Steve Sanford
Well-known member
Good morning and Happy Ought-seventeen, Cody et al~
Here is my tale of 2016's "quest"....
A Bull Fit for Any Matador
As I have mentioned elsewhere, it has become my tradition to seek a single drake Common Merganser each year - hereabouts on freshwater. Most of our birds are palatable - and safe to eat: Woodies, Mallards, Blacks, Canada Geese. I eat almost everything I shoot. I do make an exception each year, though, for a species our Health Department has advised to "eat none" since they first tested them in the 1980s.
We begin our seasons on the smaller waters of ponds and marshes and gun them until they freeze. They can ice over as early as late October - or as late as December. I recall one year when I shot my last bird here on the farm on Christmas Eve.
Once the ponds freeze solid, we move to the creeks and rivers. Most of our Woodies are enjoying the southeast by then, but our Mallards, Blacks and Canadas stick around. They all feed on corn when they can get to it - if the snow is not too deep or icy - but the ducks also find invertebrates and seeds on flowing waters. There they are joined by one of my favorite web-footed birds - the Common Mergansers. Known by Brits as Goosanders, we call these enormous fish-eaters either Shelldrakes or Shellpeckers. We call the hens (which are indistinguishable from younger drakes) "hens" - but the big, full-plumaged adult drakes are truly "bulls". Each year, I hope for one "pleasing shot" at a Bull Shellpecker.
A "pleasing shot" is one that combines a bit of a challenge with a certain indefinable aesthetic. As with fine food, "presentation" is important. Although I expect to see at least some Shellpeckers during any morning on any of our rivers, I may go whole seasons without the combination of an open season and the right presentation. The over-the-head "belly shot" is probably the most common opportunity for a pleasing shot. They often surprise me - approaching more than half the time from the "other" direction - and the overwhelming majority of these big Mergs have rusty heads and grey bodies; the older Bulls are always a small minority. The other opportunity I look for is the blindingly fast crossing shot, often low to the water. These are the shots that have the Model 12 swinging as fast as it can, trying to catch up with a target flying as fast as it can. When my eye sees the "right" picture, the eye - with no detour through the brain - tells the trigger finger to do its thing. Neither such opportunity presented itself during my 2016 season.
A big part of the appeal is simply the extraordinary beauty. I still remember watching 7 drakes pass against an almost black backdrop of Hemlocks. That indescribable blush of salmon or peach can show itself surprisingly well and is not to be forgotten.
I had not seen any drakes until a week or so back. I was scouting after a hunt - cruising along my favorite river to see what might be using it. About a mile downstream from where I had rigged earlier that morning I found 4 beautiful birds - 2 hens and 2 drakes, perhaps 50 feet from the open window of my Element - all in perfect nuptial plumage.
For many seasons, I included a cork Shellpecker in my river rig. I would typically set this lone Bull mid-river. His purpose was to draw in others of his kind - and he served well, letting me watch many waterborne Commons over the seasons. He now resides in a museum - but I think I will be carving a replacement over the next couple of months.
It was not uncommon this season for the "copperheads" to present well, the white throats and speculums grabbing my attention as they would wing on by. They tend to move a bit later than the "first thing" Blacks and Mallards, so visibility was usually better. Some would land in or near the rig, and I got to watch many hunt and feed and take care of their feathers. In the clear river waters, they often swim about "periscope down" - with just the forward half of their heads below water, searching for finny prey.
Earlier this week, I had 4 hens join me for about 10 minutes. Feeding around the rig and hanging out about 25 feet from where I sat on the bank, ensconced in my "whites" and enjoying the show. Their occasional grunts added another pleasurable ingredient. After they drifted off downstream, I was about to pick up the rig when I spotted 2 more upstream - a pair! I could clearly see the white-bodied bull leading his hen right toward the stool. So, I modified my plan and waited. I do not enjoy shooting birds that go out flat when they leave the water. A Black Duck springing up into a saltmarsh wind is a wonder to behold - and to shoot at - but anything a foot off the water holds little appeal. Nevertheless, I decided to see what unfolded. When the drake stopped opposite me - I never take shots on birds downstream of me, for fear of losing a downed bird - I sat up to get his attention. As anticipated, he began his taxiing upstream, running and flapping over the water. I put the bead out ahead of him and followed his departure. When his wingtips finally stopped splashing river water and he was fully airborne, he was about 50 yards away from the Model 12 and me. I was content to leave him for another day.
Friday the 30th was the penultimate day of our season. Partner Fencepost - so-named (by me) because he totes a Browning A5 - was rigged about 100 yards upstream of me. We each set just 5 decoys - Blacks and Mallards - and enjoyed the hide provided by the previous day's snowfall. We watched about 75 "big ducks" (mostly Blacks and some Mallards) pass overhead around shooting time, all headed downriver and with no interest in the parts we had selected. After the sunrise, I noted a duck making it way downriver, probably a hen Shelldrake, feeding as she went. She looked small and I wondered if perhaps she was a Hoodie. Minutes later, 2 more hens announced their arrival with that wonderful tearing/roaring sound as they approached low over my left shoulder and stooled in - above my rig and just below Fencepost's.
The 2 new hens ultimately joined the first and all 3 - all Commons - made their way over to my rig. They fed and flapped and preened right above my 2 Blacks and below my 3 Mallards. "Excellent!" I thought. Live decoys. All I need now is a lonely Bull....
Several minutes later, a herd of Shellpeckers answered my prayers. Approaching from downriver - behind me - they were high, about 35 yards up. From that perspective, it can be difficult to tell Mergs from Mallards at first glance. However, the 6 birds wheeled to the right just above my partner and above the Cottonwoods and Sycamores and I could clearly see the white wing patches and - sure enough - at least one big Bull. They could not have presented better. They came just like Mallards. Because they had to clear the trees, they tumbled down, intent on landing just to the left of my rig. And, just before alighting, they spread out, each in its own position. Ready to shoot, my eyes started at the left and strained. Grey in the 1 spot, grey in the 2, grey in the 3, then, right in the 4 spot and almost on top of my Black Ducks, was the Bull, his salmon-colored body almost on the water as Model 12 and Fasteel 3s brought him down. I cannot say I stopped him in his tracks because his momentum carried him toward me, that big pink chest pushing up a bow wave that I feared might swamp me and my snow-covered peninsula (Yes, I can get a bit carried away in the moment....).
Behold!
Note: Just as I was about to pick up the rig, 3 more Shellpeckers appeared from upriver, cupped and dropping. The snow on the backs of my decoys must have looked like "white birds" and they were intent on joining them. Since Model 12 was still fully armed, I came out on the middle bird - another Bull - found my lead and spoke the word "Pow!" in my mind. We Old Guys do a lot of counting coup....
And, I took a nice "bull" Black Duck on the final morning.
Which raises the question - who is better known as RED-LEG ???
All the best,
SJS
Here is my tale of 2016's "quest"....
A Bull Fit for Any Matador
As I have mentioned elsewhere, it has become my tradition to seek a single drake Common Merganser each year - hereabouts on freshwater. Most of our birds are palatable - and safe to eat: Woodies, Mallards, Blacks, Canada Geese. I eat almost everything I shoot. I do make an exception each year, though, for a species our Health Department has advised to "eat none" since they first tested them in the 1980s.
We begin our seasons on the smaller waters of ponds and marshes and gun them until they freeze. They can ice over as early as late October - or as late as December. I recall one year when I shot my last bird here on the farm on Christmas Eve.
Once the ponds freeze solid, we move to the creeks and rivers. Most of our Woodies are enjoying the southeast by then, but our Mallards, Blacks and Canadas stick around. They all feed on corn when they can get to it - if the snow is not too deep or icy - but the ducks also find invertebrates and seeds on flowing waters. There they are joined by one of my favorite web-footed birds - the Common Mergansers. Known by Brits as Goosanders, we call these enormous fish-eaters either Shelldrakes or Shellpeckers. We call the hens (which are indistinguishable from younger drakes) "hens" - but the big, full-plumaged adult drakes are truly "bulls". Each year, I hope for one "pleasing shot" at a Bull Shellpecker.
A "pleasing shot" is one that combines a bit of a challenge with a certain indefinable aesthetic. As with fine food, "presentation" is important. Although I expect to see at least some Shellpeckers during any morning on any of our rivers, I may go whole seasons without the combination of an open season and the right presentation. The over-the-head "belly shot" is probably the most common opportunity for a pleasing shot. They often surprise me - approaching more than half the time from the "other" direction - and the overwhelming majority of these big Mergs have rusty heads and grey bodies; the older Bulls are always a small minority. The other opportunity I look for is the blindingly fast crossing shot, often low to the water. These are the shots that have the Model 12 swinging as fast as it can, trying to catch up with a target flying as fast as it can. When my eye sees the "right" picture, the eye - with no detour through the brain - tells the trigger finger to do its thing. Neither such opportunity presented itself during my 2016 season.
A big part of the appeal is simply the extraordinary beauty. I still remember watching 7 drakes pass against an almost black backdrop of Hemlocks. That indescribable blush of salmon or peach can show itself surprisingly well and is not to be forgotten.
I had not seen any drakes until a week or so back. I was scouting after a hunt - cruising along my favorite river to see what might be using it. About a mile downstream from where I had rigged earlier that morning I found 4 beautiful birds - 2 hens and 2 drakes, perhaps 50 feet from the open window of my Element - all in perfect nuptial plumage.
For many seasons, I included a cork Shellpecker in my river rig. I would typically set this lone Bull mid-river. His purpose was to draw in others of his kind - and he served well, letting me watch many waterborne Commons over the seasons. He now resides in a museum - but I think I will be carving a replacement over the next couple of months.
It was not uncommon this season for the "copperheads" to present well, the white throats and speculums grabbing my attention as they would wing on by. They tend to move a bit later than the "first thing" Blacks and Mallards, so visibility was usually better. Some would land in or near the rig, and I got to watch many hunt and feed and take care of their feathers. In the clear river waters, they often swim about "periscope down" - with just the forward half of their heads below water, searching for finny prey.
Earlier this week, I had 4 hens join me for about 10 minutes. Feeding around the rig and hanging out about 25 feet from where I sat on the bank, ensconced in my "whites" and enjoying the show. Their occasional grunts added another pleasurable ingredient. After they drifted off downstream, I was about to pick up the rig when I spotted 2 more upstream - a pair! I could clearly see the white-bodied bull leading his hen right toward the stool. So, I modified my plan and waited. I do not enjoy shooting birds that go out flat when they leave the water. A Black Duck springing up into a saltmarsh wind is a wonder to behold - and to shoot at - but anything a foot off the water holds little appeal. Nevertheless, I decided to see what unfolded. When the drake stopped opposite me - I never take shots on birds downstream of me, for fear of losing a downed bird - I sat up to get his attention. As anticipated, he began his taxiing upstream, running and flapping over the water. I put the bead out ahead of him and followed his departure. When his wingtips finally stopped splashing river water and he was fully airborne, he was about 50 yards away from the Model 12 and me. I was content to leave him for another day.
Friday the 30th was the penultimate day of our season. Partner Fencepost - so-named (by me) because he totes a Browning A5 - was rigged about 100 yards upstream of me. We each set just 5 decoys - Blacks and Mallards - and enjoyed the hide provided by the previous day's snowfall. We watched about 75 "big ducks" (mostly Blacks and some Mallards) pass overhead around shooting time, all headed downriver and with no interest in the parts we had selected. After the sunrise, I noted a duck making it way downriver, probably a hen Shelldrake, feeding as she went. She looked small and I wondered if perhaps she was a Hoodie. Minutes later, 2 more hens announced their arrival with that wonderful tearing/roaring sound as they approached low over my left shoulder and stooled in - above my rig and just below Fencepost's.
The 2 new hens ultimately joined the first and all 3 - all Commons - made their way over to my rig. They fed and flapped and preened right above my 2 Blacks and below my 3 Mallards. "Excellent!" I thought. Live decoys. All I need now is a lonely Bull....
Several minutes later, a herd of Shellpeckers answered my prayers. Approaching from downriver - behind me - they were high, about 35 yards up. From that perspective, it can be difficult to tell Mergs from Mallards at first glance. However, the 6 birds wheeled to the right just above my partner and above the Cottonwoods and Sycamores and I could clearly see the white wing patches and - sure enough - at least one big Bull. They could not have presented better. They came just like Mallards. Because they had to clear the trees, they tumbled down, intent on landing just to the left of my rig. And, just before alighting, they spread out, each in its own position. Ready to shoot, my eyes started at the left and strained. Grey in the 1 spot, grey in the 2, grey in the 3, then, right in the 4 spot and almost on top of my Black Ducks, was the Bull, his salmon-colored body almost on the water as Model 12 and Fasteel 3s brought him down. I cannot say I stopped him in his tracks because his momentum carried him toward me, that big pink chest pushing up a bow wave that I feared might swamp me and my snow-covered peninsula (Yes, I can get a bit carried away in the moment....).
Behold!
Note: Just as I was about to pick up the rig, 3 more Shellpeckers appeared from upriver, cupped and dropping. The snow on the backs of my decoys must have looked like "white birds" and they were intent on joining them. Since Model 12 was still fully armed, I came out on the middle bird - another Bull - found my lead and spoke the word "Pow!" in my mind. We Old Guys do a lot of counting coup....
And, I took a nice "bull" Black Duck on the final morning.
Which raises the question - who is better known as RED-LEG ???
All the best,
SJS
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