Experimental Teal Season

About 40 years ago, when I lived in Ohio, the FWS decided to have a 10 day season for Teal. 4 bird limit for 10 days in September. It was to sort of test the waters and see if it hurt the Teal population and to see if hunters would be honest and not just shoot up the Wood Ducks. I guess it all worked out well because now they have Teal seasons all over the country.

My Dad had been selected in the blind drawing at Indian Lake. He and all his cronies plus myself and my friend Craig Wallace headed up to the lake the first Saturday of the Teal season to hunt a little and build our blind.

Dad took the motor boat with all his friends and headed off to Bear Wallow, a large marsh at the north end of the lake. That left Craig and I to row the 'Gizmo' out to Blackbird Basin to try for some Teal. Craig and I really gunned them down. We had our 8 birds in little or no time. We took them back to the cottage, grabbed another box of shells and headed back out. We didn't get another limit, but shot a few more birds before it was time to quit and go work on our blind.

Back at the cottage all Dad's friends were out on the dock waiting on us. They hadn't seen a single duck and were very jealous of our success. For a couple of 15 year old kids we were feeling pretty fine. We told them of our hunting and shooting prowess at great length. Finally Dad said it was time to go to work so we loaded up our lumber and set out. Normally it was hard for Dad to get his buddies to do much work, but with the promise of us taking them to our 'secret spot' they all turned to and we got the blind built and grassed in just a couple hours.

Back at the cottage they all opted for a nap, but Craig and I went out and just rowed around and shot 3-4 more birds. That really had the derelicts talking to themselves. So about an hour before sunset we all headed out for an evening shoot. Dad again took the motor boat and they headed around the back side of the Basin and set up in a really good pothole. Craig and I just rowed up into the reeds out in the middle of the marsh. I thought they would really put it on us that evening.

For some reason the Teal all flew by us and left them with nothing but a squirrel to show for their efforts. Craig and I finished the day with 26 Teal between us. I know we both had swelled heads about our duck shooting, and it still feels pretty good when I think of it. Two kids with a couple boxes of reloads and an old steel rowboat had put the quietas on them.

Brannen's Hurricane

Not a day goes by that I don't think about Cain.

I had 3 other retrievers before I got the yellow Lab puppy that I have now. When I was 15 years old I helped a friend of my Dad's train his Lab and when she had some puppies, he gave me one. That was Nacoma's Chief. I was young and had very limited training knowledge and facilities but he turned out to be a fine dog. Big and strong, very willing to please me, and he made a big difference in our hunting. His only shortcoming was that I didn't know what to train him to do. I'm sure he could have been a fantastic dog if he had been trained by a good retriever man. But I was just a kid, so I taught him a little and he did the rest.

While I was in the Marines I got a Chesapeake Bay dog, Brannen's Seahorse. I listened to the advice of a professional trainer that I respected and got the dog just before I went to Okinawa, Japan for a year. The trainer told me he never started training Chessies till they were a year old. Maybe that worked for him but it didn't work out too well for me. By the time Hoss was a year old he was his own dog and had no inclination to listen to anything I had to say. He weighed between 110 and 120 pounds depending on the time of year and was as strong as a horse, so any idea of me imposing my will on him was out of the question. He and I hunted together for many years. I shot the ducks and he retrieved them. He didn't tell me how to shoot and I didn't tell him how to retrieve. Another fine dog that I don't think ever lived up to his potential because I was lacking in my training abilities.

After Hoss I went with another Lab, Brannen's Hurricane. Unfortunately his blood lines were not that of healthy dogs. He suffered from arthritis from about 4 years old till the end of his life. He had some skin problems, he went deaf when he was only 7-8 years old, he had some digestive system problems. I felt so sorry for him that he was in some sort of pain for almost his entire life. Had it not been for that, he would have been the greatest retriever the world has ever known. He was smarter than most people and had a heart as big as the Atlantic Flyway. He did everything ever asked of him. He chased cripples for 2-3 miles in the open water of the Pamlico Sound. He dove after diving cripples. His first ever hunting trip he marked 5 Ringnecks shot on the first pass in a marsh. He absolutely did it all. Other hunters and dog trainers still talk about the black dog that ruled the New River, from bank to bank. I have been around lots of retrievers. I used to gun for the AKC Field Trials in this part of the country and saw plenty of good dogs. I even ran Cain in a practice trial with a professional trainer once. He was 7 months old at the time and beat hell out of every other dog that ran. Even when he got to the point that I had to lift him in and out of the car and the boat and the blind, he never flinched, never gave in.

When you gave Cain the command 'Back' you had better be ready. Ready with binoculars to watch his progress, ready with the boat when he went out of sight in the waves, ready with your duck strap to hang the bird on.

As I sit here and type this I have tears in my eyes.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about Cain.

One Too Many?

Twenty some years ago we had a lot of Bluebills on the New River. I had an old blind at Hospital Point that was fairly productive.

One day in January we went up to Pamlico Point to hunt our blind on Mouse Harbor. We shot a bunch of ducks, I think four of us came close to our 7 Bluebill and 7 Scoter limit that day. It was a lot of shooting and a lot of hard work. We didn't get home until 2100 or so. My Dad and a friend of his both said they were too worn out to hunt the following day and my partner had to work, so I planned on taking the day off.

Woke up early and went out to check the weather, it looked too good to pass up. So I packed up my gear, got my Chesapeake Bay dog - Hoss, and we headed out to Hospital Point. Most of the time we just launched the boat right over the beach behind the blind, but the tide was too low and I had to launch at the Marina. Had a really stiff NE wind blowing and I got soaked on the boat ride to the blind. Maybe soaked isn't the right word, because it was cold enough that it all froze. I was literally frozen to the boat by the time I got to the blind. Started wondering if I had used good judgement in coming out at all. Got the decoys in the water and got myself and Hoss situated in the blind and sat back to wait on the ducks.

Hoss and I sat there munching on some cold, fried chicken livers. Each time I'd have one, I'd give him one then wrap up the foil and set them aside for a while. Not a sign of a duck till a half hour after shooting time. Single Greater Scaup came sailing into the wind right up the trailers and I dropped him. Hoss retrieved him and we each had another chicken liver. 30 minutes later another duck, another shot, another retrieve and another chicken liver. 30 minutes later...you know the drill. It was amazing. You could have set your watch by the 30 minute intervals between ducks. Well, we repeated this deal 5 times and by then we ran out of chicken livers.

I discussed things with Hoss and apologized for running out of snacks. He indicated that maybe we should go on home, but I still needed two birds to fill my limit. Guess what? 30 minutes later a nice flock of Bluebills turned on the decoys and came right in. I unlimbered the old 870 and killed a triple. Even though it happened pretty fast, I remember thinking after I killed the first two, that was the limit. But Hoss and I had worked hard and waited patiently for three hours to get a limit so I pulled the trigger on that last one just as sort of a reward for being good hunters.

The boat ride back was cold and wet but well worth it. When I got back to the house, my partners from the day before were waiting on me to clean the ducks. Maybe I said that wrong. They weren't waiting to help me clean the birds I had just shot, they were waiting on me to clean the birds we had shot the day before. They seemed shocked that I had brought in eight more and chided me for shooting 'one too many'.

A Full House

The North Carolina Brannens.

Myself, my son Mike, my father Mike, my son Kevin and his son Kevin. Three Mikes and a pair of Kevins.

Looks like a winning hand to me!

Hunting Partners

Any duck hunter knows that a good hunting partner can make a whole lot of difference in your hunting experience. A bad hunting partner can make even a bigger impact. I have had my share of both. I've hunted with my Father for the longest of any partner. Mostly good times, but there are always family matters that spill over into the hunt which can detract from the hunt itself. I've hunted quite a bit with my brother Tom. He is a good friend and good brother and we have enjoyed hunting together but he is not a serious waterfowler. For several years while I was in the Marines I hunted with Mighty Mike McGee. Tough as nails, hardcore duck hunter, great shot. After we drifted apart I hunted with a North Carolinian I met while I was helping myself to his duckblind. He figured it was easier to be my friend than to try to fight me and we went on to be close friends until his untimely death at the hands of a bottle of vodka. I hunt with my sons a lot, actually at every opportunity. Wish our days off coincided a little more so we could get more days in together. Most recently acquired hunting partner is Kelly Murphy. A co-worker and loyal friend. I think she started hunting for a few reasons; she wanted to prepare for raising her sons as outdoorsmen, she was a good rifle shot in the Marines, and she heard enough stories about the fun we have hunting and wanted to be a part of that. I have truly found a diamond in the rough when it comes to hunting partners. She will go in any weather, never argues about the set of the decoys, always lets me call the shot. Doesn't make horrible sounds on a duck call, is comfortable in a boat in rough water in the dark, even when I'm maybe just a little bit lost. She is a fast learner and is very athletic and energetic. She is broke all the time, but other than that she is totally committed to every facet of duck hunting.

When first asked to come along on a hunt she wasn't all that well prepared. Actually she had a trigger finger and nothing else. But I figured, with time, I could mold her into a perfect accomplice. So we borrowed a gun from my Dad, used hunting clothes and boots of mine and my sons and off we went.

The hunting was terrible. We had wind problems, fog problems, lack of duck problems, you name it and it went wrong. Being Irish, I had enough of the gift of gab to keep her interested. So on the last morning of our disastrous trip we tried one last desperate sneak around a public hunting area. I taught her as we crept along and tried to keep a positive attitude that you should never take things for granted, and always be vigilant while you were hunting. Sure enough it paid off. I have very little hearing left so I would have blown it, but she heard a duck quacking back behind us. It must have flown into the marsh after we had already passed that way. After I got close enough to hear it, I figured it was a big loud mouthed hen Mallard. We snuck back around and got up pretty close to it. I told her to stay put and I snuck just a little closer to where I could actually see the duck to ensure it was a Mallard and not a Black Duck because the season wasn't yet open on them. Once I got a good look I signalled Kelly to fire away. She lunged through the myrtle bushes where she was hiding and blasted that hen before she could escape. My retriever stood obediently by her side waiting to be sent on the retrieve. I could see from my spot that the duck was down, but yet Kelly hadn't sent the dog so I walked back down there to see what was going on. I soon saw Kelly down on her back grabbing onto grass, weeds, myrtle and the dogs tail trying to keep from sliding down the bank into the water. She righted herself before I got there and told some wonderful little story about poor footing and slippery grass and assorted other contributing factors to her landing on her backside. But the dog gave me the high sign that she was actually just unbelievably awkward and that I didn't even really want to know what had transpired. Cain retrieved the duck and we came home without being skunked.

Since then she has come a long way. She can out shoot most people we hunt with and because she learned from me, she does almost everything just how I like it. Hopefully we can kill enough birds to keep her interested. I'd hate to lose her as a partner and a friend.

Who is to Blame?

I could have been a productive human. My brothers are all smart, hardworking, well-rounded guys. Actually I gave that stuff a try for a few years but it just wasn't meant to be.

I guess it all went to hell when I was about seven years old. We lived in a little town in Kentucky. My Grandfather was a rabbit and quail hunter but his first love was fox hunting. Not shooting foxes, but running them with hounds. He had some really fine hounds over a 70 year fox hunting career. Won the Kentucky State Fox Hunt (with my help :-). But he never was a dedicated duck hunter. My Father was. He loved to shoot upland game as well, but he liked duck hunting the best. So when I was big enough to keep up with him he took me along and ruined me for life.

We went jump hunting on the North Fork of the Licking River in Mason County, Kentucky. It was one of Dad's favorite places. We snuck along the creek looking far ahead to spy out some ducks and finally Dad saw some. My woodcraft skills were probably not the best at that early age, so Dad told me to wait while he snuck up on the ducks. He tied our retriever (my Uncle's totally untrained Chesapeake Bay dog) to a tree and told me to turn her loose when he shot. He told me to wait where I was and not to go any closer to the creek. At least he didn't tie me to a tree as well.

After a few minutes I heard him shoot so I turned 'Boo' loose. I was just standing there when I saw a flash through the trees on the creek and a Mallard drake fell right at the edge of the water. I wasn't sure what had happened exactly. Dad was 200 yards down the creek, and I didn't know that sometimes a duck would fly a little ways after being shot, but I saw the bird there and the dog was gone who knows where, so I decided to ease down the bank and retrieve that beautiful bird. I got to it easily enough, but was having some trouble getting back up the bank when I heard Dad crashing through the underbrush hollering for me. I answered back and he came over to the steep bank where I was and helped me up. He scolded me for going too near the water but I didn't care. I was holding the prize of my young life, that big fat Mallard. We hunted on a bit farther and I got to see Dad make a high passing shot on a Black Duck. But that paled in comparison to the Mallard I was holding. I don't remember anything else about the hunt, but it doesn't matter. The damage was done.

Here I sit 50 years later, Mallard feathers in the trash can from a duck I killed yesterday and gave to my Father for his supper last night. I have forgiven him even though he is the one to blame.

Chincoteague Island

I truly love Brant shooting. Something about those little sea geese really appeals to me. Can't quite put a finger on it, but I love to shoot them. When they are feeding on eel grass I truly love to eat them too.

I have an old friend from Tom's River, NJ who always talked about shooting Brant. I attempted to book a hunt up on Barnegat Bay, NJ but it fell through and I haven't ever gotten around to trying again. I figured the next best place was Chincoteague Island. Turned out to be a great trip. Hunted with Captain Wayne Lewis. He guides for fish in the Summer and waterfowl in the Winter. Really knows the area and has blinds in great locations. Kelly and I shot limits of Brant each day. Killed three banded birds the second day we ever hunted up there, can't beat that. Wayne's Brant blinds are located on a shallow reef out in Chincoteague Bay. The reef is covered with "Brant Salad", a dark green leafy grass that I have also heard referred to as sea lettuce. The birds flock to it by the thousands to feed. I would have to say that Brant taste better when feeding on eel grass like they do down at Cape Hatteras. But the shooting was top notch.

The Brant move in and out of the Bay on some schedule based partly on the tides and partly on how hungry they are. Or sometimes when they get pressured they will move around. We went out before daylight both mornings and the Brant moved within an hour or two. But I had a friend hunt up there one year and they shot puddleducks in the morning and shot their Brant after noon each day. So I guess the Brant are going to move into the Bay to feed a couple times most days. Brant tip up, but don't dive. So they need the water level at no more than 10-12 inches deeper than the food source and preferably have the water right at the top of the vegetation. Makes it easy to get a cripple if you have one. They show a lot of white and never dive so if you knock them down they are going to end up on your duck strap.

Can't say much about the highly touted duck and goose shooting out there. There are thousands of Snow Geese on the big Wildlife Refuge, but a lady who runs a bird-cleaning service told me that most years she rarely processes a Snow Goose after opening weekend of the season. The birds get educated really fast. I have a friend who goes to Chincoteague Island to duck hunt and has been very satisfied. There are huge marshes all around the island and if your timing is right you can kill a wide variety of puddleducks and divers. But to me the Brant hunting is the reason to go there.

Chincoteague Island is a really neat place. Very old, very quaint little community. Sort of a tourist mecca, but in the Winter it was really nice. Between the decoy shops, the art galleries and the wildlife refuge there is plenty to do and see. There is also an ice cream parlor - The Island Creamery, that occupied more of my time than any of the other attractions. :-)

We stayed at the Sea Hawk Motel right in the middle of town. Right across the street from the Creamery. Only had about a 1 minute drive to meet the guide at the city dock. About a 15 minute boat ride out to the blind we hunted. It was a large blind. Only about 6' by 6' shooting area, which was the second floor. The boat well was about 25' long with a ladder up through a trap door to get into the top floor. Whatever, it worked fine for the Brant. He had other, normal blinds, but they had no boat well. So, when Capt Lewis took out new clients he put them in the big blind rather than one of the other blinds, so he could stay with you and coach you on when to shoot and retrieve the birds. I will insist that I hunt one of the smaller blinds next time, but we killed our birds, and then some, so I'm not complaining.

Normally I wouldn't comment on the non-shooting parts of a hunting trip, but Capt Lewis told us to try out a certain restaurant, The Island Family Restaurant. It was probably the best food I've ever eaten in my life. One night we each had a dinner that consisted of prime rib and fried monster shrimp stuffed with crab meat. Just to think about it is almost enough to make me drive up there tomorrow just to eat there again. So if you go to Chincoteague Island to hunt, don't miss it.

Gunning on the Outer Banks

A few years back I decided to take a hunting trip out to the Outer Banks. I looked over the internet and found a few guides. I called a couple of them and got a strong sales pitch about the tremendous shooting they had every day of the season, year after year, regardless of the weather, regardless of the time of year. So I decided there must not be any shooting at all out there. But I really wanted to go, so I called one more guide, Ken Dempsey Guide Service out of Hatteras, NC. He asked me if I was a duck hunter and when I replied that I was he said then I realized that there were no guarantees. He said he had good days and not so good days. He said the weather was a big factor out there. He told me that they didn't kill a wide variety of ducks out there; Redheads, Pintails, and Brant made up the vast majority of his shooting. I immediately booked a hunt with him. I have gone back each year that I can afford to. Ken puts out a great decoy spread, has strong blinds and works hard to move you around to get the best shooting for the conditions. Redheads, Pintails and Brant. Really have to twist my arm to get me to shoot them.

Cape Hatteras is a pretty desolate place in mid-winter. Not a lot to do except duck hunt. But if you can stand a little wind, can stand a little cold, and can stand shooting Brant you ought to give Ken a call. Not only is Ken a good guide, but after just one trip out there I consider Ken to be a good friend of mine. Doesn't get much better than that.

Ken has several blinds out on the Hatteras Reef. I guess out there you lease an area and it is yours to build a blind on and no one can bother you. Pretty cool. His blinds are big, solid, well brushed with cedar, and all of them are in about 2 feet of water. Makes for a real easy hunt. He puts out big decoys spreads: 75 ducks, 50 goose and brant decoys. Big oversize, well painted decoys. The blinds don't have any boatwell, so after Ken drops you off at the blind, he gives you a radio and then he goes to another blind a 1000 yards away or so and stays in touch with you if you need anything. Really works out good. If the weather changes he will take you to a different blind, he keeps decoys set out at a couple blinds each day to allow for weather changes. All in all Ken Dempsey runs a good hunt.

Both my sons have been out there with me and both of them want that to become a regular part of our season. Truly a classic way to hunt waterfowl.

Eider Hunting in Maine

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to try shooting Eiders up on the coast of Maine. Well, this year I finally got around to it. It was every bit as good as I had hoped. I went in January, which can be a little risky due to severe Winter weather, but that is when I could get vacation time. Actually got lucky on the weather. It was COLD but not as bad as it usually is that time of year. For a Southern Boy, 6 degrees and 33 mph wind is a little rough. But the birds flew well. I did wait too long to make the trip though. The limit is down to 4, a few years ago it was 7. So I guess I should have gotten up there sooner. January is not the preferred time to go for another reason. The Scoters and Oldsqauw are pretty much all gone by then. We didn't see any Scoters at all, and only a handful of Oldsquaw. They were sitting out in 100 foot deep water, not coming in to the mussel beds to feed at all. Live and learn. When my sons want to go up, they can go earlier in the season.

Stayed at a beautiful Lodge on Alamoosook Lake. The guide picked us up there each morning and we had about a half hour drive to the ramp for the area where we were hunting; Blue Hill Bay. Nice boat ramp and only a 15 minute boat ride to the area where we set up. He had a big 23' War Eagle boat with a nice blind on it so the ride was very comfortable. He had a really nice setup for long lining his decoys. Used huge Quack brand Eider decoys. It all worked out great. The guide had hunted that way for years and had a good system so no time was wasted. Might try some other part of Maine the next time I go, but I really do hope to get back up there someday. The Eiders were beautiful. Huge birds, but very graceful in flight. They reminded me of Canvasbacks, the way they turned and banked when coming to the decoys. Probably should have had one mounted, the fellow I hunted with left a pair with a local taxidermist, but I cheaped out. Oh well, next time...

A Rainy Day

Tomorrow is the last day of our Duck Season and it is forecast to rain. Looks like a real gully washer coming our way, so I guess I'll sit at home and feel sorry for myself. Today we only got to hunt for a couple hours and the wind got so strong that we had to leave. If I take vacation to duck hunt, I absolutely hate to miss a day because of weather. I have to work regardless of the weather, so I hate it when I can't play when the weather is bad.

Not a very good season this year. I hate it for a few reasons. First - I have a new Lab puppy and I was hoping to get a lot of birds down, for him to really get him interested in our sport. Second - I like to shoot ducks everyday. Third - I am getting old, and might not have that many more years to hunt.

First Goose Hunt in Argentina

If you haven't ever been to Argentina, then you should start saving your money and plan to go. I am not a rich man by any means, and it has been tough, financially, but it has been well worth it.

45 years ago I watched Curt Gowdy and friends shooting Magellan Geese on 'American Sportsman'. It was the first hunting show I ever saw on TV. They told a little about their trip to Argentina, but I don't remember anything about it, except for the geese. It took me a long time, but I finally made it. Well worth the wait.

We stayed at a ranch named Monte Grande (Big Forest) near Tres Arroyos while hunting geese. They fed us good and treated us great. I went out to the bunkhouse and drank beer and sang and danced with the bird boys in the evening. The rancher even snuck out there and smoked cigarettes and played his guitar. Just seemed to have more fun hanging out with the common people than I did with the rich guys. Not that the crowd I was with weren't nice guys, a couple of them I became good friends with, but the simple life suits me better. Didn't know it at the time, but it was also the beginning of my very close relationship with the bird boys, which would pay me great dividends in the years to come.

We shot mostly in harvested sunflower fields. The geese will dig to get at the left over grain, they love it. They are hunted so sparingly that you don't need much camouflage, just hold reasonably still and let the decoys and electronic callers do the work. We used 2 3/4 " number 3 shot. Yes, the geese came in plenty close for good clean kills. Actually I took a few boxes of 3" number 2's down there the first season. Not sure if it was even legal to take them, but nobody said anything about it at the time. So I sort of showed off a little with some long range shots after the other hunters quit shooting, but really didn't need them.


We shot geese each morning and they let us shoot at a roosting pond one evening. That was a real hoot. The geese were late arriving, it was almost dark. Then suddenly they were everywhere. We shot 135 in about 15 minutes. I could stand to do that again. (No wait I did it again the second time I went down there.)


We shot mostly Magellans, along with Ashey Heads. The very first morning I got real lucky. The outfitter was creeping along behind us, heading back to his truck. Just as he passed by where I was sitting I killed a pair of geese. One of them fell in the field with me, the other fell over a fence right next to the outfitter. He picked it up and looked at it, then came up to me and got the second one of that pair that I had shot. I thought he was just gathering up some birds. Back at the ranch he showed me what I had killed; a pair of Ruddy Headed Geese. Turns out they became a disaster for goose hunting down there. They are very rare in Argentina and the current government almost stopped goose shooting entirely in order to preserve the Ruddy Headed Geese. The laws are slowly changing back, but at least I got to kill an additional species while it was still legal. It would take a good eye to tell them from the female Lesser Magellan on the wing. That was the reason why goose hunting was almost stopped. Hopefully that will all be put to rest soon, so normal goose hunting can crank up again down there.


I shot geese my first two trips to Argentina, then when the law changed I switched over to just straight duck hunting trips. I am really a duck hunter at heart, but still look forward to shooting geese down there again as soon as they get the laws all squared away.

We moved to a ranch named La Tierra (the land) near Tres Algarrobos when we duck hunted. We shot in pairs on small sheet water ponds out in the middle of pasture fields. The ducks had been shot hard already (we went late to make sure the geese would be there) but we still had great shooting. One morning I shot 93 ducks, the next 100. Haven't overshot them since then, but it was fun to start off my Argentina adventures with a bang.

We killed a bunch of different species of ducks, but I didn't kill a Rosy Billed Pochard the first year. Made up for that the next time.