Over the years I’ve been lucky enough to pick up plenty of shooting permissions. Some have fallen into my lap, and some have come about because I worked hard for them. But my most recent was an altogether more unusual process.
It’s an 86-hectare ancient woodland – mainly beech and oak – in Oxfordshire. A friend who shoots deer on the estate tipped me off that the owner needed help dealing with a rampant grey squirrel population that was wreaking havoc with newly planted trees.
So, I gave him a call. Now, normally I’d say that most of my permissions fall into one of two broad categories. They are either farmers concerned about the financial damage caused by pests, or they are horsey people worried about the threat posed by rabbit holes.
In both cases the first stage has been a chat usually in a farm or stable yard. But when I called and asked for the guy with the 86 hectares I was passed through to his personal assistant. Not sure if I had somehow called the wrong number, I told the lady why I was calling. She asked for an email address so she could send through ‘the brief’. I kid you not.
Sure enough, within a few minutes, the email arrived. The document was an invitation to submit a formal grey squirrel control proposal, outlining the situation in the woods, the problem and the assistance that was required. All very professional, although I had to smile when I got to the part about budget which explained that, although the estate was open to covering some expenses, it considered permission to shoot in the woods as payment enough.
It turned out the owner had retired after selling his interest in a well-known IT company. He’d bought the state with the proceeds, though presumably he didn’t get enough to pay for squirrel control.
He’d also managed to get the Forestry Commission to fund a five-year woodland management plan and was two years into it. To be fair, a huge amount of work had been done to clear trees to allow sunlight through and encourage new growth, and plant hundreds of new trees.
The only issue he hadn’t got to grips with was the grey squirrels and now he was under pressure from the Forestry Commission to do something about them.
All my permission holders have one thing in common – a concern relating to pests and a desire to find a solution to dealing with them. This guy was no different. It was just a case of homing in on exactly what the best approach was.
The fact that squirrels were stripping bark off his saplings was obvious, but what really bothered him was the need to demonstrate to the Forestry Commission that he had a plan to deal with the problem.
As a businessman, his approach was to invite ‘tenders’. And shrewd enough to understand the value of 86 hectares of ancient woodland to people like you and me, he had invited multiple parties to pitch for the grey squirrel shooting rights.
All my other permissions have been granted on the basis of a chat and a cup tea. I realised though that this one would need a more formal approach, so I put on a tie and my shiniest shoes and set out to write a business proposal.
By the time I’d finished, my tender document would have made Lord Alan Sugar clap and cheer, apart from the fact it wouldn’t earn me a penny. In addition to my background and credentials, it contained sections on objectives, methodology, progress monitoring and reporting, timescale and safety.
Carried away, I went for it and set out a budget to cover the cost of three hides, three metal peanut feeders, three trail cameras and 100kgs of peanuts to get started. With that all done, I hit save and submitted my pitch.
Barely a couple of days later I was invited to the estate to meet the landowner and his woodland management consultant. Long story short, they liked the way I’d responded and gave me the permission on the spot.
I won’t deny feeling world champion levels of smugness. But on the drive back, it dawned on me that I had also made an unpaid commitment to reduce the number of grey squirrels on a huge area of woodland and that my progress would be closely monitored. That put me in my place.
Fortunately, I have two good friends who were more than happy to take on the responsibility with me. The first stage in our masterplan was to set up the hides, feeders and trail cameras. With that done, it was simply a case of sitting back and seeing what turned up.
The trail cameras are the kind that send pictures to your phone when triggered. The first couple of days were fairly quiet, but after that barely a few minutes when by before one of the cameras went off.
Despite the fact that the beech mast was out, the squirrels clearly preferred peanuts and were going crazy for them. Fortunately, one of the estate workers was happy to keep topping up the peanuts so we gave it a couple of weeks before our first session.
We’d set up the three hides and feeders in a line stretching roughly 250 metres. The plan was to work the woods section by section, moving the equipment once kill returns and trail camera notifications tailed off.
Arriving early morning for our first session, I drove the truck in and dropped Kev off at the first hide to be greeted by the sight of a squirrel sat on the feeder having breakfast and two more scurrying away.
It was a similar story for Neil when I dropped him off too, and for me when I reached my hide.
A few minutes later I was tucked away, my rifle – a 12 ft/lb AGT Vixen Long – anchored in a Rekon tripod. On top was a DNT ThermNight multi-spectral scope. The feeder was 31 metres away, which is a bit further than I like when targeting squirrels but the tree clearance work meant I had little choice.
Barely five minutes had passed before the first squirrel arrived. It approached from behind the feeder and I sensed its movement some 20 or 30 metres further into the woods.
Unable to pinpoint its exact position, I switched to the ThermNight’s thermal mode which revealed not one but two squirrels sitting in some piled up wood and brush on the floor.
They moved forward confidently, and I switched to the colour digital mode, focusing on the lead squirrel. It made its way up a branch leaning against the feeder and, without hesitation, lifted the lid and selected a peanut, facing directly to me.
Taking a final breath, I slipped the Vixen’s safety catch and lined up, placing the digital reticle between the rodent’s eyes. The rifle popped and the hollow sound of the .22 JSB Hades pellet hitting home was followed by the sight of the squirrel toppling off the feeder and onto the floor. A few flicks of its tail and it was done.
The squirrels came at a steady pace all morning and before long quite a pile had built up around the bottom of the feeder. Neil was close enough for me to hear that he was getting plenty of shoots too and I assumed Kevin was enjoying similar success further down the line.
Then, as if a switch had been thrown, the squirrel conveyor belt simply stopped for all three of us. We gave it another hour to see if it would start up again but didn’t.
The final tally was 33 squirrels. A fine start. But we’ll need plenty more days like it to make a dent on what is clearly a healthy population.
Find a genuine need for your services before making contact – look out for signs of squirrel damage, rabbit excavations or crows and pigeons feeding on crops.
Send a letter or email to the landowner explaining the situation and how you could help – remember to let them know you are a responsible shooter who shows utmost respect to property and could act as a useful extra pair of eyes on their ground.
Make sure you have shooting insurance and let the landowner know – it proves you take your sport seriously. BASC is an excellent insurance provider and a brand that most people recognise and respect.
Do you have a friend or relative who could introduce you to a landowner they know? This approach can be far more productive than simply sending a letter of email out of the blue.
Look out for local farming and equestrian groups on social media. These can be great places to offer your services.
Be polite and courteous at all times – even when you get rejected.
Don’t give up. It may take a while but you will eventually succeed – and when you secure one permission it can often lead to others.
