metres from a waterhole. We moved our things inside and sat down on some of the most uncomfortable seats we could have wished for. However, that didn’t bother us long, because after only 5 minutes in the blind, a brown hyena jumped into the waterhole and began playing right in front of us. This was a good sign for the rest of the week.

Day 2, as we walked toward our blind we saw a herd of zebra only 15 metres from it. But as it would typically go, we were not in the blind, and they saw us before we saw them.

We settled in for another day of that strange combination of boredom and excitement. Having arrived long before the sun had even considered rising, we sat for nearly four hours when Brian said, “There it is!” It was a beautiful wildebeest coming in to the waterhole, a solitary bull that very much had a bull’s eye on it for Brian. You see, we’d placed a list of animals in a hat and drew to see who would get the first shot on the each.

Very quietly we moved into position. The bull came to within 80… 70… 60…. 50 metres when it happened… that ‘thunk’ sound. Not the string of the hunting bow, but a foot upon the steel base of the chair. Brian had hit the chair with his boot, and off the wildebeest ran. (Just adjusting my release while the hyena was in the water had sent him off as well.) He came back several times, but to no avail, as he never came closer than 70 metres.

Bowhunting involves a lot of patience, and mine was quickly running out. After days of sitting in blinds we set off on foot. With full camo in tack, I found a herd of wildebeest several hundred metres away. I made it to within 55 metres from them when they bolted, and I didn’t see them again.

The problem when stalking a herd of anything is that there are too many eyes watching and noses smelling, and Botswana’s flat terrain doesn’t make it any easier.

Brian had dung spread all over his clothing to attempt to block his scent. However, he was also as successful as I was in keeping the family away due to the terrible odours exuding from him when he arrived back in camp. Let’s just say the week didn’t go quite as well as we planned. The only successful hunter was my daughter who shot a bird with her brother’s Daisy BB gun. The workers on the farm were happy, but we weren’t impressed with our adventure so far. The only things we’d come close enough to kill were seven snakes – including five puff adders.

We’d all set in for the night when we heard Brian scream. He’d finally attempted to take a shower when a very aggressive bat started to take pot shots at him while he was in an awkward position to fight back. I got my son’s BB gun and we harvested a fine bat that evening, but no other game on this trip.

Naturally the root of any man’s problems is never his own lack of ability; it must be something or someone else’s fault. So the following weekend we went out to another Botswana game farm roughly 40 km outside of Jwaneng for gemsbok and springbok. The farm was amazing with herds of hundreds of springbok, and many other species. It was an even more challenging hunt as this farm was not in the least bit set up for bowhunting. Yet, this was to be the place of my first successful harvest of a game animal with a bow in Botswana.

Brian had decided to hunt with his .300 rifle on this trip and was en route for his gemsbok. We had found it, heading away from us. So we went after it. Beautiful is an understatement. This bull joined up with a second gemsbok of equal beauty. Finally he turned broadside at about 180 metres and Brian took his shot. The gemsbok, with 40-inch horns, fell right in its tracks, a shot directly to the heart.

Seeing how easy this was, I said, “Give me the gun!” – not thinking how long it had been since I’d last used a gun. I shot my buck in the guts, puncturing his lungs. Eventually he was down and we were able to save the meat; the trophy measured 35.5 inches, but I wasn’t impressed with myself.

Brian convinced me that I needed to ‘get back in the saddle’ and go after my springbok. The next morning we took off early, looking for that perfect shot. We came upon two male springbok that were so busy fighting they didn’t notice us. Then they split. Both stopped and turned broadside as if to say, “Here I am!” I placed my 40 pin on one just slightly high, and released the 125-grain Thunderhead carbon arrow. It went through the lung slicing the heart and he dropped 10 metres away. I cannot explain my feeling of accomplishment on taking a 12.5-inch springbok in Botswana with a bow.

If you’ve never hunted with a bow, consider giving it a try. The satisfaction of getting within 40 metres of an animal to shoot cannot be explained. No big boom - just you, the bush, and the quiet snap of your string.

Rick Perry is a missionary for the United Pentecostal Church International and has been living in Botswana since 1993. Married with two children, he is also one of the directors of Gabarone’s ‘The Learning Centre School’ – a non-profit organization dedicated to educating Botswana’s children.