Waterfowl hunt open for business
In the darkness of the early morning of Saturday, duck hunters from all over the state jockeyed for spots, placed decoys, and sat with anticipation for the first pass of ducks in the faint early morning light. The Wisconsin waterfowl season in the northern zone opened. It was a quiet opening morning where I was.
At the landings you see a lot of excitement. At other places you hear a lot of frustration. Hunters that feel frustrated with the teal season and the youth waterfowl hunt. Some are frustrated with both feeling the whole duck season is ruined by the teal season and the youth hunt.
There are bigger issues with waterfowl hunting. Issues we all need to spend our energy on. There will never be an area like the Nelson Bottoms or the Horicon Marsh just pop up out of thin air. No one is making more land. And no one is tearing down houses or strip malls that were built on top of wetlands.
Angst with duck hunting is like angst with deer hunting. If hunters weren’t passionate about what they hunt, there wouldn’t be any angst.
Wisconsin isn’t the only place with angst. Louisiana is a dream destination of many northern states duck hunters. Rice has declined in economic status in much of the agricultural areas that traditionally grew rice in Louisiana. At the same time the cultivation of crawfish has taken off. Economy has forced many of the landowners to convert their rice paddies to crawfish ponds. Ducks eat rice; no rice, no ducks.
The ducks stay in a state to the north where their rice production now exceeds Louisiana’s so they don’t migrate further south to those traditional spots. Today Louisianians see only two percent of the mallards they used to see in many areas. In the last few decades the number of duck hunters has decreased by 50 percent nationally. That’s bad for ducks. Whether a duck hunter leaves the ranks because of crowded marshes, season structures, or lack of ducks they have left the ranks and it’s bad for ducks. If you’ve never experienced a boat ride to a blind in the dark of night. If you’ve never sat in a blind watching, hearing, feeling a marsh come to life. If you’ve never heard the rush of wing beats overheard, the whoosh of air on the wings of a flock of ducks gliding down to pass your decoys. If you’ve never watched the sunrise on a marsh in the fall. If you’ve never had a flock of a thousand coot swim past at 15 feet from you. If you’ve never heard the splash of a duck felled from the sky into your decoys. If you’ve never watched a retriever launch from the blind and return with a duck.
If you haven’t I can’t do it justice explaining it. It settles deep into your soul. Old retired duck hunters have told me that they can close their eyes and can still see, hear, smell, and feel the marsh in the morning in the fall. They’ve told me how they miss the night’s sleep after a hunt on the marsh. One filled with dreams of passing ducks. I’ve noticed dogs dream after a duck hunt too.
If you have experienced these things then you know. You know the joy of hunting the day after a front moved through. You know the elation you feel of finding fresh ducks that flew in the night before. You know the follies you see on the opener.
One such event I often recall involved five hunters in their early twenties. Shooting started at 9 a.m. that year. We had been in our spot since 2 a.m. At eight we set the decoys. About 8:30, the first two diehards step out of the reeds 20 yards from our boat with joy on their faces - until they saw us. They walked through 300 yards of cattails after a quarter mile of woods in chest waders carrying decoys, guns, and ammo. It was a warm day and a couple looked hungover.
They started walking away from us down the reed line. One of the hungover guys tripped and nosedived into the drink. Another fell over trying to help him up. And to their credit, they stayed out and hunted. I bet that day is remembered fondly with a lot of laughs now.
This opener like all openers created memories too. And even rough ones can turn to fond memories with time.
Through a
Decoy’s
E
ye
