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.