The Hunting Bond

Story by Andrew La Vista

It was some 15 years ago, when I was around five years old, that I accompanied my father on my first hunting trip on my grandfather's farm, located in the Upper South-East of South Australia. It is no accident that most of my earliest memories are those of hunting with my father and grandfather and this is no doubt the same for many hunters around Australia and indeed the world. These moments would be those that began my enthusiasm for hunting and strengthen the sacred bonds between father and son, between grandfather and grandson.

As a child growing up in South Australia's capital city of Adelaide, hunting trips were always confined to the school vacations and many hours were spent scouring various hunting magazines in preparation for the coming hunt. As a five-year-old schoolboy, no excitement in anticipation of any event could ever match that of going to the farm over vacation. In the days before, much conversation would occur between my father and me as to which firearms we were taking and I made many plans with my mum in regards to what food we chose to take. When the day finally came, every minute of it became part of the adventure—from waking up super-early to helping carry the gear and loading up the car.

When we would set out for a hunt, it was always my job to carry Dad's 25-round shotgun belt with his hunting knife attached. I was also in charge of carrying any shot game we obtained throughout the hunt. I thought this was a fantastic job and I felt that I was an important part of the hunt, rather than just tagging along.

One of the most memorable hunts of my childhood was a quail hunt with my father, grandfather and older brother on a neighboring property. It was the first time I had seen quail and the hunting was highly successful, seeing us bagging out very quickly. I recall watching in awe as Dad worked his Winchester pump-action shotgun. He hunted the quail with an 18-inch barrel and open choke. Upon arriving back at the farm, I was shown how to pluck and dress the shot quail and how to use a small flame to rid the bird of tiny, unplucked feathers. Later on, of course, came the best job of all—enjoying the quail at the dinner table!

Growing up as a young hunter, I consider hunting with my father's or grandfather's firearms a great honor. Most of my hunting to date has been with Dad's trusty Beretta S55 and I have used my grandfather's old Italian side-by-side hammer gun on occasion. One of the most recent hunts saw me carrying Dad's Beretta and Dad carrying his father's old Brno Model 5 .22. Although that particular hunt didn't eventuate in any game, it was still a fantastic experience and you could feel the history behind those guns. I have learned that patience and perseverance plays a large role in hunting. Even though some hunts are unsuccessful, in that, you might not get a chance at the game, I have enjoyed them all to a great extent—that's why we do it!

It was only seven years ago, at the age of 13, that I began my journey as a hunter. Camping out near a local rabbit warren in a self-constructed hunting blind, I took my first rabbit with my mother's Savage Arms .410 shotgun—to say I was happy would be the understatement of the century.

Although I had successfully bagged my first coniglio—the Italian word for rabbit, as used by my grandfather—I still had a lot to learn about hunting techniques. This remains the same today and I am always asking older, more experienced hunters for pointers in this area.

Several years ago, in the July school holidays, I was fortunate enough to shoot my first fox, once again with Dad's old Beretta. The many congratulations and, most importantly, looks of excitement and approval from my father and grandfather meant as much to me as the carefully tanned trophy skin that now adorns my bedroom. Little did I know that my first vehicle spotlighting hunt would follow soon after, on which I bagged around 20 rabbits and a couple of huge hares. Dad was definitely pleased about that one!

And so, I say to the hunting mums, dads, grandfathers and grandmothers: Take your sons, daughters, grandsons and granddaughters with you next time you embark on a hunting trip. This requires little effort and the youngsters will have the time of their lives—trust me, I know! There is no better way to introduce the next generation to hunting than by taking them with you when you go out. In this way, you will create memories in their minds that will last longer than the sweet, strong scent of powder solvent and gun oil.