Dave’s Spot and Stalk Experience | Part I

Dave’s Spot and Stalk Experience | Part I

The Spot and Stalk

Deer are most active just before dawn and around sunset, so Jeff and I had agreed to a 6am start. Much later, and there was a risk they’d be hunkered down and sheltering somewhere in the cool April air. We needed to surprise them.

Jeff is my guide at Poronui, leading me around the 8,200 hectares of the estate in search of an impressive stag and a good story. He’s waiting patiently for me at the Lodge, where the fire is burning quietly and the kitchen is already humming in preparation for the day’s guests. Jeff and I sit down, each with a coffee. I grab a bowl of the Lodge’s muesli to put some fuel in me, and we go over the plan.

I tell Jeff how I’ve shot Reds before, in the wilds of the North Island’s Te Urewera ranges, but not Sika or Fallow – they’ve always been too elusive, too crafty.

But I’d love to try their meat, and taking a trophy of any size home would be incredible.

He thinks for a moment, swallows a mouthful of coffee, then comes up with a plan to get me a Sika stag. He’s seen some prime stags hanging out in a far corner of the estate, and is confident there’s a basin worth checking out.

We finish our coffees, say our hellos to the other guides prepping their guests, and head out the door. Jeff’s dog Marty waits for us in the back of the Polaris.

Even over the hum of the engine, I can hear Reds roaring in the distance, and my heart starts thumping. In Aotearoa New Zealand, the weeks across March and April mark the ‘roar’ – or the ‘rut’ – when every stag is after a fight or a doe (or, ideally, both). They’ve spent the spring and summer fattening up, and now they’re puffed up with testosterone and signalling to every other deer that can hear them that they’re a strong and worthy mate. Jeff can see that I’m itching to go.

We wind across the estate, up and down dirt roads, and as we do Jeff points out various parts of the property: the pheasant drives, the lookouts, the stables, the butchering area where deer are harvested, the eucalyptus trees planted decades ago now lining the river, Eve’s lookout (named for Poronui’s first Lodge Manager). We spook a pair of shaggy rams, who snort at us and disappear behind a knoll. And while Jeff answers my endless questions about the estate, and we chat about stalking, he’s got one eye scanning the fields. He’s searching for my personal trophy.

Jeff does a double take, before pulling off the track and shutting off the engine; he’s spotted a Sika.

Jeff points to the other side of the valley, at least two hundred yards away. I can’t see much except a few smudges of native trees and clutches of long grass – until movement catches my eye, and I line it up with the binoculars Jeff hands me: a Sika stag, walking a few paces, and lowering its head to feed. It hasn’t spotted us.

As we approach the colder months, the deer soak up as much sun as they can, and often tuck themselves into a valley or into a thicket of native manuka to protect against the wind. This one, full of testosterone in the roar, is puffed up and ready to feed, fight, and mate. By now, Jeff has set up his spotting scope on a tripod, and we’re taking turns watching this stag strutting around, proud, bellowing for any other stags or hinds around to know he’s there. Marty joins us, sitting quietly on the damp grass.

We glass the Sika until the stag disappears over the hill – so we jump back into the Polaris. Jeff has a hunch as to where he’s drifted, and plans for us to cut it off. Our path takes us deeper into the estate, and back to the other side of the valley. In the meantime, he checks in with the other hunting groups to make sure we’re not going to clash with their plans.

Jeff cuts the engine next to a small rise, and we jump out with the firearm; Marty stays in the Polaris. Following the posts of an old fence, we come across our stag with a hind, each idly following each other around a shrub about a hundred yards away. We duck behind a bush for cover.

Once again my heart is in my throat. There’s our target: a modest animal, with sharp antlers, and a bright chestnut coat with creamy white on its belly and flecks along its back.

The stalk is on.