The Perfect Storm: Duck Hunt in a Snow Hurricane
BY: DAN HRUSKA
Duck hunters love storms. We especially love storms associated with cold fronts. Actually, the colder the weather is, the better. We spend those wretched summer months thinking about frost, leaves falling and “The One” ultimate cold front that’s going to start locking up Canadian waters and push the migrators down to the states. We know how snow, blizzard and ice are painful words to some people, but they send shivers of excitement down our spines. Some call it a sickness but there are benefits to that thought process and the expectation of being in cold weather.
One benefit is planning an out-of-state hunt. As a waterfowler, you know that in the month of January, Canada and many northern states in America will be frozen solid and if you can plan to travel a little below those areas you most likely will enjoy swarms of birds looking to feed and refuel from their journey south. It’s a pretty decent bet that you will have good success with that game plan.
So while thinking of places in Oklahoma, Arkansas, Texas and Louisiana, I was approached by a couple gentleman in Maine that said to fly on up and we will chase after some sea ducks, in the ocean, in canoes. Time out. Maine is frozen. Maine is way north of where I should be looking to book a hunt in January. I had never hunted sea ducks and living in Pennsylvania my exposure to them and the ocean in general has been fairly limited. That being said, an Eider has been on my bucket list of birds to harvest for probably the last decade so let the planning begin…
I co-host the HP Outdoors Waterfowl Podcast and thanks to Facebook we have a listeners group and a platform where questions can be asked, tips can be shared, and friendships can be made. This is where the invite to Maine came from. Fast forward and another listener from Maine opened his doors for anyone joining the hunt to stay with him and then add in my brother, also from PA, and another listener from Maryland. We gave the trip the nickname of “Wicked Hum Dingah” and from there we narrowed down the date to the first week of January. We were to fly in to Portland, ME on the 4th, hunt the 5th and 6th and fly out the 7th. This was planned as a short trip with a couple days of hunting and a perfect way to kick off 2018.
Now I know from hunting out of state on guided trips that guarantees come with limits. You are guaranteed to be in the field and you are guaranteed their best effort to get you on birds. If you do your research, you know what to expect from the outfitter you book with. This was not the case on this trip. These guys, these new friends, these new hunting buddies guaranteed that we would have cold weather and we would try our best to harvest a few birds. We had no idea what was approaching. Never did it cross my mind that there was no guarantee of me making it to Maine, but that quickly became a real possibility.
Tuesday, January 2nd my phone buzzes with an alert from the airlines saying that my flight on Thursday might be adjusted due to weather so I can change dates with no charge. So quickly I decided to move it up a day and planned on leaving on Wednesday and having an extra day to see Maine and the beauty that comes with it. What is behind these weather issues? Where is this weather coming from? What is a BOMB CYCLONE? Essentially a snow hurricane was about to hit the east coast and bring a cold front, power outages, ice storms, and floods in major New England cities. So to the airport I go. I checked my bags and watched the ticker go from on time, to delayed, to delayed longer, to cancelled. After another 3 hours of trying to get into Rhode Island I realized this was also a dead end. I booked a flight for Thursday and headed home only to receive a cancellation notice before I walked in my front door. Excellent. New flight for Friday night was the earliest that airlines were flying in so I jumped on it.
So here we go. Flights are on time and my nerves are shot thinking that this hunt might not happen even if I get to Maine. Negative temperatures and 30+ mph winds were the forecast for Saturday, the only day to hunt now as Maine has no Sunday hunting. Flight lands, we head to the LL Bean flagship to buy ammo and licenses and head back to our quarters for a few hours of sleep before making our hour and half long trip to the ocean. This is where things get fun.
Waking up on a -27 degree morning was a new experience and that was just the beginning. As we pull up to our friends in the Old Town Canoe truck, loaded down with two canoes and three kayaks, it had warmed up to a balmy -13. We introduced ourselves for the first time in person and made a game plan. Our approach was discussed, as was the option of just going to the local diner to get breakfast and go sightseeing. That wasn’t going to happen after the excruciating journey just to be there with bucket-list birds in sight. We struggled to get our waders on due to the shock of moving out of a warm truck to -40 degree wind chill weather. It was a hurried approach but we got it together and started our excursion. We hit the water in a Discovery 169 and a Discovery Sport 15 Square Stern and paddled to the first outcrop of rocks that we came to. After scaling up the ice-covered boulders we peaked over the top to what was one of the most breathtaking sights I have ever seen. Dark clouds were moving in, birds flying everywhere and sea smoke that I never knew existed. It was like a painting that one could only conceive in a dream. We took in the view then quickly loaded our shotguns and got ready for the hunt. Besides the unmistakable glow of the drake eiders, we were buzzed by mallards, black ducks, golden eyes, scoters and old squaw. This morning turned into the epitome of a waterfowlers paradise.
Triggers were pulled and birds fell. As we sat there with smiles across all our faces I realized how deep the connection of the waterfowl community really is. Coming from different states, hunting together for the first time, being cautious but a bit daring to tackle elements that nature throws at us… it's in our blood. It's who we are. There were so many times we could have thrown in the towel and been a spectator from a truck window, but what kind of adventure would that have been? Definitely would not have been a Wicked Hum Dingah.
Beating the elements, obtaining a bucket list stud eider, gaining new friends and having new hunting buddies to call on….
This truly was The Perfect Storm.