I was just finishing cleaning the garage at 11 am when Brad called me up! He was going to be able to hunt today after all. I threw my gear in the truck and headed to his house. I arrived finding Brad practicing some extremely long distance shots with his bow, so I grabbed mine and tried some “shorter” distance shooting. After an hour of shooting, we cleaned up, donned some camo and headed for the pig island. It was a beautiful day, 75 degrees, clear skies, and a light breeze out of the North West. We loaded the gear in the boat and set off towards a canal into a part of the Island we have never hunted. Because it was low tide we were going to have to explore for the next 2 hours until the tide gave us access to the spot we wanted to hunt at nightfall.
We entered the canal at 2:15pm, and as we rounded a bend, Brad picked a spot to moor, and asked me to climb one of the trees along to shore to see over the tall grass the borders the canals along the island. I spotted a suitable one, and climbed up. As soon as I got to a high vantage point, I spotted fresh rooting, from earlier in the day. We knew with the heat of the day, the pigs would be bedded, so we decided to just check where the pigs were rooting for sign, and would come back and hunt it later. Brad asked before he got out of the boat, if I wanted my bow and back pack, to which I replied no. I wouldn’t need it in the 100 yard walk to the rooting.
We pushed through the tall grass, and made out way to the rooting, and found lots of fresh sign. It all was pointing to a hammock in the marsh 200 yards away, so we decided to amble on over and give it a once over. We arrived there, found some older beds (probably for use during extreme tides) and then saw fresh tracks heading into the islands center. We decided that due to the heat of the day, we should just pattern them for the next time we hunt. We pushed on, splitting up, walking parallel 100 feet apart. I was busting through some of the taller stuff as Brad walked in the lower waist high grass in case he got a bow shot. We started finding fresh beds. We stopped at one that was a 10 foot circle of matted reeds that had been bit off and piled into a mattress.
After a couple pictures of it, Brad went back into the lower grass, as I proceeded into the thick stuff. I hadn’t walked 20 feet from the bed when the grass 15 feet in front of me busted a bit. I stopped and held my hand over my head, signaling I had heard one. Finally after a minute, Brad looked my way. I pointed to where the pig was and he moved into a position of intercept. Once Brad got in position, I started pushing on.
To any who haven’t hunted pigs, there is something about moving blindly (I am in 5-6 foot tall grass at this point) and deliberately trying to motivate a pig, that can be a bit unsettling. None the less, I start moving towards where I knew the pig to be……. And nothing happened. I get with in 10 feet nothing, with in 5 feet nothing… at three feet I stop. There is a 1 foot wide feeder creek, and I am one foot from the edge of it, and where I knew the pig to be is 1 foot on the other side of it. LITERALLY, 3 feet is separating me from the pig, and I can not see it AT ALL! I have my .45 caliber hand gun drawn, and I sit there trying to make the pig out, to no avail. Ba Dum, Ba Dum, Ba Dum…. All I can hear is my heart in my ears.
WHOOSH the pig breaks. I guess the silence was killing him too. As soon as he busts, I get something brown flying up at my face. It’s a damn good thing I keep my finger on the trigger guard, cuz my reaction was to yank. Apparently when the pig busted, it spooked up a snipe, which flew right at me. (Yes there really is such a thing as a snipe). I see the pig plowing through the six foot tall grass and give chase. It headed in a direction away from Brad, and soon I see the pig reach an opening 45 yards away, and can make it out well. Nice size pig… probably 300 pounds. It’s doing the pig lob (kind of a mix between a trot and a run) across the big clearing. I follow it with my eyes until I see where it buggers up, in a clump of tall grass 400 yards away. Brad hustles over and we start coming up with a game plan. The grass the pig ran into was a finger of tall grass that merges into a wall of tall grass that borders the main river. We set off after the pig, Brad takes his bow and heads to the clearing on the right side of the finger, and I head to the left side clearing.
The plan is, for me to get in position, and bust a pig out on Brad who will be lying in wait on the clearing, and can nab it when it hits the clearing. Like all plans, that’s not what happens. As soon as I get near the grass (By near I mean 50 yards) I start seeing grass moving everywhere. Directly in front of me, in the tall wall of grass bordering the river, I see three pigs moving. To my right (the grass finger the big pig went into, which Brad is on the other side of) I see another one start moving towards Brad. I get my nerve together, and push in. I make it ten feet in, when the grass starts shaking in front of me. I hold. Nothing happens. Silence so loud it was deafening. I waited for a minute then push on. Twenty feet passes… and nothing. I know I have a pig in front of me, but it’s not moving. I take another step, when WOOOSHHHH, something big is coming right at me, I hold, it busts by me 10 feet to my left making for the clearing I just came out of… I start for the same clearing. As soon as I start running for the clearing, another pig busts out for the clearing (and away from Brad). I hit the clearing as the first pig busts out. HUGE BOAR, bi colored, over 300 pounds, closer to 400, and ambling straight away. I hold waiting for the next pig. It comes out 25 yards from me, I yank up my pistol, and draw a bead on the front shoulder and squeeze.
BOOM. The handgun barks, my ears start ringing, and I watch 200 pounds of Black pig does a somersault. Literally, the pig goes butt over head and then keeps moving. It lets out a grunt and tries to run with one leg obviously broken. I finger the trigger again…. BOOM, second shot slaps the pig, and turns her enough that now she’s heading my way (she wasn’t charging me, she just took the shot and was trying to run away, and happened to be facing my way after the second shot). Three more touches of the trigger and the pig finally piles up 15 yards away.
I give it 5 minutes, and then go observe my kill. First shot entered perfectly (I am a good shot with my SIG, but even I was surprised to see how perfectly the first shot hit) above the knee joint, and punctured heart and lungs, and broke off side shoulder before exiting. Second shot hit back in the ribs angling forward and stopping in the neck (where I recovered the bullet which didn’t expand at all).
The next three shots were all near each other entering in front of the shoulder (in the brisket) and exiting just behind the off side shoulder.
Anyways, Brad and I drag the pig to a small tree where I begin butchering it, while Brad scouts the rest of this part of the island. After an hour, I have all the usable meat, and Brad and I head for the boat. Its 430pm, so we move to another hunting spot, and set out. Brad takes one side of the clearing, I take another. With in 100 feet I hear pigs in tall grass on my right. Brad and I shadowed them as then made all kinds of ruckus (We assume that it was two boars fighting to breed a sow as they didn’t really know we were there, and they were very vocal.) We never got a chance to put a bead on one of them, but we did see one amble out across the flat 40 yards away at dark. Absolutely one of the most exciting hunts I have ever had the pleasure of partaking in! Big thanks to Brad for making it happen!


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