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Thread: 9/18 Marsh Hen- Scratch that off the list

  1. #1
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    Default 9/18 Marsh Hen- Scratch that off the list

    This place is a little dry...




    Clapper rails, Rallus crepitans, or marsh hens, whatever you want to call them is fine by me. Today, I hunted them.

    I got lucky and had a friend invite me down to the coast for what was promised as a good time with lots of shot opportunities. Despite our best efforts, the little marsh hen would turn out to be an elusive foe, evading our every attempt, and by the end of the day, laughing us out of the marsh.

    One thing would prove to be very neat, I would get to hunt with my grandfather’s (father’s side) side by side .410. It was given to my sister shortly before he passed away, and she was nice enough to let me take it on the journey. I’m not kidding, it kinda turned into a journey, all for a marsh hen.

    The journal entry:

    Marsh hen hunting
    Shot Papa’s sxs .410
    1 marsh hen killed
    Flood high tide @ 11:20am- 7.2ft

    Finally, I get a chance to hunt these little birds. I met up with Chris around 9:30am, we were on the water by 10:15. The ride to our chosen hunting grounds was short, the salt air was a welcome and familiar smell. I honestly had no idea what to expect as we pulled up to the first grass island. Chris mentioned that we were early when the boat came to a stop up against the taller grass. So I grabbed a short paddle and pushed the nose of the boat back out into the creek. Chris took to his spot in the boat and began to pole us down the bank, slapping at the thicker spots to drive any tight holding birds out of their cover. I sat anxiously on the front, Papa’s old .410 gripped tightly in my hands. I was so unsure of how it would all take place when we saw our first bird. Would he jump up 20 yards out or right in front of me? Would there be a warning first? Would he make a noise? Admittedly, I really wasn’t even sure that what I thought was a marsh hen was, in fact, a marsh hen. I was thankful that I could leave all of that up to Chris and just worry about making a good shot, if and when the time came.

    I was fortunate in that our first bird would show himself about halfway down that first grass island. I had let my mind drift off on a blue crab I saw in the water beneath us when Chris shouted, “There’s one!” My eyes snapped over to the sound of his voice, catching a brief movement across the water. The marsh hen was swimming out of the edge of the grass and just as soon as his full body emerged from the camouflage, He leapt into the air. I threw up the gun and pushed forward the safety but it was when I felt the trigger that I started to panic. It felt heavier than my other guns, so unfamiliar, causing my entire body to forget the task at hand. This frozen spot in time felt like an hour, my mind racing over what to do. Then, with another blink of the eyes, I refocused on the bird and squeezed the trigger harder. A shot rang out and I watched my first marsh hen fall.

    I wish I could say that we watched many more fall today, but we didn’t. The truth is we would only flush two or three more birds with zero shot opportunity and then we would break down. Literally, the motor broke down on us when the impeller decided to quit working. So we parked our little boat on the edge of the marsh and waited on friends to come tow us home. Chris and I could only laugh as we sat there waiting and listening. The whole marsh erupted with the familiar laughing call of the marsh hen and there was nothing we could do about it but enjoy the scene.

    Such is life, especially with boats. The bottom line is this, I got my marsh hen, I got to hang out with a friend in the marsh, and I learned how to hunt something new.

    The only bad part about this weekend is that it had to end.


    29571374810_5ae6347c55_b.jpg
    "This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." John 15:12

    "Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord." Hebrews 12:14

  2. #2
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    Beautiful gun, and a good story to go with it. I really enjoy hunting Rail. A buddy in Texas calls them, and hearing them answer the call and the grass moving ever so slightly as they pick their way through it to get to you, is a lot like hunting turkeys. Glad you got the one and sounds like the itch to do it again.

  3. #3
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    Had to be a great trip or no way you'd remember all that from last September. I've had days where they wanted to fly into the boat. Others that you had to wade and try to flush them up. Also, easing around the creeks at low tide will produce sometimes to. They come down on the bank to drink and wander around.
    Quote Originally Posted by BigBrother View Post
    I can eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a thought process better than the vast majority of you clemmings.

  4. #4
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    Very cool
    Member of the Tenth Legion Since 2004

  5. #5
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    That was out of my journal. I started keeping one last year to give me something to look back on. At first it seemed tedious writing things out after each hunt, but I have really enjoyed it this off season, being able to go back and read and relive things.

    That will probably be my first and last marsh hen hunt though. Not because it wasn't fun, but because I can't imagine trying to cook another one. As I told someone else, it reminded of hot cigar minnows at the end of a long bottom fishing day. No thanks.
    "This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." John 15:12

    "Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord." Hebrews 12:14

  6. #6
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    They are delicious, soak them in a salt / sugar brine 2-3 days. Put em on skewers with pineapple and a red onion. Grill till medium rare, better than a dove.
    Last edited by fracas714; 06-05-2017 at 02:25 PM.

  7. #7
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    Quote Originally Posted by fracas714 View Post
    They are delicious, soak them in a salt / sugar brine 2-3 days. Put em on skewers with pineapple and a red onion. Grill till medium rare, better than a dove.
    I did not have your experience with them. I did brine them in salt water for two days, changing out the water after the first day. I can't remember what I marinated them in before cooking, but it was useless. This coming from a guy who enjoys eating divers and has been known to breast out a few mergansers if they don't smell too bad.
    "This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." John 15:12

    "Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord." Hebrews 12:14

  8. #8
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    Ha - I thought about hunting marsh hens today even before seeing this. I only do it a time or two each year. It's always hot and sticky and buggy - seldom fun while it's going on but always enjoyable to "think back on". It's easy to long for a marsh hen hunt when I'm sitting at work in the air conditioning.

    I probably do it wrong because I usually hunt solo. I try to find an island with a few clappers calling then park my boat on one end and wait. I pace things by watching the Periwinkles trying to outrun the creeping flood tide. I can never tell when the periwinkles are panicked but the rails start getting nervous when they’re bellies are wet and their feet can barely touch the mud. That's when I make my move.

    Sloshing myself, I can move a bird or two to flight but as many or more will just swim through the grass and even try to swim the swelling channel. I might waterswat a bird that refuses to fly just for the principle of the thing but it doesn’t take but a few birds before my “off button” is hit and I make my way back to the boat for a half-frozen Gatorade.

    A Gatorade never tastes better than it does at the end of a September rail hunt in the lower Carolina.
    Last edited by Rubberhead*; 06-05-2017 at 03:43 PM.
    Ephesians 2 : 8-9



    Charles Barkley: Nobody doesn't like meat.

  9. #9
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    If you haven't ever shot marsh chickens you are missing out. Anyone who has a pirogue and wants to have some fun this fall give me a shout. I'll even let you keep all the birds.
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    Monsters... Be damned if I'd ever be taken alive by the likes of faggot musslims.
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    I am an equal opportunity hater.

  10. #10
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    I haven't shot them in several years, but for several years did participate in the Edisto hunt.

    I liken them to things that aren't really as important as they seemed in my childhood.
    Four holes redbreast fishing, setting crawfish traps, and Lowfalls riverbank catfish come to mind when thinking on that level.

    Maybe I'll try em this fall to revamp.


    Great read Mollie.
    Be proactive about improving public waterfowl habitat in South Carolina. It's not going to happen by itself, and our help is needed. We have the potential to winter thousands of waterfowl on public grounds if we fight for it.

  11. #11
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    They make a great perlo but not near as good as coot perlo.
    Genesis 9;2

  12. #12
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    Big Brother eats the gizzards.
    Quote Originally Posted by BigBrother View Post
    I can eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a thought process better than the vast majority of you clemmings.

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