Some of my most memorable wild hog hunts

     I could hear my hog dog barking like crazy and splashing in the water of a nearby swamp. I looked up and there was a hog running out of the swamp. I raised my Winchester 30-30 and fired…the hog went down like a sack of potatoes. I could still hear my dog barking so I walked over to the hog looking in the direction of the barking waiting for maybe another hog to run out of the swamp. This barking went on for quite a long time and the sound was coming from one location, which I thought was a bit odd. I slowly walked into the swamp about 20 yards or so and there was my hog dog barking and looking up in a cypress tree. I looked up and to my amazement, there was a raccoon sitting up there looking down at the two of us. Some hog dog…I thought. So I went back to the hog which was not dead yet so I took out my sidearm and finished her off.

    This hunt started off back at my hunting camp in a local wildlife management area in West Palm Beach Florida. I had my dad and my uncle (Martin) there for the opening of gun season. I also had my cousin (Gene) and my best friend (Doug) that lived down the block from me where we grew up as young boys. There was also a friend of my cousin (Paul) that was there with his old military jeep. We had made a plan the night before while sitting by the campfire in anticipation of the opening day of gun season’s morning hunt. Paul and Gene would go out in the jeep and my dad, Martin, Doug, and I would go out in my swamp buggy. I decided to take the dog that my dad obtained from one of his clients. The client said it was one of those guaranteed Hog Dogs from Tennessee, so I thought that I would give him the first morning and leave my other hog dog, Lazy, back at camp. I knew what Lazy could do as I have watched her catch hogs before.

    So the plan for my group was that we were going to hunt the abandoned tomato fields. So morning came and we all had coffee and loaded up in our vehicles and headed out for the morning hunt. I would drop off my dad and Martin in the tomato fields and they would slowly walk the center dirt roadway, one hunting left and the other hunting to the right, side by side. I went on down to the end of the center road and dropped off Doug who was going to walk around the outside rim road. I continued on the rim road to the beginning of a cypress swamp. Once there I let the dog out and he immediately ran into the swamp. It was only inches deep. I waited a bit to see if he would come up with anything and then the barking ensued.

    After I shot the hog with the pistol and got the dog and put him in the dog box of the buggy, I backed up the buggy close to the hog so I could try and load him in the dog box. I heard a voice from behind me,” You SOB”. I knew it was Doug. He said you dropped me off where there would be no hogs and then you drive down here and kill one within minutes…” You SOB”. So Doug helped me get the hog into the box and the whole time we could hear a dog barking and a hog squealing not far away. Doug said “we need to go over to the other side of that swamp and see if we can find that hog”, which was obviously caught by a dog. I said that the owner of the dog would probably get there before we could. So we got into the buggy and picked up my dad and my uncle Martin. They both said that they hadn’t seen anything to shoot at.

    Paul and my cousin Gene had split up earlier a large cypress swamp right behind my camp. Gene was going to walk around one side and Paul was going to walk the other side. It was a large swamp to cover. Gene had made it back to the camp about the same time as we drove up. We were all standing there talking and then heard the sound of a large caliber rifle go off close by. It was Paul…he was driving the jeep through the swamp road that was underwater at this time of year when a young legal buck jumped out and just stood in the middle of the submerged road and Paul shot him right from his seat. Paul said he could see the tops of our tents..he was that close.

    Two of the six of us got our game that first morning which was a good start for the year. Our camp later in the season got 2 more deer and 6 more hogs and 1 turkey that year. My camp is set up 2 weeks before the regular gun season which began the 2nd week of November and remained so until after the spring turkey season is over at the end of March. We used to do a lot of just camping in the woods to get away from the hustle-bustle of city life.

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    Our next hunting excursion was at the Fisheating Creek Wildlife Management Area near the center of the state. I was hunting with a son (Art) of a woman that I worked with. Art had brought his Dodge Ram Power Wagon with a crazy 426 ci motor in it. This was a formable machine with big tires with gripper treads…and could go thru almost anywhere Art wanted to take it. In fact, we were driving down this road and came upon some guys that stuck their new truck in the middle of a deep water hole in the road. We gave them a heavy pull strap and they hooked it up and we backed up to get them out of the water. They opened the doors and water gushed out of that brand new truck. They said we had better go around this hole as it was deep. Art drove right into the middle of that hole and stopped for about 2 seconds. I looked over at him and he told me to roll up the windows and hold on. Those guys must have thought Art was a bit crazy and they would have to pull him out, but that big engine roared to life and the tires dug in deep and caught a grip, and Art’s Power Ram literally jump up and threw mud 20 feet in the air and lunged forward to the other side of that hole. I know those guys got covered in mud. 

    The next morning we decide to hunt a walk-in area of Rainy Slough that was a few miles away from our camp. We arrived at our walk-in point well before dawn and slowly walked out in the slough which had dry dirt roads running through it along with lots of water and high vegetation that you could not see over with a few scattered trees here and there. Hogs need water during the day when it gets hot. They lay down in it or in wet mud to cool off and this place had lots of hogs. When daylight came up we could now see much better to shoot. We had walked slowly maybe a half mile on this road when we heard shotgun fire not too far away. We could hear some guys yelling and could hear them trying to run in the swampy marshland and shooting. Just then about 4 hogs bust out from the marsh and crossed the road in front of us. Art fired and one hog went down. I was eye following another big hog and just when Was about to pull the trigger…Art stepped in front of me. I raised my gun up high. The hog was still moving to my right so I ran a few steps, lowed my shotgun, and pulled the trigger. But it wouldn't fire. I didn’t realize that when I raised the gun up I also put the safety back on but didn’t release it back for firing. By the time I realized what was going on the hog disappeared back into the marshy swamp. I tried to head it off but it was too dense and lost sight of it.

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    On our second trip to this same area that year for another walk-in hunt. On this trip, Art brought a dune buggy towed behind his truck. This was a converted Volkswagen. Art and I had talked about bringing an extension ladder with us out to the swamp. I would take one section and Art would take the other and we could then lean the ladder up next to a tree and get up above the tall marsh grasses and have much better visibility. There were game trails all through this place but being down at ground level you just couldn’t see anything. It was barely dawn, first light, and I was carrying both sections of the ladder. And we were about 30 yards apart looking for a tree to set against. I was trying to keep this ladder from making noise which was hard as it's in two sections. I even tied each end of the ladder with a rope, but it still made noise. I didn’t take but a couple more steps after a rest stop when I heard Art fire his shotgun. I didn’t see the deer get up between us and run back in the direction behind us. I heard Art say,” I hope it's legal”.  I wonder what the hell… The deer must have heard the rattling of the ladder and got up and took off but didn’t know that he was running right past Art. 

    I set the ladder down and we walked over to the deer which was still jumping around. Art took out his pistol and shot the deer in the head. What we didn’t realize at the moment was that when the deer went down, he went headfirst into the muddy weeds and broke off one of his antlers. Ok, he had two antlers but when Art shot him in the head with the pistol he hit the other antler and broke it off as well. Great, here we are crawling around on hands and knees looking for any of the two antlers to prove he was a legal buck. As it is right now, the buck looks more like a doe at first glance which was not legal to shoot. We could not find either antler and decided to bring the deer back anyway and try to explain what had happened to the wildlife officers at the check-in station. We got the deer back to the buggy, loaded it up and tied the ladder on, and got in…it would not startup. There was a couple of other guys coming in at the same time and agreed to haul us back to the check station and then to our camp if we didn’t get arrested. They saw the deer and thought that we were trying to pull a fast one but decided they would weren’t going to get into any trouble…in fact, they wanted to see what would happen. It all went well, the officers measured the base of where the horns had just broken off and said it was a legal buck.

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   Another hunt in the same general area of Fisheating Creek WMA, there was a special 3-day hog-only hunt. Doug, my childhood buddy, my brother-in-law Carmen, the neighbor across the street from me, Bud, and I went on this hunt in two vehicles. We arrive the day before and set up a lean-to-type shelter with a tarp floor and we set up our cots under the lean-to. The top was hung on a couple of ropes tied between 2 large oak trees with the tarp tied to one rope and wrapped over the second rope and down to the ground with the floor tarp on top of it. It kept the dew and what little wind there was down. It was February and a bit cold so no mozzies to worry about.

    The next morning we all piled into Bud’s CJ7 jeep with an extended back behind the rear seat to make a small carry area. That’s where my dog Lazy sat. We arrived at our drop-off points and headed out on foot…again shotguns only in this area. Lazy and I headed out into the waist-high grasses to see if she could pick up a hog scent. She got out in front of me and I lost sight of her. I could hear some dogs up ahead barking and a pig squealing, so I just knew that lazy had caught a hog. I made my way out there and 3 other dogs had this pig stretched out but my dog wasn’t there. So I headed back to the road where we started as she eventually would go back there to look for me. I took my time as it was still early and maybe I might see a hog moving around under the huge oak trees. I made it to the road and heard a single shot ring out but it didn’t sound like a shotgun. I walked up the road and there was Bud and his jeep in the road and when I got there another buggy was just leaving with dogs in the back. I asked who shot and Bud said he thought it was Doug. Just then Doug comes out of the woods with Lazy. I asked did you shoot and Doug was grinning from ear to ear. We put Lazy in the jeep and the three of us walked back into the woods to see this really huge hog. Apparently, Bud and Doug, and Lazy were at the jeep when the buggy pulled up and they were talking. Doug said that Lazy was acting strange and he let her off the leash and she took off and within 10 seconds has a “BIG” hog down on the ground. Doug ran over and here was this huge sow squealing and Lazy pulling hard on her ear. He pulled out his pistol and shot it once in the head. The three of us had a hell of a time trying to get this thing back up a road slope and up to Bud’s jeep. We finally had to turn the jeep towards the hog and use the power winch to haul it up to the jeep. It then took all we had to get this thing up into the jeep. 

    We were still down a man and waited for Carmen to show up. So we head back and decided to stop where we could winch this hog up in the air to gut it out to reduce some of its weight. We finished that task and headed back to the check station. We had to winch it out of the back of the jeep and onto the scales to weigh it. The scales went up to 300 lbs and when we let the full weight of the hog onto the scales it pegged it over past the 300 lb mark. So just guessing, we thought that this hog would have gone well over 400 lbs not gutted. The officers at the check station said that this was the largest hog taken ever in this area and that there was a butcher in the town that would hang it in his cooler for us but we would have to take the feet and head off..so we did. We finished skinning it out back at home and dividing up the meat. There was plenty to go around for sure.

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    The next year another friend, Carl, and I hunted this same 3-day hunt but without any luck. We left late on Sunday to head back home in Miami, FL. It was around 5 pm and we were on a side road without very much traffic, especially on a Sunday. We were about halfway across between major roads when I spotted a loan hog out in an open field. The only thing was I had a hop over a barb-wired fence. I grabbed my shotgun and one shell ( a single 3-inch magnum 00 buckshot), took off my white tee shirt, hopped the fence and made my way out about 50 yards in about 3 seconds, and laid down on the ground and waited. There were some weeds sticking up here and there and I was behind one of them. The hog kept walking along and I set up and waited for him/her to come into view and ... “BAMM!!!! Hog Down”. I quickly got up and grabbed the hog by the hind leg and hauled her back to the fence, hopped it and we threw that hog in the back of the truck and got back on our way. That one made it to a great BB-Que.

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    On another hog hunt some years later, found Doug and me again by ourselves in my jeep headed for a huge plot of undeveloped land near an area of far west Miami, out in no-where’s-Ville. There was a squatter guy living out there that had hogs that he raised and sold. He just turned them loose to roam wherever they wanted. This area was probably a mile square. So we took a drive out there to see if we could find a hog out in the back section. We drove around and up to a bayhead (tree island). Most of the area was high weeds and very open. We got out and were walking around when I spotted some little piglets. Doug said, “let's catch one” and I said then what?? The piglets ran up into the bayhead and Doug was going to go in after them. I said,” ya be careful, momma hog might not be too far away and she will go after you”. Doug went back in about 10 feet and here she came full steam chasing Doug right out to me. It was funny to see such a large man high-stepping and getting away from that momma hog. She stopped when she saw me and turned around and went back into the bayhead. The next morning we thought maybe we would go out there again, but this time with Lazy, my catch hog dog. I took my 50 lb. recurve-bow and three hunting arrows with sharp broadheads. We got out there just as the sun was coming up. We were a little closer to the main gravel road hoping to find another hog without piglets. 

    I went one way and Doug went another. I had Lazy with me for a short time and then she ran off. I was moving slowly through the dense woods and saw a big hog directly out in front of me rooting. Hogs root up various plant bulbs with their nose, used as a plow to find stuff to eat. That hog never saw me. I waited a bit until it moved closer to me, about 20 yards. I then heard Doug talking to Lazy and that hog heard it too and lifted up her head looking straight at me. I was already at full draw just waiting for the right moment. I couldn’t wait much longer as I knew this hog was about ready to bolt. So I let the arrow fly and it stuck the big hog right under the chin in the throat area and went in deep up to the feathers. The impact knocked the hog backward and flipped up over on its back and was struggling to get back up. I didn’t have an arrow quiver, so I had just stuck the other 2 arrows in my back jean pocket. Well, let me tell you that I could not get that other arrow out without slicing my backside. By the time I was finally able to get that arrow out of my pocket the hog was now up and running away, probably to the hog pens where I didn’t really want to go after her. Lazy took off after the pig and I had a hell of a time calling her back. I could just see me walking up to this guy’s hog pens trying to get my dog back. I somehow was lucky to get Lazy to turn around and come back and we headed back to my jeep in a hurry. I was hoping that guy was still sleeping at that hour.

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    I was needing another hog for a family pig roast about a year later and thought of this same place west of Miami. I had noticed from previous trips out there that this was directly in line with the runways at Miami International Airport. The jets are very low over this location and the jet engine noise was extremely loud. The planes were probably less than 1000 feet up overhead. I thought what if: I took my 22 rifle with a short round ( the lightest bullet weight and gun powder) which is not very loud. If I could find a hog and shoot when the jet was directly overhead…it might just work and so Doug and I went out there and found a suitable hog just right for BB-Que-ing and then waited until a jet flew overhead. Well, all I can say is ...BAM!! it worked perfectly...hog down and that BB-Que was just as great eating as the adventure in getting it.

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    Two days before Christmas back in 1988, I was at work and just ready to head home when my wife called and said my son needed my help. I thought he was at home so when I got there my wife said that he and a friend were driving out our treacherous dirt road out to the main paved highway to go to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. They came back and got some guns, a 12 gauge shotgun, and his 44 magnum pistol, and told his mother that when I got home to meet him up the dirt road. All she said to me was my son said, “HOGS”. So I left immediately still dressed in my good black leather jacket. It was very cold with just enough daylight left to barely see. I found them and parked my truck back a bit and slowly walked up to them. Now my son’s friend just moved from New Jersey and they don’t have many open wooded areas up there especially with wild hogs running around so this was a completely new adventure for that city boy. The hogs were back up in the woods but were making their way back towards the dirt road. My son handed me his pistol, which was a bit of an overkill if you will. So I got down on my knees to better see in under the heavy brush. My son said he wanted the big one on the right and I said I’ll take that 40 lb. BB-Quer on the left…on the count of three…BAM!!! In unison and two hogs down. We quickly loaded them up in the back of my truck and took them back to the pole barn and hung them up. I got changed and grabbed some skinning knives and we gutted them out that night but we waited until the next morning to finish dressing them out. I said it was cold but how cold? Well, the meat was nearly frozen the next morning when we began the dressing-out work. Sure was some good BB-Que that Christmas. How cold was it?, well, the following night was Christmas Eve. I turned on the large 500-watt outside floodlights and you could see snowflakes falling down and this is southwest Florida.

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    Probably one of my most memorable hunts was not really much of a hunt at all. We lived out in the woods for 15 years south of the town of Punta Gorda, Florida on the west coast. Early Sunday morning my Dad calls me and said that he saw a big hog walking down the middle of the long dirt road that runs about 8 miles between 2 main paved highways. This is really out in the boonies. Dad always goes up to the country store to get a newspaper. We didn’t have that or mail or garbage pick up out where we lived…I said it was remote. I got up threw on shorts and a tee shirt no shoes and jumped into my pickup and dove out to where Dad said he had seen the hog and sure enough there were the prints in the sand. They led off the road onto a sandy area alongside a small pond. I got out of my truck and followed the prints in the sand to where they veered off into the woods alongside that pond. I went back to the truck and drove back home and got my son up. We grabbed a shotgun and my 9mm pistol and the hog dog and went after that hog. I parked the jeep buggy just off the side of the road and we went off to where I saw the prints leading into the woods. I said that hog is probably not more than 20 feet away in that thick underbrush. My son and the dog went right and I went left and got no more than 10 feet into the woods when I heard the dog growling and then heard the hog squealing and then my son’s shotgun went off. He was maybe 30 feet away and when I looked in that direction here was this really big hog going about 60 mph right at me with the dog right on her ass. All I had time to do was lean forward and stick out that 9mm pistol and when the hog went past me I stuck that gun up to its head and fired one round. That hog skidded to a stop dead in its tracks. Hog Down!

    Now we had to get this big sow hog somehow in that back of that buggy. We had ropes looped over the top rail of the buggy but that was way too much hog for us to lift up and then try to get it sideways into the dog box. So we just tied it up to the top railings with the head nearly on the ground. We tied the big hog back up against the buggy to keep it from swinging around. I found an old white sheet and we used it to try to hide the hog from view should we encounter someone on our way back home. We drove back to the pole barn and backed in and tied the hog to the rafter beams so we could dress it out. What we didn’t know was my next-door neighbor (700 feet away) had some old bird hunting buddies over that morning and they heard that pig squealing and the two gunshots and then saw us drive by with something that looked very suspicious hanging on the back of the buggy. They just had to come over to nose around and see what we had. My neighbor didn’t know we had hogs out where we lived, but then again he was a bird hunter. That hog probably went about 300 lbs or more. My son and I went to work on that hog and put that meat into the freezer…ready for the next  BB-Que.

    I’m sure that I could write about more of my hunting trips here as there were so many but the ones here are some of the most memorable. You can read about another hunting trip, go read: "The infamous Paul D. and animal flashcards".