Cruiser Safaris

27 Years Later

Twenty-seven years after his last African safari, he returned to the Limpopo bushveld with one animal firmly in his mind, Cape buffalo.

For four days, he and PH Hans followed tracks through the dust. They walked more than 25 miles, came within 18 yards of a bull before the wind betrayed them, and later stood frozen as buffalo passed within 15 metres. The .375 was ready, the crosshairs settled on a magnificent bull… but he was not the one.

No shot.

That is buffalo hunting.

On the fifth morning they changed country, and Africa finally dealt them a different hand.

A group of bulls appeared through the bush. Hans quickly set the sticks as the first bull stepped across an opening at 45 yards

A whistle stopped him.

The crosshairs found the shoulder.

“Take him.”

The .375 roared, and the bull disappeared into the thickets. Less than 100 yards later, the unmistakable death bellow rolled through the bush.

After four long days, the buffalo was theirs.

But Africa wasn’t finished.

That same afternoon, they found a magnificent nyala bull. The first stalk failed, but they managed to get ahead of him. The bull appeared again, slipped through the cover and then made one fatal mistake, he stopped in a gap.

Another crack from the .375.

A few metres later, Hans walked up to the bull and immediately knew they had something exceptional.

It would become the largest nyala taken in Cruiser Safaris’ 31-year history.

A Cape buffalo in the morning. A record Cruiser Safaris nyala that afternoon.

After 27 years away, Africa had certainly remembered how to welcome him home.

And with an old warthog still to come before the safari ended beneath a glowing Limpopo sunset, there was only one thing left to say…

See you next time, Africa.

Happy Birthday, Rinus! 🥳

You have a deep respect for the land, endless patience, and sheer passion for the bush that makes every adventure with you unforgettable, and it’s a privilege to have you as part of the Cruiser family!

May your boots stay sturdy, your aim stay true, and the coming season be your best one yet — full of great tracks, good stories around the fire, and moments you’ll be telling for years to come.

Here’s to your resilience, your determination, and that fantastic personality that makes you who you are. May the year ahead be guided by clarity, purpose, and plenty of laughter, and may it bring you every bit of triumph and celebration you deserve.

We look forward to celebrating with you.

The Three Musketeers Return

Bruce, Shawn and Greg — the Three Musketeers — returned to Cruiser Safaris once again, bringing with them the usual laughs, friendship and a hunger for another African adventure.

This safari held a special achievement for Bruce, who completed his Wildebeest Slam (Black, Blue, Golden and King Wildebeest). A fantastic accomplishment and another chapter in his African hunting story.

But when the three were asked to choose their favourite hunt of the trip, one stood above the rest.

Shawn’s kudu.

It was day three. Greg already had a beautiful sable and nyala in the salt, while the morning had been spent chasing golden wildebeest without quite closing the deal.

On the way back for lunch, they spotted him.

A kudu bull stood quietly on the far side of the river. He had seen them too, but seemed completely unconcerned. With the river between them, the old Grey Ghost clearly believed he was safe.

From that bank, he was.

So Shawn and Hans got their boots wet.

They slipped into the river, waded across and began their stalk through the bush on the opposite bank. The kudu was already suspicious, and before long he picked them up. They needed to get closer, but another step in the wrong direction would send him disappearing into the thickets.

They gave him room, circled for a better angle and slowly stole their way forward. Crouched low, using every scrap of cover Africa offered them.

Eventually, there was nowhere left to hide.

The sticks went up.

Shawn rose slowly behind them while the kudu watched every movement. The rifle settled.

A shot broke across the river.

And Shawn had his number-one animal of the safari.

Then came the final adventure, getting a big kudu bull back across the same river that had made him feel so safe only a short while before!

Bruce completed his Wildebeest Slam. Greg enjoyed another fantastic safari. And Shawn gave the Three Musketeers the hunt they would all call their favourite.

Another return to Cruiser Safaris. Another safari with Hans. And another African story these three will be telling for years to come.

Some hunts are remembered for the trophy. Others for the moments that led to it.

Jason and Elisha joined us all the way from Alaska for a fantastic African safari, and together they collected some beautiful trophies. Jason’s eland came after a proper walk-and-stalk hunt, the kind that makes an eland bull feel well earned.

But it was Elisha’s kudu that would become one of those hunts we won’t soon forget.

Early on day three, they headed out early arriving with the morning still young and a full day of hunting ahead. After a long walk they finally caught sight of a kudu.

From there, patience took over.

For nearly 20 minutes they stood absolutely motionless, afraid that the slightest movement would give them away. Then, as so often happens in Africa, twenty minutes of waiting suddenly turned into a few seconds of opportunity.

There was no time to stand. No time to get onto the shooting sticks.

From a kneeling position, Elisha settled the rifle and made a perfect, clean shot.

A beautiful kudu, a hard-earned trophy, and one of those moments that makes sharing the African bush with good people so special.

Jason and Elisha, what a pleasure it was having you with us at Cruiser Safaris. From Alaska to Africa and a safari filled with memories that will travel home.

Africa has a funny way of making you earn the moments you will remember most.

For three days Scott had been trying. Stalk after stalk, opportunity after opportunity, and every time the sticks went up it seemed the bush had other plans. A flick of an ear, a change in the wind, one wrong movement and they were gone.

But Scott kept hunting.

Day four found them behind a group of impala rams. The first stalk failed, but giving up was never part of the plan. They circled around, picked them up again and this time tried to get ahead of them.

The sticks went up overlooking a small clearing. Now they could only wait. A young ram appeared first and walked straight through. Somewhere behind him was the one they wanted.

Then he stepped out.A mature ram, exactly where they had hoped he would be. A small noise made him stop and turn.

That was all Scott needed.

The rifle cracked and the ram disappeared into the bush, but only for 20 yards. After three days of close calls and empty shooting sticks, Scott finally walked up to his first African animal. A beautiful impala ram, a hard-earned trophy, and the first chapter of an African hunting story he will remember for the rest of his life.

Sometimes Africa makes you wait.

But that only makes the moment she finally says yes so much sweeter.

“The Time I Went to Africa…”

Every great African story begins with a step into the unknown.

For Andrew, it began beneath the endless skies of South Africa’s Limpopo Province, chasing plains game through the thornveld, following tracks in the red earth and watching the African sun rise over a landscape hunters have dreamed about for generations.

There were long stalks and hard-earned opportunities. Dusty boots, whispered plans beneath the acacias, the crack of a rifle rolling away into the bush, and magnificent trophies earned through patience and perseverance.

But Africa had something greater waiting for him.

Somewhere between the beautiful sunrises, perfect sunsets and evenings around the fire, Andrew’s African safari became part of a much bigger story.

He got engaged.

Suddenly, this was no longer simply the story of “The time I went to Africa.”

It became the story of where another great adventure began.

Years from now, the trophies will still hang proudly on the wall and the photographs will bring back memories of the animals, the hunts and the wild Limpopo bush. But among them will be one memory greater than all the rest, the place where he asked one of life’s biggest questions, and she said yes.

Africa gave Andrew trophies for his walls, stories for the campfire, and memories that will last a lifetime.

But perhaps his greatest trophy was never taken with a rifle.

Andrew’s Safari… a hunt, an adventure, and the beginning of forever.

After three days of chasing the Grey Ghost, hope was beginning to fade. Two full days had passed without success, and on the third day of hunting kudu, they searched from first light until late morning without laying eyes on a single bull.

With the midday sun climbing higher, they turned back toward the lodge for lunch. Then, as so often happens in Africa, the bush whispered one last secret.

A shiver of stripes. A glimmer of horn. A fleeting glimpse of grey between the thornbush.

Everyone froze.

Moving with the patience that only Africa demands, they eased closer until the ghost finally stepped into a narrow opening. There he stood a magnificent old bull, heavy-horned and wise, the kind of kudu that haunts a hunter’s dreams.

The shot broke the silence, and the giant collapsed where he stood.

After days of searching for a ghost, the African bush had finally revealed one of its greatest treasures. A magnificent bull a trophy that made every mile walked and every empty hour worthwhile.

Before the hunt had even begun, Blake Tolbert had made one thing clear, he was an opportunistic hunter. In Africa, the greatest adventures are often the ones the bush chooses for you.

Day three dawned cold and windy. The plan was to hunt blue wildebeest and impala, but the bitter weather had the bush unusually quiet. Then, a fresh set of Cape buffalo tracks crossed their path. Blake smiled and said, “If we find them, we’ve got to give it a go.”

Not long afterward, while returning from an unsuccessful impala stalk, they caught sight of a herd of buffalo slipping across the bush. One look through the binoculars revealed exactly what they hoped for a hard-bossed old bull.

The hunt changed instantly.

Circling wide to keep the wind in their favour, they eased into the thick cover where every step raised the tension. Younger bulls appeared first, then suddenly, through a small opening, the old warrior stood broadside.

The shooting sticks went up. Blake settled behind his .375.

The rifle cracked.

The bull disappeared into the thickets with the herd crashing after him, leaving only dust and pounding hearts behind.

After waiting, the team carefully took up the spoor. Twice they caught up to the herd, but the old bull remained hidden. As darkness closed in, they made the difficult decision to back out and return at first light.

With the rising sun, they quickly picked up the trail again. Less than 50 yards from where Blake had fired, the old bull lay still.

What had started as a hunt for blue wildebeest and impala became the hunt of a lifetime. Africa had offered an unexpected opportunity, and Blake seized it without hesitation. The chase for the legendary Black Death had delivered everything a buffalo hunt should. Adrenaline, uncertainty, respect, and a memory that will last forever.