Went this morning with my brother Mike and nephew Tyler to an undisclosed location somewhere in Va. It's a big water sp[ot, and the fog was so bad at the landing we decided not to chance our usual spot. While standing there trying to decide where to try, all around us were the sounds of ducks and geese. Widgeons whistling, mallards quacking, gadwalls burping, and the constant sound of canada's filled the air.
"Why don't we just hunt right here!", from my scared of the water and the fog brother. With no other options, I puttered out about 50 yds from the landing and we set up.
All around us in the predawn darkness there were ducks. Everywhere. In front of us, to our left, between us and the bank. I kept thinking, "Wow....this is going to be easy." It might have been, too, if it wasn't for the pea soup fog. At best our vision extended to about 10 yds.
Daylight brought the constant sound of wings overhead but no let up in the fog. All morning we had birds diving through the spread only to disappear again as soon as we shouldered our guns. Finally after some serious frustration and frayed nerves, the fog cleared to give us about 25 yds of visibility. Not ideal, but it seemed like a mile compared to what we had been sitting in. Out of nowhere 2 ducks materialized through the fog, wings cupped as they slid into the spread. The one on the right was a big bull drake widgeon and I threw the front of the blind down and dropped him about 15 ft from the boat. Tyler was right behind me shooting at the hen with his Red Ryder. I've been waiting for a long time to kill a widgeon with all his feathers in full breeding plummage and I could tell this one was destined for the wall. After picking him up Tyler assured me that this was the one he had shot at, not the retreating hen so we decided that he must have killed it and I just "finished" it for him. Great morning, albeit a little tough with the fog.
Tyler and I with "our" duck