We headed out for Duck Camp 2010 on Friday, September 17th. Saturday was the early season opener. We didn’t know quite what to expect, as this was our first real duck season. Last year we went out on opening day with Roxi, but chose an offbeat place to go so that we newbies wouldn’t bother anyone. That strategy didn’t pay off, as there was a pretty good reason no one else went there—not many ducks. We also went 2x later in the season, without the dogs, and sat in a friends blind where they did manage to bring a few down. This time, we knew we were going to a friends good backwater location along the river, and we had both shorthairs along.

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On opening day, 8 of us headed out into the swamp. Clint and I had a plan of going to a pond just off of our friend’s private ground. So we ATV in as far as we can on our friends fenceline, and then start across some public ground. Unfortunately we didn’t get a chance to scout it the night before, but we had a basic idea of which direction to head. So after trudging through a forest with an understory of poison ivy, we popped out along the levee, not having found the pond...with shooting time fastly approaching. As Clint fixes some gear he’s carrying, I walk ahead and see some water sparkling through another forested section. I declare “I’ve found it!”, just as I hear another person call for their dog from that direction. My heart sank. We had no idea how many folks had settled around this little pond, and decided it was best to move on. With no backup plan, we crossed over the levee, in search of another area. We barely got on the river side of the levee before guns started going off. We plunked down with Roxi on the hillside, with a shallow pothole in front of us. Quite a few ducks flew over, but they were either too far off or it was an awkward shot with them coming over the back of the levee. Clint took some shots, but it just wasn’t to be. Meanwhile, the guy at the pond surely got his limit, by the sounds of it.
Then it was off to do some training and let the dogs cut loose.

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Clint had to try out a friends new "Final Attack" duck boat/blind.[img]http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa283/redhotroxi/Duck%20Camp%202010/DSCN3770_0912_edited-1.jpg[/img]

Later, we head back out to the same pond. We came in on an odd side, and I had to use my waders for the first time in 3’ deep water. I couldn’t wait to get out of the muddy water. Glad to have waders, just in case, but I’d rather not have to use them. Couldn’t have been there more than 15 minutes when two woodies fly through the far end of the pond. Clint shoots, but nothing falls. A few minutes later and he downs one on the far end. He says it dropped and then headed for the bank, where he took his 2nd shot. Roxi and I were hiding a little further back under the forest canopy, to where she couldn’t mark the fall, my mistake I now realize. So we send her. She goes out 40’ and turns back, so Clint sends her again. We’ve been working hard on duck searches lately, and it is starting to sink in. She takes off on a terrific line across the pond, probably 75 yards to the other side. As she gets within 50’ she starts baying like a hound, and then hits the shore and goes into tracking mode. Tracking mode quickly turns into a search as she loops through the same forested area repeatedly, continuing to bay. We have no clue where the duck went, as she couldn’t produce it and we spent some 20 minutes looking for it as well. I have to wonder if it somehow made it to the water and dove. It was disappointing to come up empty handed.

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Next time out, we stuck to private property, and hunkered down next to some willows on a small dike/beaver dam. This is a hot spot for woodies. Would’ve only liked to have taken drakes, but with a novice eye, the first down would be a hen woody. Roxi marked the fall and was amped up as she headed across the water for the retrieve. The next to fall would be a beautiful drake woody. It fell about 50 yards away near a shoreline. As Roxi swam out for it, the drake headed for some downfall and just reached the shore as she snagged it. The final woody was another hen and shot on the opposite side of the dike, as Roxi was retrieving the drake. While we had been preoccupied, Clint saw the downed hen struggle to shore and go across about 3’ of muddy bank and into some grass. Roxi had no mark on this, and we had to resend her a couple times to get her across the water. Once we got her sent across, she ran that muddy bank many times, but wasn’t hitting on anything. Clint eventually headed to where he visually marked the bird, and after a few moments, found it hidden behind a bunch of grass under an undercut bank. Why Roxi didn’t hit on where it went across the bank, I’ll never know. I’ll just have to chalk it up to lack of experience, being it was her first duck hunt. I was still proud of the girl for the way she handled, retrieved, and put the effort in.

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Roxi and her limit of woodies.[img]http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa283/redhotroxi/Duck%20Camp%202010/DSCN3768_0910_edited-1.jpg[/img]

It rained all weekend and duck camp got a little too wild for the tent on Saturday night.

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The dogs didn't want any down time, and were on the ready.
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Besides ducks, and a few small groups of canadas, there must've been 500 pelicans swarming about.

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Next time out, it’s Brandi’s turn. We head to the dike again, with about an hour before sunset. Brandi’s behaving better than I thought she would and is pretty quiet for the most part. Ducks are much more sparse in the evening, but Clint manages to bring down a woody drake. Brandi didn’t get a good mark, since we were hiding in a patch of willows. And to give you a good laugh, the darn little dog started pulling so hard at the shot, that I couldn’t get my feet under me from a sitting position while wearing my ill-fitting waders. So Clint had to help me out, and take her while I got on my feet. He sent her and she dawdled on the shore for a moment, using her eyes to try to spot the duck. On a second command, she goes in, taking a line that should get her right to the duck. The duck had landed probably 80 yards away near a shoreline, but in the commotion of getting Brandi to the water’s edge, we had lost site of it. We see her catch scent probably 50’ from shore, and she continues on and up the bank. She goes around some brush and a large tree trunk, and out pops the drake flapping in front of her. The drake hits the water with Brandi in fast pursuit. It makes it about 15’ from shore and dives. My heart sank a little, as I know how hard diving ducks are, especially for an inexperienced dog. She repeatedly was able to locate the duck, and it repeatedly dived, with no safe shot available. The last few times, it came up under her front legs and she got a little spooked. She headed back towards us at that point. I stared and stared and stared at the water, trying to see where the duck popped up, and finally saw it’s flattened out profile skimming through some duck weed even farther out. Brandi was safe, so Clint took a shot. The duck dove at the shot and was not seen again. We both know that we have to find this duck for her and make this a success, so Clint heads out in his waders and Brandi charges ahead of him, plowing through the water. As he gets around 100 yards out, I yelled at him that there’s only one place that duck could be and that’s a large clump of buck brush ahead of him. Otherwise it would’ve had to go to shore, or to a willow island much farther away, or it would still be visible on open water. So Clint heads to about a 10’ clump of buck brush. Brandi seems to be hitting on the buck brush too and is circling repeatedly. After Clint gives it a thorough going through with his eyes, he spots the duck towards the center of the clump. He would’ve liked to have just grabbed it, but couldn’t reach in that far. He called Brandi over and focused her in that direction, and she started ripping into the brush, separating the branches with her shoulders. But in her struggle, the duck dove again. We all kept our eyes open for it to reappear, and Clint and Brandi circled the brush several times in an attempt to spot it again. Brandi then showed some great independence and heads back to the previous spots she’d seen the duck and on to the willow island farther out. We are incredibly frustrated at this point that we can’t get her that duck, and Clint decides on a whim that he’s going to stick his hands in the water and feel around...because surely the duck couldn’t have gotten far. So he’s bent over and up to his elbows feeling around the buck brush branches, when he feels some wings flap on the chest of his waders. Sure enough, that duck had been below the water for several minutes, hanging onto branches and such. He snatches up the duck and calls Brandi back from the willow island and starts wading back to the dike we’d been sitting on. When he got within 30 yards, I suggested he throw the duck and we allow Brandi to retrieve it and bring it to shore, to complete the scenario. Well, Clint had put a little squeeze on the duck on the way in, and thought he had it in a wayward state...and I actually assumed it was dead when he threw it for her. Wrong! He threw the duck and it dove. At this point I’m wondering if us amateur duck hunters are ever going to get this woody before nightfall, for this young dog that’s done such a great job. Fortunately, the duck only had about 3 dives in it and then made the mistake of coming up almost on shore. Brandi went for it, and not wanting her to get spooked again, I gave her some words of encouragement. “Get It” was enthusiastically roared by me, and she grabbed that drake and gave him one good shake that all but finished him off. While her first duck hunt went far from perfect, we got it done and learned some lessons along the way. I have her woody in the freezer, contemplating getting it mounted to commemorate our first hunt. Whether or not we ever mount the drake, it’s a hunt I will never forget.

Brandi and her woody drake.

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