Jeff Reardon
Well-known member
I had my traditional last day of the season hunt today on a small tidal bay that isn't quite far enough east to make it into Maine's new coastal zone. Four of us in two canoes set up for puddle ducks at first light. 90 minutes later, all we had were two hooded mergansers in hand and a handful of high flying black ducks well overhead. But we'd been hearing a few goldeneyes passing behind us, so we decided to salvage the morning with some targeted diver hunting.
I see a lot of posts on here from folks who hunt big water and big decoy spreads for whistlers. Our birds seem to behave differently--maybe because our coast is so broken up. We typically see lots of singles, doubles, and small groups, and they decoy readily to a set up that includes just a handful of decoys.
We split up--with me and the kid set up on my favorite point, and the other canoe on the opposite side of the bay. Each of us had three drake goldeneye decoys. I don't know what happened with the other canoe--I had to leave early, and we didn't check in before I left--but we did hear a fair amount of shooting.
The kid and I had whistlers diving into our little spread as soon as we set up. He knocked down a drake out of the first pair to decoy. While he was out in the canoe retrieving it, I had what I thought was a pair of mergansers buzz the decoys. It wasn't until they were right in front of me that I realized the second "merganser" was a drake mallard. My two shots were about 5 seconds too late, and about 2 yards behind. I was still fiddling with reloading when a gorgeous drake whistler dropped right into the decoys. Fumbling with shells and gun, I didn't even get a shot off.
No worries, as I soon had a chance to redeem myself on a fat hen whistler. One shot and she dropped stone dead 10 yards in front of me. About 2 minutes behind her was a very nice drake. I took two shots, thinking I hit him on the first one but seeing no sign of him slowing down. About 250 yards out, his landing looked a little rough. When he hadn't moved from that spot 5 minutes later, I knew I had a long paddle for the retrieve. When I picked him up, he was actually hit pretty hard--one leg was broken, at least two wounds in one wing, and at least two pellets into the breast. I can't believe he flew so far.
The kid whiffed with 3 shots at the last whistler that decoyed, and that was it for the morning, since he was on his way to Maryland for the holiday, and I had strict orders to have him home for a noon departure.
Now it's time to jump to the other side of Route 1, where I still have two more weeks of hunting in Maine's new coastal zone. I'll be on some salt marsh Monday morning before Christmas Eve with the in-laws, and Wednesday is set aside for an all-day hunt.
Unbelievably warm for winter solstice. I didn't put on a pair of gloves all morning.
I see a lot of posts on here from folks who hunt big water and big decoy spreads for whistlers. Our birds seem to behave differently--maybe because our coast is so broken up. We typically see lots of singles, doubles, and small groups, and they decoy readily to a set up that includes just a handful of decoys.
We split up--with me and the kid set up on my favorite point, and the other canoe on the opposite side of the bay. Each of us had three drake goldeneye decoys. I don't know what happened with the other canoe--I had to leave early, and we didn't check in before I left--but we did hear a fair amount of shooting.
The kid and I had whistlers diving into our little spread as soon as we set up. He knocked down a drake out of the first pair to decoy. While he was out in the canoe retrieving it, I had what I thought was a pair of mergansers buzz the decoys. It wasn't until they were right in front of me that I realized the second "merganser" was a drake mallard. My two shots were about 5 seconds too late, and about 2 yards behind. I was still fiddling with reloading when a gorgeous drake whistler dropped right into the decoys. Fumbling with shells and gun, I didn't even get a shot off.
No worries, as I soon had a chance to redeem myself on a fat hen whistler. One shot and she dropped stone dead 10 yards in front of me. About 2 minutes behind her was a very nice drake. I took two shots, thinking I hit him on the first one but seeing no sign of him slowing down. About 250 yards out, his landing looked a little rough. When he hadn't moved from that spot 5 minutes later, I knew I had a long paddle for the retrieve. When I picked him up, he was actually hit pretty hard--one leg was broken, at least two wounds in one wing, and at least two pellets into the breast. I can't believe he flew so far.
The kid whiffed with 3 shots at the last whistler that decoyed, and that was it for the morning, since he was on his way to Maryland for the holiday, and I had strict orders to have him home for a noon departure.
Now it's time to jump to the other side of Route 1, where I still have two more weeks of hunting in Maine's new coastal zone. I'll be on some salt marsh Monday morning before Christmas Eve with the in-laws, and Wednesday is set aside for an all-day hunt.
Unbelievably warm for winter solstice. I didn't put on a pair of gloves all morning.
