In life you need a bucket list, and on mine for a long
time has been a hunting trip to Lake Ellesmere. In geographical terms the lake, which
lies west of Banks Peninsula is very young at something like 5,000 years old.
The lake is like a rather large and shallowish lagoon, which opens to the sea
either naturally or by the hand of man.
It is an absolute haven for wildfowl
and hosts a massive number of ducks, a stack of geese and innumerable other
species. (For example until this week I had seen maybe half a dozen White Heron
[kotuku] in my life; so to have a pair circling just overhead on Monday morning
was simply stunning).
Last year at this when talking with my mate Tim as he stood
lakeside he let a hen mallard go by as he stood in full view while she decoyed,
I realised that I just had to go. I told him on the spot that I would be
tagging along for a few days (like he had a choice in the matter) next year. We caught up occasionally during the duration
of our short duck season, and his longer (2 month) Wellington season. I booked
my air tickets, ummed and arred about what gear to take, and we began to plan
in earnest. I figured my part would be easiest, as Tim had travelled the area
for a month for each of the 3 preceding years. We decided that I’d fly to Masterton, he’d
grab me from the airport and we’d head to his place to catch up and have a
meal, sleep for a bit, drive to Wellington and catch the 02.40am ferry to
Picton. Then drive to our accommodation outside of Lincoln, the university town.
(Tim informed me that Selwyn district was the fastest growing in NZ).
As usual when getting away from work prior to a break, an
emergency crops up. I worked my way through it as calmly as possible, all the
while in the back of my mind knowing that I hadn’t yet packed for the trip. Got
home, laid out my gear, checked off the mental check list. Got the gun case,
broke the gun down, locked the case. Packed everything in to duffel bag.
Waders. Gumboots. Jacket, insulated inner, sleeping bag. Anyway, a whole
shitwack of gear.
Said bye to the family and got to the airport in time. Made
the airport, checked in gun and gear, and sat in the departures area drinking a
beer and thinking. Plane left on time and arrived at Masterton on time as well.
Got bag, took receipt of gun and walked out of the terminal to meet Tim. The next part didn’t go to plan….. well the
sleep part anyway. We ended up catching up well into the evening and soon had
gone past the point of no return. The time arrived to hit the road and we chucked
Max the lab in the back, trundled over the Rimutakas, through the respective
Hutts, past Petone and casually past the turnoff for the ferry – being a
country lad naturally Tim had a conniption so I directed him off onto Aotea
Quay, we did a u’ey and were in the right place soon enough. It was cold out,
too cold to get out of the vehicle. A nasty wind was blowing so I hoped like
hell the crossing would be ok (last time across on the ferry it was a hellish 5
hours of smashing into 6m swells. Crew and passengers took a pasting). Once
aboard we found a spot to watch the tennis – little did I know I’d be watching
the longest semi-final in Wimbledon’s history. And watch it I did, in its
entirety as Tim slept on the floor. Once at Picton we drove off the ferry and
headed up to Blenheim where we watered Max at the Wairau River before pulling
in for coffee at McDonalds. The wind was howling overhead and the drive down
the Kaikoura coast was freaky – 100m offshore the wind was whipping up
waterspouts; onshore trees were down every few metres and a huge truck unit had
blown across the road and tipped over. Next stop St Anne’s lagoon for a walk,
then Cheviott, then onwards. Finally we arrived at Lincoln and drove to The
Lodge, our home base. We got our gear in, said hi to Sam who is living there
and made ourselves at home. The power had been cut by the storm, but came back
on at 2pm. By this stage having been awake for 30+ hours straight I was feeling
pretty light headed by the time we hit the supermarket to get supplies in. The
afternoon seemed to whiz by and soon we were getting stuck into a meal prepared
by Sam. We snuck out for a hunt with no joy, then back for a few beers and a
rugby match later and I was wiped out from lack of of sleep so hit the hay –
next day we’d be hunting.
Sunday
Up at 5, toast in toaster, coffee in mugs and we were off.
Our destination was the NE end of the lake where we’d lay out 2 dozen decoys
and try to hit anything that came by. We had a bit of a navigation moment
before finding our way to the famous Birdling’s Flat. We drove to our get out
point, loaded up with decoy and blind bags, grabbed the guns and headed out to
a maimai we could see in the gloom. The NW wind was steady – certainly not the
gale of the previous day. As I took my first step into Lake Ellesmere, I had a
breath-taking moment… my waders had sprung a leak! It was a cool morning but
luckily the water was only about shin deep so it would be only a wet foot as
opposed to leg. We set the decoys and sat back to watch. Geese were in the bay
but well out of range. In the morning gloom, ducks were moving. A pair of swan
came into range and I shot the lead bird – my first Ellesmere bird. Tim got a
shot in on a grey duck and brought it down. As the sun rose it became obvious
that birds were avoiding the maimai (unsurprisingly) – however they were
traversing the main lake shoreline so after a few hours we decided to take a
walk across the lagoon to the spit and check out the lake. It took a few
minutes to get over there and we quickly scoped a spot that would put us in
calling range of passing birds. As we were deciding on a spot a brace if
mallards approached - we sat down in the salt bush and when they came in range
I shot the drake bird, my first Ellesmere duck! To say I was stoked is an
understatement. We got the gear packed out and sat in the truck planning our
next morning’s hunt. On the way home we passed the Kaituna Lagoon which was
absolutely stacked with mallards. I’d never seen anything quite like it in my
life – the birds were sheltering from the NW wind and had arrived in their
thousands. I can’t convey in words how many ducks were piled in there… but they
were quite safe from us.
Back to the hut to hang the birds, have coffee and lunch and
a chit-chat with Sam. That afternoon we decided on a hunt on the northern shore
close to base. We took a couple of floating dekes and a wing spinner, found a
decent sized back water pond and got ourselves ready. The evening was stunning
and I just loved being out there. The ducks that did move were up high and no
chances were had.
Monday
Up at 5, toast in toaster, coffee in mugs and we were off.
This morning we’d be catching up with Andrew, a mate of Tim’s. We caught up in
the allotted spot, drove to the parking spot and loaded up. We’d be lugging in
3 dozen duck and a few swan decoys. We splashed across the lagoon, across the
spit and set ourselves up at the spot we’d found yesterday. There was certainly
some breeze, but nothing like the wind of the day before. Andrew and I got some
old scrub and set up a low profile hiding spot while Tim set the dekes. By the
time we were done we were well hidden, with a good spread in front of us. The
hunt was memorable for the birds that decoyed in, the birds shot and missed,
Tim taking down a passing goose, me having to run into the deke spread to scare
out a poor drake that obviously had nookie on his brain. We all had some great
shooting and ended up with over a dozen birds by mid-morning, when Kelvin
arrived in his jet boat. He and I went for a blast around the Northern part of
the lake, what a fantastic experience! We put up fowl of all types and the
numbers were staggering. Teal blackened the sky, mallards and geese charged in
all directions… before settling where they took off from. Kel dropped me back
and we said our good-byes.
 |
| Ellesmere fist-pump! |
We grunted the gear back to the trucks, bade farewell to
Andrew and headed back to base for lunch. A quick kip and we readied ourselves
for an evening hunt. The wind had suddenly gone to the south and was strengthening
so things looked good. We arrived at the pond early, tucked down in sunken
maimais surrounded by rushes, loaded up and waited. As can happen when
conditions are right, we had an awesome hunt. First in were 5 parries, 5 down.
4 swan swung downwind, turned and came in feet down. None escaped. Mallards,
teal and parries came in continually, so by closing time we had a good mixed
bag in hand. What a hunt!
Tuesday
Up at 5, toast in toaster, coffee in mugs and we were off.
This time in the opposite direction. We’d decided to head south and look for a
bay where we could set up a reasonable spread. This morning would prove to be a
bust from a hunting point of view but from every other perspective it was
great. Great to be in a new place, great to witness nature’s powers with
devastated maimais washed up on the shore, and best of all we were visited by
no less than 3 kotuku. After a couple of hours of listening to geese we pulled
the pin and went for a mission to find birds. As we headed south we passed the
Boggy Creek reserve, had a look at Hart’s Creek reserve and then found what
we’d been looking for – ducks. Not lots, but tucked up in a bay were small
mobs, whilst teal filled the rest of the bay. We checked the WAMS site,
realised it was public reserve – game on….
Wednesday
Up at 5, toast in toaster, coffee in mugs and we were off.
(Original huh?). After locating Andrew we set off for our hunting spot and
arrived to find access restricted. A quick scout around in the dark and we
found a way in, another decoy laden slog. The wind was whipping through the bay
and waves pumping. Our first challenge was the sucking mud just a few metres
offshore, both Andrew and I found ourselves cast, me because with my dodgy knee
I just couldn’t bend it to get out, and Andrew ‘cos he’s a big unit and simply
sank. Tim set the dekes while we worked on freeing ourselves, then finally we
were set. Soon birds began to move, teal and mallards with the occasional black
scaup. The first ducks to arrive landed well offshore and swam in, I stood when
they were 40m away and wounded one of the pair. Cursing myself I began to wade
out when a mallard drake came over high and fast with the wind behind him and I
pulled off a shot I was quite proud of. The drake hit the water and began to drift
along shore, meanwhile the earlier bird was paddling down wind. Max picked up the drake and then we ran down
the shoreline where he picked up the first bird, a hen. I wandered back with
the birds and sat back to let the others take the next few shots. We had a
great hunt, with birds turning up throughout the morning and finished with a
dozen mallards.
 |
| Yet another bluddy fist-pump |
I have a new appreciation for the big water hunting now, with a
number of opportunities lost through not taking shots when offered. You gotta
be in to win this game.
Sitting in Christchurch airport that evening I reflected on 7
very different hunts over the 4 days I spent at Ellesmere. None of the
successful hunts happened without 2 vital ingredients:
1.
Scouting to find birds
2.
Wind
Get those right and you’re a chance.
Another tick off my bucket list.
