Since the season was out here my brother, brother in law, and I headed north to find some birds....we made a stop Saturday in Nc to find some cans but the flight was slow, and only managed one. So we headed further up 95 and crossed the mason Dixon line. Sunday was our scout day, and the fog was so thick visibility was less than 50 yds so it was tough. Cooler air moved in that night and things cleared up. We were on the water before daylight, and as I was attempting to cut a zip tie, I buried a tanto serrated blade just above my thumb. I think my BIL, and brother were more worried than I, so we turned around, made the run back across the bay to go to the hospital. By the time we got back to the ramp, I had managed to stop the bleeding and on the way to back the truck up, I made the decision we came here to kill ducks not go to the hospital. I walked back to the boat, jumped in and said let’s go...after a little argument I convinced them I was fine so we headed off back into the bay. Birds moved well and managed a limit of blacks, losing one that hit the water dead, and never came back up after splashing...the dog hunted and hunted and never found it...
Day 2 was much slower but my brother managed a band
Day three the weather had changed from 65 degrees to snow forecast...by the time the sun came up and birds were moving, they were stupid acting....we were back at the ramp before 9 with limits of blacks and a couple brant...we packed up and headed south
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