My thought on a shorter season , and a story.

[Wildfowler]

I love to hunt as much as the rest of us, and I am all for conserving and supporting our resource. I support a season based on whatever the current waterfowl population can handle. I don’t know if the waterfowl population counts are accurate, but I’m sure the FWS is doing the best they can with the resources they have. Unless someone can show them a better way to count the population, I’m going to be satisfied with whatever they set. If they say the duck count says we can get 60/6, I'm all for that. If we only get 30/3, I'm all for that too. 80/8, or even 10/1. What ever they give us, I'm still going to do whatever I have to, to get to hunt for virtually all of total time that we are allotted. That's what’s most important to me in life, just getting out there and enjoying it. Now if you have a moment, I would like to share a story from several years ago.

A very memorable hunt for me occurred on the opening day of duck season some 10 or 11 years ago. We were right in the middle of several years of restrictive duck seasons and I was the guest of a husband/wife hunting duo, invited to a hunt in a Coahoma county cypress swamp.

This was my first time to hunt at this club and our recent arrival allowed just enough time for a “dark-thirty” trip to the brake where we would be hunting the next morning. This visit provided our first glimpse of what would be in store for us the next morning. For silhouetted against the pale hues of the fading evening sky were hundreds of Mallards. We rejoiced while watching what looked like thousands of mosquitoes now swarming above the jagged cypress canopy. The chorus below, deep within the blackness of the swamp, sounded like thousands of ducks calling up to the hundreds of waterfowl still trying to find their way home to roost.…… Cheers!

I’ll admit, I was expecting a to be set up well in advance of the crack of dawn the next morning. It’s all I ever knew to do. That’s how I thought you were supposed to duck hunt. Get up at 4 am, trudge through the swamp in the dark, and sit there for an hour so you could be ready for that first duck to come in at precisely ½ hour before sunrise. I must say that I was disappointed when we didn’t even make it to the boat launch until after first light. Why were we bringing this woman with us anyway? All I could do was hope for the best, knowing full well that we had just missed our opportunity to limit out on opening day. Other hunters were already shooting, and from the sound of it, well on their way to filling their limits. I was mad, because I always had to be set up early. That’s what I was used to. And on opening morning, we blew it.

My host, seeing my disappointment, offered me reassurance by stating that this swamp was always much better once the sun climbed high above the trees. He went on to say that those other guys just don’t get it. We continued our ride down the boat canal and into the brake.

Rounding that turn into the swamp was like passing through the Pearly Gates directly into Heaven. Suddenly my eyes were filled with ducks. Ducks were everywhere! I just couldn’t believe how many ducks there were in this swamp. Thousands of ducks seemed to be hidden away in the swamp. Every boat length that we motored forward produced a new eruption of Mallards from the behind the brush. I quickly realized that we hadn’t missed anything by being late that morning. I now concluded that we no longer late for the hunt. This was going to be a great morning!!

We eventually made our way through a thick grove of young cypress into a small clearing. A place that was unknown by the other club members at the time. This place was only accessible by Go-Devil and my host was the only member who owned one at that time.

We tossed out the decoys with no real purpose other than to leave an open area directly in front of where we were standing and also to fill in the far side of the hole to keep the ducks from trying to land too far away. By now the sun had almost fully risen, and the hole we were in had only a few more minutes left of being shaded from the morning sun. Looking up I saw only a few small wisps of clouds in the sky and I felt a light North wind on my face. These were perfect conditions. The only suggestion that I was given that morning was that “we like to take turns shooting”.

This was a concept that was totally unfamiliar to me because I had been hunting for the past ten years with a group of free-for-alls. If you didn’t shoot your duck while hunting with these guys, you could be assured that someone else would. The guys that I learned to duck hunt with are great men, but they always seem to be on an important mission to shoot as many ducks as possible, as quickly as possible. And so was I…

This morning, I was told that taking turns was their way of prolonging the whole experience. My hosts rather preferred to savor each moment than to accumulate high kill/time ratios. And during the recent short seasons, the moments you could actually spend hunting ducks were of precious few.

I regret to this day of my not keeping a better journal of the events of each hunt when I was younger. Because I don’t remember exactly what kind of ducks other than Mallards that were shot that morning. I only remember that we limited out. So whatever I report for the remainder of this story, may not be 100% accurate. But I promise that the story is drawn accurately to scale.

I took first watch and I had no problem with my first shot. It was an easy shot. One of those, in your face ten yard skillet shots. A small group of Mallards circled once and just dropped in, right in front of us. And if I remember correctly, I just couldn’t resist the chance to pull a double out of that group, and dropped another Greenhead before that flock of Mallards had completely left the scene.

As fun as that was, I was now faced with the reality of having a limit of Mallards five minutes into the hunt. So I politely stepped back to help with the calling, while watching my hosts alternate their shots. Group after group of Mallards, made their way into this hole. It was one of those mornings where we could do no wrong. There was really no need to shoot if the duck didn’t present itself just right, because a new group would be along soon enough. In fact, if the shot wasn’t just right, my hosts didn’t take the shot. I was amazed and intrigued by their restraint. We were well on our way to the limit.

A short while later, I had made my third sighting of Black Ducks ever in my life. A pair of them came right in. There was no chance that anyone would shatter that memory by shooting one of them. The pair of blacks stayed with us only a moment before they were off again. Soon after, I heard the squeal of Wood Ducks heading toward us. Not wanting to miss the chance to shoot again, I quickly resumed my post and neatly scratched down a drake Woody as they screamed by. My host also added an off duck to his strap. I now had my limit.

Mid-morning, we were greeted by the pleasant smell of hamburgers being fried up in a cast iron skillet. Thanks to my host’s wife's efforts, we would soon have some hot food sticking to our ribs on this cold morning. No sooner had she begun the process, a good-sized group of Mallards appeared overhead. They circled and were soon joined by another group of birds. They all circled. A few moments later more ducks came to join this flight. More and more ducks joined in. The ducks just kept appearing and continued to circle overhead. More ducks were now falling in from unbelievable altitudes to join up and became a part of this flock. There seemed to be no end to the number of birds that were multiplying above us. The sounds of the hamburgers sizzling back in the frying pan was quickly drowned out by the sounds of the wing beats and calls from the hundreds of ducks that had now accumulated overhead. We were witnessing the formation of what The Commander refers to as a “young tornado”. Then, without any warning, the sky above us became so full with Mallards that it could no longer support the weight of any more ducks. Thus signaling their decent into the swamp. All told, there were literally 450-500 ducks now fighting fiercely to make their way into this hole. It took several minutes to form, and seemed to take even longer to touch down. I felt the wind rush my face as the tornado fell through the trees. Some of the ducks opened their wings and parachuted straight down. Others scrambled frantically for their position on the water. The area left open in the decoys in front of us was quickly filled up with Mallards. They started landing in the decoys. Ducks were landing in the trees behind the decoys. They were landing in the trees behind where we were standing. There were ducks landing in the trees in front of the hole. Ducks were landing near the boat and some of them even landed near the dog. There were ducks that had just landed in the trees behind us, that now flew out of those trees searching for a new spot right in the middle of all this action. Those ducks just flew right past us!! All the ducks began jockeying for a better position in the middle of our hole, and they paid no attention to the sights and sounds of those hamburgers steaming away in the background. Neither did we.

This was the main event. I had never before seen anything like this. We all know that a mysterious force exists somewhere in the swamp. Ducks seem to be magnetized
to it. This force always seems to be located a few hundred yards away from your current position. Yet for whatever reason, we are sometimes reluctant to investigate the source of their attraction. By about 10:30 am that morning, this magnetism had aligned itself perfectly under the center of this hole where we had set up. We
were in the vortex, looking up!! It was quite a site to behold!!


The ducks were still coming in, looking for any place they could land. They just couldn’t get in here fast enough. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud with excitement. I just couldn’t contain myself any longer. I looked over at my host and saw that he too was loosing his composure. We were both grinning from ear to ear. Just then a hen landed a few feet from where I was standing. She was so closed to me that she splashed water on me when she landed, almost close enough to reach out and touch with my bare hands. I could have scooped her up in a landing net if I had thought to bring one with me that morning. But all I could really keep thinking about was that she and the other 499 ducks out there were perfectly safe from us as long as they stayed with us. None of us that morning had any desire to shoot at this point. We were all paralyzed with the emotion from this spectacular event that had just unfolded before us. To shoot now would require some sort of deep seeded hatred that I simply do not posses. And I firmly believe that such hatred does not even exist in mankind. To disrupt this moment would be an atrocity against nature. Luckily, my hosts shared the same beliefs as I. No one shot. We just continued to watch. The moment lasted forever. Time stood still.

This was great. But as suddenly as it began, it was all over. A silent alarm must have sounded. Something might have spooked just a single bird, and with a thunderous roar they all exploded out of the hole and out of the area. All this excitement occurred without even burning the hamburgers.

We spent the next several minutes reliving the excitement of the miracle we had just been a witness to. We were so caught up in the details of the recent events, that we didn't even notice to a new group of Mallards that were looking for the entrance to this hole they had just heard about. They succeeded and landed in front of the decoys in the near corner of the hole. This was not a picture prefect shot, and we certainly were not out for revenge by this time. Something must have spooked one drake from the group, because he jumped up. Only to quickly reposition himself right in front of me when he saw that the other birds didn’t fly up with him. When he jumped up that first time, he revealed something about himself that later proved to be very detrimental to his health. I looked back to my companions and began to say: “Hey! this duck has a……” BLA,BLAM!!! Before, I could even finish my sentence, both hosts simultaneously fired at this drake as soon as he jumped at the sound of my voice. Turns out this duck was wearing a band that I had seen just moments sooner. Had I not limited out so quickly that morning, I would be wearing that band today. Instead, my friend’s wife is wearing it. It was her first band.

That banded duck, ended one of the greatest hunts of my life. Full limits. But the best thing was that I had learned a whole new philosophy towards duck hunting. A concept that I quickly adopted as my own. No more, would I try to shoot at ducks as soon as they had caught a first glimpse of the decoys. I wanted to get them in close. I would now try to set up the perfect conditions so the perfect shots could present themselves. No more would I rush and scramble to get out so early. But rather, I’ll go where the ducks are going. No more, would I host a free-for-all style of hunting. I would become the good host. Offering to ferry my guests to the hunt. Prolonging the whole experience by alternating shots. A fresh cooked breakfast would become standard procedure from this point forward. I am glad I had realized at an early age that if you just adapt your plan of action to accommodate a short season, you can have a much more enjoyable overall experience. And I can’t thank the Good Lord enough for blessing me with the opportunity to hunt as often as our season will allow for.

I can’t wait until this season gets here. No matter what they decide to give us. I for one plan on making the most of whatever season we get. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[RLJames]

Great story...thanks !

[mississippi_duc_htr]

My only regret on reading your story was that I wasnt there with you to see all of it!!!!!! [img]images/smiles/icon_sad.gif[/img] I can however imagine the awe of seeing it though. Thanks for a great story [img]images/smiles/icon_wink.gif[/img]

[mallardchaser]

Great story..that and the duck hunting on tv last night; I can hardly take it.
Can't wait 'til the season.

[Wildfowler]

I haven't seen the show on TV that y'all are talking about. But I did see that amazing blind built at the base of the giant cypress tree, and it got me ta thinkin'.

That blind is too coooooooooooool!!

[peewee]

You can tell the season is sure getting closer.

[Hambone]

Wildfowler, excellent story. I'm glad that Mrs. Hambone and I had the chance to show you the right way to duck hunt...you weren't the first convert and we have had some since, but you certainly took to it well. After reading your story, I got out my journal and photo album and turned to the account of that weekend, which brought back some more memories. I got a picture of that pair of black ducks in the decoys, just before we let them swim away. We took another limit the next day, as well. The funny thing was that we only had 2 ducks by 10:00, but got ten more between 10:00 and 12:00. Another interesting thing was that in two limit shoots, we didn't take anything but drakes. It's amazing what taking your time and picking your shots can do for the quality of your bag. There was another shot of Mrs. Hambone in a fur hat, running the cooking stove, and you can see the non-duck-flaring hamburger smoke (pork chop smoke actually lures them, but we weren't ready to give all our secrets away on that first hunt). I found a picture of Crockett standing guard by a half-filled duck strap, his reddish-golden fur gleaming in the morning light and ready to retrieve the next duck...how I miss that dog! Those were great memories of the 1993-94 season opening weekend. We have shared many more since then, and I look forward to more, which can't get here soon enough....

[Canton_Coot_Killer]

My first hunt happened to be with Duckmen and his buddies.

They also take turns shooting which I didn't realize it then but now I see that it is the way to go.

I've gone with guys who just blast and blast and blast and it is not even fun in my opinion. It takes away from the hunt.

Of course I shot out of turn a couple of times but I quickly learned when I got cussed more than once! [img]images/smiles/icon_eek.gif[/img] I got thick skin though... [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]

I do remember hunting with Dan at one of their holes and he let me shoot probably 10 times it seemed before he took a shot.

I'm thinking..... this guy's crazy!!! [img]images/smiles/icon_eek.gif[/img] Why won't he shoot???

Well patience paid off for him because I finally killed one and he said the next one's mine.

Few minutes later, here he comes....Boom, dead duck, of course that damn duck had to be banded but I would have probably missed him anyway.

I did kill some more but the one I remember most is the pair I had that came in and I thought...I'm fixin' to get me a double....Boom first bird falling turn on the other one, cut some feathers but keeps on flyin'

I look from the blind to try and find my bird on the water and the duck was wedged by his neck in a v portion of a willow about 20 ft. in the air and stuck.

I did get him down though, shook that willow for about 5 minutes and the top of it broke.

Dan, we need to get together some this year since your partner has decided to go the way of the high filutin'.... Any hole but that one though, it's too hard for a fat boy to make that walk... [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]

[ August 01, 2002: Message edited by: Canton_Coot_Killer ]

[Wildfowler]

Hambone, I didn't want to call you by name, wanted to give you the opportunity to identify yourself with that hunt if you chose to do so. I'm glad you keep a good journal. Because, I thought long and hard about it and I thought it was the 92-93 season.

I too remember seeing those photos. And I was thinking about them yesterday. I sure was skinny back then. I also remember sharing my big block of MSU Edam cheese with Crockett, while watching you and the Mrs. shoot the ducks. He was a great cheese hound, wasn't he? I miss him too.

I also remember very vividly, making some magical sounds with my brand new Howard Harland call, that I had just received in the mail, about 1 hour before I was supposed to be at your house. But I wasn't going to make a peep on it out of respect for "your" hunt, until you invited me to.

Thank you for creating such a great memory!!

[injun_23]

Wildfowler .. thanks for one of the best posts I have read here at MSDucks. Your descriptions and retelling were up there with the stuff that made Nash Buckingham famous. The Hambones have found what this game is all about, in my opinion, and the really neat thing is they are willing to share with others. Your names will be added to the list of the many nice things I have found in Mississippi. Robbie Robinson

[RB]

Great story... made ya feel as if you were really there...You oughta be a outdoor writer.

[Hambone]

Hey, Injun 23, if you are as big of a fan of "Mr. Buck" as I am, you'll be interested to know that the scene of Wildfowler's story is not too far south of Beaver Dam Lake, where so many of the classic Buckingham tales took place.

[Haymaker]

Wildfowler,

That was one of the best posts that I have ever read. I really felt like I was there and could picture the days events and how you felt at various times throught what sounds like to be the hunt of a life time. When I develope your writing skills I may try to convey the feelings I felt on a goose hunt in Southern IL that to this day has been the best goose hunt I have ever been on.

Thanks for getting me ready for the season.

Darrell

P.S. What is the best way to cook in a boat? [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img] [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]

[Wildfowler]

The best way to cook in a boat is to buy one of those small portable gas grills. They run off of those propane cylinders. Not only can you grill on them, but you can also cook food in a small skillet right on the rack.

But cooking in a skillet is too much of a hassle anyway, just stick with the grill. They cost about 30 bucks. Best money you'll ever spend.

[CRAWDUCK]

What a great story. Now I can't seem to get back to work. Can't think of anything but DUCKS. Good thing the boss is out of town!