Foray for Flounders

© by Albert A Rasch

“I swear that dolphin winked at me as it flipped that fish around and swallowed it!”

Well, “The Boo” and company went fishing again.

Quite frankly, I was cranky and in a bad mood. I could teach a cape buffalo a thing or two about foul temper. My hip felt like someone had driven a 24 penny spike through it, my ankle was stiff as sun dried raw hide, and carrying the cooler didn’t lighten my spirits much. It was late and I’m not a big fan of doing much of anything once I get home from work, unless it’s my idea, and even then it’s a toss up if I’m going to do it or not. But I had promised to take everyone out, and for better or worse here I was.

The Boo had brought his friend Ethan with him. We are very lucky that Bubby has great taste in friends. Ethan is a model child, well bred, good manners, well spoken, just a pleasure to have around. Even sweeps and cleans around our house while he’s waiting for whatever activity is scheduled next! He loves coming to our home; as y’all know we live on ten acres with horses, ducks, cats and dogs. There’s enough mud and dirt to keep an army of kids occupied. Paintball guns, (Which, believe it or not, I don’t really approve of.) bows and arrows, knives, sharpened sticks, rusty pieces of metal, ropes and all sorts of dangerous stuff, make it a kid’s paradise. At least the majority of the neighborhood kids think so.

Ethan lives in a spacious home in a lovely subdivision, with manicured lawns, a beautiful swimming pool with a Jacuzzi hot tub, and asphalt roads to ride his bicycle on. Even though the homes are twelve feet apart, the neighbors barely know each others; unless it’s to gossip about someone else. Oh, and I almost forgot, there was this really adorable kidnapping last year that put everyone’s nerves so on edge, that you could have snapped them with an overly loud sneeze. (Fortunately it all worked out; the kid managed to escape, and the Mexican Federales decided it was in their best interest to turn the kidnapper over to American authorities.) Its one of those neighborhoods were guns are evil – that is until you need one. Anyway, not to belabor the point, we love Ethan and he loves us.

So here we are, Mom, Dad, The Bear, Blake, and Ethan. The Bear sets up a couple of folding chairs for Mom and I, and I set the cooler between the two. Blake and Ethan start to set up the rods, while I get the bucket ready for them. After the preliminaries I sat my self down, and cracked the cooler open. Things were beginning to look up.

I am very fortunate that Cristal decided to marry me. Inside the cooler were sandwiches made with potato buns, gourmet mustard, real mayonnaise, Muenster cheese, Virginia ham, and prosciutto. A covered bowl had fresh lettuce, spinach, tomato, and avocado slices with a little bit of olive oil sprinkled on it; perfect fixings for a sandwich. Sitting in the ice was my favorite soda pop, Ironbeer, the national soda pop of pre-revolutionary Cuba. I guess things weren’t as bad as I first thought. I took a couple Tylenols and started to relax.

As I have told you before, Bubby throws a real good cast net. I can toss it a half dozen times before my shoulder starts to scream at the abuse. Blake will toss it for hours on end and complain only when I tell him to put it up. After a couple of throws, he had a couple dozen greenies in the bucket. He threw the net one more time and when he brought it up he excitedly called me over. There in his hand was a tiny little flounder! His colors were gemlike; speckles of turquoise and emerald. After a couple of pictures we ran down to the water’s edge and gently released him.

We rigged the ten pound test rigs with a half ounce egg sinker, a small bead, swivel, and a 1/0 hook. On the incoming tide this seems like the proper balance between ease of casting and holding capability. We try different methods of hooking the shiners, through the lips, dorsal front or rear, or ventral rear. Whatever seems to work best with the bite.

Ethan had the first and most exciting bite. He had tossed his greenback out and set the rod down while he ate one of the delicious sandwiches. Moments later his rod had a pretty serious bend in it. Cristal excitedly motioned to Ethan and finally blurted out, “Ethan you have a fish on!” Ethan picked up his rod and started reeling against the drag. Blake coached him immediately. “Hold your rod up! Don’t reel in against the drag! Let the rod do the work!” Who says kids don’t listen to their parents!

Blake was on the rails looking into the dark waters and excitedly called out. “He’s got a shark!” Well I figured I should mosey on down and take a look, so putting my sandwich down, I got up and made my way to the boys. A few steps later I was by their side and looking over the edge but the shark had sounded. At that moment Ethan’s line parted and he stood there, rod in hand and the line twisting in the breeze. Blake let out an, “AAaarghh...”

I thought that Ethan would be disappointed; if he was, he didn’t show it. He and Blake opened the tackle box and were re-rigging the rod.

Bubby had a rod out with a ventrally hooked greenie. After Ethan’s shark though, we had kind of lost track of it. It was the squealing drag that pulled all of our eyes to it. Ethan hollered, “Blake! Your rod!” Bubby was on it quick.

He practiced what he preached. The rod was high and he let the drag do its work. The monofilament was stretched taut and cut through the surface of the water. Before long he brought in a small flounder. Another beautiful specimen with brilliant hues of greens, browns, and blues

After that we caught a couple of lizardfish. Those are some ugly little fish. I’ll have to get you all some pics. They are all mouth, with sharp pointy teeth, and an appetite for fingers. They don’t bite hard, but they are aggressive. And they really put on a good fight for their diminutive size.

There were a few ladyfish in the mix. They’re sleek and strong, a big one will make you swear you have a jack or permit on the line. With runs like a bonefish and leaps like tarpon, they are a great sporty fish to catch. They are inedible, due to a large number of bones, but I have seen them in the market. I suppose the commercial fishermen don’t care what they pull out of the oceans as long as someone buys it. It can be pretty bad sometimes.

We had another fascinating experience at this point. Cristal had reeled in a good sized ladyfish, maybe sixteen inches long. I’m in charge of unhooking all of Mom’s fish so I grabbed it behind the pecs, and gently removed the hook. Mom gave it a good look and as we normally do, I pointed it nose down, and let it go. Mom and I were looking over the rail as the fish dropped, when out of nowhere, a large dolphin breaks the surface two or three feet from where the fish is going to hit. That ladyfish must have noticed too, because as it hit the water it thrust itself across the top of the water in a remarkable leap. It was almost too fast to follow. Somehow though, the dolphin got under it, and before we knew what happened, the ladyfish was in the dolphin’s mouth, neatly held in its toothy grin! We stared in disbelief. I turned to Cristal and said, “Did you see that!” She was as stunned as I. It was awesome. I swear that dolphin winked at me as it flipped that fish around and swallowed it!

There are usually some South East Asian families out on the pier. This evening was no exception. Invariably quiet, they mind their own business, and usually out fish everyone else. I watched them with some interest as they bucketed anything that they reeled in. From ladyfish to large grunts, they all were scaled, gutted and put in a cooler. I’m sure it all ends up in some delicious seafood dish.

As it got later the bite tapered off. We sat around and talked, or watched the skimmer birds do their thing. After a while the jaws started cracking and Mom and I decided it was time to pack up. We did everything in reverse order, and before long the three boys were sprawled over each others in the backseat, dozing off as we drove back home.

All in all it was another great evening with the family. The boys got to catch a few fish, Mom got to do what she does best, and I ended up feeling pretty good after all!

Coincidental Beekeeper

© 2009, 2010 Albert A Rasch and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles

"He grabs hold, all the while telling me to hurry up before they manage to sting us and we die of anaphylactic shock."

Quite a few of the things I have gotten myself involved with are coincidental. For instance, I’m a coincidental beekeeper.

I was sitting at the village feed store one afternoon enjoying the local gossip, when in walks a rancher looking for bee killing stuff. “Bee killing stuff?” I wonder. Probably wants wasp or yellow jacket spray. But no, its bees, and by the sound of it they’re in hives. One of the fellows recommends gasoline and a match, while another comes up with motor oil and a sprayer. Its times like these that I wonder how we survive as a race.

Now, I’ve always had an interest in beekeeping. Such diligent laborers those little creatures are. Not that I’m very diligent, but I appreciate their hard work and perseverance. After listening to the eradication plans of my less sophisticated associates, (I think they had reached the point of mixing an explosive cocktail of diesel fuel, organo-phosates, and black powder.), I volunteered to get the bees.

The rancher tells me he doesn’t know how the bees got there in the first place. He was pretty sure that they had been in the same spot for a few years. So I get directions to the location.

I found the spot with little difficulty. An area of about thirty foot wide and ten foot deep had the look of purposeful neglect. Bay trees grew in random spots, and shoulder high weeds covered the rest. Investigating more closely, I found a half dozen hives of four or five boxes each, in various states of disrepair. One bottom box had rotted so badly that the whole hive listed a good 30 degrees to the left. There were two other hives and assorted other boxes in the surrounding brush, most of them unsalvageable.


I went back home and did a lot of reading. Which in and of itself was educational but did little in preparing me. Most of the information I gathered was related to production. There was some info on moving them from one location to another; not on the actual mechanics of the process, but rather the importance of proper relocation. It is true that there’s really nothing quite like hands on experience.

I figured that night time was the very best time to get them. They would all be home and cozy. Bees have to sleep, right? What could be simpler than gently picking up the hives and putting in the back of the Blazer, then taking them home while they slept.

Of course bees don’t really sleep. By the time I had figured out that a hive weighs in excess of 150 pounds or so when loaded with bees, wax and honey, the girls had crawled all over me and proceeded to sting me at every opportunity. By the eighth or ninth barb, I had decided to retreat and regroup.

If at first you don’t succeed, make a plan. So it was time to plan the operation. The next night I came better prepared.

First on the list was blocking the entrance; a properly cut one by two took care of that. Sweatshirt, light gloves, duct tape, mosquito netting with a hat, head lantern with a red filter, and two large Rubbermaid containers to hold the hive.

The plan was to remove the top box, lay it to one side, remove the next one, put it on top of the first, and so forth until I got to the bottom one which I would then put in the Rubbermaid box. Then the rest of the boxes would go back into the Rubbermaid in proper order.

That was the plan.

I arrived at the location an hour after sunset. I geared up and went right to work. What I hadn’t noticed the previous night, was that bees frequently gather at the front of the hive, sometimes in smaller clumps, other times in much larger, depending on the temperature. This was a warmer night, and there were plenty of them hanging around the outside of the box. A couple of misplaced hands, a thump or two, and they were angrily buzzing around.

By now I was running around in circles, arms flailing in every direction. A bee landed right on my forehead. I took a quick slap at it with my left hand. Of course I forgot that I was wearing my beautiful wedding band. Damn near ¾ of an ounce of tungsten carbide clocked me a good one right between the eyes. That staggered me. I don’t know what happened to the bee though.

My wife was watching from the safety of the Blazer. She rolls the window down and hollers at me: “Honey! Baby are you all right?” I’m thinking to myself “Yeah fine, I’m lovin’ all of this!” All I manage to get out, according to her, was “I’m going to die out here! AAAaaargh!” I run for the relative safety of the car.

I finally called the fine folks at Rossman Apiaries. After explaining my situation to the nice lady that answered, she recommended I use a smoker and maybe another person to help lift the boxes. OK point taken.

Now, its not that I’m cheap, but I am frugal. Money is always tight when you’re raising kids, and the price of everything keeps on going up. That smoker would cost me $28.00 of hard earned income. I, of course had a better idea. Back in the day I was quite the cigar aficionado. I still have a couple dozen boxes of cigars in a humidor I made out of a large tool chest. (That’s another story…) So I grabbed a couple of stogies and went forth to do battle one more time.

Firing up that cigar and — (Do us both a favor. Just go up a half-dozen paragraphs, where it starts with “I arrived at the location an hour after sunset.” And you get the idea of how this plan worked out. Save me the trouble of retyping it…)

I finally broke down and ordered the smoker.

When it arrived a couple of days later, I took it to the shop, loaded it up with cedar wood chips and lit that sucker. Finally! Voluminous clouds of cool white smoke! Now I was in business.

This time I brought Jordan Bear with me. We geared up in substantially the same gear as before. But this time we had “THE SMOKER.” We decided to move the smallest of all the hives which consisted of three boxes total. We lit the smoker with a micro torch and made darned sure that the thing was well lit and smoking vigorously. We approached the hives like two Roman gladiators sizing up a known and dangerous opponent. I started puffing that smoker like a steam locomotive. Clouds of smoke wafted over the hive. The bee’s wing vibration increased noticeably from a gentle hum to an angry buzz. I looked at Bear but couldn’t make out what he looked like behind the veil. (Sweating bullets I bet.) But as we watched, every bee on the outside marched into the hive. I gave The Bear a quick rundown on what we were going to do. I pulled out my cabinet maker’s pry-bar and positioned it between the first two boxes. I gave it a sharp rap with the palm of my hand to separate the two boxes from each other. All I managed to do was to shake the hive from side to side. I tried a couple of other corners with similar results.

I gave the hive a couple of more puffs of smoke. I sent my assistant back to the car for a tire iron. A short time later he was back. By this time I had darn near suffocated the bees with smoke. Anyway we placed the pry-bar back in place and gave it a couple of good whacks with the tire iron. It took a good eight or nine blows before the boxes parted. By now the bees were getting real noisy; a few were even flying around looking for something or someone to sting. I suppose that if someone was banging on your house you would be pretty aggravated too. I puffed that smoker some more.

I tried to lift the top box off but the frames from the lower box were stuck to the frames from the upper. (The bees build comb on the frames, and the frames are what hold the wax combs and honey.) By now bees are crawling all over the hive, my arms, chest, and plenty have taken flight. I can see exactly where this is heading. I put the box back down crushing a dozen bees, and give it a violent twist to break the adhesion between the two sets of frames. All I manage to do is spin the three boxes around. Did you know that crushed bees smell like silicon spray? And did you know that the smell of crushed bees incite the others to attack something? I tell The Bear to grab the bottom boxes and brace against the next twist. He grabs hold, all the while telling me to hurry up before they manage to sting us and we die of anaphylactic shock. I gave it another twist and thankfully separate the two.

We put it in the Rubbermaid box and cover it. I take the bottom two boxes and with Bear’s help put it in the second box. There are still a few dozen bees flying around, and I hope they all found a home in another hive; I wasn’t going to hang out anymore than was absolutely necessary. We each grab one end of the tote box and carry it to the car, load it up, and go for the other.

Finally, we are at the car and congratulate each other on a fine job. I pulled my gloves off, and then the cap and veil. J Bear was doing the same. Both of us tossed them in the back and I started the car.

What didn’t occur to either of us was that bees were crawling all over our shirts, hats, gloves, and everywhere else. Of course I had the car rolling down the shell road before it happened.

In hind sight, it was obvious that we started celebrating too soon.

The Bear, his appellation not withstanding, screams like a girl. I mean pitch, intonation, all of it, as teenage girl as it can get. All I know is that he screamed, I jerked the wheel, and we were barreling off road across a pasture at 40-50 miles per hour. Now, right about this point I feel the damned bees crawling on my neck. My right foot was trying to get to the brakes; both hands were trying to get the car under control. Each hummock of grass threw us against our safety belts or slammed us into the doors. Meanwhile the bees were busy sting the snot out of us.

At some point, I don’t know when, The Bear managed to tear the belt off, open the door, and before I could react, was bailing out the door. I suppose the car wasn’t really going that fast but it felt like forever before it stopped. The Bear already had his feet out and was off to the proverbial races. I wasn’t far behind.

About an hour later, we were back on the road again, none the worse for wear, if you don’t include the five or twelve stings we got.

Once we were home, we moved the totes under a tree that would remain shady until we could get the hive reassembled.

Assembling them wasn’t that bad, as the bees were obviously disoriented by the move and allowed us great latitude to do whatever we needed to do without to much grief. That and it was daylight which made it easier to figure out what we were doing.

Believe you me, we learned quite a bit from that experience. The following moves went much more smoothly. We collected a minimum of stings, and ended up with seven hives of bees.

We have collected about two hundred pounds of honey from our hives this fall.

Epilogue:

As it so happens I was working the hives this weekend with these results:

That's right! Stung in each eyelid! That's what I got for not paying attention to the girls!



Best Regards,
Albert A Rasch
Member:Kandahar Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)
The Hunt Continues...

AirSoft: It's Not Just for Kids!Yo-Yos for Troops!Nebraska Hunting CompanyCupidFish.comScott Croner

AirSoft: It's Not Just for Kids!Yo-Yos for Troops!Nebraska Hunting CompanyCupidFish.comScott Croner

Some Blogs I Would Like to Point Out

© By Albert A Rasch

Howdy Folks!

Go see the guy who started me on the road to blogging! Before I saw his link on his posts, I didn't even know what blogging was. Todd is an accomplished amateur bladesmith and responsible for Western Civilization as we know it! See his work on: The Primitive Point

And as if that's not enough he also bakes bread: Seven Loaves. He doesn't update this one as much, which is probably good, my mouth waters at all his great baking exploits

The Suburban Bushwacker has a great Article on the current psyche in bush lore and bush blogging. Perceptive and educational, it is a must read! Check out his archives too, there's a ton of stuff there.

Here is a new one for me. I bumped into it via SBW's site: James Marchington of the Sporting Shooter ; it's a great hunting and shooting blog out of England! He actually uses ferrets to flush rabbits... I read about it in Mannix's book, A Sporting Chance, many, many, years ago. Who knew it was still in practice! And here's another custom I was unaware of; it must date to the time of the knights or something there abouts. They take long poles and beat the squirrels outta the trees!!! Then they shoot 'em. I have to get in on that. Go to his site it is really good and has a different perspective.

Regards,
Albert A Rasch
The Hunt Continues...

Boar Hunting: Rifle Calibers Part II

Big Bore Hog Calibers: Picking the Best for You!
© 2007 - 2012 By Albert A Rasch

Boar Hunting: Rifle Calibers Part II

577 Nitro Express rolls off the tongue with fluidity and grace...



My preference is towards "The Big Bores", 40 caliber and above. With these large, relatively slow moving projectiles whose diameter is already the width of expanded thirty caliber bullets, I'm assured of penetration and good wound channels. Invariably, they will completely perforate the target, giving two points of egress. The low forties are characterized by a series of cartridges that have never been popular in the US. The only choices we have readily available are the 416 Remington and the 416 Rigby. Available in relatively expensive firearms, I don't think these are common hog guns by any stretch of the imagination. Would they work? Yes, yes they would, though I would throttle them back from the 2700-2900fps to the 2000 range for my own sake. And as you will see, I have plans for a 416 hog gun.

I'm going to jump right into the 458s, the darling caliber of the professional hog hunter. I'm going to skip the 444 Marlin because I've never seen one, nor do I know anyone who has experience with it. I have heard of some people having a bit of difficulty reloading it. But I am not aware as to the details.

The 45-70 has, as we all know, been subject to a 30 year renaissance, from black powder enthusiasts reloading at moderate pressures to Ruger #1 fans stuffing them with loads treading close on the heels of the 458WM. Marlin certainly did their part introducing lever guns in a multitude of models designed to wring out the best of the 45-70. Whether the close-in Guide Gun or the long barreled Cowboy, the 45-70 has really meshed in nicely with Marlin. I have a strong desire to obtain Marlin's 1895 Cowboy version with a tang mounted vernier peep sight for long range hog sniping. The reproduction Sharps are now available in 45-90 and 45-120 also for the black powder shooters. Things that most 45-70 users have in common, healthy doses of powder and big hunks of lead out front, are what make that cartridge so effective. Again, hard cast lead bullets with big wide meplats (the flat tip on the end where the point ought to be) rule the roost here.

I use the 458WM more than anything else. Loaded with factory 510gr SPs I haven't had any difficulty dispatching anything I could hit. But the cost of shooting factory ammo for it has really stopped me from using it as much lately. Therefore I ordered dies, powder and the assorted stuff one needs to reload. I'm shooting for about 1500fps with 440gr LBT designed bullets. I expect that at 50 yards this combination should be able to penetrate a 250 pounder end for end. I would also like to try Barnes Originals in 600gr RNSP just for fun. Call me a glutton for punishment.

There are a few 50s, the 50-70, 50-100 and 50-140 plus the British Black Powder and Nitro Express. The American fifties are available in several Sharps and Remington rolling block reproductions. (Wish List Alert: Marlin, make a 95 available in the 50-100 please!) Alas, I have not had the pleasure of using any of these. At some point in time I will have a Ruger #1 rebarreled to the 500NE 3 1/4, just so I can have a handful of Churchill cigar sized shells to drop in the chamber. All of the 50s have what it takes to put down big hogs in a hurry. Bullet diameter combined with mass creates a phenomenal knockdown capability.

As you can see, given a choice I will always pick bullet weight over velocity. Since I believe that the challenge in hunting is getting close, and my circumstances, (read palmetto), are such that closeness is required, I don't feel the need for speed. My most recent hog was a 225 lbs sow taken at about 30yards. The 776 grain forster slug pulverized the lungs disappearing into the next county after punching out a fist size exit on the far side. I think the velocity is somewhere in the 1100fps range at the muzzle of the 10 bore gun. (See the post titled "Got one! The rest of the story on the HuntAmerica Hog hunting Forum 1/15/02)

If you were to ask me, what I would consider to be the perfect wild boar hunting gun, I would have to answer as follows. It would be a double rifle chambered in 500NE, and would put four shots in six inches at 100yards, two from each barrel. Its balance would be like that of a fine shotgun and its finish, in deference to the places I hunt, would be as plain as possible, oiled wood and brushed steel. The sights would be a flip front sight with a square blade and a pop-up round white bead, and on the rear, an adjustable square notched sight. If I could I would try to have some kind of peep sight that could be put on and taken off, or flipped with ease, for more deliberate shots. My ammunition could have to be handloaded 550gr WFNGC hardcast bullets at 1700-1900fps at the muzzle, basically the equivalent of the old Sharps 50-140 or the 500 Black Powder Express. Of course the rifle would have been regulated for that. Cost about 10,000 bucks.

On a more practical side, I have been toying with the idea of converting that Colombian .308 FN Mauser that I have to 416 Taylor. The 416 Taylor is essentially a 458WM necked down to 416 caliber. The ballistics are comparable to that of the classic Rigby but in a case that fits in a standard action. Using a medium barrel by Douglas, with the bore deeply recessed and no muzzle brake, the barrel length would be 21 inches, maybe an inch and a half less, for portability and maneuverability. I would use the same sights I described for the dream double. I've heard much about the Ashley sights but never having seen or used them I can't comment on them, though the theory and comments I have heard are very positive. I wonder if I could have the receiver machined to accept Ruger scope rings. Ammo would be loaded with 350- 400gr WFNGC hardcast bullets also keeping the velocity within the lower limits of 1700-1900 fps. If I feel the need for more oomph I can always crank the speed up to almost 2200fps, and a multitude of good bullets are available from Barnes and Hornady. With the bolt I would expect the accuracy to be within a three inch circle at 100 yards. Keeping the weight light, under seven and a half pounds or less if possible, for those all day foot hunts, I would likewise add a good Pachmyr Decelerator pad just in case I did decide to use some hi-speed persuasion. I would probably fit it with a bayonet lug for those close quarter situations if I didn't think my friends would think me crazier than they already do. Cost about 500 bucks, if that.

It is my belief that for true trophy hog hunting where the quarry will top 275 pounds, a thirty caliber rifle would be the minimum. From personal experience I believe that the Swift A-Frames are the best hunting bullet available, but the Failsafes are more lenient in terms of allowing more marginal shots. The construction is such that even after punching through a pinepitch and mud encrusted hide, three inches of shield and a shoulder knuckle, it still has enough mass to drill a hole, albeit a small one in my opinion, through the lungs and end up through the liver on the far side. This again is from personal experience.

In connection with this article, I posed this question to the many members of the HuntAmerica BBS, a hunting and shooting forum on the World Wide Web.

Projectile mass or velocity; what determines your choice? I received many responses:

Coug2Wolfs, known to many on the HuntAmerica Forums, put it best when he said, "Albert, big bullets make big holes, big holes kill animals real fast, that's why I use 'em. The high steppers make big holes too, sometimes even bigger than the big bores, but often they will not exit, and that makes me worry. The blood spoor is mandatory if something goes wrong and you have to track 'em down on dry ground."

Coug2Wolf, I could not agree more. In deference to the hog's heavy fat and gristle layer, which normally seal any puncture wound less than 1/2 inch in diameter, two exit wounds, preferably as big as possible, really assist in game recovery.

StubbleJumper says, "I hunt mostly wide open fields and mountains so ranges can be long. Therefore I chose cartridges based on trajectory and energy which is most affected by velocity. Using the 7mm STW with 140 gr bullets and the 300 UltraMag with 180 gr bullets have taken whitetails, mule deer, elk, moose, black bear, bighorn and pronghorn with the 7mm STW at ranges from 20 yards to 434 yards have taken elk and moose with the 300 UltraMag at ranges from 90 yards to 370 yards. Both rifles are customs built on stainless 700 actions with match grade barrels and Macmillan stocks."

StubbleJumper, I am with you on everything but the black bear. Call me over-cautious, but for me, I would prefer a big slug with big penetration. Isn't it true that there are more fatal black bear attacks than grizzly? But I do know someone who took a smallish blackie in Vermont in the early eighties with a .223 and 55gr SP. Go figure.

Frank in Montana says: "If the ranges are short to moderate then I like heavy for caliber at a moderate velocity. But if I expect long ranges I go lighter to flatten the trajectory, but still stay away from the real light weight bullets." Good balanced approach I think.

Ray in Alaska: "About your question on "velocity or bullet weight," at least in my view...All depends on the type of game and cartridge used. I feel that for moose size game within 300 yards, any bullet from 210 grains up to 300 grains out of the .338 WM or the .375 H&H will provide a "dead right now moose."

GMSemel: "I think that Hunters today bounce around to much between bullet weights rather that pick one weight and learn its path well."

I think that the marketing departments at the major purveyors are doing what the so called "range jockeys" are demanding. And it’s those same range jockeys that can't hit a six inch circle at 100 yards off the bench and wouldn't even be able to hit a drum at the same distance offhand. Again I do have my own range so I do have an advantage, but I think it is a responsibility to the game we take, to be able to shoot properly.

Mike Murphy: "I'll probably take heat for this, but if we examine why many hunters like heavy bullets (myself included) it generally is because of the greater and more reliable penetration they offer. However, with many of today's premium bullets, the heavy weight is no longer needed to get that penetration. The Fail-Safe, Barnes X, Swift A-Frame, etc., do the job without the need for heavy for caliber slugs. The comments above (In the forum discussion.-Ed) regarding penetration seem to support the idea that penetration is what many are seeking and not the "shock" value of velocity. With the new premium bullets we can gain the advantage of better trajectory AND penetration, i.e. the best of both worlds. In the end, as we all know, what really matters is bullet placement whether it's a 100Gr. .243 or a 500Gr. 45/70."

StubbleJumper responded: "Mike Murphy- You make a good point about not requiring heavy bullet weights for penetration when using premium bullets. I have been of this opinion for quite some time but there are many people out there who are living in the past and have a hard time letting go of old beliefs, so they simply will not admit that this can be true. With the lighter weight premium bullets you can have speed and flat trajectory without sacrificing penetration."

Mike and StubbleJumper make the point that I am loath to admit to, but that I have ample and supporting evidence for. And that is that any reasonable cartridge loaded with quality components, is up to the task. Assuming responsible shooting and proper bullet placement, any game can be taken.

My avowed favoritism towards the big bores is based on several things. Physics; big things hit harder. Character; it takes practice and diligence to become a competent shooter with the big bores. Linguistics; 577 Nitro Express rolls off the tongue with fluidity and grace, whereas 280 Remington doesn't. And furthermore you swat animals with a big bores; when you use the others you just shoot them.

Where's that phonebook? I wonder if Holland and Holland is taking orders...

Don't forget that there is a Part I :Boar Hunting: Rifle Calibers Part I

Regards,
Albert A Rasch
The Hunt Continues...

The Best Boar Hunting Rifle Calibers Part I

Best Hog Hunting Guns and Calibers!
© 2007-2012 Albert A Rasch™ and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles

Dear Readers,
This is one of my earliest attempts at writing an article that was more like the gun magazine ones. For a first attempt I thought it came out pretty good.

My opinions on caliber selections haven’t changed that much, but there are a few things that I’ve softened on. Five years and a couple dozen hogs later I still haven’t had that Columbian Mauser converted, but its still in the works.

Hog Guns:
Picking the right one for you.

Robert Ruark said "Use Enough Gun." Peter Capstick said, "Use enough gun, but not more than you can handle." To which I add, "Use enough gun, but not more than you can handle, and make sure you can shoot it."

When it comes to hogs, I'm going to say something that will land me in a heap of trouble with certain parties that I am affiliated with. You can take them with anything, so long as you do it right. That's correct, anything from the lowly 22 short to a 557NE. The catch is knowing where to put your shot. I suppose it's the same with all game. It all boils down to three things: Shot placement, shot placement, shot placement.

In terms of practicality though, there are upper limits to the each caliber selection. There are basically six categories; the 22s-24s, the 24s-25s, the 26s-28s, the 30-338, the 35s- 375 and the over 40 crowd. Using commercially available ammunition as our standard, the 24s and 25s should be limited to small sub 70 lbs hogs. The 26s through 28s should be kept to the 150s and lower. The thirties and 338s are good for 300lbs and less while the 35s, 40s and bigger can handle just about anything. These are arbitrary numbers of course and I'm sure that arguments to the contrary can be sighted ad-nausea, but these are recommendations based on actual hog taken by myself and others.

All the preceding is assumes that you are using good quality bullets constructed to take the kind of abuse intended for big game. Hunting pig can be as easy as picking flowers, to a worse case scenario that might degenerate into hand to hand combat where the odds are definitely not in your favor. Spending a few dollars more for premium bullets is mighty cheap insurance. Just ask Cliff McClure of McClure Farms here in Parrish Florida. He has a twenty-three stitch memento from a Thanksgiving Day hunt that went awry.

It also depends on whether you are meat hunting, trophy hunting, or actually attempting to eradicate a population, as is necessary in some cases. Today, we have factory loads in almost every caliber loaded with premium bullets. I would seriously consider 22 caliber cartridges loaded with Trophy Bonded or maybe Barnes' X-Bullets under certain conditions and for the lighter weights, but that is asking a lot from either of those bullets.

First, leave the Nosler Ballistic Tips at home. Though exceptionally effective for broadside shots at whitetails, at the close range that most hogs are shot at, they frequently disintegrate, blasting a large surface crater and frequently failing to penetrate much past the ribs. Likewise forget most if not all the hollow-pointed non-partition bullets, they just will not hold together on any moderately sized hog. The only exception might be if you are using a 24/6mm cartridge for juvenile pigs that you intend to use as small roasters. A friend who manages a large cattle spread locally, swears by a short action Savage in 223 Remington. It has a 4X12 Bushnell scope mounted on it and he uses it for predator control. He guides spring turkey hunts and is perpetually fighting a battle against raccoons, coyotes, and hog, which destroy turkey egg clutches and catch and eat the poults. Federal 55gr Nosler Ballistic Tips are his ammunition of choice. He is an exceptional shot in that he shoots almost daily and has an intuitive sense and practical knowledge of his quarry and the rifle he uses. When taking small hogs he waits for, or stalks to a position that offers a slight quartering away shot whereupon he slips that 55gr pill behind the shoulder into the heart/lung region. This just reinforces the contention that what counts is where you hit them, not how hard. As the heart/lung area of a hog is further forward than on most game, it is important to get behind the shoulder and range forward. If the opportunity presents itself he has, and I am a witness, shot them in the head. I am not a good enough shot to attempt this tricky maneuver in the field, but I have killed them with a Ruger 10/22 from a tree stand by shooting in the box between the eyes and ears. The range was very short, 12 yards or so and the pigs were still. Do I recommend this? No I do not… Unless you have a lot of practice and actual field experience.

Again, loaded with good bullets, the 24s and 25s will do yeoman's service on smaller hogs; I would not recommend them for anything larger than 100lbs, which is really a smallish pig. The mid twenties do not expand sufficiently and they do not have the mass for deep penetration. Shoulders can and do stop them. At close range they are going too fast and at longer ranges they lack in energy.

With 26s-28s we enter the classic European calibers, which range from the 6.5mm to 7mm range. Being a big fan of the Swedish 6.5X55 I will make an exception here and state that the Swedish round is adequate for any boar you might meet, with this one caveat; that you use the classic 160gr round nosed bullet at the sedate 2400fps. Weight retention and penetration are excellent with the ability to break the shoulder of any hog with relative ease. The 270Win, 7X57, 280Rem are all adequate mid sized hog hunting rounds. Coupled with Swift A-frames or Partition Golds they are efficient game getters. The 7mm magnums loaded with Winchester Failsafes get my nod for long range shooting at average sized hogs if you can get them to shoot accurately from you rifle.

The 30s-.338s are the compromise category. I think that the 308 Win is a good all round cartridge in the hands of a deliberate hunter, that is the man who knows his rifle and knows what shot to take. The 30/06 is better, and the 300 Winchester Mag is, in my opinion, the best of the 30 calibers. But I also think that the 338 Win Mag might just be the ticket for large boars at longish range. Loaded with 230gr Failsafes or 225gr Swifts the 338 offers more weight retention and penetration than any of the thirties with a trajectory to match a 30/06. The problem is that most people do not put in the time at the range to become accomplished shooters with the seemingly heavy recoiling 338. As I have my own range, I have no excuse and have become fairly recoil resistant.

The new series of UltraMags don't impress me much, whereas the short ones from Winchester, due to their far more efficient natures, do. I would like to try the new 300WSM with Failsafes or Swifts at an extended range from I really accurate rifle, and I'd really like to try a 338 and 375 WSM if that ever came about. Maybe someone will wildcat it if they haven't already! (Editors note: Been done and commercialized; at least in the 338 ie: 325 Winchester.)

Anyway, the largest hog I have taken with a rifle fell to a Weatherby 30/06 loaded with Remington's Safari Grade ammo. Remington loads the Safari Grade with 180 gr Swift A-Frames zipping along at 2700fps at the muzzle. At 75 yards the Swift drilled through 18 inches of hog, including 9 of spinal column. This close range coupled with the forward quartering angle and the fact that it ground through so much bone speaks very highly of the construction of the A-Frames. The hog went down but required a coup de grace to finish him. I would not hesitate to use that round again, for any boar, but I think there are better ways of getting there.

The 35s, rightly called medium bores, have the advantage of starting at 225gr and working their way up from there. The 358 Win and 35 Whelen are great examples. Bullet weights are 220gr and go up. Other than the 375 Winchester Big Bore and the 375 H&H, there's not much to choose from in that category. But if I was hunting those five and six hundred pound Russians in Argentina or New Hampshire I might consider a 375H&H in a Ruger 77. Launching a 300gr Swift, that should be enough to dissuade them from disemboweling me.

That covers the small and medium bores. The large bores are dissected in

Boar Hunting: Rifle Calibers Part II

Best Regards,
Albert A Rasch™
Member: Lakewood Ranch Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)

The Hunt Continues...

Though he spends most of his time writing and keeping the world safe for democracy, Albert was actually a student of biology. Really. But after a stint as a lab tech performing repetitious and mind-numbing processes that a trained capuchin monkey could do better, he never returned to the field. Rather he became a bartender. As he once said, "Hell, I was feeding mice all sorts of concoctions. At the club I did the same thing; except I got paid a lot better, and the rats where bigger." He has followed the science of QDM for many years, and fancies himself an aficionado. If you have any questions, or just want to get more information, reach him via TheRaschOutdoorChronicles(at)MSN(dot)com.