I was born in 1968 in the small farming community of Bedford in the Eastern Cape where my grandparents farmed apricots and peaches on our family farm, so I was privileged to have been exposed to, and to get to love, the great outdoors from a very young age. Other than shooting the odd porcupine that caused damage in the pumpkin fields, my Dad was not much of a hunter, so I would not describe myself as growing up in a family of hunters, but Dad’s cousin was a very prominent farmer, commercial pilot and businessman in the area. He owns a lot of land with plenty of game, and he still is very much a hunter.
My interest in hunting was sparked when I accompanied Dad and Uncle Chris one day on a drive on his farm outside Bedford. I was probably six or seven years of age at the time and felt especially important sitting between them in the Land Cruiser as we bumped over the rocky terrain of the Little Karoo. We crested a little ridge and spotted a herd of springbok down below. Uncle Chris turned to me and asked: “In the mood for some venison pie tonight?” Upon my confirmation, he got his rifle (I believe it was a .243) from behind the seat and said: “Stay behind me and stay quiet.” We started with a quick stalk to a nearby anthill. The crack of the shot and the sight of the springbok dropping in its tracks was enough to get me hooked on guns, and I just had to have my own rifle! I had to wait a few more years for this to happen...
It was a Gecado Model 27 that my Dad owned. That little pellet gun accounted for many successful (and unsuccessful) hunts for pigeons and doves over the years It still works and has an honorary spot in my rifle safe. One rule was made abundantly clear when I got that rifle: “You must be prepared to eat whatever you shoot,” or the rifle was to be returned. The only exception to this “eating what you shoot” rule was, of course rats and mice, so fortunately I never had to eat those, but many pigeons and doves were consumed after being braaied over a fire out in the bush.
At the time it never occurred to me that a career could be made from hunting. This did not stop me from fantasizing about hunting bigger game than pigeons and doves. After school I had “real jobs”, first as Forensic Crime Scene Investigator in the SA Police and later also in the corporate world.
My brother owned an air charter company and chartered for McDonald Safaris. I was once invited to accompany him on such a charter to Mozambique, and in the process, I got to spend time with Sandy McDonald. This was my first real exposure to professional hunting. At the time I was senior Manager in charge of the Fraud Division of a major South African Bank, and my hunting excursions were limited to as many hunts as time (and my budget) would allow in hunting season, so I was fascinated by the prospect of being able to do what I loved doing for a living - hunting.
I subsequently enrolled myself for a Professional Hunter’s course with the South African National Professional
