By Barry Schatz
I went duck hunting again last Saturday. It was the
second time in my life I sat in a duck blind. The first time was a couple
weeks ago. It was warmer then.
My neighbor Tom wasn't coming which meant the ham sandwiches
he made on the first outing would also be absent. It was up to me to bring proper
food to get me through the morning. I didn't have any ham so I scrounged
in the kitchen and grabbed what was handy. In a plastic grocery bag, I packed
four apples, two bananas, and a sleeve of Fig Newtons.
I crossed Grand Lake with Mr. Doyle in his slick
duck boat, Old Reliable. It didn't matter what the boat looked like, Old Reliable
was good at floating and that's all that mattered to me.
The boat motor was another story. After five minutes,
Mr. Doyle tired of wrestling with the ancient outboard and left it
in his Jeep. An electric trolling motor would propel us to our
island duck blind.
I quickly made myself aware of the exact location of my life
jacket when the electric trolling motor went silent. That's not saying much
as the only sound electric boat motors make is the quiet gurgling of the
propeller stirring up the water.
I surveyed our location and saw we were exactly
half way between the mainland and our island destination. It turned
our technical difficulties were caused by a loose battery cable. When
Mr. Doyle adjusted the clips, the battery sparked. I suddenly became aware of
the smell of spilled gas floating on the water at the bottom of Old Reliable.
I pulled my life jacket with two hands and envisioned
myself rolling over the side of the boat like a walrus. I knew
the water would be cold but in the darkness, somebody would surely see the flaming
boat and either come rescue us or applaud the show. Fortunately, in less
then a minute, Mr. Doyle had us gurgling on our way.
I was told to dress warm because sitting in a duck blind
means exactly that. You sit! Without moving, the body gets cold
quicker. I thought about asking if shivering would be considered excessive
movement and would scare the ducks away. I decided I would sound
just a little too green.
Talking is allowed. As Mr. Doyle says, duck hunting
is one of the only forms of social hunting. If two people chatted
in a deer blind, Bambi would be in the next county before you knew it.
It was still dark out when I settled into my chair
and propped my feet up on a log. I closed my eyes and listened to the waves
roll onto the rocky shore. Thinking about the fact that I could be horizontal
in my warm, soft, comfy bed was a forbidden thought. One could
go mad thinking of such luxuries in a duck blind. Every once in a while,
I opened my eyes just a crack. It was a little lighter each time did.
That was kind of cool.
Soon I could see without my flashlight and checked
my equipment. My trusty Sony was charged with plenty a fresh
video tape. My Fig Newtons hadn't been crushed by my flashlight.
I decided to have a banana. I offered one to Mr. Doyle but he passed.
He wanted to be good and hungry when he went home. A cup of coffee and
the homemade apple pie his wife Linda had baked would taste all the better
that way.
Fresh apple pie. I had eaten a piece
of Linda's pie the night before and decided the banana wasn't going to satisfy my
belly. From under a camouflaged blanked, I dug into the white
plastic grocery bag and grabbed the sleeve of Newtons.
A thick cedar tree blocked my view of Mr. Doyle, but
I pictured him watching the sky for birds. I offered him some of
my snack but again, he refused. I decided the only thing Mr. Doyle craved
(besides apple pie) was roasted duck and any offer other than that would
be unacceptable.
Surrounded
by cedar trees, I watched the waves of Grand Lake race by as I ate Newtons. Being
a soft cookie, there were no crunching sounds to break the peaceful silence.
I had brought a few bottles of water and washed down my snack.
I was a bit disappointed there was no burp. If there's one place a guy should
be able to burp and still be accepted, it's while hunting with the guys.
Just because the sky is light doesn't mean the sun is up.
I looked to the West and saw a row of clouds that looked like they were on fire.
I realized an opportunity to get some sunrise pictures and decided to try
and move. Sitting in the chilly morning air had stiffened me up pretty good
for a guy my age. Fortunately there was a handy cedar bow hanging just above
my head. I gave a pull on the branch and dragged myself out of the chair.
I was impressed with how my camera lens gave the rising sun a star effect. The
first time I came duck hunting, we were in very thick fog. Today, the visibility
was clear so I ended up with different photographic opportunities.
(I didn't mention the starry sky when we launched Old Reliable. Very
cool)
We had a couple visitors that morning. Our neighbor
Phil and his son Jordan came buzzing by in their boat. Mr. Doyle waved them
in. It was about 9:00 at that point and they were getting a late
start. it was much warmer however.
Phil told me he had fixed my cable so our TV would have a
much better picture. That was VERY cool.
It was 10:00 and we were about to start to pulling decoys when three
migrating ducks that I'll call Moe, Larry, and Curly flew by. Mr.
Doyle gave one toot on his duck call and the trio turned back toward our
spread of plastic ducks and geese. I could hear Mr. Doyle's stomach growl the
second he realized Moe and Larry would be joining him for dinner.
As it turned out, Curly went home with Phil and Jordan.
Old
Reliable disguised as a bush.
