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DOVE EXTRAVAGANZA IN ARGENTINA

By: Ron Wilson

December 15, 2007.... During a Safari Club Fundraiser, Mike Monschein asked me if I would like to go hunting  doves in Argentina, I jumped at the chance to go and we just recently returned from some fantastic hunting there.

Mike had made all the arrangement through Continental Airlines for his father Frank, Ken Nichols, Frank’s good friend and Gin player and me. Frank and Ken played gin all the way over, they played cards in the suburban on the way to the airport, on the plane, in the airport, in the hotels unless they were busy shopping or hunting.

We arrived in Buenos Aires and after settling in it was shopping time. Mike and I hit the streets while Frank and Ken went to a soccer game. Now leaving Mike and me alone is like letting the blind lead the blind and by the time Ken found us in a bar we had consumed a half bottle of Patron and Mike was on a roll and a few drinks later we had ¾ of it gone and decided we needed another walkabout. Not sure where we went but we covered a lot of territory before we came back to the hotel bar and finished off the bottle and called it a night.

I bet Ken thought Mike had set him up with a drunken fool for a roommate. He was right about the fool part. I had to arise to the occasion and be sociable as Mike needed drinking company and he didn’t even have to twist my arm. Anyway Ken and I had hunted doves locally so we kind of knew each other so things went pretty well.

The next day was walking and shopping and walking some more. With a town of 3 million people and 1 million visitors a day there were always lots of friendly people on the streets, I just wish I knew Spanish a lot better as all I picked up was parts of conversations whether it was other peoples or someone trying to talk to me. Ken and Frank shopped for shoes while Mike and I just shopped looking for wallets, belts or something for his gals.

We got a taxi and went to an area of Buenos Aires where Frank had taken his wife many years ago where he had first seen the Tango Dance and the building where it had originated from with daily shows. Frank said the area was pretty well preserved as he had remembered it. I got a shot of Mike with a couple of the tango girls that were on the street. Not sure but one of them looked old enough to be an original.

Frank was kidding us on the plane all the way over to Buenos Aires that we would be taking Tango Lessons and that evening we went to the Gala Tango downtown where Tango Lessons, Gourmet Dinner, Dance Tango and Folklore Show was held. Ken got a picture and a step or two doing the tango and Frank tried his hand at it but when he came back to the table he complained that all she wanted to do was lead when he had wanted to take the lead. Needless to say we gave Frank a ribbing about that.

You put a few friends together and its like open season if you have a punch line at one of your buddies you toss it and see if the rest of the guys laugh or not and Frank threw his share of jabs along with the rest of us.

The dinner was costly in perspective but when you add the dancing, music and showmanship that was presented it was worth every penny, in fact if we had had time we would of went back and saw the show again as it was that good.

There was not to many options that we found for the guys to see or do in Buenos Aires but for the women its shopping heaven. We boarded our plane the next day for a flight to Cordoba. Now the people in Cordoba don’t like the people in Buenos Aires because they get most of the tax dollars for their city and the people of Cordoba are short changed as far as they are concerned.

We were picked up by Santa Rosa Hunt representative Maria Marcela Riera an interpreter that owner Adriano Acosta hired so that she could translate our needs to him and vice a versa. We arrived that afternoon with a lunch sitting on the table. After eating we still had time for a little evening hunting.

We loaded up and headed to a field that had literally thousands and thousands of doves in it. The four of us lined up along a hedgerow of trees and the shooting began. My bird boy had a hard time just dropping shells in my front pocket to keep me supplied with ammo.

Talk about tough shooting, a storm was coming in and the 15 to 30 mile an hour breeze that was blowing made it tricky shooting. Every time you started following a bird for a shot you would have 2 or 3 fly threw your vision of fire at different angles and it was tough to concentrate on a single bird because there were so many going every direction. In just a couple hours we had shot a case of shells apiece. I don’t know who loaded them but every now and then one would have several more grains of powder than the other and it would kick the heck out of you. The 12 gauge I was shooting had me flinching by the time I was on the last box. The wind started swirling and Frank hollered at me to get the hell out of here. Straight and to the point I thought I was getting tired of the gun pounding me anyway so I handed my gun to my bird boy and we called it an evening.

The next morning after a good breakfast we arrived at a different field a little after 8 a.m. The rain storm the night before seemed to cause the birds to not fly as well compared to the fantastic flight we had the night before. The shooting was steady but it seemed like a slow morning for birds after the first evenings hunt, but to my surprise by noon the cases were empty and Mike had killed about 400 birds, Ken over 200 and I have no idea how many Frank and I shot and I didn’t even care.

I got a kick as one of the bird boys came by me and saw my bird boy empty a box of shells in my front shirt pocket. (I was now shooting a 20 gauge as the 12 had malfunctioned). He called him a coyote. Since he was loading Franks gun for him. I chuckled as all I wanted was shells when I needed them and water when I needed a drink. My bird boy was real good about keeping me supplied with ammo and about stopping me every so often and handing me a bottle of water so I didn’t get dehydrated and get a heat stroke as it was hot as hell to me.

Back for lunch at noon a shower and siesta and then back to the field for more shooting. We traveled to yet another field, this time we drove threw a corn field, crawled threw a fence and Adriano had us set up for shooting for our style, right in our face overhead. We crowded together maybe 20 yards apart and made a game out of the shooting. The goal was to drop the doves in a 5 foot ditch in front of us or as close to the hunter on either side of you, preferable feathers in the face.

On one occasion I shot one and Mike almost caught it and on another it was falling toward him and at 10 feet he shot it dead center blowing head and wings in 3 different directions. Closest hit was right at Ken's feet on the bounce.

We had a ball and in just a couple hours we were out of shells and the bird boys brought us some more ammo which was quickly shot up so we called it an early evening. Adriano picked up a gun and some shells and showed us some of his shooting skills. He could hold his own when it came to shooting doves.

Day three we went out and it was slow to start but just kept getting better and better and by 11 a.m. we were done. Adriano had said we would be taking pictures of all the birds that morning but he had left them in sacks at home so we piled up about 1/15 of what we shot that morning and took pictures in the field for show and tell.

We had enough shooting and killing so after a shower and some lunch and settling our $1400 shell and gun bills, except for Mike’s which was higher. We then headed back to Cordoba and the Windsor Hotel and Towers, a great place to spend the night before we left to go home the next morning.

Ken was now in hog heaven where he could finish up his shopping for grandkids, himself, etc. Mike went to bed early while Ken, Frank, Maria and I went for a walkabout and a good place to eat dinner. We found a good place but they didn’t take credit cards so Frank said to hell with them even though we had cash money.

We went to another place but there was no ambiance there according to Frank, he told me he would show us a place that is just right with the ambiance he wanted. Well with the help of Maria and a taxi cab we ended up just where Frank wanted a nice steak house with class.

The Alcorta was just the right spot where steak, wine, and excellent service was perfect and the area had the ambience that Frank sought. The dinner for 4 plus drinks was under $100. Things were a lot cheaper in Cordoba and if I had it all to do over again, I would fly from the states straight to Cordoba for a couple days walkabout and shopping, hunt for a couple days then fly back to Buenos Aires to stay a night then fly back home. That way you would have some of the flying time already done and make the long trip home a few hours shorter/

How did Frank and Ken come out on their Gin game. Well after many hours of playing they ended up dead even just before we landed at SFO. The duo is pretty well equal when it comes to the card game and they enjoy that as much as golf I think.

For the several local guys that backed out of going on this trip, all I can say is you missed one hell of a good time with lots of great camaraderie had by all.

Look up www.huntingargentina.com.ar for more information about year round dove hunting in Argentina. The birds are considered a pest there!