NEWFOUNDLAND MOOSE 2006
Hunting Trip #13: 13 Sept – 22 Sept
Here follow my journal notes from our September
moose hunt in Newfoundland. It's my hope that the
readers might get a view of an incredible week with
my sons, Joey and Robby. Enjoy!
WEDNESDAY-FRIDAY, 13-15 SEPT.
These were travel days. We were pulling a highly customized trailer.
We filled the gas tank in Port Huron ($2.19/gal)
and crossed into Canada at Sarnia at about
7:30A and, after registering our firearms, drove
to about 11:20P, putting on about 770 miles. Along the way, somewhere past Montreal, we stopped
for gas and when I asked to use the “washroom”, the attendant handed me a key and a flashlight…
a washroom with no electricity! The next day, we drove through the remainder of Quebec and
crossed into New Brunswick.
The fall colors were quite advanced and we enjoyed many more miles of new highway than our
last visit to this province (2003)—with a lot more road building activity going on. Trouble with my
Master Card at a service station in New Brunswick (my purchases in Ontario and Quebec and New
Brunswick triggered a “red flag” at MC headquarters and so I had to straighten everything out)
cost us about 40 minutes and, together with a one-hour time change caused us to be too late for the
ferry in Nova Scotia. We ended up spending the night in North Sydney and taking the 11A ferry on
Friday. It was a lovely day for sailing!
We got to Port aux Basque, Newfoundland at about 6:30p and began the drive up to Rocky
Harbour. We arrived at our reserved cabin about 11P.
SATURDAY, 16 SEPT.
After we awoke and changed from our travel clothes to our hunting outfits, I phoned our outfitter
in Daniel’s Harbour (one hour up north), we learned that when the weather cleared, we would be
flown into camp…a day early. We were very excited about this and, after a scenic photo stop at a
lovely lighthouse,
we got to Daniel’s Harbour, met
with the outfitter, filled out the
paperwork for our hunt, got our
licenses and were transported to
Portland Creek Pond for the
flight into camp. We took off at
1:30P in a “beaver” aircraft.
We got into camp and got our
gear squared away when one of
the guides asked, “Want to do a
little hunting before dinner?” No
doubt! We were legal and we
were eager. With only about four
hours of daylight left, we grabbed
the essentials and headed out for a short hunt. Joey and I went, with our guides, about a half-mile
up behind camp and Robby went with his guide, by boat, to the end of the pond. It was a great day.
Lo and behold, about two and a half hours into the “pre-hunt”, a large bull moose came barreling
down the slope, 232 years out in front of me. My first instinct was to grab my video camcorder.
My guide, Deon, said, “No, No,…the gun!” He could see plainly that there was no time to take
any video. I grabbed my .338 magnum, found a good rest atop a big rock and stooped the bull
with one shot and a second shot put him down. Both entry holes were within 2 ½ inches of each
other. Two and a half hours into the “pre-hunt” and I was a (very happy) ex-moose hunter.
SUNDAY, 17 SEPT.
We were up by 5:30A, enjoyed a big breakfast, and the six of us were out the door by first light to
retrieve my moose. When we got back, everybody (minus me) took a nap before dinner (lunch)
and another one mid-afternoon. We had turkey, boiled potatoes, cabbage and rutabagas for supper
(dinner).
MONDAY, 18 SEPT.
I was up by 5A, made a fire in the
stove. After an egg, ham and toast
breakfast, we all headed out. My
guide and me joined Joey and his
guide, Jerry, on a trek out to Stag
Hill. We took the boat to the north
end of our pond, walked a half
hour to the shore of the next pond
and took a second boat across the
pond and through a channel and
tied up the boat. Next came the
hike up the mountain. At the top,
we surprised a lone caribou and,
soon afterwards, we split up: Joe
and Jerry off to the left and me
and Deon to the right. Shortly
after we set up, Deon said, “Isn’t
that a couple moose way over
there”? Sure enough. It was a
wildlife viewer’s dream: two
moose out in front of us and three
bears eating berries on the “knob”
next to us. We radioed Joe and his
guide. They came over after
about a half hour and we decided
to “put a stalk on the moose”. It
was over a mile to where the
moose were spotted. Of course,
when we got there they had relocated. But we had not very
long to wait. First the cow emerged and soon afterwards we
could see the tips of some real nice moose antlers coming up
out of a ravine. Joey put a real good first shot into the twelvepoint moose. His brand new .325 magnum served him well.
Two more quick follow-up shots, at 216 yards, put the moose
down.
After some photo and video opportunities, the task began of
cutting up and packing out the moose. Jerry, the head guide,
advised us that we would be taking out the antlers and half of
the meat today and that we would return tomorrow for the
remainder. The walk back, with everybody loaded down,
bulldozing their way through some heavy jungle, was fierce.
When we got back to camp, I was very disappointed to learn that the plane had come in and, in
addition to the meat from my moose, the pilot took away my antlers; thus, no photo opportunities
in the camp after all three of us get our animals. That evening, I put out the word that I would like
to have my moose rack returned to the camp. After diner (cod and mixed vegetables, with lemon
bars and molasses cookies for dessert), everybody turned in early.
TUESDAY, 19 SEPT.
By 7 am, the moose convoy was on its way – me and Joey and our two guides. It was a great, long
trek – the GPS figured that we traveled 7.4 miles (round trip) -- all the while carrying heavy packs
and covering the most daunting, challenging terrain imaginable. Along the way, Robby radioed us
to say that he had seen a “spike bull and cow” and that he “was about an hour away from camp”
and that he “might stay put or he might come in”. When we got back to camp, as the guides put
Joey’s moose meat-bags into the meat house, one of them exclaimed, “Looks like they brought
your [Wayne’s] moose meat back, instead of your antlers”. By that time, I was totally disinterested
in the situation with moose antlers and meat and so I walked ahead and went directly into the
cabin. Went I went into my bunk room, I noticed Robby’s gun. Odd! Then, when I stepped back
out into the dining area, I noticed Robby’s guide sitting there. Grinning! Then I “smelled a rat”. As
I stepped outside onto the porch, I noticed our brandy bottle on the bench outside the cabin door.
The one we use to “toast” a successful hunt. Now I was certain that Robby was pulling our leg. I
searched the parameter of the cabin and looked inside the woodshed. Nothing. I was certain that
Robby was hiding his moose success. As I made the final turn around the cabin, Jessie, our 70+year-old camp cook discretely motioned in the direction of the woodshed. Having already searched
that area, I was puzzled. Momentarily, we were called to the table just as Robby came out (from
somewhere) and sat down saying, “I shot a spiker”. I congratulated him and quickly reminded him
that “my first moose was a spiker, too” and that I had, indeed, taken two spike-bulls in
Newfoundland. As the serving dishes were being passed, Robby asked if I wanted to see a picture
of his moose on his digital camera. I said, “Of course”. When he handed me the camera and I saw
the fine, big bull that he had shot, I was overjoyed.
We all had a “snort” and enjoyed the meal all the more. Three days. Three moose. Now we were
bear hunters!
WEDNESDAY, 20 SEPT.
With all three moose tags filled, it was a very leisurely day. The boys worked on their moose racks
– cutting off extra flesh and hide and trimming the skull plate to a symmetrical shape. After lunch,
the three Wyrembelski boys took a walk up behind camp. Standing atop a high knob, a big caribou
stag walked into view. We counted twenty points on his antlers and took plenty of video and
photos.
We walked over to my moose carcass. A bear had been there. Pieces of meat were rearranged and
visible signs of carnage were evident. Quite a bit of the moose was covered over with bushes, grass
and sod. We were pumped-up after seeing this. That night dinner consisted of pork chops, wild rice
and vegetables.
THURSDAY, 21 SEPT.
Today is a full day of bear hunting. We left came on full tummies – French toast and bacon, at
6:50a. Joey and Jerry, his guide, took the boat and headed south. Far south. Robby and I took off to
hunt over my (Saturday) moose carcass [we only had two bear tags]. We crawled up in a high
location just over two hundred yards over the “bait”. Thick fog hung low over the hills. Robby
spied a couple moose about ¾ mile to the south. It rained intermittently (five minutes on, five
minutes off). To warm up, Robby and I took off cross-country in the direction of where he hit his
first moose on Monday. WE reenacted the hunt and found the place where the moose went down.
By 3:15P, we were both wet and very cold. We hiked back to camp (30min). By 5:15P, we were
ready to hunt again. Back to the top of the hill – were we sat in a strong wind until about 7:35P.For
supper, we enjoyed corned beef and boiled vegetables. For dessert, our cook, Jessie, a nice 65+year-old Newfoundlander, served a dessert called, Egg in a Nest. One game of cards and I was
asleep by 9:40P.
FRIDAY, 22 SEPT.
We were out he door and down the trail by 7:15A. It looked like a day of on-and-off showers. The
wind kicked up and blew pretty hard all day. A beautiful solid black fox (with a white tipped tail)
came into view and pranced around for a while. Around 10 am, I gave a few moose calls. In a short
time, a nine-point bull appeared. Robby began calling out to him and coaxed him in from some
300+ yards away. Little by little, Robby persuaded him to come closer and closer. Eventually, the
bull came in uncomfortable close. As I continued to film his advance, Robby racked a shell in the
chamber of his gun…just in case we had to fire a warning shot. After a short time, the moose
decided that there was no reason for him to look around for this very vocal, but invisible,
girlfriend. Robby was able to encourage him to stop and take one last look in our direction. Cold
and damp, we hiked back to camp at about 1P. We ate the sandwiches packed for us, along with
some delicious molasses buns. Some hot tea warmed us up. By 3:30P, I woke the boys and
encouraged Robby to “get ready for a bear hunt”. This time Deon, my moose guide, joined us..
We set up by about 4P. The wind howled. It rained, some sleet fell. The sun poked out it head, too.
At about 6:30P a bear appeared. I suggested that Robby and change places behind a great boulder
that was our shield and said that I would film the shot and that he should go right ahead and take
the bear with my .338 magnum (a gun Robby had never shot). Freezing hands fumbled with the
extra shell that went into the chamber of the gun. After a few more moments, Deon whispered
impatiently, fearing that we were taking too much time, “Are yous guys gonna take a shot?” Well,
as soon as the bear presented the first clean shot, Robby let loose and hit him squarely in the
shoulder. The bear took off for cover. Robby squeezed off a couple more shots, the final one hit
him in the neck and prevented any escape. Robby’s first bear and Deon’s first-ever successful bear
stalk.
We cleaned out the bear and left him for dressing in the morning. We enjoyed a good spaghetti
dinner and, after a game of Rummy 101, lights were out by 9:50P.
SATURDAY, 23 SEPT.
Everybody was up and breakfast was on the table by 5:30A. This day Joey hunted over my moose
carcass in the hope that another bear might come and dine. Jerry and I caped Robby’s bear and cut
up the meat. Joey and I remained up on the ridge and hunted together until after 7:32P. We were
“cold to the bone” and made it back to camp with no daylight to spare in order to see the pathway.
Baked chicken and rice was served for our final dinner at camp. Always a “blue” day for me.
Newfoundland is such a very special, beautiful place.
SUNDAY, 24 SEPT.
At about 4:15A, I had had enough sleep. I fired up the stove and by about 5:20A Joey was up and
the rest of the folks followed. We had our final breakfast by 7a. During breakfast, we celebrated
Robby’s 27th birthday and Jerry’s 53rd birthday. Each got an identical birthday card and we sang a
rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday”- “Sto lat”. By 8:20A, the drone of the fly beaver was heard.
We took some last minute photos,
gave our “tip envelopes” to the guides and our cook and stood by to help the three incoming
hunters unload their gear. They were “loaded for bear” – rifles, bows and shotguns. Tags for
ptarmigan, bear, caribou, and moose. Good luck! We were airborne by 8:55A. After we landed on
Portland Creek Pond, we transported our gear to the Envoy/trailer, drove to the Meat Shed,
collected our meat, left deposits for 21-28 Sept 2009, and we were on our way to the nearest gas
station – some 17 miles away. About 16.25 miles down the road, we ran out of gas. The three of us
walked to the gas station/restaurant/convenience store/information center and borrowed a gas can
(which was a cooling oil jug) and fashioned a funnel by cutting out the bottom of a discarded
plastic oil container. We drove the Envoy back to the station and filled up – at $3.48 per gallon.
The trip down to Port aux Basque was quiet and reflective. We had strong, driving rain and winds.
Upon arriving at the port city, we went to Pizza Delight to complete our celebration of Robby’s
birthday. Soon afterwards, we drove down to the ferry and boarded. Straightaway, we found our
dormitory sleepers and sacked out even before the ship left port.
MONDAY-TUESDAY, 25-26 SEPT.
Lights came on full strength at 4:30A and the LOUDspeaker informed us, in French and in
English, that we would be docking in Nova Scotia at about 5A. Driving through Nova Scotia and
New Brunswick, we noticed how the fall foliage had advanced since our inbound travels. We
stopped at a family farm roadside booth and purchased some plums and several varieties of apples.
Good and crisp! By about 6P, we were in central Quebec. After a fueling our vehicle, we decided to
begin watching the trilogy, “Lord of the Ring”…all five DVDs worth. We drew straws to
determine the order in which we would take turns driving…one turn at the wheel for each of the
five segments of the movie. Dad got 2 and 5, Robby got 3 and 4, and Joey got 1 and a “bye”. We
started the video marathon right away and finished up sometime at about daybreak (nearing
Toronto). We traveled through Canadian customs (to declare our bear meat export) and US
Customs (to declare the import of the moose) with little trouble. We stopped for fuel in Port
Huron…the first inexpensive petrol since we left (and it dropped eight cents in the two weeks we
were away). We drove directly to Clawson, dropped off the gear and luggage and took some lastminute photos of our trophies and I was on my way to Gaylord with three moose and a bear! The
moose meat went directly to Renkiewicz’s butcher shop and the antlers and bear hide went to
Northern Taxidermy.
I had been in motion from 8:55A on Sunday until 5:15P on Tuesday. A very long day!
Another great, great adventure!