I suppose this story has it's roots several years back watching Justin Tackett and his dog Yella up in Maine. At that time, that very moment, I new that I had to go experience it for myself. Luckily, I didn't have to experience this alone. About 10 months ago, over beers at Old Venice, the trip got a jump start. Maybe it was the third or twelth beverage, of this I dunno, but I remember stating that one day, one very fine day, will see me hunting eiders over long lines on the bays of New Englad. Now, the person on the receiving end of that spill is a dreamer and more importantly, a 'doer'. I can only suppose that he tucked that conversation in his head, possibly making a few phone calls later on.....whatever it was, a week later, Double asked, "how serious were you about sea duckin?"
"Very" I replied in guarded enthusiasm.
"Well, here's what I've got goin right now"...............and the rest, as they say, is history.
History? Tradition?? Yeah, for a ducker, this area has it. From a working decoy shop
and the gunning blocks therein
and laying my eyes on something that not many get to see, an old "flap" that was attached to a New England bayman's "sink box"
to sitting around w/ the old salts and listening on baited breath to stories of storms and adventures on the open water
But, enough of that, we were there for long lines
and eiders
and, yes, I personally think these hens are beautiful.
And, finally, Atlantic Brant
to finish off a great GREAT trip.
A word on the quarry. For a lover a decoying birds, this is a MUST trip. Everything, as Ramsey stated, is hovering over water and groups measuring hundreds are the norm. To pick good, quality birds, you simply have to be on your toes and there must be a certain level of understanding among the group, elsewise, you can get in trouble in a hurry. Our hunts were fast and furious, no other way to describe them. A flock of 150-200 brant visited our "blocks" on the final morning like we were pulling them on a string, all the while, a raft measuring THOUSANDS was little more than 200 yards away. On the shot, this raft exploded into what could only be described as 2-3 football fields hovering overhead.
Much the same was experienced with the eiders.
Life List: Eastern shore eider hunting....................check, and mission accomplished.
I suppose like spirited individuals in which a love for a bit of adventure is tempered only by the fact that each understands there may be no tomorrow are bound to cross paths. Now, whether or not this is myself and Ramsey's last hunt together no one knows, but I don't think it won't be because we aren't planning on it.
Over lunch yesterday, Ramsey looked me over and asked a strange question, "why does this Alaska trip attract you so much?" I describe it as a question, but it was really a statement, because he already knew the answers.
Only time will tell, but ain't the future grand?
gator
