My name is Jamie Heywood, I am 28 years old, and father of four beautiful kids to my lovely Mrs, Haylee.
I have been hunting since I was walking, and love and live it. I live at the top of the South Island and hunt with my 3 main dogs Lucy, Rosie and Sky. My most recent, wicked, memorable hunt was when the Mrs and I went camping on our boat in the Marlborough sounds towards the end of spring 2018.
We left the Friday night and had a few beers and with a fish caught for tea, a couple of cod and gurnard. We got up before sunrise to go for a hunt, I tacked myself and the dogs up while the Mrs slept and drove over to the beach. I let them off and they sprinted straight up into the bush while I strolled briskly along the beach behind them. They were hoofing it and about 20 minutes in I heard a big bail up, treed on the unit and more barks. They were about 800 metres from me now so I boosted up a steep hill into the native, then that’s when I got to stick the pig bout 300 metres up from the shore. It was a bloody mint pig, big tusks, big heavy boy.
The Mrs came running down the beach, she met me on the shore where I had basically had to throw and the carry the pig along the rocky shore back to the boat… the Mrs helped me pick him back up as I was buggered, she had trouble lifting his head onto my shoulders, she said she woke to hearing the dogs echoing in the bay. We took some glory photos and went back to the boat, chucked the hog on the front and sat and had a coffee about 7.30am hunt done and dusted. Was bloody proud bringing it back into the harbour, we got home and weighed him in at 65 kilos.
The next weekend we had freedom from the kids we took the opportunity to go back for round 2 and did the same as last time went and camped up for the night, fishing, some brews, a little bit romantic haha. But we got up early and pulled up on the beach while the Mrs got the pot boiling for a coffee, we were once again off instantly into the thick bush and it was crack on right away. It was maybe only 200-300 meters from the beach, the dogs had one nailed. We could hear the grunts and squeals so naturally I sprinted up fast as I could. The pig circled a bit with the dogs on its ass and within another 5 minutes I was able to stick it in the flat on the grass, another good boar down, bloody good dogs. I carried him down the beach to the boat ready just in time for my coffee with my fresh boar for the morning. He weighed in at 130 pounds.
Jamie Heywood