The title of this post is taken from an old Norwegian fairytale, from the collection of Asbjørnsen & Moe. It is a variant of other more ancient stories from across Eurasia. East of the sun and west of the moon is the place where the sun is eternally sinking in the west, and the moon is eternally rising in the east. The popular meaning of it is of a place very far away. For the past 26 years I have had New Zealand as my home, very far away from most places. When I was 21 I left Sweden, where I lived at the time, and travelled around Australia. This was in 1990 and I remember other travelers I met asked me if I also would visit New Zealand, while I was at this end of the world. My answer was no, but I might get there soon enough one day. It so happened that I moved there in 1998, after having met Hayley the year before. Still in my late 20s I had no hesitation in following her back to her home country. We raised two kids there and I got to explore the New Zealand outdoors like a proper local. Still, the pull back to Europe in general and Scandinavia in particular has been strong for a few years now. Returning to Sweden was partly delayed due to the Covid pandemic but in June this year Aidan headed over first, to submerse himself into the Scandinavian way of living. In mid August I came after and with me also our English setter Bentley, flying via Qatar to Stockholm. Especially the first leg from Auckland is a long trip but he is mentally solid and predicted that he would relax and sleep on the flight. I had also imported his great-great-grandmother Lapphaugens Moulin from North Norway (not far from where I grew up) in February 2002.
After Aidan had left I did of course do some more hunting over Bentley. I wasn’t too bothered about getting more game as I was emptying the freezers rather than filling them. One day in late June we walked a long way into Puhipuhi forest, near Whangarei, where there were less pines and more native trees. He set on a hill in the trees pictured above right and flushed a Cali quail coming fast passed me on the right. I didn’t swing fast enough between the trees and missed. Bentley came out and had a look, then went back in and set again. This time he flushed an equally fast Cali cock bird and this time I was onto it and I could see it fall far down a bank. Bentley went down the slopes and quickly located and retrieved the bird, pictured top left.
Two weeks later in the far north I had decided not to shoot at pheasants or brown quail, but when he set a big covey of Cali quail at a spot where we’ve often found them but they always got away into the trees, I shot when the opportunity came. Two birds flew along the outer edge of the trees and I shot one of them. That was to be his last bird in New Zealand in a productive hunting season across Northland. After that, because I didn’t want any more game and I was being careful as not to get him injured before his big trip, I only ran him in dune terrain without a gun. Like at Uretiti south of Whangarei. The beer seen from the local McLeods brewery always have local scenes on their label, like that one at Uretiti.
Naturally, we had to travel up to North Norway to visit my parents and other family, before we start focusing on daily life in Sweden. Aidan had already spent a good chunk of the summer here and done lots of trout fishing with my brother, when he had his summer holidays. In the first picture below from one of his trips with my brother Knut, Aidan holds a 1,5 kg brown trout. We’ve been on a couple of trips saltwater fishing in Ofotfjorden, catching saithe and mackerel, and a couple of trips into the mountains fishing for trout and just enjoying the scenery. That’s also given us the opportunity to introduce Bentley to the mountain terrain. It’s now autumn and the Norwegian hunting season starts here next week.
Let me also mention an old whistle that I’ve used my entire bird dog life. It was my grandfather’s and has also been used by my uncle. A while back I looked into what type of whistle it is, as it’s a bit different as a dog whistle. It is made by Acme Whistles in Birmingham, England, the biggest and most famous manufacturer of whistles. The one I have is identical to the second from left in the picture below and was made in the 1920s. It used to be on a chain with various other bits and pieces but since I lived in Denmark I simply have it attached to a leather strip. This particular whistle was actually produced as a rugby refereeing whistle, funnily enough as I took it to New Zealand, arguably the world’s leading rugby nation. How this got into my grandfather’s hands inside the arctic circle approx 100 years ago we’d never know. In one pic below it’s seen on a hunt with Moulin & Bella.
Also seen below is the other whistle I use, given to me by my wife and kids some years ago. It’s carved from a jade stone found in a Canterbury river (NZ South Island). The Maori name is Pounamu and they have made tools and jewelry from jade stones for centuries. This specific type of whistle is a shepherds whistle, which are much used by dog people downunder but usually made from plastic or metal materials. In New Zealand it’s supposed to bring luck, wearing jade jewelry you have received as a gift. This whistle has a great range and not only good for whistling dogs!
Pictured below is Kasan 2, born in February 1984, the last dog that my uncle and I used the 1920s Acme whistle for in our Norwegian terrain. I likely took the picture in September 1985, when I was 16 years old.
