Its Forty and Out for Teal
Thirty or so minutes after shooting time and three of us are sitting in the blind with arms folded across our laps. Beside us are four Teal ducks representing two of the three North American species to migrate south each fall. In Texas, these would either be Green-winged or Blue-winged Teal. Their Cinnamon Teal brethren rarely make their southerly migration through Texas, opting for a more westerly route along the Pacific coast flyway. With fifteen ducks in the blind, we are waiting for the sixteenth candidate to appear over our decoys so the fourth hunter in our party can round out a full limit. In typical duck hunting fashion, someone sitting in the lucky part of the blind got more shots off than the other guy and thus has his limit first. Today, the slowest seat in the house happened to be in the interior of the blind, second from the left end as you look out over the decoys.
As experienced and passionate waterfowl hunters, this does not pose a problem or a bragging contest for those with their limits. Although it does not eliminate the obligatory ribbing or commentary on poor shooting, if that was the case. On the contrary, everyone is respectful of the fact that they just happened to be on the side of the blind where the ducks decided to come into the decoy spread. In a four-man blind situation, it is common eitiquette, and just plain safe, to shoot only those ducks within your “quadrant” of the firing zone. Starting from left to right as you look out of the blind, the guy on the left looks for and shoots ducks as they come into the decoys at “nine o’clock” to eleven o’clock. The two middle guys get eleven to one o’clock and the right guy gets the one to three o’clock on the imaginary grid. If you get a decent group of ducks to come in, the outside guys wait for the ducks to enter the middle quadrant so that everyone gets a shot and, on singles, the middle guys alternate. The problem is the ducks do not always cooperate. Today was just one of those days for the second slot shooter who happened to be next to me on my right - me being the left-end hunter.
I, for one, appreciate a patient gun. I find it more satisfying to pick good shots and therefore insure a swift dispatch of the bird than see a rushed shot lead to a lost cripple. And, I appreciate those who practice the same restraint. In this case, my immediate neighbor had done just that. He waited for the right shots and as a result got to enjoy watching the ducks work their way into the decoys and admire the other hunters make shots in the process. If there were a golfer’s par equivalent in duck hunting, it would probably be a ratio of one shell per bird harvested. Since most golfers do not shoot par, a respectable ratio of shells shot to birds harvested would probably be 1.5 to one. Anything north of two per bird is probably grounds for taking a little more time at the range or practicing some patience on the trigger.
So, at about forty minutes after shooting time, our last hunter sees a single teal banking in from right to left as he approaches the decoys. He leans forward on the bench, eyes just above the brushy camouflague of the blind. The rest of us do the same except with guns empty and held low behind the cover. As if on cue, the duck cups his wings right in the middle of the two group decoy spread in front of us and our last shooter pops up with one fluid motion, aims, and dispatches the final bird for our limit. Forty minutes and done. Not a particularly fast Teal hunt but those are not always the best anyways. I am of the opinion that having some singles mixed in with a few good groups makes for a better hunt and stretches things out a bit. Today was exactly that.
As we made our way back to our staging area, other groups of hunters from different ponds began to show up. Leaning against an ATV or sitting on the tailgate of a truck, the men start to tell stories of this shot and that. One guy got a double out of group, another guy missed a fully-cupped teal ten yards away. And so goes the jawing back and forth while I start to put my gear away. I looked in my shell bag and pulled out my box of 12 gauge #4’s and took note of the number of shots I took for the morning. Looks like I am perilously close to needing some range time next week, or maybe a little more patience.
