All hunting does not have to be done on land. You can also hunt for lobster, fish, pictures and a good time underwater as well.

These pictures were taken last summer when my wife and I were in Fort Lauderdale snorkeling off of the beach. We used one of the disposable cameras, and it did a pretty good job. It has been sitting in my car since then, and while I was in town the other day, I finally got it developed. So I thought that I would share a few of the shots here.

The neat thing about diving in Fort Lauderdale is that you do not need a boat or air tanks. You can literally just swim a couple of hundred yards off of the beach to one of the reefs and see some amazing things. And while having an air tank would allow you to stay under longer, since it is only 10-20 feet deep, you don’t really need one. Plus it is a great workout!

The reef runs parallel to the beach, so once you get out to the reef, you can just swim along with the current until you are ready to get out. Then you swim back to the beach and walk back to you car. It truly is one of the easiest and neatest dives I can recommend. And depending on the experience of the diver and their physical fitness level, there is a reef for you.

There are generally 3 reef lines that you can reach from the beach. The first one is only about 75 yards offshore. This is the easiest and the closest, so it is perfect for beginners. The average depth is normally about 8 feet, so you don’t have to work very hard to get down, and since it is so shallow, you don’t even have to… you can swim along and see pretty good. This is perfect for beginning divers!

The second reef is about 200 yards offshore and tends to be a much better dive. However since it is a longer swim with an average depth of 15 feet, it tends to be a little tougher for those not comfortable in the water. You can still see lots of stuff right from the surface, so being able to dive down is not mandatory, but it helps when you want to get a closer look at some of the coral or what’s under it (notice the lobster hiding). Expect to see lots of sea fans, tropical fish, sea turtles, tarpon and nurse sharks.

Then you come to the holy grail of beach diving, the third reef. Unless you have a boat, this one is not recommended for inexperienced beach divers due to the difficulty and the distance. It is about 700 yards offshore and averages 20-25 feet deep, so it is definitely not for the weak at heart since you must first swim all of the way out there. Then once there, to really enjoy it, you must be able to dive down to truly see the wall of corals and the abundance of sea life that live in and around them. But if it is clear (and it normally is), you can still see from the top, so it is not a wasted trip even if you can’t get down. Here you can expect to see an even greater abundance of tropical fish, lobster and grouper as well a more diverse landscape of corals.

The best way to do this dive is to tie a raft to your dive flag so that you have something to hang on to while you rest. Like I said, it is a pretty good swim (usually against the current) to get that far off the beach, so if you have a cramp or something, a raft really comes in handy. And since the life guards can’t see you if you have a problem, you are on your own.

Diving in Ft. Lauderdale is truly one of my favorite underwater excursions due to the cost - nothing. You don’t need any special gear, just a mask, snorkel and fins. Most people already have those, and you can rent them from a local dive shop if you don’t. And if you live anywhere in Florida, you can do this dive on a day trip, so no lodging is needed. However if you have just a few bucks, you can get a basic room right on the beach strip for around $75 and walk to the beach to dive. And by staying, you can then go a little more hardcore by doing a night dive! There is truly nothing like swimming offshore hundreds of yards in to the black night to see the reefs come alive after dark…

I may have to do another post on this!

diving, Fort Lauderdale

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Last October, a group of us here in lowcountry started the Salkehatchie Branch of the Quality Deer Management Association to promote the organization as well as provide educational opportunities to aspiring deer/land managers. We now have one of those events ready to go! Please read our press release about this exciting day and all that is included… I hope to see you there.

The Salkehatchie Branch of the Quality Deer Management Association (QDMA) and the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources (SCDNR) will be conducting a one-day Deer Management Workshop on Saturday, May 31. The workshop will be held at the Webb Wildlife Center in Garnett, SC. The workshop will feature seminars, presentations and field demonstrations given by wildlife biologists, foresters and agricultural specialists. Guest speakers include:

Charles Ruth, SCDNR Deer Project Supervisor
Dave Guynn, Professor of Wildlife and Forestry, Clemson University
Marion Barnes, Clemson Extension Agent
Jay Cantrell, Wildlife Biologist and Webb Center Manager

Presentations and field demonstrations during the day will cover topics including: soil testing, food plot management, tree and shrub plantings, enhancing native vegetation, timber management, harvest strategies and herd management.

Hunters, landowners and others interested in managing deer are invited to attend. The workshop will begin at 10 a.m. and will run until 4 p.m. Lunch will be provided for all participants. The workshop will be limited to 30 participants to ensure a quality experience and opportunities for discussion. The cost is: $15/person. Anyone interested in attending must pre-register by no later than May 28.

Contact Jay Cantrell or April Graves at the Webb Wildlife Center: (803) 625-3569 or
cantrellj@dnr.sc.gov or gravesa@dnr.sc.gov for further questions or registration.

QDMA, Salkehatchie Branch of The Quality Deer Management Association, SCDNR, South Carolina Department of Natural Resources

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I wanted to wish all of the mother’s out there a very Happy Mother’s Day.

And the picture to the right is the cover of the card that I created for my wife last year for Mother’s Day… but I think that the reward has gone up since then!

Jeff

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Do you own at least five acres in Barnwell, Allendale or Bamberg County that has a history of crop planting? If so, your property may be eligible for a cost-sharing program that will basically pay you to plant and maintain turkey habitat.

The following is a press release explaining the program:

The USDA Farm Service Agency is now offering the State Acres for Wildlife Enhancement (SAFE) Initiative under the Conservation Reserve Program to enhance high priority wildlife habitat in Allendale, Bamberg and Barnwell Counties. The SAFE Habitat Initiative will provide technical and financial assistance to install and maintain up to 2,300 acres of wildlife habitat. Habitat establishment will require planting a mix of three types of native warm season grasses along with two types of forbs while managing for natural vegetation diversity.

To enroll in the program, land must be located in Allendale, Bamberg or Barnwell counties, contain a minimum of five acres and have a history of crop planting. The program potentially pays rental rates, sign-up bonuses incentive payments and cost share. Contracts run between 10 and 15 years, and require active management including light discing, herbicide application and prescribed fire, all of which are eligible for cost share.

For more information on the SAFE program see the attached pdf or contact the Farm Service Agency or Natural Resources Conservation Service offices in the participating counties:

creating turkey habitat, South Carolina

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As some of you may know, my wife and two boys are out in California for 3 weeks visiting her grandparents. They are having a wonderful time, but I must admit that I am having withdrawals without them. The house is sooooo quiet, and I don’t have anyone here to beg me to take them hoggin’ every other minute. Nor do I get to hear about what a great hunter I am while we look at my mounts or watch big buck videos.

Luckily for the boys, Amy’s grandfather set up a bunch of archery animal targets in their backyard in CA so that they could take their toy guns and stalk them. I understand that activity has been a huge hit. And they also have cable out there (we do not), so they have been able to watch some of the outdoor channels that have hunting on. And when I call, Bo makes sure and tell me all about it.

They are finally coming home next week, and while I have enjoyed some peace and quiet as well as caught up on many needed photo projects, I am sooo ready for them too. I miss going hiking, arrowhead hunting and hoggin’ with them. I also miss all of the funny things that Bo says, and now that “baby” (Will) is starting to talk, all of the funny things that he is saying.

And a great post yesterday by The Hunters Wife about the crazy things kids say made me remember one of our most hilarious episodes here at the house. I thought I would share it with those that didn’t see my story/comment on her site…

For the most part, my wife and I keep the language very pure around here, but we all make mistakes sometimes. Unfortunately the boys pick up on anything that has some strong inflection on it, and then they want to repeat it.A while back, our oldest boy heard my wife say “Jesus Christ” about something, and then he just started saying it over and over. My wife said, “Bo, momma made a mistake when she said that, now you please stop saying that. Your grandparents would be very disappointed to hear you say that!”

Bo looked right at her and says, “Well damn!”

We are now all working on our language. And counseling starts soon… Hurry home family!

hunting with kids

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Congratulations go out to my friend and fellow Salkehatchie QDMA board member Michael Greene who just returned from Montana where he killed a Merriam’s turkey to complete his grand slam.

Michael runs Greenefield Hunting Club as well as works for Morrison Forestry, and he sent these pictures of his trip out West. I hope to get the full story out of him soon in addition to some of his other grand slam kill pictures.

It looks like he and his buddy had a great trip, enjoyed some amazing scenery and killed a couple of fine birds. It also looks like they had some inclement weather to deal with!

grand slam, Lowcountry, South Carolina, turkey hunting

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Check out these unbelievable lowcountry big buck photos that my friend’s wife took this past season. Her name is Gillian, and she is married to Mike Casstevens; he ran Pleasant Hill Plantation for many years and helped grow some of the biggest bucks South Carolina has ever seen. Mike now works for Wise Batten, Inc and helps manage the many properties that they are responsible for. And let me tell you, they are some serious practitioners of quality deer management, and shots like these show their success in helping their clients produce great deer.

Along with the pictures, Gillian also sent along the following short story about them…

Thanks for the compliments! I have to admit that I am not really comfortable in the “outdoors” like Mike and I was a nervous wreck taking those shots. Mike left me in the middle of nowhere in the stand and made me promise not to make any noise. Within 15 minutes the deer started arriving. I actually have several porno shots of the full “rut”……the experience was awesome and I caught the deer fever through the camera, not a gun. Anyway, I have tons more I would love to share with you that I think are great.

I don’t mind you posting them on your website at all….I am most proud of them and think they are an awesome glimpse of our SC wilderness. As for where they were taken, I am sure Mike would be protective of his honey hole! Give him a call to discuss…..

Well, I don’t need to discuss it with him since I am positive that he wouldn’t want his secret spot given away. Needless to say, it is somewhere here in the lowcountry! And I am working on getting some of her other photos up… like she says, she has some shots of the full “rut”, and by that she means them actually breeding! How many of you guys have ever seen that here in the lowcountry? Well, you will as soon as I can get part II up.

Gillian proves that you don’t need a gun to enjoy the outdoors and that there is a lot more to “hunting” than just killing. Thanks again Gillian for sending those!

Jeff

big buck pictures, Deer Hunting, Lowcountry, South Carolina

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Did you know that you can call male quail to you during their mating season? Well you can…

Right now if you happen to be fortunate enough to live somewhere that has native, wild bobwhite quail, the males are seeking out mates. And if you hear one that is even remotely close to you, and you imitate the call of the female, (one long whistle along with a few others put together) any cock without a mate will immediately come flying or running in looking for a partner.

Yesterday my friend James, who is doing some work on our house, was messing with some of the birds that we could hear calling all around us. Well, after just a few minutes of his calling, this beautiful male came flying over from the pasture across the street and landed on a nearby log to look for his prospective mate. However before I could get the camera on him, he was down and running across the yard. He really wanted to find that hen. I was able to get a couple of shots before the dogs scared him up in to a tree. But even then, he just sat up there for the entire afternoon calling over and over, desperate to find the love of his life.

James worked for the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources for 45 years, helping to run the Webb Wildlife Center here in Garnett. And during those years, he had to assist in the population count of the quail, so he perfected his quail calling to assist in that task. He also competed in several quail calling contests over the years as well.

James can tell you almost anything about everything that lives in our lowcountry woods, and his experience proves that there is no replacement for time spent in the outdoors when learning about wildlife. He would also be the first to tell you that you can only learn so much from a book!

It was just a shame that the bird he called in for us had a white head and weighed 12 ounces instead of having a red head and tipping the scales at 21 pounds! But isn’t that life…

Jeff

calling bobwhite quail, Lowcountry, South Carolina

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Well, it just didn’t happen for me. Our turkey season closed Thursday afternoon without me killing a big gobbler. I have signed up for some counseling, so I should be OK. However I am going to have a long wait until next season to make those darn birds pay. I still would love to hear how everyone else’s season went, so feel free to leave any stories or email any pictures.

As for the picture of the scantily clad girl with the huge rack, I thought that I would include that this morning for all of the googlers that are looking for “bowhunting bikini girls”. I made the mistake of using that term in a my post last week about the crazy searches that will land you at the Hunter’s Wife, and now it seems that Google has decided that I should get some of that traffic too!

And even funnier, and more disturbing, is the fact that I am now getting search engine traffic from swingers. Again, the post I wrote about also talked about how if you Google the swinger’s club down in Florida, called the Hunt Club of Brevard, you will be directed to this site. I assume that is because I am from there, and I have written about Florida hunting clubs.

Now, since Google has picked up on the fact that I mentioned “swingers” in one of my post, it has decided that I may be an authority on swinging in South Carolina as well. Therefore, if you search for “lowcountry swingers clubs”, you will be taken to this site. All I can say is, watch what you write about. And be even more careful about what you search for, especially if you are looking for a new Florida hunting club this season… Because if the swingers are ending up here, hunters are probably ending up there.

Hope everyone has a great Monday!

Jeff

bikini bowhunter, Lowcountry, South Carolina, turkey season

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Well here we are… the last day of turkey season here in the lowcountry of South Carolina. And unbelievably, I still have not killed a big gobbler.

To say that it has been a tough season would be an understatement: quite a bit of rotten weather to make the hunting tough, lots of wedding work to keep me out of the woods and of course the Gobblinator. I guess that I could whine about it, but instead I think I will take comfort in the fact that I have been in this situation before and managed to shoot one with time running out.

I killed the thunderbird four years ago, and it was truly one of my greatest hunts ever. I can only say that every once in a great while, the stars align and everything in the hunt somehow goes perfectly. It so rarely happens that you can’t ever count on it, you just have to spend enough time in the woods for something like this to happen occasionally.

My wife stopped our Toyota corolla at the head of the dirt road leading to our 180 acre lease. Ahead lay two miles of muddy, torn up trail full of giant potholes that sometimes came close to claiming my Jeep Cherokee 4×4.
It was already 4:30pm, and the last day of turkey season was quickly coming to an end… without me having killed a turkey. I needed to get to my hunting area quickly, but the four wheel drive was out in the truck, so even attempting the drive in was out of the question. The only option left was to have my understanding wife drive me the mile and a half from our home to the road’s entrance and put me out with my Cannondale mountain bike. From there I would ride when I could, hike around the muddy craters when I couldn’t.

I unloaded my ultralight racing bike that I had converted into a hunting machine by adding an atv gun rack, and quickly assembled my gear. The sweat poured off of me in the South Carolina lowcountry’s May heat, but I was determined not to let my tag go to waste - No matter what it took!
I had already blown a chance with two big gobblers right at daylight near the back of the property by taking one too many steps towards them before deciding to set up. After that it was pretty quiet (if you discount the swarms of mosquitoes circling your head with their incessant buzzing) until 10am when I rode out, again on my bike, to shower and attend a small family reunion for a few hours.

Now I was back. I peddled to the far front corner and called loudly a couple of times. I figured that I needed a hot bird looking for some late season love to pull off this miracle, so why not give it all I had.
Nothing.
I didn’t even hesitate, I had already made up my mind that if one didn’t respond immediately, I was headed to the very back of the property. To the exact spot that I had squandered a sure thing this morning.
The mud was flying off of my knobby tires all over my back as I tore down the old logging road the split the property; I had to hurry since, not only was time running out, but the sky turning black with impending rain and the lightning was getting closer along with its booming thunder.
At the far end, about two hundred yards from the line, I ditched my bright yellow two-wheeler and grabbed my gun. While walking towards the corner, I pulled out my MAD high-frequency diaphragm, said a small turkey hunters prayer (you know the one, where you promise anything, just to hear that gobble), threw it into my mouth and prepared to call once I got into position.
My plan was to stalk up near the line so that I could glass the neighbors fallow fields for a strutting bird before calling. I always like to be able to see a bird I am calling to if at all possible; that way you can watch his reaction and adjust your tone or cadence accordingly as well as move to intercept them if they don’t come right in. I also hoped to possibly hear one sound off to the now startlingly loud claps of thunder.
I eased up to about 50 yards from the line, glassed the grown over field ahead of me and strained my ears after each burst.

There it was! A gobble… about 350 yards away, just off to my right but far enough down the road and out into the tall weeds so that I couldn’t see him.
My heart almost leaped out of my chest. It was all coming together perfectly. I had located a bird without even calling and that eliminated the possibly of getting busted while trying to set up closer. I was mapping out the rest of my plan when another, closer burst of thunder made him gobble again. Then again! I knew he must be fired up already, so I gave him what he wanted. I sent a string of moderately loud yelps his way followed by a quick cut.
Grrrobbb-grrrooobbble he fired back. I called again, this time with even more passion. Another double gobble. If this bird was any hotter, he would burn up I told myself as I dashed forward towards the other line that lay about 100 yards ahead. A little over half way there I called again. Grrroooble. This time he was definitely moving closer.
I unhooked my Bucklick creek vest and plopped down against a small pine 35 yards from the line, where I could see out into this grown up field and hopefully watch my bird’s progress. And what I really needed him to do was take a few extra steps beyond the field on to our side, and into the range of my old Winchester 1400 12 gauge.
And it sounded like he just might do that since he was really coming now. I knew because he was gobbling almost incessantly at the cracking thunder, giving his exact path away and keeping me from getting impatient and over-calling.
I just sat there in total amazement, drunk off of the sounds of this gobbling gift, waiting to unwrap him with some #4 heavy shot while he closed the distance. Finally I could see his tail feathers over the weeds. He was strutting down the road about 125 yards out. He was coming, but not as fast as the rain drops were starting to fall.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something if he was going to make it to me before the bottom fell out and ruined my hunt. I called one last time, pleading with him and surely making all kinds of dirty promises in turkey lingo.
He hammered back, but continued his crawl my way. I just knew the rain wasn’t going to hold off long enough. But then, there he was, 40 yards out into the field, but still technically 75 yards from the barrel. I tightened my grip, eased the safety off and waited while he just basically stood there, strutting back and forth.
There was nothing I could do. So I waited, and waited. Finally, after what seemed like an hour but in reality was probably only another 10 minutes, he started to slowly strut my way. A step here, another step there. I was getting nauseous just watching him.
He eased up to the edge of the field and peered deep into the woods for his lover. I was afraid to even blink. My red-headed savior was now just feet from the line and a mere 8 yards out of range.
Gooobbblle, he hollered into my face, still burning holes into the brush with those beady eyes. I held fast, knowing one small mistake would cost me everything.
He dropped out of strut, took a few more steps while cautiously scanning his surroundings, then caught a face full of tungstonalloy, knocking him right down.
I was up instantly, gliding over the humps in the planted pine rows towards my trophy. I was in total disbelief as I snatched him up and tried to admire his 11 inch beard and 1 inch spurs. But I couldn’t. The heat and excitement had gotten to me, and I crumpled to the ground on the verge of a heat stoke. I just sat there in a total daze while memories of so many hunts on the tract flashed through my mind. One of the most important ones was just to listen to the turkeys with my dad.

Just then the rain started coming down heavy and that helped me cool off enough that I regained my thoughts, packed up my bird and started peddling back to the highway. Once there I rode right down 321 with my bird bird sticking out of my vest and my gun on my handlebars. I just couldn’t wait to show my wife. She was as happy as I was and couldn’t believe that I had managed to kill a turkey on the last afternoon of the season. She grabbed the camera and we took some pictures before the sun disappeared. One of the shots was of me walking my bike down the old oak avenue by our hose. It is one of my alltime favorites and it now hangs in our den. On the opposite end of the house hangs the Thunderbird.

What an incredible hunt. Let’s see if I can do it again!

Jeff

Lowcountry, South Carolina, turkey hunting

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