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It was my second trip to the rock otherwise known as Newfoundland and Labrador. Our plane landed in Deer Lake. Flying in at around 15,000 feet you could see what a wilderness the island has – the foothills, lakes and rivers, and small mountains. It looked unreal from the sky, and we knew we were in for fantastic week of hunting. There were eight of us, and of the eight, four were seeing the island for the first time.
I knew what to expect. I’d spent three days there hunting moose with an outfitter that hadn’t been up to par, but this time I knew it was going to be different.
We got our rental van and headed up the west coast of Newfoundland to the northern peninsula and a small town called Roddickton. At Mayflower outfitters we met with the owner Trevor at his rustic camp. There were log cabins for sleeping quarters, and a main lodge with a large dinning area. There was an orientation and I met my guide Boyce. I told him I was a bow hunter, and that I wanted to take my moose with my bow. He seemed uneasy, but said it wouldn’t be a problem. He was a bow hunter too. Overhearing our conversation, Trevor’s dad asked why I’d want to use a bow during rifle season. But I was determined to try. In the end, his wisdom proved sound.
The next morning, an hour and a half before sunrise, we set out. We walked down an old loading road to a cutover. As soon as we got there we noticed a cow moose about 80 yards away, and stood there for 20 minutes watching.
Boyce went toward a nearby ridge to see what was beyond it, and immediately ducked. He turned back to me then, and whispered that there was a big bull 80 yards away. “Get your rifle out,” he told me. “He’s got our scent and he won’t come into bow range. It’s a bull of a lifetime. Get your rifle!” So I struggled to get my riffle out of its case, and loaded it as fast as I could. I got to the top of the ridge where Boyce was waiting for me, and took a look at the bull. He said I should shoot whenever I was ready, but as I took the safety off my gun the bull turned and began running. I had lost my shot. He got to about 150 yards from where Boyce and I were and stopped behind some trees.
All I saw was his rack, and what a rack it was. Boyce said it had to have been at least between 48 and 52 inches wide – very big for a Newfoundland bull. We waited for him to move so that I could take a shot. Instead he walked into the bush and disappeared. I looked at Boyce and we seemed to be thinking the same thing: I should have listened to Trevor’s father and been ready with my riffle. “There’s still plenty of time; don’t worry, we’ll see more.” That night all I thought of was the bull’s rack between the trees, and how I might never get a chance like that again. I didn’t sleep much.
As luck would have it, it turned out just as I suspected. On day two we say two cows, but no bulls. I could have taken a cow, but I was looking for a nice rack. Days three, four and five went the same way. On the last day, I decided I didn’t want to leave empty handed and so I told Boyce I’d take a cow if we saw one.
The moon had been out every night since we’d gotten there, and so the bulls had spend each night eating all they could, and each day bedded down. This made for hard hunting. We headed to a clear cut, and as the sun came up, Boyce began calling. After half an hour of calling I looked out at a tree line 200 yards away and saw a great cow moose. Boyce asked if I was ready, and I told him I was. I had learned my lesson, even if the prize this time wasn’t as remarkable. I lined my cross hairs up on her, took the shot, and saw her fall.
I was happy to get my Newfoundland moose, and glad to have been reminded that knowledge comes with experience. We had a successful week of hunting, with a total of eight moose, three bears and two caribou. Newfoundland is a great place to hunt if you can get out there. You’ll see what I mean.
- Steve Frustaglio, Host of Hunt TV