It was all a blur. We came in hot and got right to it. My hopes were high and only stoked by our brief survey of the marshes before the opener. Geese. Ducks. Coots. Birds were around, but by the second day, coots were all we had a crack at, and so although I was still hopeful, I was admittedly worried.
Our spot the first day seemed ducky, and we’d had a chance or two, but the weather Sunday seemed duckier- a stiff north wind with near continuous, light to moderate rain. We opted for the same location, beating out the competition again and having our pick of spots. This time we set up further out on the point. Although it has no tides, I learned that a strong wind will pull water from the leeward side of shore and this effect can be pronounced. The second day in the same spot, with a 16+ mph wind, there was over a foot less water where we set up our spread. Having worked the kinks out the first day, the decoys went out quicker and looked better. It helped that shallower water was easier to walk in.
Despite the rain, inside the brushed-in boat, with the beavertail cover up it was relatively cozy. Though it was darker at shooting light than the day before, right away we were seeing more ducks moving. As I fumbled through my pockets inside my waders to find and pull out my calls, I heard Eric and Corey call some incoming from our left. In a moment they were shooting. Their first shots may have missed, but Eric shot again and I heard Corey say, “nice shot, man.”
Eric immediately hopped out to retrieve his duck. Based on their exchanged, it sounded like he had folded it mid-air and I expected a quick retrieve, but it was taking him a while to come back with the bird. Finally a shot rang out to my relief. Upon returning to the blind, Eric presented his bird- a coot.
“What’s that?” Corey asked.
“I thought it was a big duck,” I followed, “just based on what you guys were saying…”
“I was pretty sure it was a big duck,” Corey affirmed.Eric shrugged.
“Was the coot injured? … it doesn’t look like it was shot twice.” I prodded.
He did eventually get out and look around for the duck more, but the wind was blowing away from us across the water and it was likely lost to the current.
Before long another big duck was crossing the decoys. I missed with my first shot and, lining up for a followup, fired at the same time as Corey. The bird folded and fell into the spread. I quickly hopped out to retrieve it in case more ducks were starting to move. It was a nice looking hen mallard that we chalked up to Corey’s bag as he felt good about the shot. Finally we had a duck on the boat.
Not long after I had returned to the blind, a teal landed just beyond the decoys on my side. Though birds were starting to fly, I figured one in the bag was worth whatever chances might be precluded by the noise of shooting, and quickly lined it up. It rolled over with the shot, and I got out in a hurry to get it. I got back to the blind, relaxed for a bit, ate a bar, and kept lookout with Corey while Eric searched around a bit for his original bird.
As the morning went on and the rain slowed up, the birds also seemed to settle down. Though we’d see singles and small groups off in the distance, few ducks came anywhere near our vicinity. Getting antsy and seeing ducks occasionally land in the shallow marsh behind us, I decided to take a walk. Almost immediately a coot bobbed out from the tall grass. Since Eric now had two on the trip, and the opportunity was perfect, I decided to take my first American coot.
I took it back to the blind before venturing out again, this time after a small flock of mallards landed in the shallow marsh. As I crept along, a lone circling mallard passed close, but just out of range. Afraid he would spook I ducked into the nearest reeds. As I stood there watching him circle away, a lone teal passed close by and dropped into the potholes ahead of me in the reeds. I crept along slowly, peering down lanes in the reeds and through the open potholes. When I saw the teal swim out from the reeds I was ready and fired quickly, putting my second teal in the bag.
Ducks trickled in as the morning went on, though shots were growing few and far between. Eric was out looking for his duck from earlier when at some point I could see a diving duck heading for us from straight across the water. It seemed to be going straight for the decoys. I’m fairly certain Eric shot just as it got in range, Corey and I both missing our first shots as it flared. I shucked the Wingmaster, took my time lining up the bead, and folded it high over the decoys with my second shot. It turned out to be a Hen ringneck, my third and final duck of the trip.
Our second day was markedly better than the first, and there was still upland hunting to do, but we were burning the candles at both ends- a long drive out and early morning were starting to catch up to me, and I was conscious of saving energy for the trip home… and of the fact that I would have to jump right into the swing of things when I returned. I hadn’t decided until later in the day, but this was the last day of duck hunting for me, although it would only get better from here. The day turned out to be a good one, and I was thrilled with my time on Green Bay and in the woods of northern Wisconsin.