HUNTING THE OCELLATED TURKEY

ADVENTURE IN CAMPECHE, MEXICO – HUNTING THE OCELLATED TURKEY

The staccato rattle of a male, oscellated, wild turkey echoed through the steamy jungles of Dzibalchan in Campeche State, Mexico. I had waited for decades to hear the “singing” of the male oscellated turkey.
I had traveled to Campeche City, Mexico at the invitation of The Director of Tourism, Lic. Luis Augusto Garcia Rosado. We had enjoyed dinner together on a previous trip to Campeche and laid plans for my return. My first trip evolved out of my interest in catching bay tarpon in the Los Petenes Biosphere Reserve near Campeche. Cpt. Miguel Encalada, my fishing guide, had arranged the meeting with Rosado. A friendship and plan to improve tourism in Campeche quickly developed among our trio.
My recent trip to Campeche involved two weeks of tarpon fishing, exploring historical areas of Campeche and the surrounding area, visiting Mayan ruins sites and hunting for the elusive oscellated turkey in the dense jungles of the Yucatan.
I spent the first week of my journey in the company of Cpt. Miquel Encalada and his boat man Mikey, a Maya Indian, who spoke very little English. Their combined capabilities took me through endless miles of mangrove jungles, into bays, lagoons and freshwater creeks entering the Gulf of Mexico. Catching my first tarpon on a flyrod proved to be one of the outdoor highlights of my life. Tail-walking across the surface of the gin-clear waters of the lagoon, the fish made a desperate attempt to escape the sting of my fly. After a few quick photos, I slid the silver king back into the water to fight another day.
My fishing days came to a close all too quickly. However, I had eagerly awaited the second leg of my journey as I had the first. A driver from the tourism commission took me the two hours from Campeche to the Merida airport to meet Ray Eye, a renowned turkey hunter from the states. We arrived back at the Campeche Plaza Hotel at 12:30 a.m. Our wake-up call came at 2:30 a.m.
Our driver hauled us an hour and a half away to the small community of Dzibalchen to the southeast of Campeche. Our original outfitter had to cancel because of a serious auto accident in the family. Upon arriving at Dzibalchen, we were met by Senor Jorge Sansores and Mayan guide Aureolia. Sansores explained that his hunting lodge had already closed for the season, because of the hot weather and the additional fact that Aureolia and his family had moved into the lodge.
Just across the street from the lodge, a residential home, sat a dilapidated open-air shed. It became our headquarters for our hunt. We would meet there each morning and return there about 10 a.m. each mooring for a mid-day meal and a much needed siesta.
Ray Eye and I loaded hunting and camera gear into the tourism van. We were accompanied by two Maya Indian guides, the driver and Sansores’ son. The van struggled to negotiate the rough roads leading through the jungles.
Shortly, we broke out into large corn and soybean fields which had been harvested. The earlier word of Senor Sansores began to make sense. Two nights previously at the hotel he had told me if we would visit in late February or March, he could show us flocks of 300 to 400 oscellated turkeys. I doubted what he said, because all the film footage I had seen of oscellated turkeys showed them being hunted in dense jungles. Hunters stalked the birds and shot them out of trees.
Seven miles into the jungle, we reached our hunting destination. Our guides unloaded the gear and motioned for Eye and me to follow. We traipsed through the red earth of a freshly plowed corn field, next to jungle so thick you couldn’t see two feet into it.
A mile down the field, our guides pointed to a path through the jungle. They lead us only a few feet before pausing in a small opening they had hacked out with machetes. Each guide promptly unfolded a couple of camp chairs and indicated we should take a seat. It quickly dawned on me that we were going to hunt turkeys which would be feeding in the corn field. Eye and I each had the same thoughts. Neither of us had ever seen video footage or written material about hunting oscellated turkeys in agricultural fields.
Well before daylight we heard the first rattle of a singing gobbler. We were ecstatic. Eye began recording the sounds immediately. Soon we heard wing beats as a bird flew from its roost perhaps 50 yards behind us. Aureolia pointed to the other side of the field where the turkey had landed. “Muy grande,” he whispered to us. Looking through his camera lense, Eye indicated that the bird appeared quite large.
The majestic gobbler entertained us nonstop for two hours, but never approached the blind. It faded into the jungle from which it had emerged, singing every few minutes Aureolia pulled a small camcorder from his coat pocket and began showing us video he had captured on other hunts. We could not believe what we were seeing. Hundred of turkeys milled around in the fields. He also had video of mountain lions, peccaries and other wildlife. Ray Eye and I vowed to return next February.
The heat became stifling and we headed to the shed. Cold soda and sandwiches awaited us. Sansores pointed to several hammocks he had hung inside the shade of the shed. Eye is a big lad and watching him crawl into a hammock proved entertaining. He fell asleep almost immediately. Within minutes I read something rustling around outside. A small flock of chickens wandered thought the shed. All went well until a rooster decided to crow near Eye’s hammock. Eye darned near yanked the shed down from his surprise.
At 3 p.m. we headed back to our hide in the edge of the jungle. Sweat trickled down our backs as we settled into our chairs planning to hunt until darkness fell.
Aureolia consistently checked the field with his Nikon binoculars fro any movement in the field in front of us. During one of his breaks from scanning, he caught movement to our left. “Turkey,” he whispered. Eye turned his camera slowly in the direction our guide had pointed. I was the shooter.
“Where is it, Ray?” I asked. He said it was only 25 yards out, but I couldn’t see it through the dense brush.
“Shoot it,” Eye commanded. I couldn’t see the bird. We needed this turkey badly. Eye motioned that he had lost sight of the bird. He panned his video camera searching for any movement. Less than a minute later, the gobbler stood 5 feet away, poking its head into the edge of our blind.
“Don’t move,” I whispered. “It is 5 feet away.” The gobbler moved down the edge of the jungle. At 7 yards, the gobbler started to turn into the jungle. I whispered to Eye and he said to shoot it, even though he couldn’t see it. “We need this turkey,” he said.
I raised the bead of the ancient shotgun to the top edge of the gobbler’s head and fired. The magnificent bird went down in a heap. Everyone in the blind erupted in approval as I headed to my prize. I had completed a lifelong dream.
Campeche State is the safest place in all of Mexico. The entire of Yucatan Peninsula is safe as well. Campeche City is an old Spanish Colonial town full of art, culture, history, beautiful parks and churches and warm, friendly, people.
To book your oscellated turkey hunting adventure, contact www.campechetourism.com or www.snookinnhunting.com.mx. Check out www.outdoorlife.com/chasingspring to view more about this turkey hunt.




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