Our camp was nestled under a massive fig tree somewhere on a a sandbar in a river in Limpopo, South Africa. Where exactly? I really can’t remember as I was only 6 years old. The morning was cold and a cup of coffee brewed on the still hot coals of the night before came as a god sent. There is something special about a sunrise in Africa, I think it still has something to do with why I am happy to call myself a morning person to this day.

Today is the day I am going hunting for the first time. My dad has made me comfortable enough with his self built .303 and he felt that I was ready. At first light we started walking from camp, I remember my nose and ears burning from the cold. Luckily there was enough sounds to keep me distracted and ready. It was difficult to carry the .303 while trying to keep my hands warm and at the same time keep my nose from running. Guineafowl chirping, impala barking in peak rut, even the grey Loerie’s watching our every move. With the sun just peeking through the acacia trees. The stage was set.

Not long into our walk we saw some impala. The instant spark of adrenaline made my heart skip a beat. Almost out of breath, this was so damn exciting. We took to our hands and knees and crawled for what felt like forever but in actual fact only about 30 yards. Constantly checking the wind, and also giving me a break to remove the thorns from my knees. Pausing, we were spotted once again by the damn Grey Loeries that love’s to announce a sighting, I hate those birds.

Finally we made it to within a comfortable range. Still on our hands and knees. We were now only about 80 yards away and it was go time. My dad in his calming voice gave me the go ahead. Our only option for a aim support was if My dad stood on his hands and knees and I would take aim over his back. It was a perfect rest. Finally I got a clear shot and I squeezed, and squeezed and squeezed. That damn .303 had the longest trigger. So I squeezed a little until BOOM. Straight away my dad dropped to the ground holding his leg as if I shot him. I freaked out, until I realized It was only a cramp from holding position for such a long time. I knew I had hit the impala well, obviously, my dad taught me well. It wasn’t a long tracking job and I was kneeling next to my first ever animal. Mixed emotions, as I still get to this day. I was absolutely addicted to what had just went down for the past 45 minutes.

24 years later and many more successful hunts behind me in various parts of the world I am still fascinated about hu ting. So much so that I now prefer hunting with a camera in hand. For me to be able to capture all these fine memories for everyone to relive is my ultimate goal. It’s the finer details that I really strive to capture. It’s the emotion, it’s those moments that leave you covered in goose bumps. Thats my goal. I started this production company in 2021 and I feel like i’m in a time of my life now where I can commit a lot more time and effort in pursuing this career I have been so fond of my entire life. If you enjoy hunting and the story behind a trophy as much as I do, reach out and I will capture your story for generations to come.