Bow fishing.....Dreamrider style
May 17, 2020 18:40:37 GMT -5
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Post by p on May 17, 2020 18:40:37 GMT -5
Bow Fishing in New Zealand
I was first introduced to bow fishing quite late in my bow hunting career. When ten years ago my son Bruce and Wayne, a very close Moari hunting friend, asked me if I would I like to go on a bow fishing trip with them to the far north to shoot Mullet. I remember clearly saying “What the hell would I want to go BOW FISHING for, I have been a commercial fisherman all my life. I see enough of fish every day without wasting my time hunting them with a bow and arrow”.
Suitably chastised Bruce and Wayne proceeded to go without me. Something I will always regret as when they returned, I started to turn green with envy after hearing what a great time they had, and all the Mullet that had been shot. I vowed to go with them next time
A few months later found all three of us at a beautiful harbor in the far north, with its crystal-clear water and brilliant white sand. As I was the green horn Wayne took me under his wing and helped set me up. Apparently once we got into a likely area, we were to find a large Mangrove tree each, then set up a shooting platform that was made up from any drift wood that we could scrounge in the vicinity. After we were set up to our individual satisfaction, we would wait for the tide to come in bringing with it, we hoped, the Mullet.
These silvery grey fish are magicians at appearing without any warning of their silent approach, then simply disappearing right in front of our eyes, then appearing again, usually out of range. It was of course their coloring. Although the water was crystal clear their ability to blend in was very challenging to say the least. They would come in with the tide to feed in the shallows amongst the Mangrove roots, initially travelling at a fairly smart pace making for some really fast shooting. As it got near high tide they would slow down and lazily swim around becoming easier targets.
Grey ghosts
Did I just say easier targets? Perish the thought, these things were so frustrating. Firstly, we had to estimate the depth they were in, and then work out the refraction of the water. The deeper they were, the greater the refraction. Some times they would come chugging past just below the surface creating a slight bow wave. These were the easiest as I would place the pin approx 2-4 inches under and lead them by 2-3 inches depending on the speed that they were cruising at. The harder ones were those that run 2-3 feet deep I would aim about 6-8 inches under them, and even then, would often go over the top.
I remember on one occasion; I saw a large red Snapper mooching around on the bottom under my stand. He was a beauty and no one had ever shot a monster like that in New Zealand with a bow. I took careful aim telling myself to aim low about 12inches, then even lower again, only to see the arrow go harmlessly over the top. On reflection I had not realized how far the tide had risen making it a lot deeper than I had realized. To rub salt into a very sore wound, 30 minutes later Bruce shot him under his stand. We had to listen to his crowing for days after that.
On a good day we would have literally hundreds of Mullet coming past, making for some great sport, and we were often exhausted by the time the tide receded taking the remainder of the mullet with it. These things were so challenging that we regarded 1 hit in every 6-8 shots good shooting. This did not in any way reflect on our shooting ability, as Wayne and I had three national bow hunting titles to our names, and Bruce was the national Longbow champ for 5 consecutive years. So, we knew how to shoot. The sheer challenge of trying to outwit these wonderful creatures keep us going back year after year, plus they are great to eat.
Mullet wasn’t the only fish that was on offer. Stingrays were often cruising around the mangroves, some up to 4ft-6ft from wing tip to wing tip. Woe betide anyone stupid enough to take a pot shot at these monsters
On one occasion while wading out to our stands Wayne crept up to a smaller one measuring three ft across. The temptation proved too much for him and could not resist a shot, the shot was true and then all hell broke loose, amidst a great eruption of foam and water, that stingray was out of there. The 200lb line screamed out of the Muzzy retriever and suddenly came to a stop. Unprepared Wayne found himself being unceremoniously towed towards deeper water at an alarmingly faster rate. His efforts to stop the stingray proved futile, and he started screaming at me to help. Even now I feel guilty when I say that I was laughing way too much at the incredible sight of Wayne almost at the point of bare foot skiing, I was doubled up and gasping for air to be of any use.
Just as Wayne got to the point of having to let his bow go or be towed out to deep water, the arrow pulled out with a suddenness that had him flat on his back in waist deep water. Wayne scrambled to his feet with water cascading off him and his bow, and proceeded to berate me with a form of language that my tender, innocent ears had not heard before. This only increased my laughter to the point that I was completely helpless, and fell over in the waist high water and came up looking like a drowned rat. That incident, still to this day has us helpless when ever we get together over a beer.
The Stingrays however had not finished with my Moari mate. One day I had found a great spot with mullet pouring past my Mangrove tree. On the other hand Wayne, who had set his stand some distance away was having no luck at all, Now it must be understood that Wayne and I are probably the most competitive couple of mates that you would ever find, and it got too much for him listening to my non stop action, and of course the very modest commentary that went with it.
He finally couldn’t stand it any longer, and climbed out of his tree stand. With the water up around his armpits edged closer and closer, eventually finding a small Mangrove tree only 10yards away from me. Ignoring the jeering comments about his inability to find his own fish and needing to be wet nursed; Wayne wasted no time climbing into the pathetic excuse for a Mangrove, and promptly joined the fast action, claiming several in just a few minutes. However, the tree that he had hastily chosen was so small and frail, that his bare feet were still deep in the water. After a few minutes of success, he happened to glance down only to see a huge Stingray the size of an aircraft carrier, (Wayne’s description), had glided in from his blind side and was about to suck his bare toes into its cavernous mouth. Apparently, it had been attracted by the dead mullet on his string at the base of his tree. Wayne let out a scream and shot straight up the fragile Mangrove. I looked over just in time to witness him trying unsuccessfully to hold onto the top few twigs, and watched in fascination as he performed a very undignified backward swan dive into the water. The Stingray thoroughly alarmed took off at speed with a huge bow wave in front of it, and Wayne taking off in the opposite direction with an even greater bow wave. This has been the only time I have ever seen anyone try to walk on water. I don’t know who got the biggest fright, Wayne or the Stingray, anyway it’s the first time I have ever seen a pure white Moari. When ever I maliciously remind him about it over a beer, he gives a sickly grin and promptly changes the subject.
Over the years we changed our style of hunting to suit the conditions. Sometimes wading up to our nuts in water with a string trailing behind us for threading the fish onto. Sometimes (my favorite) we climbed onto a mangrove tree, this gave us a little more height, giving us a better view and lessened the refraction. We also used a dinghy for the harder to get at places, this was great fun but it was hard to position the dinghy in a mangrove tree, to lesson the profile and deaden the noise. Mullet had excellent eye sight and hearing
Wayne in a “tree stand” festooned with mullet
By this time, I was hooked on bow fishing, which eventually lead us to Carp shooting in the fresh water rivers that supplies the hydro dams. These Carp grow to huge proportions, and are a lot of fun to shoot. Their bright red coloring makes them easy prey and we shoot them in their hundreds, (they are classed as an introduced obnoxious species and there is no limit on them). We would hunt them either from a boat or when the flats were under water, wading around in 18-24 inches of water. On one occasion Wayne and I came upon some flood plains with thigh deep water, and as far as we could see the water was full of spawning carp. We decided to get out of the boat and wade quietly through their midst.
The shooting was at a frenetic pace until I shot a particularly big one which took off, then running out of line it circled around and shot between my legs. Before I could extricate myself from the line, it swam around my legs twice more. Upending me into the spawn filled water. This was Wayne’s turn to have a laugh my expense. Totally unnecessary I felt, after all my daddy had always told me it is rude to laugh at some one else’s misfortune. After giving him some well-meaning advice about his dubious heritage, I stormed off looking for a quieter place to hunt.
But Wayne got another laugh at my expense when we returned to the vehicle later in the day. I tried getting out of my wet sticky camo, but it had stuck to my underwear. After a frantic struggle, and doing some spectacular aerial acrobatics which had the unsympathetic Wayne in hysterics again. I finally extricated myself from the offending garments. Those pants and jacket were so stiff from Carp spawn, they had to be put into the back of the car standing up as they would not bend.
It was one of those memorable days that will stay with me forever.
There is nothing better than sharing a wonderful hunting experience with great friends, and bow fishing is right up there with the best. If you get the opportunity give it a go, I am sure that you will love it.
The equipment that I use is an old Hoyt bow with a long A-A. Wayne used an old McPherson; both set on 55lb. Bruce used a 60lb long bow. We all shot bare fingered with a Muzzy retriever and 200lb line. This allowed us fast shooting and fast retrieval of the Muzzy fiber glass arrow. We always had a spare arrow taped to the riser and an 8ft length of cord with a sacking needle on one end to thread the fish onto, particularly while wading through the shallows.
I also use a cheap single pin sight, while Bruce and Wayne shot purely instinctive as they always did,
Ray Scott (Dream Rider)
New Zealand
Foot note, When Lanny came over to hunt a big Red Stag trophy, I took him out for a Carp shoot on a local river. It was easy walking along the river bank and taking pot shots at Carp. By the end of the day the score was Carp 20, Lanny 0. That’s right ……………Lanny 0.
Missed it by THAT much.....again
I suppose I should come to his defense and tell you he had to use my bow with its shorter draw length that he was unused to. Plus he had never bow fished before and was not used to the refraction. But oh man I had to fight myself real hard not to rip the bow out of his hands before it learnt bad habits from him.
Ray shows Lanny how to do it
Written by Dreamrider
I was first introduced to bow fishing quite late in my bow hunting career. When ten years ago my son Bruce and Wayne, a very close Moari hunting friend, asked me if I would I like to go on a bow fishing trip with them to the far north to shoot Mullet. I remember clearly saying “What the hell would I want to go BOW FISHING for, I have been a commercial fisherman all my life. I see enough of fish every day without wasting my time hunting them with a bow and arrow”.
Suitably chastised Bruce and Wayne proceeded to go without me. Something I will always regret as when they returned, I started to turn green with envy after hearing what a great time they had, and all the Mullet that had been shot. I vowed to go with them next time
A few months later found all three of us at a beautiful harbor in the far north, with its crystal-clear water and brilliant white sand. As I was the green horn Wayne took me under his wing and helped set me up. Apparently once we got into a likely area, we were to find a large Mangrove tree each, then set up a shooting platform that was made up from any drift wood that we could scrounge in the vicinity. After we were set up to our individual satisfaction, we would wait for the tide to come in bringing with it, we hoped, the Mullet.
These silvery grey fish are magicians at appearing without any warning of their silent approach, then simply disappearing right in front of our eyes, then appearing again, usually out of range. It was of course their coloring. Although the water was crystal clear their ability to blend in was very challenging to say the least. They would come in with the tide to feed in the shallows amongst the Mangrove roots, initially travelling at a fairly smart pace making for some really fast shooting. As it got near high tide they would slow down and lazily swim around becoming easier targets.
Grey ghosts
Did I just say easier targets? Perish the thought, these things were so frustrating. Firstly, we had to estimate the depth they were in, and then work out the refraction of the water. The deeper they were, the greater the refraction. Some times they would come chugging past just below the surface creating a slight bow wave. These were the easiest as I would place the pin approx 2-4 inches under and lead them by 2-3 inches depending on the speed that they were cruising at. The harder ones were those that run 2-3 feet deep I would aim about 6-8 inches under them, and even then, would often go over the top.
I remember on one occasion; I saw a large red Snapper mooching around on the bottom under my stand. He was a beauty and no one had ever shot a monster like that in New Zealand with a bow. I took careful aim telling myself to aim low about 12inches, then even lower again, only to see the arrow go harmlessly over the top. On reflection I had not realized how far the tide had risen making it a lot deeper than I had realized. To rub salt into a very sore wound, 30 minutes later Bruce shot him under his stand. We had to listen to his crowing for days after that.
On a good day we would have literally hundreds of Mullet coming past, making for some great sport, and we were often exhausted by the time the tide receded taking the remainder of the mullet with it. These things were so challenging that we regarded 1 hit in every 6-8 shots good shooting. This did not in any way reflect on our shooting ability, as Wayne and I had three national bow hunting titles to our names, and Bruce was the national Longbow champ for 5 consecutive years. So, we knew how to shoot. The sheer challenge of trying to outwit these wonderful creatures keep us going back year after year, plus they are great to eat.
Mullet wasn’t the only fish that was on offer. Stingrays were often cruising around the mangroves, some up to 4ft-6ft from wing tip to wing tip. Woe betide anyone stupid enough to take a pot shot at these monsters
On one occasion while wading out to our stands Wayne crept up to a smaller one measuring three ft across. The temptation proved too much for him and could not resist a shot, the shot was true and then all hell broke loose, amidst a great eruption of foam and water, that stingray was out of there. The 200lb line screamed out of the Muzzy retriever and suddenly came to a stop. Unprepared Wayne found himself being unceremoniously towed towards deeper water at an alarmingly faster rate. His efforts to stop the stingray proved futile, and he started screaming at me to help. Even now I feel guilty when I say that I was laughing way too much at the incredible sight of Wayne almost at the point of bare foot skiing, I was doubled up and gasping for air to be of any use.
Just as Wayne got to the point of having to let his bow go or be towed out to deep water, the arrow pulled out with a suddenness that had him flat on his back in waist deep water. Wayne scrambled to his feet with water cascading off him and his bow, and proceeded to berate me with a form of language that my tender, innocent ears had not heard before. This only increased my laughter to the point that I was completely helpless, and fell over in the waist high water and came up looking like a drowned rat. That incident, still to this day has us helpless when ever we get together over a beer.
The Stingrays however had not finished with my Moari mate. One day I had found a great spot with mullet pouring past my Mangrove tree. On the other hand Wayne, who had set his stand some distance away was having no luck at all, Now it must be understood that Wayne and I are probably the most competitive couple of mates that you would ever find, and it got too much for him listening to my non stop action, and of course the very modest commentary that went with it.
He finally couldn’t stand it any longer, and climbed out of his tree stand. With the water up around his armpits edged closer and closer, eventually finding a small Mangrove tree only 10yards away from me. Ignoring the jeering comments about his inability to find his own fish and needing to be wet nursed; Wayne wasted no time climbing into the pathetic excuse for a Mangrove, and promptly joined the fast action, claiming several in just a few minutes. However, the tree that he had hastily chosen was so small and frail, that his bare feet were still deep in the water. After a few minutes of success, he happened to glance down only to see a huge Stingray the size of an aircraft carrier, (Wayne’s description), had glided in from his blind side and was about to suck his bare toes into its cavernous mouth. Apparently, it had been attracted by the dead mullet on his string at the base of his tree. Wayne let out a scream and shot straight up the fragile Mangrove. I looked over just in time to witness him trying unsuccessfully to hold onto the top few twigs, and watched in fascination as he performed a very undignified backward swan dive into the water. The Stingray thoroughly alarmed took off at speed with a huge bow wave in front of it, and Wayne taking off in the opposite direction with an even greater bow wave. This has been the only time I have ever seen anyone try to walk on water. I don’t know who got the biggest fright, Wayne or the Stingray, anyway it’s the first time I have ever seen a pure white Moari. When ever I maliciously remind him about it over a beer, he gives a sickly grin and promptly changes the subject.
Over the years we changed our style of hunting to suit the conditions. Sometimes wading up to our nuts in water with a string trailing behind us for threading the fish onto. Sometimes (my favorite) we climbed onto a mangrove tree, this gave us a little more height, giving us a better view and lessened the refraction. We also used a dinghy for the harder to get at places, this was great fun but it was hard to position the dinghy in a mangrove tree, to lesson the profile and deaden the noise. Mullet had excellent eye sight and hearing
Wayne in a “tree stand” festooned with mullet
By this time, I was hooked on bow fishing, which eventually lead us to Carp shooting in the fresh water rivers that supplies the hydro dams. These Carp grow to huge proportions, and are a lot of fun to shoot. Their bright red coloring makes them easy prey and we shoot them in their hundreds, (they are classed as an introduced obnoxious species and there is no limit on them). We would hunt them either from a boat or when the flats were under water, wading around in 18-24 inches of water. On one occasion Wayne and I came upon some flood plains with thigh deep water, and as far as we could see the water was full of spawning carp. We decided to get out of the boat and wade quietly through their midst.
The shooting was at a frenetic pace until I shot a particularly big one which took off, then running out of line it circled around and shot between my legs. Before I could extricate myself from the line, it swam around my legs twice more. Upending me into the spawn filled water. This was Wayne’s turn to have a laugh my expense. Totally unnecessary I felt, after all my daddy had always told me it is rude to laugh at some one else’s misfortune. After giving him some well-meaning advice about his dubious heritage, I stormed off looking for a quieter place to hunt.
But Wayne got another laugh at my expense when we returned to the vehicle later in the day. I tried getting out of my wet sticky camo, but it had stuck to my underwear. After a frantic struggle, and doing some spectacular aerial acrobatics which had the unsympathetic Wayne in hysterics again. I finally extricated myself from the offending garments. Those pants and jacket were so stiff from Carp spawn, they had to be put into the back of the car standing up as they would not bend.
It was one of those memorable days that will stay with me forever.
There is nothing better than sharing a wonderful hunting experience with great friends, and bow fishing is right up there with the best. If you get the opportunity give it a go, I am sure that you will love it.
The equipment that I use is an old Hoyt bow with a long A-A. Wayne used an old McPherson; both set on 55lb. Bruce used a 60lb long bow. We all shot bare fingered with a Muzzy retriever and 200lb line. This allowed us fast shooting and fast retrieval of the Muzzy fiber glass arrow. We always had a spare arrow taped to the riser and an 8ft length of cord with a sacking needle on one end to thread the fish onto, particularly while wading through the shallows.
I also use a cheap single pin sight, while Bruce and Wayne shot purely instinctive as they always did,
Ray Scott (Dream Rider)
New Zealand
Foot note, When Lanny came over to hunt a big Red Stag trophy, I took him out for a Carp shoot on a local river. It was easy walking along the river bank and taking pot shots at Carp. By the end of the day the score was Carp 20, Lanny 0. That’s right ……………Lanny 0.
Missed it by THAT much.....again
I suppose I should come to his defense and tell you he had to use my bow with its shorter draw length that he was unused to. Plus he had never bow fished before and was not used to the refraction. But oh man I had to fight myself real hard not to rip the bow out of his hands before it learnt bad habits from him.
Ray shows Lanny how to do it
Written by Dreamrider
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