Rust

We slept in until 0300 and headed out
to our spot code named Fog Hunt.  We
got there uneventfully and set up uneventfully.
The biggest excitement was a flock of black
bellies that flew over our heads six minutes
before shooting time.  It took a lot of restraint
not to round off the time.  We worked our
whistles to try and call them back, but they
had a reservation at some neighborhood
retention pond feeding trough.

We missed shots at a pair of spoons and
a pair of woodies that came through
the dekes, didn't see us, but also didn't
stop.

There was sporadic shooting around
us, but no one had set up close to us.
We saw several groups both large and
small on a different flight line than
ours.  We didn't score until I thought
I heard a hen mottled duck and responded
with a couple of drake calls.  We were
very surprised when a pair of blue wings
came in.   For once, they didn't leave.
I knew I hit mine with the first shot,
but he was still flying and I shot him
again.  I'm not sure many pellets missed
him.  Lt. Jim dropped the hen with one
well-placed shot.

A little later, I tried a hen teal call that
normally doesn't work for me.  We
were caught flat-footed when 20-25
drake blue wings showed up 20 yards
out.  We wiffed on six shots.  Sad.

By 0930 we called it quits and
headed back to the ramp.  Lt. Jim
had to go the airport and pick up
our Navy E5 boy, Craig.  It'll be
good to have him home and have
his gun in the boat.

ofs