Hunting as a team
February 13th, 2008, 2:21 am Hobbies News
I meet59-year-old Jeff Carter, one of the most experienced southern hunters in the game.
Carters weather beaten face tells the story of a man whose life has been spent outdoors.
Not surprisingly its here he says he wants to die, among the unspoilt natural wilderness of New Zealands largest national park.
%26quot;I love the mountains. I love the deer.%26quot; %26quot;Theres something that grabs me, I just love it that much,%26quot; he says.
Its here Carter and helicopter pilot Dick Deaker have forged a 36-year career out of scouring the rugged mountain ranges of the Fiordland National Park in pursuit of wild deer.
Their uncanny ability to spot and shoot deer all the while manoeuvering through sometimes treacherous and tricky terrain, makes for a formidable team.
They are survivors in the truest sense of the word.
Through bulldogging, live capture, and helicopter shooting they have prospered where others havent.
Deaker got his start behind the controls of a chopper under the guidance of Sir Tim Wallis company Alpine Helicopters during the venison recovery years of the 60s.
The industry ended the unchecked growth of the animal which had multipled since being introduced by European settlers in the 1800s.
Deer shooting is a good lifestyle, but the outdoors can be a horrible place to be too, Deaker explains.
Hes lost friends here %26mdash; 11 pilots and 16 crewmen have died in Fiordland in the past 20 years, and hes had a few close calls himself .
While many of their deaths have been the result of human error, all of them serve as a haunting reminder of the perils of flying, even for the most experienced of helicopter pilots.
The landscape, while beautiful can be just as unforgiving.
%26quot;If Im going out and the weathers no good, we just go home again,%26quot; Deaker says.
%26quot;Tomorrows another day. You dont have to work all day and all night and take risks,%26quot; he said.
Carter recalls an incident where Deaker was forced to ditch his helicopter after an engine failure in the Seaforth Valley.
%26quot;The warning horn came on in the half dark and all I could see was this flash of light — I knew then it was going to be a bad day,%26quot; he says.
Skill, determination, experience, guts and a bit of luck count for a lot in this industry.
Carter uses the analogy of a top level sportsman to draw a comparison.
%26quot;Youre like an All Black, youre only as good as your last game,%26quot; he says.
During one of their last shoots the men sent 40 deer to a venison plant in Mid-Canterbury %26mdash; today they are looking to add to that tally.
So far so good.
Its just after 10am and Carter returns to base with a trailerload of deer carcasses from a shoot at the head of the Upukeroa earlier that morning.
His bloodied hands reveal one of the more grizzly aspects of his job %26mdash; gutting his victims.
Carter lines up his AK47 as property owner Peter Charteris gives Deaker a steer about where to go in a young tree block sprawling 8900ha Te Anau Downs property.
After half an hour of fruitless searching for wild deer about 60m above the ground, including several stomach churning moments, the men decide to call it a day.
Carter explains later that at this time of the day you are lucky to see anything, and that I neednt worry, apparently its normal for novices like myself to experience motion sickness.
Earlier in the day and later in the evening is the best time for shooting, when the deer are feeding, Carter says.
Deaker adds that during a shot, the hunter should always aim to be an extension of the pilots eyes.
Its this understanding between the pair that has seen them succeed through both the boom and bust years.
Early this century the venison export industry faltered after a rash of deer poaching in the central North Island, leading to a ban on exports.
The ban was prompted by food safety concerns over 1080 poison contamination in areas where poaching was taking place.
%26quot;The whole thing was shut down for four or five years,%26quot; Deaker said.
It was then that Deaker spent time flying in Bolivia, Peru and Mexico and Carter did a stint in Alaska catching moose, wolves and caribou and the Gallipolis Islands catching goats and wild donkeys.
Back home and they say they are just content to make the most of their twilight years doing a job they love.
%26quot;Its like a drug,%26quot; Carter says.
%26quot;When you do it, when you are out there, youd know why.%26quot;
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