Well, it was a long journey, but the results were worth the effort. It started with untold hours of planning, packing, and spending. Brad, Brain, and I were to join the Seth at his family ranch on Half-Moon Bluff (one of 17 residences on the Island).
The journey to the ranch was quite impressive. It involved a trek across a ferry where I was almost thrown in Git-Mo for bringing a "weapon" (i.e. a bow broken down and locked in a case) on board to packing massive amounts of stuff off the boat and onto the truck to make the 10 or so mile voyage through the islands massive stands of White and Water Oaks. This is all sandy road here. Speed limit is as fast as you dare to go. The faster you go, the more the ruts jar the bones and the overhanging branches strip the paint and steal the gear from the tangles of the hurried packing job. Not to mention you may run into one of the wild horses that are never in as big a hurry as you are.
We made it in good time. Seth had arranged all the meals (oysters, chili, grilled pig, chicken parmesan to name a few) and had the room assignment all squared away. Once unpacked, we were then free to go find stand locals. The short story was, I saw three bucks opening morning... a fork horn, then an 8 or 10 point, and a couple hours later had a spike come through with a new hair do compliments of Brad. Unfortunately, all three went exactly to the one place where I couldn't get a shot off.... Oh well... it was fun watching them come through all rutted up apparently chasing a doe who had come through before I got in the stand.
Brad and Seth were covered in hogs, with a few finding their way into the bow sites. Two made the journey to their rightful place on the grill. The next day was an interesting one. I hunted in the "hog zone" with Brad only to come up with nada by 10 am... not even a squirrel was seen. We then scouted for a good stand during the rain showers. We learned that these island bucks (and does and pigs) are seemingly bedding in the sea oats and thicket along the ocean dunes, and then journeying into the interior of the island to feed on the massive acorn crop and to get freaky with the does.
Brad and I found good locales for the next morning hunt. Mine was on the back side of a massive dune where the dune falls into the maritime forest. My stand was 40 feet below the dune, tucked in between 3 major trails. We couldn't believe that the deer were moving across the massive dunes in the wide open during the day on their search for love. Tracks were everywhere... all fresh since the hard rains a few hours earlier.
Brad had found a pine overlooking 5 trails where the Hardwoods turned into a nice stand of pines. The next morning I was able to get a 6 point in range, but again no good shot was presented (unless I wanted the Texas Heart shot or to spine him). Brad was able to put a buck and doe down for the ride to the house. We packed out, and then took Brian's boat back to the main land, 15 miles away. With all the gear plus 5 grown men.... lets say the boat's capacity was exceeded slightly.... but we were able to make a vigorous 17 knot pace at wide open throttle. So marks the close of another great 3 day hunt on the island. It was hotter and wetter than preferred, but an epic journey, the kind dreams are made of.
good story Jared, sounds exciting and prosperous. I remember a rattle snake on Blackbeard Island... and getting my breathing started back a few minutes later. I told Box to grab my belt and jerk me back, I was fraid my feet wouldn't work.
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