Last Hunt and First Duck

Today was my favorite hunt of the
year - Youth Waterfowl Hunt. Only
kids under 16 can hunt. They don't
need licenses just an adult to
supervise them. I've been taking
my kids for years and we have had
some very successful hunts.

This year was Jenny's last and Stuart's
first. Jenny has gotten short straw
many times either because she was
crowded out of the blind by her
more numerous older brothers or
sickness. She had yet to kill
a duck beyond finishing off one
of her brother Jim's cripples.

Here they are the night before
making sure they had all their
camo.



Today, was to be special. We
were first pick at the WMA and
my G2 was very good. I had a
spot where there were a lot of
ducks (mostly ringers and bwts)
and they were decoying ducks.

I was up a mite early and found
out that the two of them had
been too excited to get much sleep
the night before. The weather
was supposed to be 37 and very
windy. It actually came in at
47 and windier. At first, I was
disappointed that the weather
wasn't a little cooler, but the
wind chill more than made up
for it. It was parky to say
the least.

Still, the boat ride out was
uneventful other than the
usual problems of the boat
lights failing. But, a three
million candle power Qbeam
kept us on course and others
away.

I scouted around our draw as
best I could, but a patch of
hydrilla laced with shotshell
wads became our final destination
I put the ringers to one side with
a bunch of coot decoys and some
bwts and even fewer coots to
the other.

Here are the ringers.


With the strong north west wind coming
off our right shoulders, the ducks
should break down right in front
of us and head for the dekes.
It actually worked for once.

The day started promising with a
lot of ducks zinging by. When
legal light came, we had to wait
a bit but started getting some
opportunities. Several small
groups came across the spread
and a least five separate times
they landed in the dekes. The
kids put up a lot of shots. The
ferric content of the reservoir
must be at an all time high.
Still, contact wasn't happening.

Stu in the boat.

And in action.

Jenny taking her shots.



Jenny was just coming off a nasty
cold and her blood sugar got way
high. She adjusted her pump, but
felt too poorly to continue. She laid
down in the boat for a while.

After a bit, a coot landed near by.
I told Stu to shoot it and get some
practice cycling the Mossburg 20.
Boom, boom and he had his first
kill.

Jenny rallied, ate a sweet and
salty and rejoined the hunt.

A large group of ringers came
flying over the decoys and past
the back of the boat. Stuart swung
on it and nailed a beautiful drake
on his second shot.

What's that in the water? A
first duck?


Sadly, Jenny didn't rally enough to get one of her
own. Still, we had a wonderful, exciting day.

Back at the ramp.


A happy little boy.


Some of my duck calling worked. Since that
and encouraging the kiddies was my job, I
came away very happy with the day.

ofs

Not With a Whimper, but a Bang!

11 duck grand finale

Season's over. We had some good days,
but it wasn't last year's 99 duck haul.
The local WMA was down 2,00o ducks
over last season. I actually lost count
of how many we got cause it just didn't
seem to matter. I think I killed more
snipe this year than ducks.

Still, today turned out pretty good.
We hunted the TMG reservoir. I
picked a spot where I had seen ducks
last week. But, last week was last week.
They did not want to land where we were.
All but two of our birds were passing shots.
The only two decoying ducks didn't even land
in the decoys, but we swatted them anyway.

Dave and Jim waiting for sunrise in the boat
blind.

And, there's the sunrise behind us.

Watching, waiting, and whistling.



The strange thing was that last week
we were covered up in fulvous whistling
ducks (limit one per hunter). Today,
it was reversed and we were surrounded
with black bellied whistling ducks (limit
six per person). Over and over, the bbwds
would rise from the forbidden felony-to-
hunt-in zone to the west of us, fly in
huge circles around us, and then relight.
I picked off two from a couple of groups
that came nearby. It was darn nigh
close to skybusting, but they dropped
very dead. The problem was that these
noisy birds were in such big groups
that the three of us couldn't compete
with our little whistles. It wasn't until
a group of three were out there that
we turned them and they came right
over us. It was a Duck Commander
"Cut 'em all, Jack" moment. We
each whacked one. I finished my
limit with three blue wings. Dave
had a bwt and a ringer in addition
to his bbwd. Jim had another season
ending mountable drake bwt (his
third) to go with his bbwd.



Given that some folks came in
with no ducks from some of the
more productive wading areas
of the WMA we felt pretty good.

Dave shot this video of us picking
up ducks. We had them spead in
a 40 yard radius 270 degrees
around. We had no cripples and
found all of our birds. No gators
or cottonmouths today, but a
lot of fun. Sadly, my little
digital camera does not pick
up sound. You can briefly
see where we were blinded up
where there is a patch of
palmetto fans and hulls laying
in the water (we picked them
all up later).



ofs

It Coulda Been Worse

Tough hunt today. I fretted and puzzled
about where to hunt all week. No
one hunted the reservoir last week but
I was second pick for a draw and wanted
to hunt out of the boat. I didn't want
a repeat of the blood pressure medicine
test that last week's wade gave me. So,
I decided on the reservoir.

I had planned to take Dave and Jim
with me and invite Cannon to hunt
too. Cannon wouldn't have been
able to hunt out of out boat, so
I offered to tow his pirogue out.
But, at the last minute, Dave got
called in to work and his seat
opened up.

I woke up an hour early and did
crosswords until 2:45 AM when
I got Jim up. We got started
well, but things fell apart when
Jim figured out he'd left his
license at home. No hunt
for him. He would be on
observer status. Just as
well we didn't try to brass
it out; the federales were
all over the check station.

At the check in stand they
asked me if I would let a
couple of guys fill up the
other two slots on our draw.
I said sure and was introduced
to Blaine and Brian - a couple
of real great guys. They had
a small jon boat with an out
board. They also had a dog.
I offered to tow them out, but
suggested they leave the outboard
and dog behind. Too much
hydrilla for the motor and too
many gators for the dog.

We got both boats launched,
but my battery wouldn't work.
I fell back on the pull cord.
Usually that is a bear. Instead,
it started easily on the first pull.
In fact, it started so easily that
I lost balance and knocked both
my hat and head lamp into the
water. I tried to grab them by
steadying myself with the back
light of the boat (which I finally
had working). It snapped clean
off. I retrieved the hat and
the lamp - mumbled a word
or two I shouldn't have and
started the tow out. We got
stuck in the mud and had
a little trouble getting free,
but finally got headed out.

I dropped Blaine and Brian
off at a spot I thought might
work well for them and headed
to a grass island I had seen on
a previous hunt. We got the
decoys out, jammed the boat
in the island, and camoed up.
Unfortunately, the island was
a floating island and the palmetto
fans we had cut ended up a trifle
short. Our heads stuck out.

When shooting time came, we
had lots of birds around us but
none decoying. The passing
shots came zinging through
on the pretty stiff breeze. There
were scores of fulvous whistlers
in the air. I managed to hit a
drake that came by. Cannon
had to wait longer for his, but
got his first fulvous ever as the
10 o'clock duck. It took us
all morning to finally get to
four ducks apiece with three
lost ducks. Here are mine:



I got out of the boat to do retrieves
and fiddle with the decoys any
number of times. Once I tripped
and twice I hit pot holes that
brought some very cold water
over and into the waders. I
was soaked.

At the end of the hunt, we took the boat
though all the spatterdock (big green
leaved plants in the above picture) looking
for our cripples. At one point Jim was
laying on the front of the boat moving
leaves out of the way to improve his
view. He let out a shout and jumped back;
he almost grabbed a gator by the nose.
We figured that Mr. Gator had already
retrieved the downed teal.

We met Blaine and Brian and started
the tow back in. As we got to the
final cut through in a reed wall,
Jim yelled out, "Look at that
cottonmouth!" I just got a glimpse
of it as we sailed by. Quickly, I
cut the engine and yelled for
Blaine to shoot it. Since they
were drifting in the direction
of the snake, they were
incentivized. He jumped up
and I watched him fire. Brian
said, "That thing was huge......
.........Shoot it again!."

Then we were back to shore and
done for the day.

Mud and the Blood and the Bozos

We were first pick at the WMA. The G2
was very good on the spot I wanted. The
boys biked the area on Thursday and
filed their reports. They spotted Blue Wing
Teal as well as a large group of Black
Bellied Whistling Ducks. The four of us
would have 40 prime acres all to ourselves.

Things would be rosy. Since the duck hunting
has been poor, the check in stand was not
nearly as populated as it has been in the
past. We got our selection, put our gear
on the "hay ride," and waited to be taken
to our drop off. The weather came in 6
degrees warmer than had been predicted
and was going to rise to the mid 70s. I
decided to hunt in only a long sleeve shirt.
The boys all had jackets of sorts.

After we were dropped off, we walked
down our levee for about two thirds
of a mile, cut into the impoundment,
and then cut across another third of
a mile to the far side. The mud was
thick and pot holes abounded. Craig
found out that his waders had a nice
hole in them. Still we found the place
we wanted in the northeast corner of
our draw. Rob has identified a nice
clump of brush to hide in. The
picture is looking back at the blind
from where I had the decoys.

Here (from where I was sitting) are Craig and Rob. Jim was
visible to the naked eye a little farther down, but I
can't find him in the picture. We were well-covered
up. What helped was that we were set up in a drop
off. The area in front of us was shin deep, but in
the blind, we were almost waist deep.



I only put out four teal decoys and the mojo.
After a bit, I pulled the mojo in.

The time before shooting time was full of
the sound of whistling from tons of black
bellied whistling ducks. They are the
noisiest ducks of all. Fulvous ducks are
a close second.

Of course, they all cleared off by legal
light. Well, almost all of them cleared off.
At shooting time, we saw movement in the
dollar weed to our right. Craig thought
they might be water rats, but it was three
black bellies running through the weeds.
I whacked the one that was most visible,
but the other two disappeared. After
that, everything went cold. There was some
shooting all around us, but we didn't
have anything nearby.

Part of the problem was that some
new hunters to the area were in the
impoundment to our north. They
decided to ignore their assigned
impoundment and the rule forbidding
shooting off the levees. Two of them
were in front of us firing into our
impoundment. I didn't see them
drop any birds, but I did see two
cormorants fly over them and
then have to flair when a bunch
of shots rang out. I finally waded
near them and tried to warn them
off, they either didn't hear or
ignored my warning.

At around 9Am, the world changed.
The sky was suddenly full of dozens
black bellies flying in large groups
and all of them whistling. We got
on our whistles and tried to reach them.
We succeeded in pealing off three
from behind us. As they came up
on our left, Jim and I each dropped
one. It was a new species for Jim.

A little later, a group of five
bwt came straight at us and a little
high. Craig thought they were too
high, but I whacked one and then
forgot to shoot at the others as
I watched the slow helicopter
crash of the one I did hit. It seemed
to take forever. Really cool.

Craig dropped a black belly
out of a pair that came from
behind us too.

As we sat there, wishing the
snipe flying by were teal. Craig
saw two birds coming low, slow, and
straight at us. I wanted to believe
they were ducks, but they sure
were trying to look like coots.
But, they were ducks. A nice
pair of mottles. I dropped the
hen and Rob hit the jumbo drake.
The drake (the nasty pervert) was
a very mature bird. My hen was
quite immature. Ah, ducks are
nasty beasts.

We had to pack it in to catch
the 11AM ride back to the check
station. As we slogged our way
out, we saw the guys who had
been poaching our impoundment
try and enter our impoundment.
Little did they know there is
a twenty foot deep canal on
the north side of every im-
poundment. The boys saw one
of them "float his hat" and have
to get pulled out. Picture
me sniggering like Mutley.

I probably shouldn't have
sniggered; I hit a pot hole on
the wade out and got some
water over the waders. Wow,
that was a tough, tough wade.

Here we are on the levee waiting
for our ride.


The bbwd is dead, but it was a cool pic.



We got home took pictures of
the whole take

The bbwd is one pretty bird. Their beaks and feet
are bright pink, but the color fades quickly once
they are dead.


They also have a huge wing span. This
one was 35 inches.


Here's my bwt for comparison.


Then, we got to picking. (Earlier hunt pick picture.)


And, had a big grill out.


Not the best hunt every, but an exciting day.

ofs

The Serpent in the Garden

Tuesday, we were still waiting for Craig's
snow-delayed flight from Moscow, Id.
Rob and I decided to try a walk-on hunt
at our favorite wildlife management area.
The hunting there has been well down from
previous years, so we figured we had a good
shot. Instead, we were the eighth car in line
but ended up tenth pick and that tenth pick
wouldn't even start until all the folks who out-
ninjaed the on-line reservation system got
their choices. Things didn't look too good.

Matt, one of the WMA's biologist saw me
standing there and said he had a draw with
two open slots and would Rob and I like
to join him and Jamie another wildfowl
biologist. "Oh yes and thank you!" We
actually got to choose an impoundment
that I was surprised was still available.
We got some good G2 on where to hunt
and were off.

Getting into the impoundment was
tricky. There was a heavy brush line
that bordered the levee. We walked
until we found a small trail down into
the water. (Hmm, was it from previous
hunters or a gator trail?) Down off the
levee and into the dark black water.
For the most part, the wade was knee
deep water, but the bottom was crusted
mud that occasionally gave way and
dropped another couple of feet. Extricating
this fat man from that really tested the
blood pressure medicine. Rob, a
Legolas-like elf, effortless skittered over
the top of the mud.

By the time we got to where we would
set up, the projected 20 mph wind had
died and I knew I wouldn't need my
hunting jacket. I peeled it off and hunted
with a long sleeve tee shirt. I only put
out 8 or 9 teal, a few pinners, and the
mojo dove. Those were all the decoys
we needed.

Waiting for legal light was nerve wracking.
I've been covered up in ducks before, but
never quite like this. We had them landing
all around us. They all were calling: teal
drakes and hens, widgeon, mottles, fulvous
whistlers, and black-bellied whistlers. When
the shooting time came, things were fast
and furious. Unfortunately, Rob's shot
gun wasn't cycling and was only giving him
the single shot offering. After I had four
teal, I swapped guns and places with him.
He started dropping teal. And, I even
managed to round out my limit with his
gun (the ducks were that close - it wasn't
skill). Matt and Jamie had things a little
slower but were killing birds too.

Matt was on duty that morning and had to
head in early to drive the pick up wagon.
Jamie moved over and joined us. Things
slowed down a bit, but were still fun. We
decided to hold out for the 11:00 pick up.
By 9:45, Jamie was thinking of calling it
quits. I told him of the success we had
had in waiting for "The Ten O'Clock Duck"
in the past. As 9:59 a huge group of blue
wings came zinging in. Jamie got one
and Rob got two. We had ringers and
spoonies take looks at us, but it ended
up mottles and teal. Rob would have
limited, but one cripple got under the
weeds.

The wade back in was exhausting. The
wind finally did pick up, but the mud
seemed to break even easier. Rob
and Jamie decided to take a short
cut up the levee through the thicker
brush but I opted to wade over to
our original path. On the way up
there, I saw the middle of a large
black snake with green spots cross
directly in front of me. It kept
slithering, but I never saw either
end. At first, I didn't think it was
a cottonmouth. After all, they don't
have green spots, but I eventually
realized it was duck weed. I reached for
a shell, but I had given them all to
Rob. I had to quickly back out and
get another path up.

It was a great day.




We picked Craig up and got him home
from the airport about midnight. We
slept in, but got up and shot snipe
on Thursday. We did okay for hunting
as late in the day as we did.

ofs

First Limit

Friday was closed to duck hunting, but
snipe were still open. I went out on the
St. Johns River to do some scouting for
Saturday's second phase of duck season
and to whack a few snipe.


There were only two folks on the marsh:
the sheriff's deputy that checked my
license and me. He was real decent
and let me sit on the side of his airboat
and puff for a bit. We chatted and then
he headed off.

I hadn't gotten snipe one up to that
point though there were tons around.
I finally decided that it was the blaze
orange shooting vest I had on. Although
there wasn't anyone else around to mistake
me for a snipe, I also thought it might
be a good idea to have it on in case the
heat and/or exertion got to me and I
ended up face down in the mud. Still,
the snipe were seeing me a hundred
yards out and bolting. I ditched the
vest and put a camo jacket on that
had pockets for shells and birds.
That seemed to do the trick and things
picked up. The only problem was that
the day was over seventy degrees, sunny,
windless, and I was wearing neoprene chest
waders. I needed to be in shorts and short
sleeves. As it was, I ended up drinking
7 bottles of water to keep from dehydration.


I would hunt a spot for a bit in as close
to a circular route as would bring
me back to the boat without having
to cover hunted over land. When
I covered that, I would pack up and
find another spot. I covered a lot
of really boggy ground. I spent a lot
of time shooting behind birds, but
I was picking up one or two at every
stop. There were times I flushed so
many that I didn't know which one
to point at. But, I didn't lose any
birds and found all but three of
my hulls from almost two boxes
of #7 12 gauge steel shells.


It was my first snipe limit ever
and maybe more fun than duck hunting.
I was glad that we weren't able to
get organized for duck hunting the
next day. I was too sore.


ofs

Pie Man Jim

This was the boat blind for Saturday's hunt.
Both boys are sitting in there.

It was a great spot, good decoy placement,
and no ducks. We ended up with a stray
green wing for Dave and a stray blue
wing teal for me.


We decided to go scout and maybe shoot a
few snipe. On a small island, we found this.

How it got there, we had no idea. We debated
what kind of goose it was and if it was legal
to shoot. I finally told Jim to take a whack
at it. The bird took off and flew to the far
end of the island. Now, this was an island
that had been shared with a whole herd
of cattle.

Jim decided to belly crawl up on the
goose to get a shot.


Closer

Almost there. But, it took off right as
he was closer. Turns out it was a blue
phase snow goose and very legal. We'll
never get another crack at one of those.


Jim will forever be known now as
Pie Man. We made him sit down
wind of us the rest of the day.

We decided to go shoot a few snipe.



This was the ultimate take.



And this was dinner. No more ducks in
the freezer.


ofs

The Big Gunns

Mike T. and John G. had two extra spots
on their Broadmoor draw last Saturday.
Cannon Kirby and I joined them. We were
able to get the spot that has been the
single best producer for me over the years.
For security reasons, that spot will
remain nameless.

The wildlife management area guys were
able to do some phenomenal work to
prepare this area for hunting given
the flooding from Tropical Storm
Fay 3 months ago.

The day started off badly. The lace
on my wader boots broke, the coffee
at the 7-11 was burnt, and I forgot a hat.
But, I restrung the boots, choked down
the coffee, and borrowed a hat from
John. Not to fear.

The morning was cool, not cold and
very still. There weren't a lot of clouds
either. As I said, the area was beautiful.
The walk on the levee was short and
our wade out uneventful because most
of the dreaded para grass had been
killed off. We found a large chunk
of reeds that we could both hunt in,
dropped off our stuff, and put out
the decoys. I had teal, pinner, and
Jim's new woody decoys in and
around a clump of smart weed.
We also both had mojo doves.
These are the bees knees.

We set up our stools, hid the decoy
sleds, jammed some palmetto fans
around us and settled down for
shooting time. Since sunrise was at
6:51, shooting time was 6:21. We
didn't have long to wait. A few
folks didn't wait that long at
all and were blasting away very
early.

It wasn't very long after legal
light that we were in the game.
I don't remember which of us
got the first duck - probably
Cannon, but I had one in the
decoys that I flushed and
whacked. After that it was
fast and furious. We had
birds coming from all angles
and in groups of all sizes.
It was awe inspiring. I've
had great days in the marsh,
but this was like no other.

Cannon had 4 teal and a ringer
and decided to hold off for
a big duck. After a bit, I saw
two mottles come in from my
left. They are so much bigger
than teal. Mike T. calls them
"flying footballs." But their
size is deceptive; they look like
they are flying slow, but they
are as speedy as teal. I whispered
to Cannon that they were coming.
They swung out wide and in
front, but one peeled off to
take a look at the spread.
Cannon dropped him like
a rock. An anchor shot to
mak siccar and Cannon was
done. But not quite. When he
retrieved the mottle, he started
woo hooing all over the marsh.
It was his first BANDED duck.

Days don't get much better than
that.

A few moments later, I finished
up 4 blue wings, 2 green wings,
and a ringer. All drakes (and that
not from skill).

Then, the sun came up. It was
quite a hunt.

Cannon took some photos:



Sunrise on the marsh:



ofs on a retrieve:



ofs and a fistful of ducks:


Cannon's picture:



ofs blinded up in full camo:


On the way out of the marsh, we kicked up
these ringers from a lake. I counted around
250 birds. Double click on the picture to get
a good view. All the black dots in the air
are ducks.


And, I killed a coot.

ofs