And it was good

As I was approaching the Bombay's on the motorway on Friday evening, I got a call from Tim - when I asked where he was he said that he was tucked in behind my truck and boat, so we had a mini convoy to the swamp. The trip was uneventful and soon enough we pulled in and met Milo who was returning to the swamp for the first time in a few years. Andy turned up soon after so we launched our boats and headed down river. Having unloaded, opened the hut and got the fire going Andy put some flounder into the pan; Milo, Tim & I went out to set some decoys for the morning hunt. It was damn cold; so getting back to the warm hut and scoffing flounder, broccoli and mashed spuds was just what the doctor ordered. We sat and smack talked and solved the world's problems until well after midnight... and the all too soon Tim's alarm was quacking its duck noise. We all looked a bit like walking wounded but we got to the pond with time to get the electronic decoys sorted and settle back and wait. A few birds were moving and as the sky lightened 4 ducks came past low enough to be interesting; we put the hail calls on and suddenly a pair set their wings and dived in from several hundred feet - full commitment. We bagged them and over the next couple of hours put a few more ducks in the bag. As usual the maimai talk was lively and varied, and as usual time ticked over way too fast. We worked up a plan for the rest of the day which involved Andy and I grunting around under flooded willows while Milo, Tim and Quinn minded the pond. Turns out that around about then I figured I was on dinner duty and we'd eaten our dinner sausages for breakfast, so we decided to roast some ducks. We cleaned 3 birds, whipped up some stuffing and then put the birds in a camp oven with sherry, salt, pepper, some mandarins and a little sugar.

Then, off to pincer move the ducks. Andy and I set off, but our quietest effort simply spooked birds out well ahead of us. Walking around in drowned fallen willows with all the branches, roots and windfall in calf to thigh deep water is never going to be an exercise in stealth... I ranged out to one of the neighbour's ponds and took a grey duck as it jumped. Getting back to the rendezvous point, we set off to see if we could push some ducks that Andy had seen drop back into the trees. Turned out to be a good move, as by the time we got back to the hut we'd picked up 5 birds between us, including 1 that Andy's dog had nabbed. After a while we jumped into Andy's boat to go and check out a few other spots, and while I was away in the trees Andy picked up another bird with a nice shot. The tally now was about a dozen, and we were quite pleased to have moved so many birds and taken a good number. Andy's shooting was better than ever too, which was neat to see.

We got back to the hut for a cuppa and a bit of rest, my legs felt quite taxed. Dinner went on and then it was off for a night hunt which was eventful if only because we were buzzed by teal. Back to base for dinner and then Milo and I pulled out and headed home.

The drive home gave me plenty of time to reflect on the 6 weeks that have flown by, and what a fine duck season it has been.