January Duck Float

In October my friend Ben and another hunting buddy of his had floated a stream in the laurel highlands in pursuit of ducks.  On a crisp beautiful October day they drifted down the stream flushing wood ducks with some regularity and shooting several of them.  Now that deer season was over and duck season  open Ben suggested that we float that same stretch in his canoe.  We could take turns, switching about as bow gunner and canoe pilot.  The small ponds in the area had some ice on them but the stream was ice free, so, he reasoned, ducks would be drawn to the open water of the stream.

Since the Pittsburgh weather man that I had listened to was gushing about unseasonably warm weather for the day with showers not moving in until late that afternoon, I decided to go with a lighter cotton camo jacket rather than my bulky waterproof camo parka.  As soon as I stepped from my car in the mountains I was pretty sure I had made a mistake.  The temperature is always lower in the highlands than it is in Pittsburgh, and I should have figured on that.  When we dropped off  Ben's truck at the takeout point, we saw ducks swimming downstream from where we parked.  They were far off and downstream from our takeout point, but it was encouraging to know that there were ducks in the area, and they were on the stream.  We drove my vehicle back up to our launch point and set off shortly after 11:00 a.m.

At 11:15 it started to rain.

Ben had us well prepared.  He had camo netting for his lightweight canoe, some decoys,  and a black, short barreled 12 gauge pump, which I soon realized was very well suited to what we were doing.  My standard size walnut stocked semi seemed visible and cumbersome by comparison, especially when we had to get out of the canoe to drag it through shallows and pass it over or through "strainers" which blocked our progress down the stream.  About all I really contributed to the effort was a camera and a thermos of hot tea, which turned out to be a welcome addition.  Ben had the sense to wear a rain jacket.

The rain was little more than a sprinkle at first, and I pretty much ignored it.  That worked for a little while, but as we floated along marveling at our surroundings it began to rain harder and more steadily.  My cotton gloves were the first thing to become completely soaked and totally useless, I wrung them out, but finally decided that I was better off without them, so tossed them aside.  The camo ball cap that I wore does not mention gore-tex nor claim to be waterproof anywhere that I can find on it, but it certainly seems to be.  It kept my head nice and warm and dry.  I decided to concentrate on that.  The rain and accompanying mist made visibility a little tough as I studied the stream ahead for ducks, but when a wild turkey launched from some hemlocks on the left bank about a hundred yards ahead of us and flew across the stream, it was clearly visible.  When we got to about 50 yards from the trees, a couple more turkeys followed, then a few more, then a steady stream until 43 had crossed in front of us all told.  For a few minutes the woods ahead on our right were full of turkeys running around, a fascinating sight, then they were gone.

About that time I was beginning to think we were not going to see any ducks, and noticed that I was starting to get wet through my coat.  Then, all of a sudden there were ducks up ahead!  I could see three ducks swimming around and it was clear that they had crested heads, but with mist, drizzle and heavy overcast, I saw them pretty much as silhouettes.  We had a brief whispered discussion about whether or not they were mergansers, beautiful birds but noted for their poor table qualities.  If so, I was not interested, no matter how exciting it might be to shoot at them.  Then they flushed.  Mergansers get off the water by first running on the water to get airspeed, it is a very distinctive and recognizable approach.  These ducks just flushed right from their swimming posture.  Wood ducks!  As Ben excitedly called out the I.D., I pulled the gun up but didn't shoot and muttered "too far".  Then we had a brief discussion about whether or not that was the right call.  I like to think it was.  Regardless, I figured we would encounter them again and, since I had not shot, we would likely get closer to them next time.  Both of us have had that experience on previous non-hunting floats.  These ducks apparently were unaware of that policy and never let us get that close again before flushing!
They also avoided being ambushed by always staying in spots where they could see both up and downstream, so we could not sneak around a bend and "get the drop on them".   It was frustrating to get excited seeing them up ahead, only to have them get up and go before we were in range, but it did help take my mind off being cold and wet.

Passing the canoe through a fallen tree

Our hopes rose when we spotted a flotilla of mallards far down the stream, but they proved to be even spookier than  the woodies, and flushed well out of gun range in a line that spanned the stream from bank to bank.  My hopes for a gun emptying shoot 'em up dashed, I noticed that I was shivering pretty steadily and suggested that we pull over and have a hot cup of tea.We both agreed the tea was a wonderful lift.  While I gulped some down to get the warmth in me as quickly as I could,  Ben tossed out a few decoys and blew on a duck call in an effort to bring the ducks back.  We hid under the low branches of a streamside hemlock, but when they did not return after a while we got back into the canoe and set off down the stream.  We had a few more duck spottings but never were able to really close the distance enough to get any shooting.  As frustrating as that was, it was all in all a great day, and a bit of an adventure.  We congratulated ourselves on getting out, even though conditions were a little tough. Next time I plan to err on the side of overdressing.