Let’s face it: duck hunters are really good at finding something to blame for a lackluster hunt or, as of late, an entire season. It was too hot, too cold, the wind wasn’t right, all the way up the chain to flooded corn to heated ponds and other debatable scapegoats. Theories abound as to why duck seasons aren’t going according to plan, obscuring legitimate issues like poor conditions on breeding grounds, unrelenting pressure, modern agriculture and warmer winter temperatures.
If there were eight to 10 million mallards in the breeding population count, instead of six-ish, perhaps some of the disdain over unsatisfactory duck seasons would temper. The perpetual complainers would still hold on to 1999 and 2000 as utopian markers of how a duck season should go. I’d like to think the majority of us would see the glass half full if there were more ducks in the flyway.
Outside of donating to your conservation organization of choice, the key factors impacting poor duck production are out of most waterfowlers’ power to change. Mother Nature has been frugal with precipitation on the breeding grounds, and the decline of quality habitat, especially in Prairie Canada, is challenging to impact from afar. That helpless feeling likely escalates the blame game happening in the sport right now. Things that feel more tangible, regardless of how far-fetched, get the bulk of attention from the vocal masses.
At this stage in the cycle of duck seasons, hunters would be much better off looking inward rather than continuing the unrelenting finger-pointing. And this is not lecturing from an ivory tower, as I’ve had to take a long, hard look internally to improve results. Some adjustments have paid off, others haven’t — but that is the trial and error of waterfowling.
Simply stated, there is increased pressure from more hunters afield nowadays that is hard to quantify. Arkansas has seen a 25% increase in state duck stamp sales since 2000. Conversely, the United States Fish & Wildlife Service Harvest Information Program (HIP) states Arkansas has experienced an 18% decline in “Active Duck Hunters.”
Well, which is it?
Hunters would say they’re feeling the impact of more hunters, especially on public grounds. One would be hard pressed to find someone who agrees that Arkansas has fewer hunters than 25 years ago.
Sitting around hoping the season gets cut to 30 days so people will drop out of the sport isn’t a strategy to get the sport back on track. Nobody can say that it will reduce hunting licenses sold, and with how conservation is funded, a big dip in hunters will leave a gap in Pittman-Robertson dollars and other similar programs. One thing ducks can’t afford is for us, as a hunting community, to be short-sighted and selfish.
The realization I had is that showing up at the same old duck hole doing the same thing won’t yield results as it once did. Ducks and duck hunting have changed. The sport has reached a point where we, as hunters, must adapt as the ducks have and focus more on controlling the controllables.
Country music singer and television show host turned sausage magnate Jimmy Dean once said, “I can’t change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.”
That’s where we are with modern-day duck hunting, and the sport has reached a point where we as hunters have to start getting serious about making some changes about how we act afield. And the sooner the better.
Ducks seem to be more sensitive to any interaction involving a human than ever before. Duck hunters are more bothersome in the woods with loud exhausts, jam boxes, side by sides with UFO-like light bars, party hunting and the general desire to be amongst the ducks from dawn to dusk on as many days as possible.
The ducks we chase can’t take it anymore, and it shows in their nocturnal behaviors and general complacency to sit on rest areas unless short bursts of weather make them activate. This behavior isn’t the fault of the rest area; it is time we claim ownership of pushing ducks harder than they can handle. Specklebelly geese are right behind them, with changing behaviors due to the stress of dogged 10- and 20-gun hunts.
Between the time this magazine hits newsstands and the start of the season, we and the waterfowl would benefit from a long, honest look in the mirror.
The entire sport will be better off with less finger-pointing and more realization that ‘maybe I’m part of the problem.’ That epiphany must then be followed by action to improve our experiences afield. What does that action(s) look like?
If the guy in the mirror is honest … you’ll know.
