Salvaged flight

[anser2]

A salvaged flight

 

The pinks have been building up nicely on my local marsh. Last week there were less than a hundred flighting from the sands. Monday morning I was decoying teal at morning flight and at least a thousand came off. Yesterday there was a stiff offshore wind at dawn and five thousand flighted in at dawn. There were two flightlines , the only trouble I was not under ether of them. The geese came in very low and almost every skein was well within range if you were under them, but most passed a mile to the west , with another thousand lifting of the sands to the east and cutting across out boundary, Just two little lots came close. A trio that passed just wide , but only 15yards up and then having passed cut across the wind behind me giving a stern on 40 yard chance , a shot I hate and needless to say I missed. Then just when I thought it was all over ten pinks , the highest of the morning almost came overhead, I swung like mad on the nearest bird and it splashed into the rapidly ebbing creek 60 yards off giving Meg , my black lab a long cold swim. Nobody else was out on the marsh so I had high hopes that even if the wind died the undisturbed birds may still give me a shot or two the next morning.

 

I was up early as I knew I would have a bit of a walk ahead of me to get under the western flight line. The track down to the marsh was a lot rougher that the last time I used it, a year ago. I got a long way down it when I was brought to a halt. The farmer had run a couple of water pipes across the track , but the recent rains had washed the mud from under them and they were a foot clear of the ground. I had to rethink my plans for the morning flight. I did a quick about turn and set off a mile or so to try and get to the eastern flight line. This part of the marsh is a problem to navigate in the darkness. Two creek systems almost meet draining the saltings on both sides. The creeks are just a little too wide for comfortable jumping , very deep, with steep sides, but many years ago I discovered a narrow path running between the creeks running a mile to the marsh edge. Stray from the route to your peril and once off the path it can be a nightmare to get back onto it in the darkness. It’s a question of fixing your landmarks and keeping on track. Half an hour I arrived at a huge creek as it turns out to the open sea and tucked myself and the dog into a small clump of sueada bushes to await the dawn.

 

The wind was nowhere near as strong as yesterday and my best hope was that an early party of geese would come in low as I expected the main flight to be high. And so it happened , 20 pinks came in forty yards up , but they were a little wide and passed unscathed towards the uplands. A party of fowl came drifting down the creek on the ebb tide. They were very quiet and in the dim light it was hard to be sure what they were , duck perhaps , but more likley brent and they proved to be the later.

 

It was a strange dawn, The sky was covered with thick cloud except for a narrow strip of pinkness over the sea. I was on the back edge of a weather front and the clear weather was rapidly approaching from the north , but with the clearing sky the wind was dropping and the pinkness soon faded into a powder blue. It seemed as though one minuet it was very dark and the next minuet I could see for miles in the clear air. With the advancing morning the pinks jumped, 3-4 thousand of them in a mob that stretched along a mile of the salting edge. Despite jumping from close in they rapidly gained height. O’ I love those seconds as a big skein approaches , dark lines , breaking into individual birds stretching to ether side as the chorus of calls grows from a faint murmur to a loud clamour . The dog stiffens beside you as your eyes search for that one goose that will give you your best chance. You are in the centre of the flock and know they will come over you and they did , but they were high. I picked a bird and fired. It went on unscathed , I was behind . The remainder of the geese jumped in the air and were too high for a second shot.

 

Kicking myself for missing I hurriedly reloaded. The marsh had sprung to life at my shot. Two nice bunches of wigeon passed down the centre of the creek , there were brent and curlew everywhere and a pair of mallard lifted off the sea and headed towards me. The drake fell before he realise I was there and his mate a second later. 50 grs of Tungsten no 1s are not the ideal cartridges for duck , but they did a good job this morning. Meg made short work retrieving both of them and as I was taking the last duck off her the next wave of pinks jumped. But they had been warned and every goose was well up by the time they reached me, well out of range. Apart from a couple of distant small late parties that was the end of the goose flight and all the geese had gone inland. Yesterday the geese had come in dribs and drabs for over an hour , but this morning almost all of the birds had come in two big waves.

 

The tide was rapidly ebbing off the saltings across the creek and a number of small flocks of wigeon were lifting off the marsh and heading out to sea. There seemed little chance of any coming over me , but I hung on just in case. A single drake mallard came high up the creek passing well wide of me. Someone had a shot a mile away down the coast and the mallard flared even higher and turned back down wind coming right over me. He was a bit high, beyond the range of standard duck shells , but he was at the perfect angle and I was loaded with 3 inch tungsten goose shells. Perhaps I should not have fired but I did and he balled up and crashed into the marsh 100 yards behind me. Meg was off at once , but after a long search came back empty handed. I sent her back , but further this time and she cast out picking up the scent , before losing it for a moment , then picking it up again. Finally she stopped beside a patch of long grass and emerged with the drake held high. The fear of losing the bird lifted into triumph as Meg brought it back.

 

As the last of the tide left the creeks a few mallard started to flight inland. Most passed well wide until a pair crossed the sand and headed for me. The duck was well wide , but the drake gave me an easy shot and was soon tucked into the game bag with the others.

 

I had stayed a lot longer than I intended , but it was time to go. Despite blocked track this mornings flight had been salvaged by four fat mallard in the bag.

Edited December 11, 2015 by anser2

[Penelope]

Another good read R.

 

Not sure when I'll hit the coast again, so the pheasants will have to do tomorrow.

Edited December 11, 2015 by Penelope

[fenboy]

Excellent read and results.

[Aled]

Nice one anser2.

Cheers

Aled

[Smiler23]

Great read that,well done

[Old farrier]

Great read

 

Thanks for sharing

 

Glad you salvaged the day 😋

 

All the best

Of

[marsh man]

Another post where you can smell the salt air while your reading it , after the set backs, your determination got you there in the end, and your success with the ducks was well deserved .

[Tomo-1]

Great read Anser2, this is what it's all about IMHO. Always good to hear about when things go right, as we know it often doesn't.

,

Thanks.

[dawntredder]

Oh to be able to attend and oh me back....nice right up bud!

[Big Al]

A great write up and result. I enjoyed that. Thanks for sharing.

[motty]

Excellent. Thought you may be after the geese, after what I've seen up there recently.

Many a good duck flight starts with the intention of being a goose flight, I find.