A Duck Hunter was Born!

My college roommate and close friend, Larry, invited me to go duck hunting at the Edgewater Park break wall in Cleveland. I had heard his stories and the passion in describing the various Lake Erie waterfowl hunts. I always enjoyed hunting and couldn't wait to go!

My Dad gave me an old olive drab army parka that smelled like moth balls. It was as heavy as a bag of cork decoys, but it was fur lined and warm as toast. I already owned a pair of wool socks. I bought a pair of heavy camouflage gloves and a brown "duck hat". I had a model 37 Ithaca 12 gauge pump that I used for squirrel and pheasant hunting, and a couple of boxes of "high brass" number 6 shells. My friend said that would work just fine.

I should mention that these were days before steel shot, Gortex, Thinsulate, and Thermax, etc.  

I arrived at his house at 3:30 AM. I was so excited that I could hardly contain myself. Larry gave me duck calling lessons in the truck on the way to the lake. At the conclusion of my first lesson, he informed me that I was not to call at any ducks under any circumstances. He added, if anybody asks who taught you how to call, not to mention his name! Good natured ribbing of course, and yes I sounded like a sink donkey with whooping cough! He failed to mention the fact that we didn't need to call to diving ducks. 

We arrived at his Dad's business at 4:30 in the morning. The first thing I noticed was the unmistakable smell of cut wood mixed with the pungent odor of dead fish. Larry’s father had a tree business and we were right next to a channel that connected us to the Cuyahoga River. It was dark and noisy from the sound of heavy equipment at the distant loading docks. We had work to do. We needed to get the boat on a trailer and get it to the water's edge. Decoy bags, line, spreader, and a box of decoy anchors had to be rounded up. Next we had to get the motor and gas tank in the boat. You may imagine my surprise when I saw "the boat". It was a 12 foot row boat! It was smaller than the boat my Dad and brother and I used to troll for walleyes on Lake Milton. Well, OK I thought with blind faith, how bad could it be?

That was a question that I should never have asked! Soon, we were in the little dingy headed out the slip for the lake. I nearly choked as I got a face full of smoke from a tug boat heading up river. I did not realize how big tug boats really were! It made our boat look even smaller, if that were possible. Almost as soon as we hit the river we felt the boat rise up and down as the swells were forcing their way upstream from the lake. Within minutes I saw a railroad trestle. As we approached the bridge, Larry yelled out "I am going to yell duck and gun the motor. When I do, keep your head down!" As he finished talking we were on the crest of a wave. Any sane person could clearly see that this boat, or any other boat for that matter, was not going to fit under that trestle! Just then, as we were dropping down into the trough of the next wave, he yelled something and gunned the motor! The boat went surging under the bridge. As we were coming out from under it on the other side, I realized how close this was going to be! I practically laid down in the bottom of the boat to keep from being smashed as the boat rose with the next wave! "Had it all the way, buddy!" my friend chuckled. It was about then that I sized up the waves and realized that when in a trough, I could not see anything but smelly lake water! When the boat reached the next crest my heart stopped! What a gruesome sight! We could see the city lights from Cleveland as they illuminated the break wall, the loading docks and rocks on either side. But straight ahead looked like DEATH itself! It was pitch black! It looked like the world ended just beyond the break wall. NO light, no stars, nothing, and to make matters worse when I looked up I could see the blackest clouds ever.  I was sure we were in serious trouble! What were we doing here? With the gap in the break wall lying straight ahead, it looked like we were going right into the jaws of Hell!

As if all this wasn't bad enough, the motor sputtered and stopped. The waves were pushing us back into the rocks.  "ROW, MAN, ROW! “ Larry screamed at the top of his lungs. I grabbed the oars and started rowing white knuckled with every ounce of strength I could muster. At the same time, Larry was pulling the rope on that motor like his life depended on it! I could not make any headway. I began to pray. Just as the boat was about to be smashed into the rocks, the motor started and we darted ahead. We moved barely enough that the next wave failed to throw us against the pier! Just made it by the skin of out teeth.

We were on our way again. I sheepishly asked if we should turn around. My friend asked with the greatest sincerity, "Do you REALLY want me to try to turn this boat around in these waves?" My silence was his answer. "Our best chance is to get behind that wall and wait out this storm!" 

It seemed like forever, but we made it to the wall. As we approached, we decided that since we were out there, we may as well hunt. One problem, neither one of us put the box of decoy anchors in the boat! That mistake was second only to getting in the boat in the first place! We tied off and got up on the wall. Larry tried to cheer me up by telling me that we would probably get some pass shooting. We were right on the end of the west wall, and birds did fly by. However, there were not many in range. The guys down the wall a couple of hundred yards got some good shooting. I wandered down that way to ask for a light for my hand warmer. After sharing the horror story of our trip out, they were gracious enough to invite us to hunt with them. 

Nearly an hour later, three birds cupped in and my fellow hunters dropped all three. Larry quickly volunteered to go out with the boat owner and retrieve the birds. While the two of them were out, a flock of 20 "blue bills" came screaming into the spread. The other host yelled "take'em". I shot my first two ducks, and I was HOOKED! A duck hunter was born!

Summer drought may lead to a mallard drought!

I was all excited after reading the headlines about record duck numbers in North America. My duck hunting buddies were spreading the propaganda early and often. Great news, then I read the fine print. Apparently the eastern breeding grounds have lost significant wetlands due to the drought conditions. This has caused a poor mallard hatch. This is true not just for mallards, but golden eye and ring necked ducks as well. I am sorry for the golden eye and ring necked ducks, but let's face it, mallards are our bread and butter. Mallards,woodies, and teal make up the harvest for a majority of the hunters in the Buckeye state, and in that order. That can't be good for our bag limits this year either, gentlemen...and ladies. 

We have suffered through worse than this however. I recall three duck limits just two decades ago. Even further back when I started hunting waterfowl, we used the point system. Drake mallards were 35 points each. You were permitted 100 points per day, but you could go over on your last duck. A hen was 90 points! They really didn't want you to shoot hens. Wood duck populations were low, so they were a high point duck also. The most fun back then was going to Lake Erie to hunt "blue bills" (scaup). They were plentiful. We could take 10 per day! What a bonanza! We could hunt them on the break walls or from lay out boats. I remember taking two boxes of shells and hoping I didn't run out! Hitting the rascals was hard enough without having to break ice off of my gun and fight frost bite away from my toes and fingers! I recall standing on the break wall at Edgewater Park with the waves rolling over the first  wall and crashing into the second, sending icy spray all over my old army parka. Before long, the ice had built up on my coat sufficiently so that my body was protected from the frigid north wind. What fun!

Getting back to our current problem, there is some good news. Black ducks and green wing teal did very well. "So we have that going for us...which is nice." [for the Caddy Shack fans] Diving duck numbers seem to be unaffected. Well my fellow Ohioans, we may have to knock the dust off of those old diver decoys and head to big water. The truth is, whether the mallard numbers are there or not, real duck hunters will have fun. We will be out there enjoying the sunrise, the whistling of wings and the moans of anticipation from our retriever. There may be less meat in the pot, but there will be plenty of good times.

A BANNER YEAR FOR DUCKS!

It was December 23^rd, and a typically cold winter morning on Buckeye Lake. We arrived at the boat ramp at 4:30 AM hoping to arrive early enough to select a choice hunting spot. Our hearts sunk as we discovered two truck and trailer rigs already in the parking lot. The blame began to circulate as to whose fault it was that we were not there sooner! We worked quickly to back my Grizzly Tracker into the frigid water, in spite of the ice left on the ramp by our competition. The electric start Johnson outboard groaned a bit, but eventually fired up and we were buzzing our way across the lake. With the cold temperatures and a forecast for record duck numbers, we were anticipating a plentiful harvest of ducks and geese.

We were doing well that second season, averaging about three birds per gun. However, we had not experienced that special hunt when it “rains ducks” and bag limits are filled by nine o’clock or sooner. We were hoping this might be one of those mornings. Our neighbors north of Lake Erie were getting a significant cold front and accompanying snow squall.  

As we turned the corner to observe our favorite stretch of shore line, we were shocked! There was not a boat in sight! We did not hesitate to pull up to our “ace” spot and start throwing blocks and assembling the five mechanical decoys we brought. We were clueless as to where those other hunters went, but we were grateful it wasn’t here!  I was glad I picked up two of the new gadwall Mojos with the magnetic wings! It is so cumbersome trying to tighten the screws on those old wings in sub freezing weather! We towed the last Mojo stand in place, and headed for shore to tie off and get set up.

The Avery Quick Set blind went up with easy, so we figured there was time for one relaxing cup of coffee before shooting time. No sooner did the thermos lid turn than the air was filled with wing beats and soft quacks. Oh yes! This is just what we were anticipating! We could barely see the small flocks land in the spread and fly back out again, but it was exciting. My eleven month old yellow Lab, Gunner, could hardly contain himself. He was whining and shaking as his head darted back and forth at the birds in black silhouette who were flying all around. All the while, he sat on his perch near the dog dock at the stern, waiting for the first shot.

Much to my horror, when shooting time came the birds were gone! Not a feather in sight! I optimistically pointed out that the birds went out to feed and would be coming back. We waited. Thirty minutes later we were startled by four birds who screamed by the boat about ten feet away. They were there and gone in less than a heart beat. What were those my friend asked?  “I am not sure, but whatever they are they are coming back!”, I responded.  In they came and with two barks of my SP 10 accompanied by the twelve gauge of my guest, there were three birds in the water. Widgeon! 

drake widgeon

When Gunner brought the first bird back, I could hardly believe it. We shoot far too few Bald pate in this area. This was quite a treat. I shot quite a few in four trips to Texas, and we shot several in the marshes around Sandusky Bay, but we see very few in central Ohio.

All in all it turned out to be a good day, and a good season. Our numbers were not up tremendously, but we did kill a wide variety of birds. Along with the aforementioned widgeon and typical mallards, woodies, and teal; we also shot pintail, gadwall, ring necks, scaup, red head, cans, and shovelers. It was a good year for numbers, but even better year for species. The government is calling for another banner year for ducks. I don’t know if they are right, but I do know that Gunner and I will certainly be there to find out!  

Gunner and five ring necked ducks

a pintail between two drake mallards

Turkeys are a Worthy Opponent!

We know that we can only hunt waterfowl for about five months of the year!  That leaves plenty of time to repair rigs, update spreads, and hone our shooting skills. We can't leave out all the yarns that are spun at the local gatherings. Tall tales about the great shots we executed, I wish I had a dollar for every story about how someone,"…called those ducks right off their spread"! Who hasn't heard the stories about the seventy five yard duck who crumbled after one shot and fell so far it took a full minute to hit the water! Now, of course, I would never tell such tales! I prefer to use my time to pursue some other worthy opponent. 

Pheasants are a worthy game bird and so are grouse. The problem is there are very few grouse in Ohio. The team work with my dog makes pheasant hunting a special experience. The challenge of turkey hunting however, is an excellent test of any waterfowl hunter's diversified hunting prowess. Ben Franklin proposed that the turkey should be our national symbol. Anyone who has ever hunted the ghosts of the hardwoods understands why! Turkeys are a cagey lot, but occasionally, a seasoned waterfowl hunter like myself manages to harvest one of these magnificent birds. Ohio has turkeys in nearly every county now. A friend of mine actually hunted birds just outside of Cleveland!

Turkeys do not have to be monsters to make for an exciting hunt. I have had jakes come in to my decoy gobbling and in full strut. It was enough to make my heart pound with excitement. The bird in the pictures is a twenty four pound beauty with an eleven inch beard, and 1 3/8 inch spurs. 

Not every turkey that I have harvested is of these behemoth dimensions, but every one was special. A turkey is definitely a worthy opponent. Since we can't hunt ducks in the spring, it’s OK to have another passion. The ducks won't mind!

Displaying your Mounts.

One of the greatest moves that I have made in my married life was to take my wife to Bass Pro Shops in Rossford, Ohio. She loved it! I told her all the way up about all the mounts, the fish tank, and how interesting it would be for her. I never dreamed that she would like it as much as she did! We spent the customary two and a half hours looking around, and spent too much money. She WAS really impressed with the mounts. She was so impressed, that she brainstormed ideas on how we could display "our mounts" better on our way home!  She bought the artificial cattails and vine, and picked out the paint for the wall. Well, you know who, had to climb up there and do the painting, etc.  I really didn't mind. I was actually excited to see my wife embrace the mount display, and allow them to come up out of the basement! I have nine birds mounted, but these five are all she wanted for now.

As you may be able to see in the second picture we have added some decoys.I am not quite ready to turn her loose in the rec. room, but I do like this display. Who knows fellas, maybe your wives could liven up your mounts!