Finally - Mississippi Duck Opener

I like to think of myself as an upland game hunter who occasionally hunts waterfowl and big game.  Cheryl will be quick to point out that I haven't had a big game tag in 12 years and that I duck hunt more than anything else.  Of course she is right, but Mississippi doesn't have much, if any, upland game, and the duck hunting is supposedly pretty good.  Last year I hit the marsh 6 times and shot a total of 10 shells, harvesting two ducks.  Pretty pathetic, but better than sitting at home (although possibly not better than sleeping at home which is actually the more accurate comparison!)  Over the next three days I'm going to post about the first three days of my Mississippi duck season.  Our camera went swimming (and drowned!) on our last trip to the Spring River, so the pictures will be minimal.

The Stoke
The weekend before the duck opener I cruised down to the marsh I hunt to check out the water levels and see if I needed to bring my kayak, etc.  When I got there I was shocked.  The water was LOW, and there were ducks EVERYWHERE!  It looked completely different than the previous year.  I have to admit a bit of optimism crept through me, but I've been around the outdoors long enough to know that a lot can change in a week, and a bird on the pond is very different than a bird in my bag.

Friday, November 22 - Mississippi Opening Day
The forecast called for mostly cloudy skies with a chance of rain, but I awoke at 4:00am to patter on the roof.  "If I can get to my spot, it could be good!" I grabbed my gear I had prepared the night before and hit the road.  I was surprised to find only two other trucks in the parking area, so I excitedly grabbed my bag of decoys and started the hike.  There is a place where a creek dumps into the backwater that I hunted last year.  Last year the creek was shallow enough that people were driving four wheeler through.  This year it was deep, and it took me 20 minutes to find a small dam that I could cross.  Once across I made my way out into the marsh. 

As I walked I could hear ducks everywhere.  Every ten feet another large flock would get up.  The dark, drizzly sky was alive with the sound of whistling wings.  I found a knee deep area of the marsh with a small opening in the flooded grass and set up my 18 decoy spread.  I crept back into the bushes and called Cheryl, letting her know where I was in case the creek I had crossed came up in the rain and I was stranded on the island I was on.  Then I loaded my gun and waited for legal shooting light.

My little piece of paradise.  I was set up in the open water on the left, hiding in the flooded weeds.

At legal shooting light a group of hunters on the other side of the large marsh released the first volley.  At the sound of the gunfire THOUSANDS of ducks lifted off the marsh.  Within seconds I probably had 200 ducks in range.  It was amazing!  Of course I whiffed with my first three shells.  The next 20 minutes were insane.  I had ducks over my head constantly, and I frequently had a shell in my mouth as a group would come into the dekes while I was reloading.  Before I knew it I had 5 ducks down, but I was down to my last shell. You see, last year I shot a total of 10 shells, and since I have to pack in anything that I bring, I hadn't brought enough shells.  I needed to get up and try to find some of the ducks that I had crippled.  I figured I would use my last shell if a duck came in close while I was searching. 

I wasn't even halfway through my spread when a bird came in and put down the landing gear, moving from my left to right.  Knowing I just had one shell, I let it get close, lead it, and pulled the trigger.  The bird folded and splashed to the water!  Great shot, and my limit bird!  I was stoked.  Then I went over and found the bird, it was a coot!  Gosh dangit!  Oh well.  I had run out of shells in twenty minutes, and had taken some great birds.  It had been a great morning!  Now I had to find all of my birds.

The men.  A drake gadwall, mallard, and green winged teal.

I consider myself an ethical hunter.  Part of that means eating everything that I kill.  I can't stand losing a cripple - it drives me crazy.  On this morning, however, there were lots of people around, so I didn't feel comfortable shooting a cripple off the water, not knowing where the shot may end up.  There were also so many birds around that I didn't want to get up and give away my location too early.  I did my best to mark the birds when they fell, and promised to be diligent in finding them later.  Finding them turned out to be a bigger challenge than I had anticipated.

Two of the five ducks fell dead right in the middle of the decoys, and they were easy to find - a hen gadwall and my first ever drake mallard!  Another duck fell dead about 50 feet to my left, one fell in front of me and was still swimming, and there was a teal that I hit as it passed behind me.  I knew the teal would be hard to find.  It rocked when I hit him, but kept flying another fifty feet before locking up and going down in some 20 ft tall trees 100 yds behind me. I knew that he would be very hard to find.  I spent about 10 minutes looking each of the three downed birds, and couldn't find a single one!  I was very angry at myself.

I decided to go back to where I was sitting, and rethink the shots.  First I thought of the duck in front of me, and marked the last place I saw it and walked over to that spot.  Before I got there, there it was, dead in the water, about 20 ft short of where I had been looking.  I had a hen shoveler in the bag!  So I went back to where I had been shooting, and marked the direction the duck to my left had gone down.  Once again, there he was, a beautiful drake gadwall, about 20 ft shy of where I had been looking!  Now there was just the teal left.  I picked up my decoys, and sat in my blind, marking where I thought the teal went down.  I took off through the trees in that direction and about 75 ft in, there on the ground right in front of me was a beautiful drake green-winged teal!  I had found all my birds! 

The day's take.  Including my first ever drake mallard!

On the way out I called Dad and Cheryl to brag.  Dad said he was proud, and Cheryl was just glad I was done so early!

Morals for the Day:
1.  Find your dead ducks.  Ideally bring a dog.  If you don't have one, make sure you get after a wounded bird as soon as he goes down.  Don't do what I did.  Luckily I found all of my birds, but I would have felt really badly if I had killed birds that I would have found if I would have looked immediately, but didn't search for because I was being greedy.  In my book, it is very easy to cross the line between hunting and murdering here.

2.  Although opening morning was great, I wasn't comfortable.  It was my first duck trip of the year, it was my first time out in the area for a year, I was alone in the dark, I shot poorly, etc.  This helped me realize that the first trip will always be harder than the rest, and that as I get comfortable, I start to enjoy things more.  Now if only there were as many ducks on the rest of my trips!