This is the final installment of the story from my trip to Molokai to hunt Axis Deer. This was a fun trip to go on, and a lot of fun to write about. Check out the other portions of my Hunting Hawai’i series if you have a chance!
Bret, Blaze, and I met Brian back at the campsite after lugging our goat meat off the cliff and across the beach. Buck and Jesse were still clinging to hope that an Axis deer would step in range of their bows, so we stood around Brian’s Tacoma, passing the time by passing a bottle of Crown Royal Peach around. My time behind a rifle was over for the evening, so I poured a little into a can of 7-Up while we shot the shit.
Jesse and Buck made their way back to the beach campsite a little after the sun went down, while there was still enough light to walk around without a flashlight. Brian’s plan for the rest of the night was to wait until it was fully dark, then head into Halawa Valley. Our first stop in the valley was to be at the Caretaker’s house, where we would dip down to the river in an effort to spear some freshwater shrimp, then head deeper into the valley to chase some more Axis deer with flashlights.
The six of us were in good spirits, even though Buck and Jesse did not get an opportunity to take a shot at any deer with their bows. Their trip had just begun anyway, still plenty of opportunity for them. My hunt was on its last stretch as we loaded the vehicles up and proceeded into the valley.
It was pretty dark on the beach, but there was progressively less light as we went further and further into the valley. By the time we pulled into the Caretaker’s house, it was dark as shit. Brian parked his Tacoma in the narrow, jungle-lined driveway next to a small hut, and we piled out of the vehicles. The hut was the beginning of a cultural hike that, during the daytime, is a popular tourist destination on Molokai. Visitors can book a tour during daylight hours and be treated to a cultural walk through the historic Halawa Valley. Brian gave us a little bit of the pre-walk history lesson, albeit in a much less family-friendly way than the Caretaker and his helpers probably give.
History lesson out of the way, we traded our rifles for spears and headed down to the river in search of freshwater shrimp. The spears were much the same as one might use for spear fishing underwater, long poles with a trio of fine, barbed spokes at the end, launched by a rubber strap. Blaze gave us a quick demonstration on how to use the spears, the trick was to rotate the spear as you pulled it back against the rubber, and set us loose. Buck, Bret, Jesse, and I went hopping along the river rocks, shining our lights in the calmer pools looking for the glowing eyes of the shrimp.
Bret turned out to be more of a natural than any of the rest of us, hopping along the river and actually managing to spear a couple prawns. Try as I might, I couldn’t land a hit on the shrimps. They were quite fast, and I just couldn’t get the hang of the spear. I eventually passed my spear over to Jesse and held the flashlight for him and Buck while they tried their hand at shrimp hunting.
Even though night had fully fallen and we were next to a cool, freshwater stream, it was still hot and humid in Halawa Valley. I was sweating profusely, as if it was mid-day and I was running a marathon, not just standing on slippery rocks watching three grown men chase shrimp with spears.
Brian eventually decided we were never going to harvest enough shrimp, called us all back. Bret, in his zeal, had rock-hopped his way out of earshot, and Brian sent me after him to make sure he didn’t end up back at the beach.
With Bret retrieved, we made our way back to the hut, traded our spears back for rifles, and then headed down the trail. Buck and Jesse did not have their bows set up for hunting at night, so they took the rifles and Bret and I, having killed our share of game, carried the flashlights. It did not take long for us to see groups of Axis deer running through the underbrush, but none stood still long enough for Buck to get a shot off. We kept walking.
We walked past the Caretaker’s “bone pile,” invisible in the darkness but foul smelling. The Caretaker never paid for his own meat, opting to harvest the Axis deer that sometimes walk right up to his porch. The bones, guts, and hides have to go somewhere, and apparently that somewhere is a big pile within scent distance from the trail. A bit more walking and the scent of the bone pile was swallowed back up by the jungle.
Blaze shone his powerful spotlight all around, and zeroed in on another group of Axis deer. These stood still long enough for Buck to get a bead on one.
BLAM!
The rifle shot ripped through the muggy jungle air. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but I could hear the deer take off running through the brush.
“I think it was a bad hit,” Buck said grimly. No hunter wants a bad hit on an animal. A bad hit means the animal will suffer, and stands a good chance of getting away. A miss is better than a bad hit.
As a group, we pushed up off the trail and into the woods in pursuit. The first stop was at the location the deer was standing when Buck shot. Sure enough, there was a blood trail leading us up into the jungle. The blood trail was sparse, but we pushed on hopeful that we would find a downed deer in short order.
We hiked uphill, following a trail of blood droplets that got smaller and further apart the longer we chased the deer. Eventually, we lost the trail, and even with the six of us searching, we couldn’t pick up the next piece of blood, and the ground was a criss-crossed mess of deer tracks. There was no way to continue the search, and Brian called it off. It had been almost two hours since Buck took his shot and us turning back. Buck was visibly upset that he had wounded but not harvested the animal. Brian tried to make him feel better, but I don’t think it worked.
Getting back to the trail took less time than it took to get into the jungle. Mostly because we weren’t tracking anything, but also because now we were going downhill and could go straight instead of following a deer meandering through the jungle. By this time in the evening, almost 10 PM, my ankles and legs were shot from hiking all over the mountains in the morning, climbing new mountains and cliffs in the afternoon, and now stomping around in the jungle. I was hot, tired, and sweaty, and I slipped and slid down one of our steeper descents.
The noise of my graceful slide drew Bret’s attention, and he wasted no time pulling out his phone and filming me in the immediate aftermath. He was hoping to catch me slipping and sliding the rest of the way, but instead caught me sweaty, tired, out of breath, but still pushing along, albeit slowly.
I was more than happy when we returned to flat ground and headed back to the hut. We weren’t quite done for the evening, even though Buck left his rifle in the Tacoma when we walked past. Jesse kept his rifle, and he got his chance just a few minutes after we walked past the vehicles. A trio of Axis does ran across the trail in front of us and down into the jungle. With the help of Blaze’s spotlight, Jesse took two quick shots.
BLAM! BLAM!
This time the rounds hit true, and two of the deer fell to the ground within a few feet of each other while the third escaped further into the jungle. We approached the deer and Jesse and Buck took some time to examine and appreciate the deer. They snapped a few pictures, and then the work began. Blaze set to work processing one of the deer, while Buck and Jesse started on the other. I held the flashlight for Blaze, while Bret held the flashlight for Buck and Jesse.
Within a few minutes, Blaze had his deer completely processed and he moved on to help Buck and Jesse finish their deer. With the meat secured in special meat bags, we packed up and headed back to the truck. It had been another long day, and our last day hunting was complete.
About two hours later, we were back at Brian’s house. We cleaned up as much as we could, then crashed out for one last night on the couch. In the morning, we finished cleaning up and packing our gear, then went to get breakfast in town. After breakfast, Bret and I figured out how much meat we could bring back on the airplane, which ended up being just shy of 150lbs in five separate cooler bags. Our flight wasn’t until about noon, but Brian deemed it important to get us to the airport early. That way, he explained, it was more likely that the small aircraft would have room for our extra cooler bags.
We bid Brian and Blaze farewell at the airport curb, check our bags, and then settled in to wait for our flight. While we sat there, Bret and I discussed our hunt, how well it went and what we would do differently next time, because there will definitely be a next time.
This concludes the storytelling portion of my trip to Molokai. I really can’t thank Brian and Blaze of Kailea Outdoors enough. They made the trip phenomenal and I had a great time. If you are interested in this type of adventure, I recommend looking them up on Instagram. As always, thanks for reading, and if you would like to support the Blog, give the shop a look. There’s good stuff there, and more coming soon…