Preparation Makes Perfect. Almost. Tagging out on Snake Island.
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My Snake Island adventure started 15,000 kilometres away and four months before even stepping foot on the island for the hunt. I was traveling overseas when I woke up to a dream email in my inbox; I had been drawn in the ballot to hunt hog deer on Snake Island. That single sentence set off a chain of events that consumed most of my free time and mental energy up until the hunt. I had heard stories of folks waiting over 20 years to be selected, so I had not even considered it as a remote possibility. Yet, here I was, four months away from what could be my only chance at hunting in the ballot. So much to do, so little time!
Step 1: I need to get onto that island and scout. Are there any good spots for tree stands? What kind of vegetation is there? Where is there sign of deer habitat? I had countless questions that only would get answered by putting some boot tracks down on the island.
Step 2: How am I going to get there? I found a local charter company that provided shuttle services. However, I wanted to go there numerous times before the hunt and run on my own schedule. Plus, there was a fee that would add up with all my trips. I decided to buy a boat instead. After installing lights, a battery system, and new safety gear, I’m not sure I won the cost trade-off on that one!
‘Preparation is the key to success’ is the underlying motto to my hunting strategy. There’s always a bit of luck involved, but putting yourself in a position to succeed will increase the odds of those lucky moments falling into your lap. Three scouting trips to the island provided me with hundreds of trail cam pictures, numerous hunting spots and, most importantly, experience with getting on and off the island. The tides, currents and weather conditions around Welshpool can be treacherous and extreme. More on that later.
Finally, my ballot period had arrived. I head out to the island a day early to set up camp and check trail cams one last time. After the briefing with the GMA on Sunday morning, I bring the remainder of my gear out. Taking two trips made for a much easier hike, as the deep sand on the shore and tracks can be gruelling to traverse.
I sit at my camp Monday morning staring at my watch, urging it to move faster. Hunting doesn’t start till 8.00am the first day. After the hour hand finally strikes the magic number, I slowly sneak into my hunting area near a waterhole. I’m not in much of a rush, as I know from trail cam intel that deer move from 10.00am to 2.00pm in that area. I settle into my tree stand and mentally prepare for a long day. Having primarily hunted North American whitetail deer for most of my life, hunting hog deer from an elevated position was right up my alley.
I look over my shoulder at 10.00am and, just like clockwork, a stag has arrived. I immediately recognise him from trail cam pics, as his left antler is slightly longer. He’s at the edge of the waterhole, just 20m away. I’m seated and he’s on my weak side, so I’m in an awkward position. Due to his proximity, I can’t stand up and turn without spooking him. I slowly pick up the rifle and rotate it into a position to take a left-handed shot. He hasn’t become aware of my presence and, within 30 seconds of first laying eyes on him, I squeeze the trigger and send a round through his right lung and liver. He makes it about five yards before expiring. I can’t believe it. After four months of preparation, I’ve punched my stag tag two hours into the hunt!
He’s a beautiful specimen, with antlers measuring 12 and 14 inches and weighing 27kg dressed. He has a smaller body compared to mainland hog deer but, at 4.5 years old, he’s representative for the island.
The forecast had the mercury topping out at 28 C, so my celebrations would have to wait. The GMA check-in station on the mainland closes at 4.00pm and with a storm rolling in Tuesday night, if I didn’t make the check-in Monday, I would likely not be able to get safely back to the island in my 12 foot boat until Thursday morning. The race against the clock begins!
I cart the deer back to my boat to find an unwelcome sight. The tide is still out. I can see cattlemen in the distance crossing on horseback. Not a great omen for me the prospects of me getting off the island. I spend the next two hours dragging my boat across sandbars, avoiding countless stingrays coming in with the tide. I finally make it to the main channel but the wind has picked up and the water in the channel is rough. I turn towards calmer water and come down off the crest of a wave right into a sandbar! The poor Mercury outboard reluctantly fires up again and wills me to the boat landing. I’m 40 minutes late but luckily the GMA officer has kindly waited.
For many hunters, that’s where the Snake Island adventure ends. I never had any intention of that being the case. I still have a hind tag and 3.5 days left. I’m fortunate to have a friend with a place right in Port Welshpool, so I’m able to quarter the stag and get the meat in a refrigerator. I’d wrapped that up by midnight, then I was up at 5.00am the next day to catch the high tide back to the island.
I’m back in the stand by 9.00am. Just an hour later, I spot a hind 50m out. The temperature is going to be in the high 20s again and with the storm rolling in, I’m not confident I’ll be able to get off the island in time to preserve the meat. I decide to pass on the shot. After a quiet rest of the day, I head back to camp and enjoy the heart and loins from the stag for dinner under the cover of a couple gum trees.
The temperature drops to just above 5 C overnight, which is welcome after a couple of hot days. It’s windy all day Wednesday and I don’t see any deer. It’s calm again Thursday, and I spot a nice stag and spiker in the morning. Just after noon, a hind appears from the tea tree at 50m. I’m able to turn in my stand this time and anchor myself against the tree. I have more time to think about this shot and get worse shakes than when I saw the stag! I take a couple of breaths, gain my composure, and take a shot at the quartering to hind. She turns and darts into the brush. I hear a crash a few seconds later. After 30 minutes, I climb down and find she hasn’t gone far. I’ve successfully filled both tags! The temperature is mild and the high tide isn’t until after dark, so I sit down and take some time to enjoy the moment.
My work isn’t over. I still need to get safely off the island to check in the deer and get the meat into the fridge. I pack up camp and cart all of my gear and deer back to my boat. As I get to the shore, I let out a sigh of relief; my boat is still there! It’s beached on the low tide in roughly the same spot I anchored it. I walk out to the boat to find that I’m in a bit of trouble – the boat is full of water. Did it take on water during the storm? Could I have anchored it differently? At this point, that doesn’t really matter. The battery is wrecked so I won’t be making it off in the dark. With the sun setting, I quickly assess the damage to the motor. I remove the carby and drain the water from it, remove the spark plugs and turn it over by hand to confirm there no water is in the head. I decide to set up camp and try to start the motor in the morning.
As the high tide is coming in just after dusk, I see a couple lights headed my way. I get my last stroke of luck for the trip; it’s a local fisherman, taking advantage of a rare calm night to look for flounder. He offers to tow me in, so I pack up camp and get the boat loaded up. His boat only has a 4hp motor so it takes a while, but the two-hour tow back to the mainland under the glow of the moon allows me to reflect on the hunt. What an incredible experience!
Special thanks to the Blond Bay Hog Deer Advisory Group for making the Snake Island hunt possible. An eight per cent ballot chance turned into an adventure I’ll never forget!
“I look over my shoulder at 10.00am and, just like clockwork, a stag has arrived.”