Scull boat hunting

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David Archer

New member
A member of this forum contacted me about an article I wrote on sculling. I am 65 and I have been building small duck boats for the past 40 years. After 20 years I gave up sculling due to arthritis in both shoulders. Two years ago I met a 72-year old sculler who chastised me for not adjusting my techniques from all-out, two-handed sprinting to stealth and finesse. Presently, I am working on a male plug for a 14' Humboldt Bay style scull boat. I have had two complete shoulder replacements, and I should have the boat ready for next fall. If you are a sculler or you are interested in scull boats, please feel free to contact me. It is with some trepidation that I give it a try after a ten year hiatus. Last year I built a 10' layout boat, but I lacked faith and stuck to my aluminum sled that I built, which is powered by a Mud Buddy. It is a beast and this year I am going to put it aside and concentrate on the layout boat and my scull boat, especially since Klamath Lake is projected to be extremely low.

Dave Archer
dave@glaciertoyellowstone.com
 
Glad to hear you are going to give sculling another try. My grand father hunted out of a scull boat until he was 80. He always made it look so easy. Fortunately he passed the insanity on to me also. I am in the process of rehabing a fiberglass Merrymeeting style boat and should have it ready for early goose season. Good luck .....
 
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You can hear the theme from "Jaws" playing in the background when you're sculling.
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Lou,
There ya go advertising your age again!! hehe ;>) ;>)
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Doh.......guess you're right. I only "read" about when that movie came out and I MUST stop abbreviating. Make that 1983 as a year and not an age. ;) Too funny.
Lou
 
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I have Lou to blame, as well as a number of other folks from this website for my sculling addiction.

I'm glad to hear you're getting back into the game. I hope to read your stories here, and see pictures of your new float.

I hope to be in a float when I'm your age.

-D

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I have Lou to blame, as well as a number of other folks from this website for my sculling addiction.
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I guess all I can say is.............you're welcome. ;)
It's hard to know if you want to thank the person who got you into sculling or........set them adrift. ;) My buddy, Gene Chandler, is the one who got me into it we're still friends and have done tons of sculling and hunting together. Very cool memories.
Lou
 
I have a question for you scullers... what are the optimum conditions which would call for a sculling boat? Does it work well where there are strong currents? Wind? Waves? Is it preferrable to use on small lakes or creeks?

I have never seen one up close (or from far for that matter) nor have I ever talked to someone who has hunted out of one.

Just curious

Anthony
 
I couldn't figure out how to reply...duh, I had not logged in. I am thrilled to have contact with other scullers. Once I moved to Wyoming and Montana, I never saw another sculler. The photographs are a wonderful reminder why I used to love sculling. I must confess that I have seen your model of scull boat on the internet and I have been dubious about the profile and raised deck -- no more! The proof is on the deck! Thanks for responding.

Dave Archer
 
80! If I can get a few more years in a scull boat I will be thrilled. I hope to pass on my scull boat to my youngest son, who is 29 and back in college. I am going to write a follow-up post on sculling asking scullers for their input. I had mentioned on a Montana duck hunting forum that I would be returning to Montana and that I hoped to be successful once again from a scull boat. I received a number of replies from young men asking me about sculling. One man said that he could not find an internet article on sculling. I ended up writing a short article on my fishing blog, www.fishingtips101.com. Perhaps sharing such information is an unpardonable sin for some scullers, but I am a retired teacher and it will forever be my nature to share and pass on knowledge. Besides, most people are just curious. I hope some of you scullers will respond to some questions that I have. October is a long way off, but this boat project has me fired up.

Dave Archer
 
Anthony, Since you asked I'll recycle a sculling story from 01/06/01 which was my second year on the oar. It's typical/good day of a late season hunt, lots of ice, big water but well protected. The river is roughly 2 miles wide at this point and the drifts are 3 to 4 miles long for 6 to 8 square miles of open water to work. Cloudy is better because I'm headed into the sun. If it were at my back, Sunny would be better. Most of the work is done by the current from the ebb tide.

Enjoy,
Scott

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from 1/01

I bought this float from Donald two Springs ago and have had a ball in it. Today it was blowing 10 - 20 and the chop was kicking up nicely. This is the boat to handle it. Also check out the icebergs in the top of the picture, The river was full of them early, by the afternoon the tide was just about slack and the ice thinned out when the picture was taken. One slab rode right over one of the channel buoys. These are the big ocean size buoys; it was impressive when it launched back up out of the water!

Saturday’s Pair of Kings scull hunt

Saturday (Jan 6th, 01) I took my 2-man Merrymeeting Bay scull boat down to the mouth of the Connecticut River for a solo hunt. Taking the scull boat meant a good two hours of additional sleep over decoy hunting. No racing for the few good spots, or having to spend an hour or more setting up the decoys then having to pull them all at the end of the day. The trip down to the coast across the full width (top to bottom) of the state was uneventful, even in the inch or two of snow that had fallen the previous evening. (Now for you non New Englanders this run all the way across CT took an hour). I arrived at the ramp just about sunrise and found that someone had already broken out the ice at the launch. The wind was brisk, 10 – 20 knots with the tide just having peeked, the wind and current would be working together down river, out of the north all morning. Very large chunks of ice were flowing down with the current.

The ramp I used was right under the highway 95 bridge that is the divider between the northern close zone and the southern “open” zone. The run south down river is only a few miles then it’s the open Long Island Sound with a 15-mile drift over to Broadbill and LI Jack. With both the current and wind going down river it was obvious that I was not going to be sculling back up river so I planned on making multiple “drifts”, powering back up river to drift again. The only thing not perfect for the day was the sun, it was supposed to be cloudy but the weathermen were wrong. I would be sculling into the sun all day. I believe this fact alone significantly impacted my hunt. I was unable to spot the small-scattered duck heads in my path in the ice until they were almost alongside and at too great an angle to scull on as I was swept by. Powering back up I could see the heads of buffies and GEs but I would miss them on the way down every float.

For a first pass I chose the east bank since the West Side gets the most hunting pressure, its not uncommon to see boat blinds set up every couple hundred yards. But I knew they would all be gone by noon as the tide dropped. The East Side was the more windward shore since the wind was actually a northwest wind. This put most of the ice on this side and no decoy hunters were willing to deal with it. With the sun right in my eyes I missed the angle on a couple of GEs and Buffies then watched two blacks land just below me. I hunkered down and worked my way through the ice. One black swam in towards shore, the other one nervously stayed offshore. I got into position on the shore side black just as he was getting nervous about being cut off from his buddy. Up I came trying to mount the SBE to my shoulder somewhere under all those layers, the bead got out in front of him and the gun clicked. A problem I have with both my Benellis is, if they get jostled the bolt comes out of lock up and they won’t shoot. Not being a pump this is not the quickest thing to fix and the black flew away maybe a bit wiser (hopefully without the loud bang it won’t make much of an impression). I continued down river, past one hunter’s set at the mouth of a small creek. I tried to hurry by to not disturb them. The rest of the drift was pretty uneventful, there were black ducks working over Great Island WMA open for hunting) with an occasional shot going off. I powered back up river for another pass.

The second pass was still on the East Side of the river but off shore a bit trying to find the GEs and buffies out in more open water. I could see the white on their heads while going upriver with the sun at my back but I just couldn’t spot them in time when they were in the sun. Yes, I did have Polarized sunglasses and binoculars, I just couldn’t see them in all the ice. At the bottom of the drift I started working west because I could see and hear Oldsquaw flying around. All of a sudden I became aware of a small group ahead, 3 or 4 drakes and a hen. With the wind and tide trying to sweep me by I worked up on them but the unnatural drift alerted them and it became a race, then they clumped up and took off. This time the Benelli went off and I dropped a drake, 4 sluicing shoots and four dives later he was out swimming me up river and current. I went to the outboard and he took to his wings and I lost him. Anyone who thinks puddle ducks are tough hasn’t tried sea duck hunting. I powered back upriver keeping an eye out for him, no luck.

When I got back up I took a lunch, foot warmer, and pee break. Getting my circulation back and having added a few calories to fuel the old arms I launched for another drift. I chose to stay on the East shore again because I had watched some blacks working it. There they were, just a little bit offshore in the ice flows. I worked them trying to get out to their float path, working through the large chunks of ice. They were flapping their wings and preening, three more dropped in and joined them. Everything was prefect; I shot a gap in the ice and noticed they were starting to pay me some attention. I squirmed down even lower and dug into the oar trying to close. They broke into two groups and the lower group was inside of forty yards, I just needed another five to ten and I ran up on a sheet of ice and stopped dead. Well dead in the water but not the current, which was not favorable. With nowhere to go and the proverbial fan spraying it all over I sat up and blasted a few holes in the sky. Nothing, Nada, I blew it! The drift continued.

Almost immediately I spotted another bunch of large ducks below me in perfect position. Glassing them brought their reddish heads into focus; CANS. The old heart rate climbed a notch or two and I was off. Crunching through ice but making sure my head was high enough to spot the bigger pieces. Inside the hull the ice sounded very loud scraping along the hull but I hoped no louder then the ice going over the rocks and logs around the area. As I closed from slightly outside them, they swam in towards shore a touch. This effectively pinned them in place. I was up wind and current and they couldn’t swim out of my path, plus they were on my left giving me a perfect shot. At 20 yards they took off, upriver passing me at maybe ten yards. Of course I missed, at least my first shot, the second sent the unlucky can I picked out tumbling across the water. This left me sitting with a shell in the chamber with a dozen beautiful cans flying by me unable to shoot. When are they going to let us take two a day? :^)

Wow! My second can ever, and both taken in the same week, the first over decoys, the second from the float after a perfect scull. Both in CT.
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I don’t remember the rest of that drift; I was floating higher then the scull boat. Just remember that I didn’t get anymore opportunities. As I powered back up I ran into some oldsquaw, which all but one proceeded to fly up river. That one held tight then took off and flew a hundred yards up and away, then smacked back down. Thinking this might be my cripple I gave chase. His third flight was a long one and he ended up with some mates. This time I didn’t chase but swung east and powered above him to scull down on him. Unfortunately in the ice and sun I lost him. Then the oldsquaws got up again swung a few big circles and crossed my bow going right to left at maybe 20 yards. A drake folded and bounced across the waves on my shot, there was no time for a follow up swat because he was gone. I kept the gun shouldered to wait him out, but after what seamed like forever, he popped back up to the surface dead. As is normal for oldsquaw they circled a couple of times and looked like they were going to decoy to the belly up drake then they roared by at mach 3 and even watching them come in, I couldn’t get the gun mounted and a head of them. The trailer was not so lucky, she was going just as fast but mentally I was ready for the speed, crossing left to right inside of twenty yards she collapsed on the shot, bounced off a wave and skimmed along a good ten – fifteen yards before coming to rest. I’ve never seen anything like it. The rest of the flight circled a few times and split never getting back in range. I remounted the motor and powered back up river. It was now afternoon and the tide had ebbed but the current and wind were still downriver. All signs of hunters on the West Bank were gone, so I walked the float over a sand bar and headed down the west shore.

Shortly into the drift I watched three blacks pitch in a few hundred yards south of me. From my perspective I couldn’t tell where they were but I knew there were ducks below me. Then after a bit there they were, three blacks working the base of the marsh bank. They spotted me as I closed and they swam down river slowly in front of me. They got to a small point of rocks, and got behind them waiting for me to drift by. At fifteen yards I sat up. They thought about it a moment then jumped, not out over the water in front of me but over the bank to escape over the marsh to my right. I missed, again with my first shot; the second dropped the black back down on the rocky point, feet reaching for the sky. It was now 1:30 and I had a limit of blacks, cans, and a couple of oldsquaw thrown in. I took pictures and called it a day having some pretty tired arms. I dragged the boat back over the sandbar and mounted the motor for an uneventful ride home.



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