Christmas Break Duck Hunting

As is the theme this hunting season, free time is still sold at a premium for me. Trying to hunt when I can, in between work and helping with the two new babies in the house. But I had plans to try and slip out for a couple days after Christmas. In addition, with last minute plans coming through, my best friend Chris hopped on a plane from Canada the day after Christmas to visit for a week. He has always loved fishing, but he is not a hunter per se. Though over the many years we have been friends, he has acknowledged that to hang out with me involves a good amount of hunting, and he has warmed to it over time. I do know he really only enjoys it as long as he's comfortable, and dry. My company in itself does not sustain his desire to hunt in fowl weather, so I make my best effort to make sure he's happy, knowing he really only does it because he's a great friend. So after arriving in Memphis the night of the 26th, we quickly headed down to my hunting club in Mississippi, only stopping for some extra shells and the obligatory Chick-fil-a that he has fallen in love with in his visits to the south. Too amped up on good stories from our past to go to bed at a civil hour, we watched a movie late into the early hours, which resulted in a rude wake up from my alarm mere hours after finally passing out. Though the Mississippi winters pale in comparison to the Canadian prairie winters of Manitoba he's experienced his entire life, it was still below freezing for a change. This meant a decent layer of ice on the shallow flooded field we were hunting. My dad forgot something back at the lodge so he dropped us off with the 4 wheeler and headed back to grab it. Everything was locked up, so he wasn't anticipating much early anyways. Chris and I broke ice for 15 minutes, gently and deliberately sliding the biggest pieces under the edge of the hole we made as to make the most open water possible. Finally getting set up a few minutes after legal shooting time. The birds began to trickle in slowly at first. It quickly began to pick up as the birds spotted the only open water around and worked us beautifully. Singles and pairs early, and then the larger groups of Mallards and pintails later. Chris and I had our 12 ducks and 1 goose laying next to us in about an hour. They comprised of mallards, gadwall, teal, a pintail and the speckle belly that flew a little to low with his buddies. It was a fantastic first morning of the trip and Chris stayed warm and dry, so he was plenty happy. My dad arrived and the birds were still complying with our spread and calling, and my dad picked up a couple more greenheads and a bull pintail while Chris and I checked out a new spot we hadn't hunted yet.

The next day it would just be me and Chris hunting the morning of the 28th as my dad hunted with one of his friends. It also brought everything Chris hates about hunting, cold wet weather. We had pouring rain and 10-15 mph winds right off the bat. Thankfully it wasn't below freezing, but still nothing he would go out in if he wasn't such a good sport. To top it of, the birds were very shy. The cloudy skies made it easy for the birds to spot us in the limited cover we had on the bank. The wind was at our back and the birds would work beautifully until, like clockwork, would veer off right as they came to about 60 yards. My pup Brook got some great work though. The longer shots we were forced to take made for long retrieves. Of which she made flawlessly. I was a very proud papa. One susie that drifted out 200 yards into a muddy plowed field, and I sent Brook out on a long blind retrieve. I stopped her on the whistle approximately at the distance I was guessing she landed. I motioned and yelled 'over' to my left. She was on her almost immediately after catching the scent. I was especially surprised by this, not because of what she is capable, but because of how little I've worked with her in between now and last season. She is only 1.5 years old and I trained her myself having never done so before. She made several other fantastic retrieves on birds that landed in thick cover, where their recovery would have been near impossible without a good dog. We ended up with 9 ducks (gadwalls, wood ducks, teal, and a couple mallards) and 1 speckle belly goose I called in, and one friend who was wet enough by 9am that I didn't want to make him suffer through any more just to get 3 more ducks. Due to the pouring rain, we never got a picture after the hunt, but the memory of my dog won't be easily forgotten. The last morning, Chris decided to stay in bed since he had been feeling crumby all week, and figured a decent sleep was probably needed. So my dad and I hunted together. The sunny skies that were called for never materialized, and again the ducks did not want to finish, and if it weren't for a first 20 minutes of the hunt being good shooting, the hunt would have been a bust. Even with the 20mph winds, the ducks just weren't moving, and the few that were, didn't like whatever we had to offer. We called the hunt a bit earlier than normal right around 8am. My dad and I ended up with 7 ducks total, 5 being gadwalls, 1 teal, and one mallard. It ended up being the best day of the three for Chris to choose his bed over a pair of waders to be in. Brook again did great and occasionally complained when we let ducks with with boot lips land in the decoys while waiting to see if the wary mallards circling high above us would comply.