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Blog Posts > Hacks and Tips > Consultant’s Corner: Traveling to the New Zealand, Australia, and New Caledonia

Consultant’s Corner: Traveling to the New Zealand, Australia, and New Caledonia

WTA Team

| January 6, 2017

WTA Team
January 6, 2017

When you’re going on a hunt to New Zealand, Australia, or New Caledonia, some special rules will apply. WTA Consultant Frank Cole is a frequent international traveler, and he sat down with us to share some tips on these unique tips and how you can get the most out of them.

1. Tourism

If you are adding in extra days for tourism, plan on renting a firearm to make your travel easy. WTA Travel is happy to assist with all your additional South Pacific tour and travel needs and wants. They often combine leisure and hunting trips for our clients and know all the ins and outs of getting you the trip of a lifetime. This is especially important if you’re bringing a non-hunter along with you on the trip. Make sure that person will have plenty to do if not accompanying you out in the field!

2. Firearms

If you are taking a firearm to Australia, you will need a firearm permit for every Australian province you stay in. Each has a separate application, fee, and permit. Applications must arrive by traditional mail with payment couple months prior to your departure. You must receive your firearm permit in the US prior to your departure date. Allow time for international mail. Check with your post office in advance to see how long it will take for the applications to arrive so that you will have your permits in hand prior to travel.

3. New Caledonia

No military calibers allowed in New Caledonia. Always make sure you’re checking the regulations regarding guns wherever you’re traveling to hunt. This will ensure your trip goes smoothly.

4. New Zealand Currency

New Zealand firearm permit is $25 NZ. Get these New Zealand funds at your international departure airport so you will be prepared when you arrive. It will save you a step upon arrival, keeping it simple.

5. Contact your outfitters

While it may sound strange, many clients never bother to talk to their outfitter on the hunt. Please take time to contact your outfitter at least once prior to your hunt. Spend a few minutes going over expectations and concerns with them. It’s time well spent. WhatsApp and Skype work very well with no expense.

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My Alaska Range Grizzly Adventure

I’ve been a bear hunter my whole life, but grizzly was always the dream. When the time finally came, I reached out to WTA to book a hunt. My someday hunt was finally becoming a reality. I thought I knew what I was hoping for: one good opportunity at a mature grizzly. What actually happened over those 10 days was beyond anything I could have imagined.

My journey began in Anchorage, where I stayed the night before flying into the bush. The outfitter has a liaison in town to help with any last-minute needs, so no rental car was needed. The next morning at Merrill Field, I boarded a turboprop (they use caravans, not tiny Super Cubs) for the 1½-hour flight into hunting country.

At the airstrip, the crew waited with Kong—a massive military deuce-and-a-half that can ford rivers, plus Polaris six-wheelers. After a stop at the roadhouse to organize, we headed to moose camp, about four miles upriver.

The camp itself told stories of 50 years of hunting. Cabin walls covered with dozens of hunters’ stories, as far back as the ’70s. Old regulation books showing $50 polar bear licenses. Boxes of ammo, left behind over decades for anyone who might need them. Four cabins with wood stoves surrounded the main lodge, and there was a creek-fed shower with endless hot water. A crate of beer stays ice-cold in the stream. It’s glorious. Remote Alaska with just enough comfort to keep you hunting hard every day.

From the roadhouse, we spotted two black bears on the mountainside. That evening, the cameraman Jordan and I glassed near camp, getting oriented for what was supposed to be a grizzly-focused hunt.

The next morning, those black bears were still there. We moved in. At 390 yards, with shifting thermals threatening to blow our approach, I took my shot. Low but lethal. Two more shots finished it. While butchering, we discovered this old boar was peppered with birdshot—dozens of pellets in each leg and shoulder. Somewhere, sometime, he’d been a problem bear. He could take a bullet. By 3 p.m., we had meat in the freezer and the hide salted. We were back to looking for grizzly.

Day two took us seven miles up the creek on six-wheelers, somewhat technical riding through river crossings and over rough terrain. Near the old sheep camp, we spotted a sow with three cubs and various black bears, but no boars.

Then everything changed. Rounding an alder-lined corner, our guide hit the brakes. A black bear ahead was acting strangely. It was actually approaching us. Behind him, a grizzly was hunting him, panting from the chase. The black bear, caught between predators, escaped up the cliffs.

The grizzly sat on its haunches, exhausted, looking between us and the black bear as it escaped. This bear was in full predator mode, seemingly calculating whether we might be easier prey. Then he simply lay down for a nap, 400 yards away, completely unconcerned by our presence.

For 34 minutes, I stayed behind the gun. Time passed slowly as we talked through every scenario: “If he does this, we’ll do that.” Finally, he stood and turned broadside at 415 yards. One squeeze, perfect shot placement. He barrel-rolled down the slope.

This was it—the animal I’d wanted forever, taken in a sequence I couldn’t have scripted better. Pure euphoria.

We had two bears down and over a week left of hunting. Day three was Jordan’s birthday, and we decided to get him a bear tag from camp. This would be his first hunt behind a rifle. We picked up a great black bear in no time. Jordan’s demeanor totally changed as he went into hunt mode and put a perfect 350-yard shot right into the bear’s heart. Top-tier birthday!

Three bears in three days with a week remaining. I bought a second tag and grabbed my bow. We spent four days searching for another bear, exploring drainages, following wolf tracks, catching Dolly Varden, and collecting shed antlers. Living the full Alaska experience while always hunting.

On the second-to-last day, I spotted a huge black bear doing loops through berry patches on a steep face. After multiple failed positioning attempts, I opted to go solo while Jordan and our guide filmed from a distance. The bear, hearing me crash through the alders below him, thought I was another bear invading his berries. At nine yards, with his hackles up and ears flat, I put an arrow through his front shoulder. Our group’s fourth bear.

Four bears in four days. An incredible adventure. This was the outfitter’s first year focusing on Fall bear hunting. The populations are thriving (evident from the moose without calves), and they’ve wisely increased tag allocations.

I came to Alaska with a lifelong dream of taking a grizzly. What I got was something I couldn’t have imagined: multiple species, incredible encounters, and memories that transformed a dream hunt into something beyond dreams. The grizzly lying down in front of us, completely unafraid. Jordan’s pure joy at his first bear. Stalking with my bow, close enough to hear the bear growling and clacking its jaws.

Some hunts meet your expectations. This one created new ones. When you book with WTA, you’re not just booking a hunt, you’re setting yourself up for adventures you can’t even imagine.

Learn about this Hunt

The Central Flyway is a waterfowl superhighway—a vital corridor for migrating ducks and geese—and for those of us lucky enough to be waterfowlers, it offers unmatched opportunities to hunt and experience the migration from September through January.

Over the past 40 years, I’ve had the privilege of chasing ducks around the world, but many of my favorite memories come from following this flyway, especially during those early years when my duck-obsessed father would pull my brother and me out of school every Fall to chase birds.

That’s right! We missed school every year for dedicated waterfowl trips. No regrets.

In the true north country, along the edges of Canada’s boreal forest, early-season hunts are nothing short of magical. The birds are just beginning their journey south—hungry, unpressured, and eager to settle into newly harvested grain fields. It’s a waterfowler’s paradise. The decoy spreads in these northern zones are often among the first the birds see, and their eager, uneducated responses can be absolutely breathtaking.

One of the most unforgettable sights is the famed swirling cyclone of Canada geese funneling down into a field. I can still hear my dad yelling over the deafening honks, his voice barely audible, “They can’t hear us!” The birds were so loud that those at the top of the funnel couldn’t even hear the gunfire below. If you’ve ever experienced it, you know exactly the kind of spine-tingling moment I’m talking about.

When the birds pushed south, so did we.

The prairie pothole regions of North Dakota are pure waterfowl gold. The right pothole on a cold morning—especially if you can find open water—can be magic. And if the water’s frozen? My dad had a fix: get there early, break trail through the skim ice, and push it under itself to create an opening. Voilà…open water.

I’ll never forget one frigid morning. After breaking ice, my hands were bright red and on the edge of frostbite. I looked at my dad for sympathy, but he just grinned as the puddle ducks cupped up and said, “Do you want warm hands, or do you want to shoot ducks?” Like I said, he was a fanatic. I grabbed the old Winchester pump and did my best. That day, I also learned the value of hand warmers and Gore-Tex gloves.

There are so many unforgettable moments:

Slipping and sliding at a Nebraska reservoir, laughing hysterically as we wondered if we’d ever get the old Suburban and trailer back up the icy boat ramp. After limiting out on greenheads.
Rowing across the Delta Marsh in the dark to find the perfect crescent-shaped bulrush island to set the decoys that the canvasbacks couldn’t resist.
Chasing snow geese in South Dakota and realizing we’d finally picked the perfect field, the one that made it worth all those hours spent spray-painting sheet-metal shell decoys in the garage.

These weren’t just hunting trips. They were memories shared with family, with friends, and with the great outdoors itself.

In the end, missing a week of school every year was worth every single minute.

The last duck hunt I shared with my admittedly duck-crazy father was a world away and half a lifetime ago. The hunt may be long over, but the memory will always stay with me.

At WTA, we’re proud to connect our clients with trusted partners so they can experience these same one-of-a-kind adventures.

We offer incredible destinations and outstanding outfitters all along the Central Flyway—from Alberta and Saskatchewan to North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma—so you can create your own lasting memories.

Call Worldwide Trophy Adventures at 1-800-346-8747 today to book your trip of a lifetime.

See Central Flyway Hunts

Against the Odds: Drawing Back-to-Back Sheep and Goat Tags

Drawing a sheep tag with 1-in-5,300 odds is amazing. Drawing a mountain goat tag the next year? That’s lottery luck. That’s why it didn’t seem real when my WTA consultant, Jordan Roche, called me two years in a row with that news!

I’d been working with Jordan at WTA TAGS for about five years, letting him manage my hunting applications in multiple states while I focused on staying in shape for whatever hunts might come through. When he called about the Tok Range Dall sheep tag (the only non-resident permit out of 10 total), I knew it was special.

After the excitement of drawing my tag settled in, it was time to find the right outfitter to make my hunt a success. WTA recommended one of their top partners for that area and handled every detail. My outfitter made it clear: this would be a backpack hunt in some of Alaska’s toughest sheep country. At 64, with two hip replacements, I can’t run anymore. But I can hike. So that’s how I prepared—I hiked mile after mile with a weighted pack, knowing the Tok doesn’t care about age or medical history.

We went in a day and a half before the season opened and spotted a band of 14 rams, including one heavy-horned giant that immediately caught our attention. Then Alaska did what Alaska does best. Weather rolled in, the rams vanished, and we spent the three days scouring valleys and ridges to find them again.

When we finally relocated them, we had to break camp and make a major move. After a full day’s work, we spotted six rams bedding down as evening fell. The next morning, we made our play.

The wind that day was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It sounded like a freight train roaring up the mountain; gusting, dying, gusting again. At 320 yards, I had to time my shot during the lulls. My first shot went wide in the wind. The second shot dropped him—a beautiful 39″ ram. Honestly, I didn’t care about the number. That’s not why I hunt. I’m in it for the experience and a good animal. This ram was both.

The pack-out was its own adventure. We crossed the glacier-fed Tok River multiple times before Matt showed up with a Korean War-era military vehicle that could go just about anywhere. After nine days in the mountains, that slow, bumpy ride was a step up from travelling another 10 miles on foot. This was a trip I’ll never forget.

When Jordan called me in February 2025 to tell me I’d drawn a mountain goat tag, I actually laughed. “Figure out something for next year,” I told him, knowing the odds of a three-peat were one in a million. But first, it was time to prepare for my goat hunt.

I flew into Homer at the end of August, expecting to start hunting on Tuesday. By Monday evening, my outfitter, Paul, was warning me about the incoming weather. “We might not get you in until Friday,” he said. He wasn’t kidding. We sat through three days of howling wind, driving rain, and zero visibility before finally getting our chance.

Paul operates from a landing craft that serves as a mobile base camp. But getting from sea level to where the goats live? That was the hardest climb I’ve ever done, and I’ve completed five sheep hunts.

It was only 1,500 vertical feet, but every step came wrapped in devil’s club thorns, soaking brush, deadfall, and rain-slicked cliff bands. We hiked for what seemed like an eternity before stopping for the night to set up camp.

The next morning changed everything. Once above that coastal jungle, the alpine opened up to reveal why we’d suffered through that brutal climb. There were mountain goats everywhere. Good billies. The kind that makes you forget about devil’s club and exhaustion.

I took my billy on August 30, the first day of actual hunting after being sidelined due to weather. While packing him out, we witnessed something I’d never seen: ravens harassing a billy goat. They would swoop within inches of his head, and he’d swing his horns, trying to knock them away. Paul had told me about this strange relationship between ravens and goats, but seeing it firsthand was incredible.

The trip down gave us one more show. A black bear, fat from gorging on berries, army-crawled through the blueberry patches, entertained us from 400 yards away. I had a bear tag, but watching him was worth more than any trophy. Crossing salmon-choked streams on the way out completed the full Alaskan experience.

Both hunts worked because of solid preparation and connections with the right team. Jordan, my WTA consultant, had been helping me strategically build points and select units for years. When the draw results came through, WTA’s network meant proven outfitters were ready and handled every detail. They provided thorough gear lists, arranged logistics, and coordinated air charters. Everything was dialed in.

Some guys chase record books. Others chase hunting milestones. I finished my slam in 2019 with a desert ram, but what excites me most these days is the experience—the hunts that test you, humble you, and stay with you long after the pack is unloaded. When you work with the right people and put in the preparation, amazing things can happen. Jordan’s already working on my applications for 2026, so we’ll see what adventure comes through next.

Contact WTA TAGS to learn more about drawing the tags of your dreams: 1-800-755-8247.

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