Sunday, June 06, 2010 by Ramsey
It's true: In 2009 Argentina experienced a horrific drought,
maybe the worst in 100 years. And according to the news media, a
flu epidemic swept through the streets of Buenos Aires, infecting
every man, woman, child, tango dancer and parakeet in the city of
over 13 million. I visited pursuant to my twentieth-something South
America hunt, and I really didn't know what to expect. Called the
doctor ahead of travel for some flu meds and antibiotics over the
holiday after reading the WSJ, hearing first-hand from a group that
got sick while hunting in the southern BA province, and hearing
from clients with packed bags that had heard likewise, that flu was
inevitable. Loaded an extra supply of Sweet Lucy for good
measure.
Landed in BA after a near-sleepless night despite plenty of $5
beers and an ambient. That bum knee only 61 days post surgery
wouldn't get comfortable. I almost admitted to myself that the
orthopedic surgeon had been right when he advised
against duck hunting in Argentina. Almost. The dry
weather had us hunting way north of our usual area. The drive to
the estancia took twice the normal time, a brutal 6 hours. The
landscape was parched.
After we'd arrived we quickly ate a late lunch of empanadas,
changed cloths and caught the last hour of dove hunting a short
drive away. It was good to be out of the truck, in mercifully cold
air, away from a supposedly flu-ridden city, and under a great
flight of birds. Five boxes of shotshells quickly evaporated.
It suddenly felt great to be hunting in Argentina again. And
then the trip took an interesting turn.
Duck hunting is duck hunting the world over. I expect the
unexpected. Always. But when the wind is at your back on a
gorgeously clear, cold morning while standing in a blind in
foot-deep water and have only 8 ducks to show after nearly an
hour's worth of duck hunting in Argentina, well, you start to
seriously ponder what 
specifically (of the many) of your
egregious transgressions have so upset The Man Upstairs. Comments
from the long-time client, friend and PT with whom I shared the
blind, I can assure you, did nothing to make the situation more
bearable!
We soon learned that the blinds in the grass had shot well but
that we'd not heard the vollies because of wind direction.
Puck had removed his ear plugs because he thought he misunderstood
hearing that another blind had 78 and was out of
ammo. Seven or Eight? Nope, you heard
right. Moments like that, you understand that duck
hunting really is duck hunting the world over, that location is
everything, and that you best get your butts to the better blind.
Quickly. Within the scant 30 minutes of moving, we amassed a
respectable 43 with a fair amount of white-faced tree ducks to
boot. Argentina, baby.
The following morning was pure magic. A short walk across
shallow water in a marsh with a good hard bottom, lead into a
wake of duck you could hear but not see - wings beating and slicing
the air; quacks, whistles. With the opening in the grass out front,
the wind was quartering slightly into our faces from left to right.
Despite the low full moon and dark silhouettes of ducks, I
refrained from shooting early. I really don't shoot that well in
low light anyway. Besides, it was amazing just watching,
listening, absorbing such magnitude of ducks. It never gets
old.
Yellow-billed pintail and speckled teal dominated the morning
and the entire week, with a good mixture of Chiloe wigeon and
white-cheeked pintail and, to a lesser extent, the occasional red
shoveler, cinnamon teal and rosy-bill. In fact there were only two
rosey-bills my blind scored on the entire trip and no one even saw
a silver teal this time, it was just an unusual Argentina duck hunt
in the respect.
The shooting started slowly enough with the acute angle from our
backs and distance at which the ducks decoyed, but quickly
improved. For the most part it was singles and doubles with one
shooter or the other defending their respective side of the blind.
The two exceptions to this I can remember were a flock of 4 teal
and a massive flock of Chiloe wigeon. So steady was the flight that
at one time I rested for a cup of coffee and watched my hunting
partner work them over alone.
About 2.5 hours later the shooting
commenced, we were completely out of the allotted 5 boxes each of
shotshells, it was not quite 10 o'clock, and we had accomplished a
shooting feat that will be tough for us to repeat, but rest assured
we'll try: we missed the all-time lodge record by 4 ducks, and
exceeded my Argentina duck hunting personal best by 46.
The remainder of the week-long hunt was anti-climatic, just your
typical world-class Argentina duck hunting
during mornings. We shot doves during the afternoons near roosts.
One roost in particular that I paced at about a quarter-section had
what I'd guess to be a good half-million birds using it. A couple
of clients got as ambitious as to shoot a couple cases of shells,
but most of us shot a case or far fewer shells, worked on
percentages or angles, and visited in between shooting spells.
A pleasant surprise happened mid-way through the week
during an otherwise typical afternoon dove hunt in Argentina. Right
about the time I'd tired of shooting doves the wild pigeons
arrived. Icing on the cake. Ended up shooting "just one
more box" 3 or 4, maybe 5 times before calling it quits.
Finally left my position in the field nearly intoxicated from the
acrid smell of gunpowder. Not that I complained.
Related Links: Argentina Duck
Hunts, Argentina Duck Hunting
Jacana, Argentina
Duck Hunting Jacana Photo Gallery, Argentina Dove Hunts
Saturday, June 05, 2010 by Ramsey
This blog contribution is compliments GetDucks.com
Field Advisor, Mr. Pat Pitt. Pat and I travelled to Quebec
Canada in late-May 2010 for what became one of the best goose hunts
either of us have ever experienced. Greater snow
goose hunting in Quebec is a far more rewarding experience than
snow goose hunting anywhere else in the world.
Going to Quebec
is like going to France in many ways. It's like stepping into
another world and culture with the architecture, mannerisms and of
course the language which is more French than English. On the
mighty St. Lawrence River, I almost expected to see war canoes,
enactments of The French and Indian War and the Last of the
Mohicans in this area steeped in history. Ramsey and I flew to
Quebec City, Quebec and entered another world, another adventure
and a promising destination for future clients to enjoy as we did.
I must admit I was pleasantly surprised by this trip and wish I
could have stayed longer. It easily ranks among the top 5 or 6
destinations I have been to in my world travels.
Our target was Greater Snow Geese and before I go any farther,
let me give you a little history on this grand bird. In the early
1900's the population of them was down to around 2,000 birds and
scant hope was given for their recovery. But with the restricted
hunting and establishment of refuges the population was estimated
at 90,000 by 1969 when I first hunted them on the North Carolina
Coast and by 1984 were some 400,000. Today's population is 1.4
million and the unique thing about this species is that the total
world population funnels through Cap Tourmente, Quebec both in the
fall and spring.
This is the area we
hunted on the St.Lawrence and miles of birds lined the river.
Twenty foot tides coming up the river dictated the movement of them
and it was almost like hunting the ocean as the water level
fluctuated so much. At low tide the birds fed in the flats on
spartina and other emergent grasses and as the tide rose they came
inland for feed on wheat, rye grass and even people's yards. Seeing
greater snow geese feeding inside the towns within yards of
buildings and traffic was much like seeing resident Canadas here
feeding on ballfields and golf courses. In fact, these birds act
more like Canada Geese than the Snow Geese we are used to hunting
elsewhere.
Greater snow geese weigh an average of 8+ pounds in adult males
and 7 in females. Small flocks of family groups and sub-adults
decoy well and are nothing like trying to decoy Lesser Snows in the
huge flocks we are used to seeing in our part of the world. At
first glance, when you pick up your first bird you will notice the
large head, mandible a third longer than a Lesser, longer neck and
overall anatomy. Fresh birds up from the Atlantic coast were mostly
pure white, but after several days grubbing in the riverbed mud for
grass and roots the iron oxide content stained them a rusty red on
their heads, necks and chest. Every bird we shot were with 1 1/8
oz. of #2 steel that we were provided with and it crushed them.
Ramsey and I shot 92 birds in 3 days,but numbers were
overshadowed by the hospitality, cuisine and treatment we received.
We spent as much time taking pictures and soaking up the culture as
we did hunting it seemed. We hunted the tide movement just like I
have done when in Alaska and other maritime areas.
We felt like family
in such a short time there and that made the stay much more
enjoyable. The culinary delights presented to us by Benoit, and
that's not Ben-o-it as in Mississippi but Ben-wa as in France, were
as pleasing to the eye as to the palate. Each meal was several
courses plus deserts and the ever present Bordeaux wines and even
wines from Chile made their way to the table for a wonderful
meal.
His assistant, Franzi, was like the wind, delivering one course
after another, serve from the left, take away from the right and
magically appearing when something was needed. Our guides were
local young men that were raised on the river and much
opposite of the "Black Hoodie Mafia" many their age have become in
other areas. Their knowledge of the quary, the area and the history
made for good conversation. They would be welcome at my camp
anytime. We met Pierre Dupuis who is the Black Duck guru of Quebec
as well as a retired field biologist that spent years with Greater
Snow research projects both at The Cap and on the arctic nesting
grounds. His wealth of information was fascinating, especially for
an old Black Duck shooter from East Tennessee like me. Spending
time with him was an educational experience in waterfowl
lore.
We stayed busy either hunting or taking hundreds of photos of the
ever present geese and they were willing models. Many would
continue feeding as we stopped within mere feet of them on the
roadsides. It was a nature photographer's dream. Even I got a few
good pictures but nothing like some that Ramsey got with his
cameras. I think we read the numbers off of eight or nine neck
collars that we will report.
What's more, the outfitter only books hunts for when he knows
the birds will be migrating through the area. Even though the
spring season is open for several months, he will not hunt till
he's confident the birds will be there. When we arrived there were
about 400,000 geese in the area, when we left 3 days later the
number was 750,000. This is about a third of the world's population
with more arriving each day. Now I want to go there in the
fall and take advantage of both Canada and Snow Geese and also
ducks.
Related Links: Quebece Canada Greater
Snow Goose Hunts,
Photo Gallery Snow Goose Hunting in Quebec
Canada, Canada Goose Hunting
Packages