Your finest hour

[hightech1953]

Mine was falling asleep and waking up about 10 o'clock to find my big black labs head on my chest dead to the world. It don't get no better than that my friend !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Sparkleberry Ridge Runner]

Thinking back on my waterfowl life has made me realize that there were a bunch of great "hours". I was fortunate enough to grow up with a father who started taking me in Sparkleberry in the 70's. I killed my first duck at the top end of Pine Island (greenhead) with a Fox 16 gauge double barrel in 1979. The days in "the swamp" were great. I have hunted public land in Mississippi that no one knew existed except locals. Been going to Arkansas timber since 1991. I have been freelancing Canada for the past 6 years.
Despite all of this, my best hour was with my daughter this past season on a draw hunt. We were in the "beehive" blind. It was called this because of how the ringnecks looked around it at daylight. We were in the blind enjoying some small talk when I told her it was time to get ready. Five minutes later we hear the jet engines. She looks at me wide eyed and asks what in the world was that. She proceeded to kill her first duck as well as her first limit. The final two ducks came in together. She told me she had the one on the left and I should get the one on the right. We shot at the same time and both killed our last duck of a 12 duck limit.
Despite all my travels and hunts, this one was my finest hour to date. Looking forward to many more.

[JacksonsHuntingDuke]

Mine was my second year of duck hunting. Only time I had to hunt was on weekends. Didn't like missing church so I would always go behind the house down on the Saluda and kill my limit of wood ducks. Had a bever pond about a hundred yards off of the river. One sunday morning I killed two woodduck drakes and sat for a little longer sipping coffee and I heard a quack. I could see two ducks flying down the river, put a come back call (the best I could) and they turned and headed my way. Use a few soft quacks and bring em in and kill a mallard drake and hen both were banded. I sat there taking it all in for about an hour. Called everybody I knew in that hour and then went home and got ready for Sunday School. Thinking back now I should have played the lottery because I felt like the luckiest man alive.

[BOGSTER]

At age 13 Dad had a buddy pull a 13ft sea ark home from a hunting trip to the Bayou Meto. We had spent the past week killing 7 man limits of mallards in the trees. I couldn't believe it when we got home and he told me the boat and brand new Mariner 15hp were mine. We got home that friday at about dark. I called everyone (who could drive) to tell them about the boat, and begged them all to come spend the night so we could hunt the next morning. No one could go. I begged my dad to pull me to the ramp the next morning, promising to only go to the blowout, swearing he could see me from the landing or any of our friends' houses along the stumphole bank. He agreed, as long as I agreed to back at the ramp at 10am to have my chores done before lunch. I got everything ready the night before, and did all I could to make a blind with scrap pvc we had left over from shrimp poles, and croaker sacks we kept from bushels of oysters. He woke me up at 4am and we headed the 3 miles to the ramp. After checking my life jackets, plug, and gas, he sent me on my way, sitting at the ramp until he heard me shut the motor down. I shined the light and he was off. While, I openly admit to being as scared as a kindergarten student on the first day, a part of me felt like a man. I was on my own on a duck hunt for the first time. The crack of daylight seemed to take forever. In those days, we still had a few migratory mallards, but huge droves of SCWA birds littered the river bank minutes after the first shots in Rimini rang out. While they were no doubt released ducks, (and not shining any kind light on that group) these ducks were much different than the released birds of the last decade. These birds were the direct offspring of migratory drakes. These ducks ( atleast for a boy) were just ducks. About a half hour after shooting time, the bird began to flood the flats. Wave after wave circled the blowout and I called with all my might. I had a group of about 50-60 circling for what seemed like hours. Finally the lead duck committed and all the others followed suit. When they landed I sat in awe. "Wow" I thought. After gaining my composure, I lined my 20ga mossberg up on the biggest greenhead I saw. I fired and they scattered, leaving 3 drakes kicking in my flambeau decoys. I was beyond proud. I didn't kill another duck that morning. I sat another 20 minutes, packed up and headed to the hill. I stopped at "The Hole" the little baitshop just up from stumphole landing and went in to call my father to tell him to pick me up there. I'll never forget his hug, his laugh, and the way I felt that day. Released ducks, or prairie born redlegs.......that day, I was a duck hunter.

[willk]

04 in Mississippi. Had 100+ mallards on the water and had at least double that still trying to get down in the hole. It was beautiful. I can still hear the sound of wings, and smell the swamp. ahh Clancys...I miss that place too.

[Calibogue]

Too many to recall but limiting on BWT two different seasons with no more than three rounds comes to mind ...one banded bird.
Each was a spot and stalk on small farm ponds.

[Mergie Master]

Haha, how many are reading this thinking "i cant tell about my finest hour on the internet"

The hunt was in Joanna SC when I was in high school. My 2 cousins and I left school one Friday ran home and grabbed our gear and lit out for the country outside Joanna. We had permission to hunt this big pond in a pasture. Once there we eased around through the trees and saw that the birds were already on the pond. A big group of mallards with some black sitting off to the side. The pond was surrounded on three sides by big hardwoods. The other end of the pond was the dam and the pasture started on that side. The ducks were on the opposite end away from the dam. We went into the pasture and climbed the hill which was the dam.

Once there we spread out and waited. We figured once the birds decided to leave they would get up and come over us (the only open end of the pond) and we'd pass shoot them. Like I said the dam was a hill and the pasture dropped away below it. While waiting I saw the sun shining off of water in the trees across the pasture. There was a swamp in there we didn't know about.

Being young we got impatient and couldn't wait any longer. I had learned from experience that sometimes if ducks are sitting far off on the water and I shot my gun then started calling they'd often come straight to me cause they couldn't tell where the shot came from and thought there were ducks where I was, hence safety. I told my cousins to get ready. I shot my gun straight up and then gave a series of alarm quacks on my call. The ducks started getting up and came straight at us in a line. We were behind the dam on the side of the hill so they couldn't see us until they were directly over us. There were more ducks than we realized, we started shooting them and they just kept coming. Every one we knocked down went into the pasture for easy pick up. There were so many ducks I was able to empty my gun and reload for a few more shots...I probably didn't have a plug in it either. Who knows.

I killed 5 mallards and a blacky drake that evening. All told the 3 of us picked up a total of 14 birds, 2 were blacks. The shooting time was probably a little over a minute or so.

After we picked up our ducks we climbed back on the dam and just sat there watching the swamp in the distance. Close to dark they started coming in small bunches, wood ducks. Then the groups got larger and before long the sky was full of wood ducks headed to that swamp and diving in to roost.

That led to a Sunday hunt two days later that I can not tell about. All I will say is that I personally shot 3 boxes of shells in just a few short minutes.

But I swore after that hunt to never do it again, I lost way too many birds and it made me sick.

[Mergie Master]

Mine was my second year of duck hunting. Only time I had to hunt was on weekends. Didn't like missing church so I would always go behind the house down on the Saluda and kill my limit of wood ducks. Had a bever pond about a hundred yards off of the river. One sunday morning I killed two woodduck drakes and sat for a little longer sipping coffee and I heard a quack. I could see two ducks flying down the river, put a come back call (the best I could) and they turned and headed my way. Use a few soft quacks and bring em in and kill a mallard drake and hen both were banded. I sat there taking it all in for about an hour. Called everybody I knew in that hour and then went home and got ready for Sunday School. Thinking back now I should have played the lottery because I felt like the luckiest man alive.

I killed my first banded duck right down the river from there where Turkey Creek comes into the river/lake. It was a hen mallard banded in Pennsylvania. I think it was in 1977 that I killed her.

[huntinghagen#12]

The one that comes to mind first was hunting in the Bayou Meta and calling in 100+ mallards into the hole. When we were there it seemed like every tree had a different person behind it and there were 3 groups of hunters within 150 yards away.

Another is killing 42 ducks in 45 minutes on public land on Lake Marion, all wild birds except 2 tamie mallards. Last is me and jgdavis shooting 4 times into a group of 75+ BWT I called in and dropping 12.

[huntinghagen#12]

I could add any hour spent duck hunting in Argentina to that list too ...

[schunter69]

Where is this great public land in Mississippi that only locals know of? I am in school at Mississippi State and would be interested in knowing where these great mysterious places are. Just kidding, but really.

[schunter69]

And yes I'm a lurker.

[Furman]

My first limit of ducks hunting Santee Delta West on the last weekend in January probably 4 or 5 years ago with my dad and brother. Motor wouldn't crank initially and thought we might not even be able to get to out spot. Finally got her cranked and idled to hole. About 15 minutes before shooting time swarms of teal started diving in over us in huge numbers- I'd never seen anything like it! While we were watching the teal, flocks of 40-50 big ducks would circle once and then dive in the hole which was probably only 80 by 50 yards. Sitting there before shooting time I'll never forget looking at the pintails sitting on the water only 20 to 30 yards away. Shooting time came and by that time the pintails were gone so we shot at some teal and hit about every third one- killed my first blue wing teal. Mid morning a pintail was flying around and would check us out and then leave. I was working the pintail whistle best I knew how and finally convinced him to cruise on in. Shot him as he was sailing in about 15 yards- my first pintail. Later on I was sitting on my knees in some tall grass and from behind me a pair of widgeon came in and tried to land 5 yards in front of me. Hit the drake on the first shot and finished him with a second- my first widgeon. This widgeon had a clubbed foot like it had gotten chomped off by a turtle or something?? All in all an unreal hunt for a young duck hunter and one I will never forget! Finished out the limit with green and blue wing teal

[Rubberhead*]

Good story Bog. I got my first boat and motor (14' Starcraft and 1960 5½ Evinrude) when I was 12. I kept it chained up to the Cooper River about 100 feet up from where Trash Duck kept his chained up.

I remember the first duck I killed while hunting alone. Like you, I was a duck hunter.

[XHailGC]

(Long Read)


Mine happened this year. This was my third season of hunting - mainly wood ducks. It was a cold January morning and there was well over an inch of ice in the lake. We decided to take the crow boat out as usual. The weekend before, we slaughtered them. This day was different than any other. It was colder and there was more ice than I had ever seen. We backed the boat into the water and the ice popped as the trailer went in. We loaded up our gear and headed out. There's another boat already in the water. A guy and his two sons are meticulously breaking ice as they were the week before. I turned the trolling motor to full speed and we proceeded to break ice as we did the week before. Next thing I know, we are on top of the ice. I knew we would never make it back to the hole. At that point, I heard running water. I shined the light into the back of the boat and we had sprung a leak. There was a quarter sized hole in the transom. When I saw the hole, I distinctly remembered hearing that popping noise when we backed the boat into the water. It wasn’t the trailer, it was a sharp piece of 1.5" ice jabbing into the boat. I told my buddy "we're done." He said "What?" I said "we have a hole in the boat, we are DONE." So, we loaded the boat up and departed from the lake.

After we left the landing, I said "hey, let's go to the beaver pond." I knew there was no way we would see any ducks, but it was worth the try. My buddy said "OK, let's go." We got to the beaver pond and only had a few minutes before shooting time. We gathered our stuff and rushed through the swamp mud and headed towards the pond. We finally got to the spot and only had 2 minutes before it was time. We stood there and waited as steam rose from our heads. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes, no ducks. I said "well, I guess it's over." About that time, it happened. Three woodies appeared over the trees. These boys were different that the normal summer ducks we shoot. Something just looked different. They approached through the same path that all ducks take to land in this hole, they dipped and rose because they saw the ice. My buddy fired two shots. His duck peeled off from the group and went straight to our left into the frozen water. Now they are in front of me and moving to my left. I fired a shot... I saw moss and bark fall off of a branch that was right in line with the duck. I knew I had to hit him. Two seconds later, his right wing started to flutter. Down he went into the cow pasture. We waited 15 more minutes and decided to go after our kills.

I walked across the beaver dam and up the frozen slopes of the pond. I entered the pasture and there he was. He was still alive. I walked towards him and got within 5 feet. He started running around like a chicken. Here I am with many layers on under my waders trying to chase a duck. I chased him in circles for 5 minutes. Finally, I cornered him off and he dipped to the ground and fell. When he fell, that's when I saw it. He had some jewelry on. I looked up to the sky and said "Thank You!"



I walked back to the pond and somehow my buddy knew he had a band. He could just tell by the look on my face. We left the swamp and headed back to the truck. I went to grab my iPhone to take a picture. But, I could not find it. I looked everywhere. That's when I realized my phone was in a bag that I put in the floor of the boat when we loaded it into the lake. The phone was ruined and I couldn’t tell a soul. That's when I knew the man above was really in control.

I've never had one of the days that most of you have had. But, this day went from a complete nightmare to a blessing in disguise.



I shared this in January.

Species of bird: Wood Duck Where banded: Maine When banded: 09/29/2003

[PINEWOOD DUCK]

A few years back, the year after the lake about dried up, took my oldest son in sparkleberry. It was youth day, he was the only gun, he killed his limit in about 10 shots. He doubled up on a hen and drake that are the wall in his room. We just sat there the rest of the morning watching wood ducks. One truly amazing day.

[willyworm]

Lots of good moments here guys. Wish I had some real cool moments that stood out, I just don't. But there have been numerous Louisiana hunts and killing of birds. But there have been times when I have have the pleasure of sitting back and watching what's seemingly thousands of wood ducks pour into a hole and know that I'm truly blessed to have a front row seat to watch God's awesome creations.

[quackaddict]

One of my favorites was last year in Texas. Me and my buddy scouted some fresh water ponds off of the Mission River that he hunted in years past, and they were full of big sprigs, mottleds, and some teal and grey ducks. Went back the next morning and hiked the half mile from the river out to the chosen pond and got out blocks set up and a spot picked out on our small island. While this hunt was unbelievable(I killed 2 greys, 2 sprigs, and a GWT all being drakes), the birds we passed on made the morning. The island we hunted off of was covered in marsh grass that wasn't but thigh high, maybe. So we laid out with our blind bags as a head rest. We had seen thousands of geese and sandhills early on, and I had killed my gadwalls, and John a pintail(and he whiffed on a mottled that came in on a string). Then the birds started coming in from the salt marsh. I wish I would have taken pictures that morning between shooting. We had groups of 10 anywhere to 40 birds strong of pintails decoy unbelievably for the next hour...and all of them were hens. We could have killed croker sacks full of them with a .410. We had birds less than 10 feet over our heads several times. You could count feathers and see every little detail in those ducks. We would let them work until they landed or decided that the pieces of plastic in their pond weren't real. It was one of the most awesome sights I've ever seen. It was pretty clear that day, and you would see some flashes of wings WAY high, and 5 minutes later, those birds would drop out of the sky and taunt us for what seemed like forever. It was voluntary restraint at its finest.

BTW rubberhead, that spoonie in your picture is a stud

[Palmetto Bug]

My finest hour duck hunting was down in Louisiana on a teal massacre at the Tabasco company's private lodge. We got our limits quickly with 20 gauge o/u's and then just sat and watched them pour into the decoys.

My finest overall hunting day started out with an early morning deer hunt. A nice 9 pt. stood up in the soy beans and only presented a head and neck shot. I was shooting an old M98 Mauser 8mm my grandfather gave me that I was well practiced with. I took the head shot and dropped him in his tracks. I loaded him in my pickup and drove next door to a shooting preserve where we were scheduled to have our local QU chapter field trial to decide which two dogs would get to go to the QU Nat'l Invitational FT. My dogs, Sweety and her son Turbo, won first and second place and got both slots to go to the nationals in Georgia. I was struttin' that day.

[dixiedeerslaya]

ive been thinking about this thread since i first read it.... and several "hours" and some "minutes" really stand out in the little bit of duck hunting i have done. one that really stands out the most (maybe because ive got the duck on my living room wall) was an out of state trip we made last year. hit black ice going up there and bout lost everything, but somehow managed to lose nothing. got to our spot friday morning to find that the thing was frozen up like hell... spent 3 hours trying to get to where we wanted to go , breaking ice the entire way. finally get there and break out a big hole and throw out some decoys. plan was to give it a few minutes that morning and see where the ducks were heading, then pack it up and scout the rest of the day.

it didnt take long after it got day light to realize our hole sucked and we needed to find somewhere else to hunt. we pack up and ride up to another hole that we had hunted the previous year, but decided not to hunt this morning because we were sure it would be frozen too. well we rounded the corner and O MY GOD, the hole wasnt frozen and there were 150-200 mallards and black ducks in it. we spook them out of there and then quickly get set up hoping they would start coming back in in small groups as the day went on. and they did, group after group worked back in the rest of the day but we just werent where they wanted to be. because of lack of cover, we had to set up a little farther down from where they were originally, and they just didnt want to commit. the only group that really did was a group of about 75 mallards and blacks, and we knocked down about 5 mallards out of it, but no blacks.

well the next morning we thought we had a plan. we were going to get their early an build a blind in the barren waste land of a bank that was there. the ducks didnt want to get close to the tree line where we had hidden the day before, so we had to try it. we build this little piece of crap blind that would barely hide the three of us. and we wait. well, THIS is the hour that im talking about.... we commenced to whacking. 3 of the first 4 birds that we killed were blacks. all three of us ended up killing a drake black, and within 20 minutes after legal time, we were letting blacks land in the decoys. i ended up being the last of the three to kill a black, but it was by far the biggest and prettiest of the three. perfect for the wall. after that we killed a few mallards, a few teal, a woodie, and for some reason, two hoodies.

i will never forget what that black duck looked like coming in.... ill never forget the shot, he didnt crumple, but did more of a one winged flop. and when he landed, it was on top of a sheet of ice.....