A Duck and Goose Hunt – What Were You Sinkin?
Every so often something happens in your life that you never forget. When Rosebud and Squirrelly get together especially hunting or fishing well, let’s just say what can and will sometimes go wrong, often does. We love to Duck and Goose hunt, and in this particular opening day memory everything that could go wrong did. I laugh when I think back to this one memorable day. Every summer we would drive from Peterborough to Tweed, Ontario and would feed our two great big duck ponds. We would load them up with barley and corn and then sit with our binoculars and dream of opening day.
Wow every year, it never let us down. We limited out year after year. Rosebud was a master at loading his own shells, thank god for that as we went through enough rounds. We were good shots but had our fair share of clean misses. The geese were smart and stayed high…the ducks, well they made up most of our bounty. Every type came through as we were on the northern flyway.
Teal, blue and green, buffleheads, Rednecks, Blacks, Mallards, Kanvasbacks, you name it, they came through. On one particular opening hunt Rosebud had a big plastic bag of reloaded shells and we were armed and ready. We had our floater jackets on and got into our Scout canoe from Bass Pro. We snuck out to our duck blind and just before we got there four great big fat Mallards came right at us and we were sideways.
I went up with the Breda shotgun, my good old reliable. They almost took my head off, I swear they did not see us. I fell out the back of the canoe and upset the canoe.
I started to laugh at the complete miss and the two of us in the bog. Rosebud yelled, Get the bag of shells! They are going down. I grabbed them but the bag was full of water. Oh no, now what? Two hours away from home and soaking wet. We went back over to our base camp and got our wet clothes off and changed into warm clothes and dried out the shells.
So with a lot of enthusiasm we were looking forward to the night hunt as the morning duck hunt had been a wash. So once again, we jumped into the canoe and headed for our blind. This time we made it without incident or so we thought. The evening hunt would not disappoint us. Ducks were landing all over our pond and then a flock decided to come over and we called them in with our duck calls from Bass Pro.
A nice flock of fourteen or more fat Mallards pitched in and just like we had done so many times before up we went and fired…plop plop plop plop. The ducks started to laugh at us. We had underestimated the drying time of these shells. Ducks and geese started to land in from all directions. Plop Plop Plop. I started to laugh but Rosebud was not amused. It was his hours of reloading, all gone for not.
Now the next adventure, well, let’s just say it put the icing on the cake. As we were shooting wet useless shells at the ducks and geese, I yelled, Rosie, I smell smoke!
We both looked over at our base camp and low and behold our clothes that were drying by the fire, were on fire, and the fire was spreading fast. This fire was supposed to be out, as we are usually very thorough, poor Rosebud, I have never seen a man paddle so fast. It was like he was a motorboat. He got the fire under control and came back to get me. He looked to so tired and was black with soot. He said, Squirrelly, I have had enough!
In all of the years that we were duck hunting this was the one time where we really should have stayed home. On the way home I said to him, What were you sinkin about…Very funny, Rosebud said, very funny.
More tales from the Squirrell’s Nest from Brian Bear Squirrell at Big Bear Outfitters your hunting and fishing guide for Nova Scotia, Canada. bigbearoutfitters.co