Ive already posted a memoriam to Frank, but thought I would put down how we spent Franks last week.
We had last been over in 2021, and had tried to get back sooner – but the “daily do” stuff of life kept getting in the way. On the bright side it had given us quite a bit of time to gather new kit to gift once we did arrive.Finally the day came, Mountain Bug and I left our respective homes and started the travel day that would never end. We met again at London’s largest duty free shop that also happens to be an airport. Then we got delayed. The BA flight to Aberdeen (we normally prefer Inverness, but the flight selections were crap) was repeatedly delayed and we finally got out about 2 hours late. That meant issues with our car hire – now we were certainly going to finish the trip in both darkness and rain. I was doing well with my refresher course on driving on the wrong side up until Inverness. We stopped at Tesco supplies, and then as jet lag hit the drive got challenging. Eventually we found the cottage, and texted Frank we were in.
The next day plan was birds. Frank and his brother John greeted us at 0600, while we were still downing coffees and trying to convince our brains and bodies it was morning. Off we went to the goose field, that yesterday had held 1000+ birds from Orkney. However, the all night rain had made the lower fields much more attractive to the geese – so we just scratched by with a 8 birds, while thousands were less than ½ mile away.
We called it good with our 8, and headed for the Scrabster pier for a full Scottish. After that it was out to see if I could add a Black neck pheasant to my checklist. Alas it was not to be, the birds knew the game better than we – most flushed wild, and the few that presented any shot at all were still at the outer edge of range. So, some good time afield but no birds in the bag.
Back for a nap, before our evening duck flight. Again, right on schedule Frank picked us up and off we went, along with John, and we got set up on the pond. The same rain that had made the lower fields irresistible to the geese also worked on the ducks. We had a few come in but not what was hoped for. My bright spot was that I finally connected on a teal. Last trip over I had decided that night shooting teal was some of the sportiest shooting I had ever tried (and failed). This time I wasn’t a failure. All said it was a grand evening.
The next morning Frank had some guests coming over from Orkney, Jason and Richard, to try for Richards first roe. What this meant for us was that we got to sleep in a bit, got to go back for another full Scottish pier side while waiting for the ferry, and then go stalk roe.The morning was smashing success. We were on a bit of ground with the North Atlantic as a backdrop, a dilapidated castle to our left and a Cnoc to the right – with harvested barley fields in front – each lined with the flagstone fences Caithness is known for.
A careful stalk put us at the gate to a field with several roe does. I got lined up and said to Scott we would go on the count of 3. He said NO. He had the coffee jitters and wasn’t able to hold steady. So I went ahead and grassed a doe and follower, and then asked Scott if he wanted to use my gun. Since I was prone and using a bipod I thought this might make him more steady. He obliged – scooted over as I rolled off the rifle, and he took down another pair.
As we were dragging them back to the truck Richard and Jason showed up. Richard had fresh blood on his cheeks, courtesy of Jason. All in all a cracking morning. Once the roe were gralloched and loaded off we went for bit of lunch.
Franks plan for Richard and Jason was back to the same spot as the morning, as that area also held Reds and Sika. As to me and Scott, he asked if I wanted to shoot a red stag. I was puzzled, of course I would like that but didn’t stag season go out yesterday? Well, yes, but… this particular stag has been making himself a nuisance. He was driven out of the herd, has taken up residence in a pasture, has rutted a big wallow in the pasture, and has been harrying the sheep.
So, off we went. Met with the farmer and he was adamant. Yes, the bastard is down there right now and just shoot him. I wish I could say it was difficult or challenging stalk, but it really wasn’t. With a hedgerow and stone fence for cover I was able to get undetected to the 125 yard mark and made a clean shot, dropping him right there. His antler were still covered in fresh mud, and the fact he was rutting (or attempting to) was evident to the nose 25 yards away.
Two days down and everything has been going our way. You certainly know what comes next.
We had last been over in 2021, and had tried to get back sooner – but the “daily do” stuff of life kept getting in the way. On the bright side it had given us quite a bit of time to gather new kit to gift once we did arrive.Finally the day came, Mountain Bug and I left our respective homes and started the travel day that would never end. We met again at London’s largest duty free shop that also happens to be an airport. Then we got delayed. The BA flight to Aberdeen (we normally prefer Inverness, but the flight selections were crap) was repeatedly delayed and we finally got out about 2 hours late. That meant issues with our car hire – now we were certainly going to finish the trip in both darkness and rain. I was doing well with my refresher course on driving on the wrong side up until Inverness. We stopped at Tesco supplies, and then as jet lag hit the drive got challenging. Eventually we found the cottage, and texted Frank we were in.
The next day plan was birds. Frank and his brother John greeted us at 0600, while we were still downing coffees and trying to convince our brains and bodies it was morning. Off we went to the goose field, that yesterday had held 1000+ birds from Orkney. However, the all night rain had made the lower fields much more attractive to the geese – so we just scratched by with a 8 birds, while thousands were less than ½ mile away.
We called it good with our 8, and headed for the Scrabster pier for a full Scottish. After that it was out to see if I could add a Black neck pheasant to my checklist. Alas it was not to be, the birds knew the game better than we – most flushed wild, and the few that presented any shot at all were still at the outer edge of range. So, some good time afield but no birds in the bag.
Back for a nap, before our evening duck flight. Again, right on schedule Frank picked us up and off we went, along with John, and we got set up on the pond. The same rain that had made the lower fields irresistible to the geese also worked on the ducks. We had a few come in but not what was hoped for. My bright spot was that I finally connected on a teal. Last trip over I had decided that night shooting teal was some of the sportiest shooting I had ever tried (and failed). This time I wasn’t a failure. All said it was a grand evening.
The next morning Frank had some guests coming over from Orkney, Jason and Richard, to try for Richards first roe. What this meant for us was that we got to sleep in a bit, got to go back for another full Scottish pier side while waiting for the ferry, and then go stalk roe.The morning was smashing success. We were on a bit of ground with the North Atlantic as a backdrop, a dilapidated castle to our left and a Cnoc to the right – with harvested barley fields in front – each lined with the flagstone fences Caithness is known for.
A careful stalk put us at the gate to a field with several roe does. I got lined up and said to Scott we would go on the count of 3. He said NO. He had the coffee jitters and wasn’t able to hold steady. So I went ahead and grassed a doe and follower, and then asked Scott if he wanted to use my gun. Since I was prone and using a bipod I thought this might make him more steady. He obliged – scooted over as I rolled off the rifle, and he took down another pair.
As we were dragging them back to the truck Richard and Jason showed up. Richard had fresh blood on his cheeks, courtesy of Jason. All in all a cracking morning. Once the roe were gralloched and loaded off we went for bit of lunch.
Franks plan for Richard and Jason was back to the same spot as the morning, as that area also held Reds and Sika. As to me and Scott, he asked if I wanted to shoot a red stag. I was puzzled, of course I would like that but didn’t stag season go out yesterday? Well, yes, but… this particular stag has been making himself a nuisance. He was driven out of the herd, has taken up residence in a pasture, has rutted a big wallow in the pasture, and has been harrying the sheep.
So, off we went. Met with the farmer and he was adamant. Yes, the bastard is down there right now and just shoot him. I wish I could say it was difficult or challenging stalk, but it really wasn’t. With a hedgerow and stone fence for cover I was able to get undetected to the 125 yard mark and made a clean shot, dropping him right there. His antler were still covered in fresh mud, and the fact he was rutting (or attempting to) was evident to the nose 25 yards away.
Two days down and everything has been going our way. You certainly know what comes next.
