I couldn’t believe the gator was still alive. Writhing violently (you could say uncontrollably) would not be what I would do if I was just shot in the back of the head with a 150-grain Swift Scirocco. But at that instant I could focus only on reloading as Sage hurriedly said, “Shoot him again. Shoot him again.”
That was the plan. I never took the rifle from my shoulder as I worked the bolt and tried to keep my sight picture looking alongside the Burris scope at the muzzle of the Franchi Momentum. I locked the round into battery as I tracked the gator with the muzzle, gingerly applying pressure to the trigger, and thought, Focus, breathe, press. I also thought, Don’t screw this up.
After all, at that instant the gator and the muzzle of my rifle hovered just below my feet.
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Three months earlier I’d accepted an invitation to hunt night hogs on the Florida Space Coast with Mark Sidelinger, a principle of Media Direct, the PR and advertising representation of Franchi, Burris and Fiocchi; Jordan Egli, marketing director of Burris Optics; and Chris Hogg, marketing director of Fiocchi USA. Now in August it was hot and buggy, but we were in a great place to hunt hogs with Franchi rifles, Fiocchi ammunition and Burris thermal optics.
This was my third hunt on the Space Coast. Previously I’d hunted hogs here with a crossbow and with a handgun and dogs. A thermal hunt was probably the only way to top each of those excursions.
We started to prowl each evening just before dark. There wasn’t much sense leaving earlier, as it was just too hot for anything to move, most of all us. Our guide, Sage Kempfer, motored the truck from field to field in search of a sounder as dusk turned to night. Often he would switch off the lights as we crept close. As I wasn’t behind the wheel, each time he did so I felt a little uncomfortable. But Sage grew up prowling this place; he knew exactly where to drive and could probably navigate the entire ranch blindfolded.
The rest of us used some sort of Burris thermal optic to see in the dark. There were several.
I liked the Clip-on, a thermal sight that doubles as a handheld observation device. We used it to spot game in the dark then clipped it to the objective lens of a Burris RT-6 standard daylight scope and boom—we were in business in the dark. It doesn’t even have to be perfectly level so long as your riflescope is mounted level, and it most certainly should be. Attached to another gun was a BTS35, a 35mm Burris Thermal Scope with 4X digital zoom and the ability to record shots. Anyone caught without a gun in hand used a BTH35 thermal handheld monocular.
When a sounder was spotted we’d sneak from the truck in the dark, rifles in hand, stopping occasionally to peer ahead with a thermal. Of course we played the wind. We could get quite close so long as we crept quietly in single file. Forty yards wasn’t out of the question. After the shooting started it became a jailbreak, even though we used suppressors. Sometimes we piled up pigs, sometimes only one was shot. All along the mosquitoes did their worst. Oh the sweat ran. Florida in August in the dead of night is not a place where one can expect to be comfortable. But it was fun.
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On previous outings here I’d watched spaceships launch from Cape Canaveral. Osceola Outfitters offers deer hunting in addition to hog and gator hunting. But its main draw, as the name would suggest, is Osceola turkey hunting. One might book a hog hunt just about any time of year. But if you want a crack at an Osceola tom you’d better book early.
The hunting outfit is only one part of the Kempfer family business enterprise. The heart of it all is the Kempfer Cattle Company, a beef cattle outfit situated on 25,000 acres. Proprietor Hoppy Kempfer is the fifth generation of a family that has plied this land since 1898. These days they run 4,000 head of Brahman cattle, the breed with the distinctive hump, long floppy ears and loose skin. It tolerates heat and humidity well, resists parasites and doesn’t seem to mind low-quality forage common to the area, perfect traits for this climate. Additionally, the ranch supports a sod farm, a sawmill and two shell pits, discovered by a previous generation and tapped to provide material for roadbeds. But wait, there’s more. The Kempfers also work with Florida to conserve alligator populations not only through hunting but authorized egg collecting and the sale of gator meat. The whole shebang is what I call a great use of the land—all the land.
Needless to say there are plenty of gators here. I knew that. On previous hunts I’d seen them, thought about them when tromping through deep forests and cypress swamps. Here one may gaze across a pasture and think it looks placid—hot, buggy maybe, but peaceful. But cross that grassland and step into the palmettos and pines, and you enter what can be called jungle. I’ve always thought my LaCrosse Burlys are just about the perfect footwear to pack for this place.
Into the mix this time I carried a Franchi Momentum All-Terrain Elite, a great addition to Franchi’s bolt-action lineup. It wears a light-contour, free-floated 18-inch barrel with a threaded muzzle. A Pic rail is ready for rings and a scope. A camo composite stock features a deep pistol grip and a removable, adjustable cheekpiece. Its AICS-style removable magazine holds 10 rounds. It’s chambered in .223 Rem. or .308 Win., our caliber of choice. Oh, it’s a great rig. Stuffed with Fiocchi Hyperformance Hunt topped with 150-grain Swift Sciroccos, it had no problem on hogs. Surely the combination would do a number on an alligator.
Something else I knew about the Momentum: Its sweet trigger and short bolt throw make for awfully fast work.
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There was only one gator tag and my name was on it. The thought tickled me—not the knowledge that I held the only tag, just the fact that I was going to hunt such a creature. According to Hoppy’s son Sage, our guide, we were in search of a management gator, which is about 9 feet or less, which seemed perfectly good to me. We looked in ponds, mostly, as Sage explained how he sizes up a gator by what appears of it on the surface of the water. I guess I could be excused for thinking I’d probably shoot a gator in a pond.
At about 10 o’clock on morning No. 2, Sage drove to a spot where an equipment operator clearing a fire break had reported seeing an alligator in an irrigation ditch. The waterway, draped in shrubs and trees, ran alongside a pasture, next to it was the rather narrow strip of land that had recently been cleared and next to that was thick forest. The overgrown waterway was the only strip of cool shade on a hot landscape. One could easily mistake it for a creek.
We drove back and forth slowly as Sage looked and thought. He parked, exited the truck and closed his door quietly. We all followed. The guide crept ahead of us then stood and peered into a deep pool. “He’s in there,” he whispered. “I can see the bubbles.” I looked up and down the waterway. This was the biggest, deepest, darkest, coolest waterhole within hundreds of yards. If I was a gator I’d consider it a good place to loiter.
Back at the truck Sage laid the plan. With a spinning rod he would cast a treble hook into the pool, hook the gator and reel it to the surface, at which time, while standing alongside my guide on the bank, I would shoot the beast in the back of the head. “You won’t have long,” said Sage.
OK—working fast, got it. I was thankful I had the Momentum in my hands. You see, quite often an outdoor writer goes on a hunt and is handed a strange firearm—it may very well be the first time he’s ever held the gun. Regardless, the expectation is always, “Here, use this and be successful.” Sometimes that’s a tall order, depending on the equipment. Not this time. I knew the Momentum is wicked fast. A couple of years ago with a Momentum Elite Varmint I’d knelt and shot off sticks and dropped a pronghorn in Montana, reloaded and was ready to shoot again all before the buck hit the ground at 118 yards. The thought was comforting as I considered the hunt now at shoestring level.
So Sage reeled the gator to the surface and I was just about to shoot when the hook broke free and the bugger sunk back into the watery depths. “Be ready,” my guide said as he cast again. “He saw us. He won’t want to spend time up here again.”
Sage cast again, hooked the quarry, reeled in a bit of slack and began to pull as we waited. Blam! The gator rolled and rolled. Sage hung on like a tuna tugged on the other end of the line, exclaiming, “Shoot him again. Shoot him again.” I traced with the muzzle, fretted I was taking too long … . Blam! Then the rolling stopped.
Then came a part I hadn’t considered. Only my name graced the tag, Sage explained. So I was the only one, along with my guide, who could touch the gator before we tagged it. Hmm. We had to drag the thing ashore ourselves. It was right there below us; seemed like the task shouldn’t be too hard. But, sheesh, there was nothing before me I wanted to grab. While Sage bent on a knee and pulled on the gator’s shoulder I tugged on its tail, which felt like a solid leather firehose. There was no give to it. No flesh sank beneath my fingers. I exerted so much strength to maintain my grip I had little left to contribute to “landing” the creature. Truth is Sage did most of the work.
Once it was on the bank the guide fetched a knife while admonishing us: “Don’t trust it. It’s dead, but don’t trust it.” He stabbed the gator in the vertebrae, twisted the blade. “It’s dead. But it’ll slither for a day.”
Seriously? It was true. The big lizard still slithered and writhed, not much but enough to look creepy. How prehistoric. Everyone wanted me to straddle the thing and pull open its mouth for a trophy shot but I’d already decided against the idea. “I don’t want to put my hands anywhere near that mouth,” I said. Instead I knelt and held up the tail, and, just as Sage said, those post-death spasms yanked it from my hand.
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In case you’re wondering, yes, this was all legal.
Of course I asked before, during and after the hunt. I was reminded we were on private land, and that guns are good for gators during daylight. Moreover, Hoppy has been doing this for decades, and for years now his sons have helped run the show. None of them is going to start breaking the law now. Osceola Outfitters literally brags on its website that its gator hunters may use a gun in daylight, or use a bow, harpoon or even baited hooks, from a boat or from shore. Pretty much everything is cool, except anyone helping you drag the creature from its murky depths after you have (one hopes) killed it.
Still, as I wrote this I thought I’d double-check regs online myself, you know, to be sure I don’t “Munson” myself in print. I read and write for a living. I figured I’d find something online with the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission that revealed something like, “It is legal to use a treble hook to pull an alligator to the surface and shoot it in the back of the head.” But I couldn’t. Talk about a morass of words. Honestly, FWC, we need to talk.
Guns, Ammo and Optics for Florida
With its camo stock and its removable and adjustable cheekpiece, a free-floated, 18-inch threaded barrel, a fat bolt handle, a 10-round magazine and flip-up sights embedded in a Pic rail the Franchi Momentum All-Terrain Elite resembles a battle rifle, and I can’t see a thing wrong with that. The heart of the gun is a push-feed action and a full-sized, round bolt body with three lugs to create a 60-degree bolt throw for fast operation. A Relia trigger adjusts from 2-4 pounds. Metalwork is coated in Midnight Bronze Cerakote, which looks fabulous next to the TrueTimber Strata camo stock.
Fiocchi was founded in 1876 in Italy and has produced quality ammo ever since. The company began importing ammo to the States in the 1950s. Today, Fiocchi USA operates two manufacturing plants, in Ozark, Mo., and Little Rock, Ark. Eighty percent of Fiocchi brand products sold here are made here. The .308 Win. load we shot features a 150-grain Swift Scirocco leaving the muzzle at 2875 fps. The polymer-tipped bullet features an extra-heavy tapering jacket wall and a bonded lead core for reliable terminal ballistics.
At night Burris optics led the way. Perhaps my favorite was the Burris Clip-on v2, the BTC35 v2, which means a Burris Thermal Clip-on 35mm focal length version 2. If you don’t want to dedicate a gun solely to thermal this is the unit. It’s a clip-on thermal sight that doubles as a handheld tracker. Features include 1X, 2X and 4X digital zoom, 400x300 resolution and five color palettes to help identify thermal signatures out to 750 yards.
We also used a BTS35, a 35mm focal length Burris Thermal Scope with 4X digital zoom, 400x300 resolution, picture-in-picture, 10 reticles, video recording and more that’s ready to make any rig a dedicated night hunter. A BTH35 v2, a thermal handheld, was the eyeball in the dark for anyone without a gun. Our daylight scope was an RT-6 1-6x24, a scope built for three-gun competition with a 30mm tube and a Ballistic 5X reticle on the rear focal plane with 11 brightness settings.
