During my second stint of calling Texas home, I wanted to discover, experience, and write about every unique facet of general aviation that I could within the Lone Star State.
From a back-seat WACO checkout to learning the basics of off-airport flying in a Carbon Cub, and so much in between, I can honestly say I was able to do just that.
Although I thoroughly enjoyed every opportunity, there was one experience that was especially Texan.
Thanks to a lead from friend Mike Sasser, my eyes were opened to an area of aviation that I had no idea even existed—exotic wildlife capture via helicopter.
The operation, Tango 82 Aviation, is based out of the Gillespie County Airport (T82) in Fredericksburg, about an hour north of San Antonio but only 10 minutes away from where I was living at the time.
After an evening carnitas run, I decided to swing by the airport to see if anything was happening. To my chagrin, there absolutely was.
As I made my way toward the northwest side of the field, I noticed several Robinson helicopters on trailers being pulled into a hangar. Quickly sending a text to Sasser to verify these were indeed the exotic helicopter guys he had informed me of, I parked my car and made my way to the hangar.
“Hey, is Chavi around,” I asked a bearded and slightly caught-off-guard man in his mid-30s (this was after 8 o’clock in the evening after all).
“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied.
Chavi, whose name is Darren Flores but goes by his nickname, is the man behind Tango 82 Aviation. Although proper journalism dictates that I should refer to Chavi as Flores throughout this article, that quite simply won’t do. After all, it wasn’t until several days of hanging around him and his crew that I even learned his real name was a far cry from Chavi.
After introducing myself, I asked Chavi for clarification on all that the company does to see if his operation might be a story worth telling.
“Currently we offer wildlife capture services, single-pilot [Part] 135, 133 external load, just got our 137 aerial application status, flight instruction, and tours,” said Chavi.
“So tell me more about the wildlife capture side of it. I’ve never even heard of that,” I replied.
“It all starts with getting a call from wildlife brokers,” said Chavi. “Then we will get the job scheduled and drive to wherever the rancher needs us to be. We trailer 99 percent of the time due to ranchers not wanting to pay the ferry time. Everyone wants to be cheap, even though there is a lot of money in the industry.”
The exotic wildlife market, which began in Texas in the 1960s and ’70s with the importation of animals from Africa, exploded during the COVID-19 pandemic, according to Chavi.
“People were buying ranches, and that was really good for business,” he said. “It has just now started slowing down from all that.”
Although there is significant wealth and industry tied to the exotic wildlife market, for Chavi and his team it is about much more than that.
“It comes down to conservation,” he said. “Instead of being hunted, the animals will go into breeding facilities. Some of the things that we do will extend into hunting, because that’s what drives the market on the species. But for the most part we stick to the conservation side.”
Without giving away too much of the operation’s story at our first meeting, I asked Chavi if would be willing to have me tag along on a capture to get a firsthand look at the nature of the company’s work.
“Oh, yeah, we can do that,” he replied. “I’ll get a date over to you soon.”
Two weeks later, I arrived bright-eyed to the Fredericksburg airport on a Thursday morning just before sunrise.
Chavi, who was there to greet me, asked if I was ready to go. “I was born ready,” I replied. After opening the door that extends out to the ramp, I noticed our chariot, a white Robinson R66, was eagerly awaiting our arrival.
“Oh, nice, the R66!” I enthusiastically said.
“Oh, yeah, it will be nice to fly to the job instead of driving like we usually do,” said Chavi. “We don’t like to trailer the R66 [because] it messes some things up, so you’re getting spoiled today.”
However, what we weren’t expecting was two weather diversions that prevented us from getting to the ranch in South Texas until 11 a.m. The old saying “time to spare, go by air” definitely rang true on this particular morning.
After a several-hour delay, we finally landed in a grassy field at a ranch in Pettus. We were met by the Tango 82 ground crew, exotic capture specialists, a team of veterinarians and brokers overseeing the operation, and managers from the ranch itself.
Once the helicopter was refueled, the plan of the day was briefed. Our first mission was to locate and fire tranquilizer darts into two female blesbok–a type of antelope native to South Africa–in one of the several hundred-acre pastures located on the property.
The blesbok, along with the other exotics that we captured were selected because they were sold in an online auction that occurs twice a year, according to Chavi.
From there, the team loaded up into its respective machines (Chavi, the darter, and myself in the helicopter, and the ground handlers in two separate, four-seat Polaris Rangers), and we headed off in search of the blesbok. I climbed into the left rear seat behind the darter, Jon Bally, and was told to hang on.
With all four doors off, we took off and headed for the pastures. With the wind in my hair and boots hanging on the edge of the skid, I was living my best life as I watched beautiful exotics run around their respective pastures underneath the helicopter. It felt like a scene straight out of National Geographic.
Once we arrived at the blesboks’ pasture, Chavi and Bally located the herd and identified their first female. With careful positioning and piloting from Chavi to not run the blesbok into a fence or other obstacles, he lined us up with the herd and positioned the left side of the helicopter perfectly in line with the animals.
“It’s a process, and safety is what we focus on,” said Chavi. “Obviously, the safety of the people is No. 1, and the No. 2 [thing] is the safety of the animals. We don’t want to run them into fences or any other obstacles that might hurt the animals. Everybody is always looking for wires, towers, or anything that is abnormal. They know to call it out.”
Although it seemed a bit chaotic as the blesboks darted in every direction as we sped over the treetops, it was evident there was a method to the madness.
“There’s a lot of really good pilots out there that could do the majority of what we do,” said Chavi. “But the thing that sets us apart is knowing animals and knowing how to read animals. They will pretty much always tell you what they’re going to do. But you have to pay attention.”
After loading the tranquilizer gun, Bally positioned himself on the edge of his seat and took aim as Chavi gracefully, yet very deliberately, maneuvered the Robinson. Before I had even realized that Bally had fired the dart, he turned to Chavi and confirmed that he had a “good stick.”
Turning back toward the animal, Chavi radioed to his ground crew that Bally had darted the blesbok. As the ground crew made its way toward the helicopter, I continued to watch the animal. As her pace slowed, she eventually laid down in a shady spot along the fence.
After allowing a few additional minutes to pass, the team of four capture specialists approached the blesbok, secured it, and loaded her in the back of the Ranger. From there, the crew transported her to a veterinary team where her temperature was recorded, physical condition assessed, and pictures taken.
After ensuring the animal was in a healthy state, she was loaded onto an exotics trailer where the drugs began to quickly wear off.
“It really depends on the type of animal and the drugs, but typically they are only out for 40 minutes to an hour,” said Chavi. “They are constantly monitored.”
As we hovered in the same relative location, Chavi and Bally quickly identified the second female, and the process was repeated.
Although we successfully darted three other species within a few hour time span, the process hardly varied. But there was one animal that seemed to make everyone a tad more anxious than the rest.
“The roan bull is one of the meanest things we’ve got,” said Bally. “Their horns will do a ton of damage.”
After another impressive chase/maneuvering session by Chavi, Bally darted the bull and confirmed a “good stick.” Since this animal seemed to have everyone on the edge of their seats, I asked Chavi if we could land so I could walk out with the ground crew to secure the bull.
“Yeah, just be careful and follow the guys,” said Chavi as we touched down in a small area surrounded by trees, brush, and fenceline.
As Chavi took off, I couldn’t help but notice the anxiety of the capture crew. One of the handlers, Quinn Englert, who has been injured on several occasions (including by a roan bull) reconfirmed the uneasiness I was suddenly feeling.
“They are big animals, and they can get mean quickly,” he said. “Let’s just hope he got enough of a dose, but don’t get close until we say just in case.”
After Chavi confirmed from the air that the bull was ready for capture, a team of eight (rather than four) steadily made its way toward the bull. As I followed behind the team, I spotted the bull laying in the brush along the fence. With huge horns, a beastly body, and hooves that could render a mean kick, I began to understand why the team was ready for a fight. Luckily, the bull was in the perfect state of tranquilization to allow for a smooth capture.
Once the animal’s legs were bound, blindfold applied, and sling-type harness attached, the ground crew radioed to Chavi that the bull was ready for transport. Lifting this several-hundred-pound animal into the back of a Ranger would simply not be possible, but it would be an easy feat for the turbine-powered Robinson.
As Chavi hovered a few feet above the ground, a ground handler attached the heavy-duty line that was secured to the animal to the bottom of the helicopter. Within a minute, the bull was flying high above us all, wrapped securely in a sling beneath the R66.
After a minute-long flight, the bull arrived safely to a team of specialists and vets who took the bull’s temperature and ensured his overall health. From there, he was loaded onto a trailer for transport to another ranch in Texas.
Tango 82 Aviation showcases an incredibly niche aspect of aviation coupled with an intensely unique skill set of pilots and crew. Its fleet of four R44s and one R66 have been the workhorses behind a successful, small, and growing American business.
“When I went out on my own in 2016, I wasn’t operating it like a business,” said Chavi. “We were just barely making it. I used to be one of the guys helping out on the ground, making sure the net guns were working, the nets were packed, and the helicopters were fueled. That’s where I started.”
From working day in and day out as a capture specialist to flying six days a week for his own business, Chavi has no plans on slowing down.
“In a perfect world we want to grow our [Part] 135 [operation] and get a few airplanes on charter,” said Chavi. “We’d like to continue what we’re doing but also grow on the fixed-wing side.”
For those interested in becoming an exotic wildlife helicopter pilot, Chavi said “it’s not rocket science.”
“At the end of the day, we’re just flying helicopters,” he said. “If you know your machine, that’s a huge part of it. But this isn’t a job for just anybody. We’re pilots, but that doesn’t mean we can just make [expletive] happen. It’s all about being set up for success. No day is ever the same, but every day is a challenge.”
