We all know people who seem to come along on days when the hunting is less than stellar. When it happens once or twice, it's no big deal. Somewhere along the way, the number of occurrences suggest that it is not a coincidence! I have known a couple of guys who at one point carried the moniker: Albatross or Jinx! There was one fellow named Mike who is basically a good hunter and a very good guy, but whenever he was a part of the hunting expedition it flopped. It got to the point that someone would volunteer that Mike was going, and everyone got quiet and looked at each other. No one said it, but everyone was thinking it, "Oh, this trip is going to suck!" To illustrate how bad his luck is, a mutual friend invited Mike hunting. Mike said that he could not be there at shooting time, but he would be along soon thereafter. Our friend shot six ducks early that morning, but after Mike showed up there was not a duck to be seen!
There have been cases where the "curse" has been lifted! My friend, Steve, is a prime example. Many years ago we embarked on a Lake Erie hunt. Larry said, "the shooting has been so good out here that not even 'Stevo' can screw it up!" So off we went. It was a typical December day. It was insanely cold and windy and ice was forming on everything. We got the spread set up, and tied the boat off to a cable that was strapping a tire to the wall. The lake was rough, but we managed to use the cable to assist us in safely getting out of the boat.
We were barely out of the boat with guns loaded by shooting time. We stood silently, not a duck in sight. "Wow, Larry we had ducks in the water by now just a few days ago. I see nothing." No reply was needed, but just to address the elephant in the room, Larry responded with, "Ya, but we didn't have Ol' Stevo with us!" We chuckled, but I could tell that Steve really didn't think it was funny. Several observations were made as a flock of sea gulls approached."Here comes Steve's limit!"I could
not refrain from piling on with the fun at Steve's expense. By this time we were all laughing and having a good time. Suddenly out of nowhere came a small flock of blue bills. The two double barrels erupted and I followed suit. On my third shot I was slightly off balance and the recoil put my straight down. I was standing on ice. I did not realize how much ice had accumulated since we began. Larry and Steve made their way to the boat as we had put a hurt on the group of divers. We had several more flocks cup and cruise in shortly after that. We had been too busy to notice, but it suddenly occurred to me that the ducks were coming in and Steve was with us! I did not dare jinx the lifting of the curse (all in fun I assure you) by saying something out loud. It was not until we were done for the day that Larry made it official, "Stevo finally broke the curse!" Let me tell you, Steve was quite pleased to have that monkey off of his back.
Steve wasn't half as happy as I was. I hate getting "skunked". As much fun as we had together, that would ruin it, but not the only way to ruin it. We still had to make a safe exit. Larry warned us as we approached the boat, "Now there is ice all over everything so be extra careful getting in the boat." The good news was that we had an upgrade in our hunting boat. Larry's dad and I split the cost of a fifteen footer that was bigger in all dimensions than the little twelve footer in which we had risked our lives. Steve was first. He grabbed the cable and skillfully timed his move into the boat with the crest of a wave. Next it was my turn. I grabbed the cable and waited to time my step into the boat with the crest of the next wave. However, I didn't quite time it right. I had to pull myself back onto the tire and cable and wait for the next crest. I was almost beyond the point of being able to return, but I was hanging by a thread. As the boat rose the next time, I stepped down onto the seat and "whirl"! It all happened so fast it was a blur, but my foot had slipped and my backside landed in the rear of the boat by the gas tank. I looked up to see Steve literally perched up on the bow like a cat. His feet were on the tip and he was holding on to the gunnel less than 12 inches from his feet! He was ready to spring back up on that wall should I have capsized the boat. I believe my comment was, "My ass is wet, and I don't even care!" Steve could not have picked a better time to bring good fortune to a hunt!
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