John Gryphon
Well-Known Member
As the topical Tahr wars unfold in NZ my mate put pen to paper. He is an avid Tahr man and does what he can to help save such an iconic game animal.
I lay on my back on the river bank and looked up through my bino’s at the mountain top across the river from us. At that stage I didn’t know its name, but over the next years it would affectionately get called Mt Misery. Between us and it was a raging dangerous piece of water and i was aware only too well that not far from where I lay deaths had occurred of people who had tried to cross.
What fascinated me, was the large number of Tahr I was seeing. We were kilometres away yet a line of Tahr could be seen filing across a rocky ridge. Dave and I discussed it. People were not hunting those Tahr. We should.
There was no legal helicopter access to these mountains or across that river. No trails or walking tracks across or up that mountains face. We were already 4 hours from the road. We were not stupid enough to try the river. We walked a further 2 hours until we reached our originally intended hunting area. A popular spot that sees good numbers of hunters. We tried to forget that mountain.
At 4 am the next morning, Dave and I woke ahead of the rest of our party and climbed up valley. With the last of the evening light we had spotted some huntable tahr and wanted to hit them at daylight.
Six am arrived and we were closing in, another 200 meters of altitude along a bush edge to reach the face the tahr were on. Dawn was half an hour away yet the sky was lightening but not enough yet to shoot. Not for us anyway but someone could. We jumped as a clatter over our heads and a roar of a turbine startled us. We ran as fast as we could to the edge, peering out, I knew what was happening as the chopper worked our face, the sound of shots just discernible over the rotor and engine noise.
A few minutes later the chopper flew off, its cargo strung underneath for us to see. We trudged back to camp for breakfast. The guys back at camp ironically informed us that they got nothing from their bunks either.
Next morning dave and I crossed that river. It was up to our chests and at one point we were floating but we had chosen well. We started climbing, and climbing. It started to hail but we carried on, thick Westland forest needs determination. The wind increased. A tree 100 meters to our right came crashing down. it was a real storm now but we knew tomorrow would be fine and better to use this day for travel so we could hunt the good days to come. the cold stung our faces and it got so incredibly steep. We were now passing our packs from one to the other and taking turns to climb. The hail was building up to look all the world like snow. Everything we touched made us wet.
After four hours we reached a point where we looked at each other, we were half way up a 30 meter rock slab hanging onto trees with the river 600 or more meters below us. Half way by our reckoning from the top. Cold, wet, miserable and realising that what was to come was beyond us. reluctantly we turned around and headed home. The river had changed while we were gone and all I’d like to say about that was we made it.
We layed a complaint about the chopper and were told that because we could not identify it properly they could not do anything.
Next year we were back. This time we had a boat. A small two man inflatable with outboard. Our idea was to portage were we needed to get far enough upstream to our mountain and use the boat on the easy water and to cross the river. It was a dumb idea and we smashed the motor within a couple of K and couldnt portage the boat due to terrain. We lost a day and went back to town to talk to James Scott about flying us in somewhere. He flew us up the Douglas. One of the few places a chopper is allowed to land recreational hunters in the national park and very popular. James doesn’t say much but he laughed when we told him where we had tried to take a boat, and then turned ad incredulously looked at us when we pointed out where we had climbed the year before. You are crazy he said.
I’d never been into the Douglas before and it looked a cool spot. We walked up to the lake and spent the evening looking for Tahr and routes up to the tops. With a plan made we got up early next morning and started. At daylight a chopper flew in and shot all the face were were heading for. We went back and hunted and explored the moraine clearings. Some sign and a little glimpse of a chamois that saw us first.
next morning we were up at four again to try another area. At 6.30 as we sat and waited for shooting light the same chopper came in and shot the face we were on. This was how our week went. Every day we got up early, climbed, got beaten by that chopper, slept on the hill for the day, hunted the evening but with little luck and returned to camp after dark each night. Another group of hunters arrived. they knew the area well and had a plan for a big bull. Two of them left to climb a ridge we thought was unclimbable and slept there the night just under the bulls waiting for them to come out next morning. We stayed in camp so that Haha, we didn’t ruin things for them by shooting a tahr elsewhere, and watched their efforts through the spotting scope.
We saw their tent and we saw the Tahr emerge and start to head their way. then we heard those dreaded rotors. So did those tahr. They were off. The guys returned to camp. We talked and the one thing to come out of it was that we had a group of people who could identify the chopper. We had them.
Next morning we flew out and headed straight to the Doc office. We sat for two hours while a staff member took down our evidence and we signed the official complaint.
Later when I rang to find out what action would be taken because I had heard nothing, I was told no complaint existed.
Dave didn’t hunt tahr for some years after that, so I had to find other adventurers. Gryphon joined me along with Tim. I had a new idea for that mountain. We carried an inflatable and our packs the 4 hours to the river and crossed. We climbed for 8 hours through the bush and slept under a rock for the night. Next morning we climbed for 6 hours and camped just under the tahr.
It had taken half a day longer than Id thought. Tim and Gryphon got their first Tahr and after the effort and years, I was rapt to take a nice old bull just under 13 inch’s as a memento of what it had taken to get here. next morning the chopper from the year before flew over and buzzed the face above us with no luck. I cheered as for the first time I had beaten him and he got to see our success. We packed and left as the weather was changing and we needed to cross the river, plus id misjudged how long it took to climb the hill, we were running out of time.
We didn’t bother calling in to DOC to report his actions.
Ive climbed Mt Misery once since then with some Swedish hunters. They were young and fit and strong beyond belief, yet that river scared them so that I could see the fear on their faces and the mountain tired them so that they told me if they had of understood what i was saying before we left, they would not have come.
A year or so later another Swedish hunter would go missing not far from here and not be found as of yet. Maybe never will. I wonder if it was the mountains, or the river?
We spent four days in the cloud, not able to see. We could hear tahr feeding around us but the fog was so dense that we could not get a shot. Finally Emil picked up his rifle and ran across a valley towards a noise as fast as he could, disappearing into the mist like a mad man. Seconds later a shot rang out and he had a beautiful bull to remember MT Misery by. We had no boat this year and had to cross the river so with bad weather on the way and a terrifying crossing coming up we packed and left for safety.
Ive enjoyed all my time around or on that mountain, even though there has been much frustration and challenge. But at this time as I listen to out minister of conservation talk about hunters not doing their part, and I think back at the road blocks and difficulties placed in our way and the deceit ive seen from her dept i get very angry. I have followed the rules layed out before me BY DOC, and I have tried hard to do my part despite the difficulties and dangers and know there is a much better way to manage this population than the one we have been allowed.
I lay on my back on the river bank and looked up through my bino’s at the mountain top across the river from us. At that stage I didn’t know its name, but over the next years it would affectionately get called Mt Misery. Between us and it was a raging dangerous piece of water and i was aware only too well that not far from where I lay deaths had occurred of people who had tried to cross.
What fascinated me, was the large number of Tahr I was seeing. We were kilometres away yet a line of Tahr could be seen filing across a rocky ridge. Dave and I discussed it. People were not hunting those Tahr. We should.
There was no legal helicopter access to these mountains or across that river. No trails or walking tracks across or up that mountains face. We were already 4 hours from the road. We were not stupid enough to try the river. We walked a further 2 hours until we reached our originally intended hunting area. A popular spot that sees good numbers of hunters. We tried to forget that mountain.
At 4 am the next morning, Dave and I woke ahead of the rest of our party and climbed up valley. With the last of the evening light we had spotted some huntable tahr and wanted to hit them at daylight.
Six am arrived and we were closing in, another 200 meters of altitude along a bush edge to reach the face the tahr were on. Dawn was half an hour away yet the sky was lightening but not enough yet to shoot. Not for us anyway but someone could. We jumped as a clatter over our heads and a roar of a turbine startled us. We ran as fast as we could to the edge, peering out, I knew what was happening as the chopper worked our face, the sound of shots just discernible over the rotor and engine noise.
A few minutes later the chopper flew off, its cargo strung underneath for us to see. We trudged back to camp for breakfast. The guys back at camp ironically informed us that they got nothing from their bunks either.
Next morning dave and I crossed that river. It was up to our chests and at one point we were floating but we had chosen well. We started climbing, and climbing. It started to hail but we carried on, thick Westland forest needs determination. The wind increased. A tree 100 meters to our right came crashing down. it was a real storm now but we knew tomorrow would be fine and better to use this day for travel so we could hunt the good days to come. the cold stung our faces and it got so incredibly steep. We were now passing our packs from one to the other and taking turns to climb. The hail was building up to look all the world like snow. Everything we touched made us wet.
After four hours we reached a point where we looked at each other, we were half way up a 30 meter rock slab hanging onto trees with the river 600 or more meters below us. Half way by our reckoning from the top. Cold, wet, miserable and realising that what was to come was beyond us. reluctantly we turned around and headed home. The river had changed while we were gone and all I’d like to say about that was we made it.
We layed a complaint about the chopper and were told that because we could not identify it properly they could not do anything.
Next year we were back. This time we had a boat. A small two man inflatable with outboard. Our idea was to portage were we needed to get far enough upstream to our mountain and use the boat on the easy water and to cross the river. It was a dumb idea and we smashed the motor within a couple of K and couldnt portage the boat due to terrain. We lost a day and went back to town to talk to James Scott about flying us in somewhere. He flew us up the Douglas. One of the few places a chopper is allowed to land recreational hunters in the national park and very popular. James doesn’t say much but he laughed when we told him where we had tried to take a boat, and then turned ad incredulously looked at us when we pointed out where we had climbed the year before. You are crazy he said.
I’d never been into the Douglas before and it looked a cool spot. We walked up to the lake and spent the evening looking for Tahr and routes up to the tops. With a plan made we got up early next morning and started. At daylight a chopper flew in and shot all the face were were heading for. We went back and hunted and explored the moraine clearings. Some sign and a little glimpse of a chamois that saw us first.
next morning we were up at four again to try another area. At 6.30 as we sat and waited for shooting light the same chopper came in and shot the face we were on. This was how our week went. Every day we got up early, climbed, got beaten by that chopper, slept on the hill for the day, hunted the evening but with little luck and returned to camp after dark each night. Another group of hunters arrived. they knew the area well and had a plan for a big bull. Two of them left to climb a ridge we thought was unclimbable and slept there the night just under the bulls waiting for them to come out next morning. We stayed in camp so that Haha, we didn’t ruin things for them by shooting a tahr elsewhere, and watched their efforts through the spotting scope.
We saw their tent and we saw the Tahr emerge and start to head their way. then we heard those dreaded rotors. So did those tahr. They were off. The guys returned to camp. We talked and the one thing to come out of it was that we had a group of people who could identify the chopper. We had them.
Next morning we flew out and headed straight to the Doc office. We sat for two hours while a staff member took down our evidence and we signed the official complaint.
Later when I rang to find out what action would be taken because I had heard nothing, I was told no complaint existed.
Dave didn’t hunt tahr for some years after that, so I had to find other adventurers. Gryphon joined me along with Tim. I had a new idea for that mountain. We carried an inflatable and our packs the 4 hours to the river and crossed. We climbed for 8 hours through the bush and slept under a rock for the night. Next morning we climbed for 6 hours and camped just under the tahr.
It had taken half a day longer than Id thought. Tim and Gryphon got their first Tahr and after the effort and years, I was rapt to take a nice old bull just under 13 inch’s as a memento of what it had taken to get here. next morning the chopper from the year before flew over and buzzed the face above us with no luck. I cheered as for the first time I had beaten him and he got to see our success. We packed and left as the weather was changing and we needed to cross the river, plus id misjudged how long it took to climb the hill, we were running out of time.
We didn’t bother calling in to DOC to report his actions.
Ive climbed Mt Misery once since then with some Swedish hunters. They were young and fit and strong beyond belief, yet that river scared them so that I could see the fear on their faces and the mountain tired them so that they told me if they had of understood what i was saying before we left, they would not have come.
A year or so later another Swedish hunter would go missing not far from here and not be found as of yet. Maybe never will. I wonder if it was the mountains, or the river?
We spent four days in the cloud, not able to see. We could hear tahr feeding around us but the fog was so dense that we could not get a shot. Finally Emil picked up his rifle and ran across a valley towards a noise as fast as he could, disappearing into the mist like a mad man. Seconds later a shot rang out and he had a beautiful bull to remember MT Misery by. We had no boat this year and had to cross the river so with bad weather on the way and a terrifying crossing coming up we packed and left for safety.
Ive enjoyed all my time around or on that mountain, even though there has been much frustration and challenge. But at this time as I listen to out minister of conservation talk about hunters not doing their part, and I think back at the road blocks and difficulties placed in our way and the deceit ive seen from her dept i get very angry. I have followed the rules layed out before me BY DOC, and I have tried hard to do my part despite the difficulties and dangers and know there is a much better way to manage this population than the one we have been allowed.
Last edited:
