July 20th- "Dinner with a Writer"

July 20^th   Dinner with a Writer

Last night I attended our Orange County Safari Club chapter meeting.  This one was a little more special than most.  Aside from the prime rib, fare not usually available at our dinner meetings, my “date” last night was my ten year old daughter Chaney.  She is a huntress and felt it was high time she start attending the meetings of the club.  I couldn’t agree more.

We also had a unique treat last night.  Our guest speaker was the great outdoor writer and hunter Craig Boddington.  I’ve met Mr. Boddington at events over the years and I own a bunch of his books.  It is not so much that he is a great writer….he is…or that he is unbelievably prolific in his writing….he is that too… in spades.  (If you are wondering who Craig Boddington is go to any magazine stand and peruse the shooting and hunting rags.  I can guarantee you that in any current issue you will find at least one article penned by him.  What really makes Boddington stand out though is his ability to speak.  He is a storyteller and a teacher. 

Way back in my earlier Jungle Cruise skipper days I learned from veteran that the key to being a good skipper was not just simply being a comedian.  Anyone can make someone laugh if they had the requisite skills….what really stood you apart was your ability to tell a narrative in such a way as to make the person feel that they were being let in on a secret. 

Mr. Boddington is a master at this.

Last night we learned about Cape Buffalo. 

This is a Cape Buffalo that my wife photographed a few years back on our safari.  I wasn't hunting them at the time...which is too bad...this guy was a beauty!  They have a look that subtly says "I can kill you at any moment...and you are beginning to annoy me."

Well…not just Cape Buffalo, but the whole culture, cruelty and majestic beauty of these might African beasts.  Thankfully my checkbook was home with my wife.  Had it been in my possession I would have booked a hunt last night.  The lecture was that infectious. 

Cape Buffalo are one part of what is called the Big 5 in Africa.  Lion, Elephant, Leopard, Hippo..and Cape Buffalo.  Each has a long rap sheet of human animal contact with the human part coming out the looser in the equation.  Make no mistake….these are dangerous game, and their lethality is their identity, and ironically the source of their cruel beauty. 

But, as we learned last night, not all Cape Buffalo are created equal.  Some are worthy of being removed from the gene pool, and some need to be kept in the herd longer to allow them to pass along their DNA.  It is our job as hunters to help manage those herds and make the snap decision as to what is a shooter and what is a trophy for someone else a couple of years down the road.

Something else struck me last night…

The people of SCI are as unique and important as the animals we pursue.  SCI is a fairly egalitarian club.  Rank and economic status play no part in the quality of the person shaking your hand, or sitting at your table trading hunting stories.  Rolexes, and Timexs mingle with each other without a shred of self-conciseness.

To a person all treated Chaney less as a young novelty…(10 year old huntresses are just not that common in Southern California)…and more of an equal in our hunting tradition.  Adults that talked to her wanted to hear of her hunts…and she told them the details of her stories enthusiastically.  Once she would finish they would reciprocate with their own adventures. 

Our campfire was white linen table clothes and banquette chairs, and the stars over our head were replaced with fluorescent lighting, but the tradition was the same as it has been for thousands of years.  Hunters telling other hunters stories of their hunts as they shared a meal.

These are good people. 

Men and women who abide by a code of honor that restrains them far more than legal ramifications, or public condemnation can.  They are protectors of the environment that do the hard work.  They literally protect the environment. And they do it with a dedication and humility that borders and the transcendent. 

They are hunters. 

My girls and I are proud to call them our friends.