Tom Willoughby

[Mel Carter]

Hey folks,
 My self and 5 other guys are heading out to hunt with Tom the first weekend in June, can't wait. The other 5 guys have never shot a hog, they've had chances but missed. This one they should connect. Tom guarentees a shot at 100 yards or less or you don't pay, how's that for confidence. I hunted with Tom about 7 years ago and shot a huge boar, we estimated his weight at about 350 lbs. I'm not sure how accurate this estimation was, he weighed 187 lbs. at the meat locker, that's hanging weight, just the carcass. How much do you think his live weight was? I'll let you all know how we did.

See Ya,

Mel

 

[BoarExpGuide]

I'm a guide up here along the central coast and I can tell you that it has bee statistically proven that pigs will weigh (live weight) on average twice as much as their carcass weight.  So in your case with your pig weighing 187 (carcass weight), the live weight of you pig is approximately 370-380lbs.  This formula doesn't always work exactly, but I can tell you that with over 400 pigs personally skinned by myself, it is on average really accurate.

Dwayne Oberhoff
www.boaring.com

 

[Justin Carter]

HEY DAD

 

[Mel Carter]

Hey Justin. Don't get in anymore trouble with you mother or she won't let you go HUNTING.

See ya,
 Dad

 

[Justin Carter]

I WILL TRY NOT TO BUT TRUBLE COMES LOOKING FOR MEBUT IF IT MEANS NOT GOING HUNTING I WILL TRY.

            BY,
          JUSTIN

 

[bubba]

Mel, how much is your hunt?  Looking for a guide right now.  More for a friend that has never had an oppurtunity at a hog.  He's not exactly rolling in money, so looking for a fair price with good oppurtunity.

 

[Hogskin]

Tom's a great guide.  Not the most gregarious guy in the world, but he knows where to find those pigs and he absolutely will not give up.  It's not really hunting, more like shooting but it's always a blast.

Here's a clip from my journal when I hunted with him a couple years ago.  Kinda corny, but I like to reduce all my trips to writing so that I can look back on them.  

I took cover behind some dense brush at the edge of the creek drainage, not 30 yards from where we had parked the truck an hour or so ago.  From my position, I had a clear view of the field where the hogs milled about, feeding on the tender shoots of barley.  I had been in position for several minutes and I wondered to myself, “What’s taking so long?  Why doesn’t he take a shot?”  I was wishing I were back up on the hill with Eric, Tom, and Joe.  

Less than half an hour ago, we all stood at the truck, watching the hogs file out of the trees, across the road and into the barley field.  When the entire herd of 40 or so pigs had crossed the road, we quietly walked up the road to the top of the rise and sat down at the edge.  Oblivious to our presence, the hogs fed contently in the field.  We sat quietly for several moments assessing the herd and deciding which pigs to take.  I whispered to Tom that the large belted sow on the back edge of the field looked like a good candidate.  He agreed and told me to wait for Eric to take his shot.  Eric sat motionless, peering through his scope into the field.  Tom advised him to take the large black boar in the center of the field.  “Put the crosshairs on his shoulder and squeeeeeze the trigger,” Tom said soothingly.   Eric continued to look through the scope but didn’t move for the trigger.  Tom continued his encouragement, “Nice and easy, just squeeze the trigger,” but Eric didn’t budge.  After several minutes, Tom whispered to me, “Maybe you should double back to the creek drainage and wait.  When he shoots, those hogs are going to either head for the mountains or run into that creek drainage.  If they go for the drainage, you can pick one up as they come through.”  “Yeah, I’ll do that,” I whispered as pulled down my rifle and scrambled back up the hill and to the road that would lead me back to the drainage.  

So there I found myself, back at the creek drainage, wondering why in the heck no shots were being taken.  Those hogs were not getting any closer.  In fact, they all were starting to move to the back edge of the field.  I began to say a silent prayer for Eric when my thoughts were interrupted by the report of his rifle.  It was pandemonium in the barley field and hogs were scrambling in all directions.  A pause of about 6 seconds ensued, followed by another shot.  As if the hogs were now able to get a fix on Eric’s position, they all retreated toward the mountains.  After a pause of several more seconds, a third shot echoed across the valley as the last of the hogs made a retreat into the mountains. A cloud of dust settled over the field and it was quiet once again.  About ten minutes had passed and the guys had not yet returned to the truck.  I hoped that Eric had been successful at downing a pig and that the delay in their return resulted from them retrieving his hog.  I’d heard three shots and my mind told me that this was a “no way”, but I held out hope that he had gotten lucky and nailed the big black boar.  After a few more minutes, they were walking down the hill toward me, Tom in the lead with Joe and Eric following about 20 feet behind him.   As Tom approached, I questioned, the obvious, “No joy, huh?”  Tom shook his head and mumbled something about Eric’s reluctance to shoot.  We all piled into the truck and headed for another part of the ranch.  Daylight was waning and, with it, any hopes of drilling some hogs that day.  As we drove along, I asked Tom what happened back at the barley field.  He said that Eric hesitated taking the shot and that the hogs had moved farther away, requiring a more difficult shot.  I could understand Eric’s hesitation.  He’s a good shot, but a new hunter and when a critter is in the crosshairs, it’s easy to get nervous.  I calmly explained to Tom that Eric was a rookie and that getting on his case would only make matters worse.  He said something like, “Harrummmpphh!” and we dropped the subject.  Glancing down at the dashboard, I noticed a small calendar with a picture of a hot babe in her birthday suit.  Hoping to break the tension, I pointed to the picture and said, “Your daughter?  You must be so proud.”  Tom chuckled but didn’t seem to loosen up much.  “Well,” I thought, “this guy can either lighten up a little or go pound sand.  Either way, I’m not going to let him ruin my fun.”   We drove across the ranch, occasionally stopping to glass for hogs but found none.  The sun was now completely hidden behind the mountains and darkness was closing in.  Tom said, “Let’s try that field where Eric missed and then we’ll call it a day.”  “Sounds good to me,” I said.  As we pulled into the field, Tom shouted, “There’s one, one the side of the hill!  Lay your gun over the hood of the truck and take a shot!”  We piled out of the truck and I laid my rifle over the truck.  I scanned the side of the hill but saw nothing.  Suddenly, the truck slipped out of gear and began to roll forward.  I jumped out of the way and avoided being run over as Tom quickly jammed on the parking brake.  “Come over here and rest on this side,” he yelled.  I ran to the other side of the truck while telling Tom, “I don’t see any hogs, where is it?”  “He’s right there, shoot ‘im!” he barked.  I scanned the hillside and saw nothing.  “There he goes. You missed him,” Tom said dejectedly.  On the ride back to the barn, Joe and Eric sat in the back of the truck while Tom and I rode in the cab in silence.  Attempting to extend the olive branch, I said to Tom, “Sorry I didn’t take a shot at that hog, Tom, I just plain didn’t see him.”  Knocking the olive branch from my hand, Tom said, “Well he was standing there for a whole minute!”  In an instant my blood began to boil and I fired back, “Well, maybe if your *bleeping* truck wasn’t running me over and maybe if there was some daylight that minute would have been enough!”  Tom replied, “AAWWWW!” as if to dismiss my explanations as mere excuses.  That little exchange put a period on the evening’s discussion with Tom except for his order that we meet him in San Ardo the next morning at 5:00.   He dropped us at my truck and left us in a cloud of dust.

By 10:00 the next day, we had two hogs on the hook.  Great fun.

Regards,
Paul

 

[One Track]

That's some great writing Hogskin. I was right there with you the whole time.  I like the way you ended the story.  Some folks are just born jerks.  I always say, "It takes all kinds."  Jerks and kinda-nice folks and really nice folks.  Without jerks, the kinda-nice folks would end up on the bottom of the scale.  Yep, that's what I always say.  

 

[Mel Carter]

Jesse,

 Tom runs $400 for the hunt. You give him $50 deposit and you don't pay the rest until after the hunt. If you don't get in any shooting you only loose the $50. He has no trophy fees or and hidden fees, it's just the $400. I've researched a lot of guides and from what i've seen he's right in the ball park in regards to price, but the hook here is he guarentees a shot at 100 yards or less. Nobody else offers this as far as I know. I also hunt with a guy named Ken Whittaker out of cloverdale, he's a great guy, he charges $300 for a 2 day hunt, this is semi-guided and it runs about 50% success rate. For the extra $100 between Ken and Tom, with Tom's success he's the better price. let me know if you need anymore info on either Tom or Ken, you can find Tom's number somewhere in this forum, if not let me know. Let me know which way you go either way.

As it turns out 5 out of the 6 guys going in June backed out, were down to 2.

Good Hunting!!

Mel

 

[Duck Assassin]

Mel, Let us know how the hunt  turns out for you. I have also booked a hunt with him and never hunted with him but his name came up in sevral places.

(Edited by Duck Assassin at 10:57 pm on May 20, 2002)