Sorry for lack of posts since last week. The mighty hunter has returned, obviously, with... wait for it...1/2 a duck! How exactly does a person shoot 1/2 a duck you ask? Well, it's like this: All together, the four of us shot four ducks-a hen shoveler, a drake bluebill, and two drake mallards. Two of the ducks were shot by Gerry Lancaster (they were on his end of the boat), while one was shot by Gerry's brother Jack (on his end of the boat). My friend Steve and I were fighting it out in the middle. I shot the one mallard I had a chance to shoot, though Gerry also shot, so we both claimed 1/2 of it. In the end, I wound up taking all of the ducks home, where they are now resting comfortably in my freezer, awaiting the day of duck a la orange, which is yet to come this winter.
It was not the most stellar day from a duck shooting perspective that I've ever experienced on the marsh. On the other hand, between the raindrops, I got to witness the morning flight, saw some ducks work to the call, watched sandhill cranes and geese flap by at a distance, ate grilled and buttered cinammon raisin bagels, followed by ham and eggs, and sucked down coffee with good men. We talked, we razzed each other, we stood in the rain and the wind and watched for circling birds coming to the call and the decoys. And it's these things, as much as the actual shooting, that make for a good duck hunt. And it's for them, as much as the other, that I love going and am looking forward to the next time.