Outdoors: Drought cuts bag

Duck shooter Liam Peters, 11. Photo / Geoff Thomas

"Don't move, don't move, don't move!" It's more of a whisper than a shout but the message is clear, and forceful. That's because the ducks wheeling and circling high above the pond will pick up the slightest movement with their sharp eyesight.

Anything out of place will send them on their way, following the river as they search for another pond to settle down and rest.

Our host, Muzz, pulls the rope which disappears down a hole in the corner of the floor of the maimai, and on the calm water the line of ducks tethered in herringbone fashion jerk and bob, sending tiny ripples outward. The battery-powered decoy on its pole spins its wings endlessly, looking for all the world like a mallard drake on the point of landing.

The quackers resonate up and down, the ducks circle again, the decoys wobble again and the quackers send out their enticing call: "Come and visit us," in duck talk. Sometimes the messages get mixed and the "get out of here" alarm call pops up by mistake as eagerness takes over.
But this time it works and the ducks spiral down with wings cupped, and the dog whines in excitement.

The guns boom and the ducks flare up, wings beating frantically to gain height. The guns roar again and two ducks tumble from the sky as others arrow out over the pond.

"Fetch it, fetch it!" says Muzz, slipping the latch on the dog door and the Labrador bursts through and leaps into the water. This is a smart dog, for it has one duck secure in clamped jaws while it pushes the second bird with its nose as it swims back to the maimai.

This scene has been taking place all around the country this month since the shooting season opened two weeks ago.

But for the second consecutive season, drought has sucked the water from North Island ponds and swamps.

Streams and rivers are well down and many shooters have resorted to setting up in maize fields, luring ducks to their decoys on the stubble left after the crop has been harvested.

But pickings were slim in traditional areas such as the lower Waikato River and much of the Waikato. The lack of water meant those ponds with water did well, but in the Auckland-Waikato Fish and Game region the daily limit has been cut from 10 to six ducks which allowed many shooters to take a limit bag.

Anecdotally shooters report that numbers are down, which is why the bag has been reduced.

The biggest killer of ducks, botulism, is always worse in a summer of drought when the remaining water becomes dirty and hot and the deadly microbes flourish. And we have had two such summers in a row.

Duck shooting actually harvests only 10 per cent of the population, or 500,000 birds.

But for 36,000 keen duck shooters the opening day is always a memorable one, a day to rekindle friendships with mates who may come together only once a year.

For youngsters, it can be the start of a passion that will last throughout their lives.

In the Hauraki Plains many of the young boys will shoot ducks from 6.30 in the morning till 8 o'clock, then go to school - head straight back to the swamp after school.

Young Grayson Thomas, 13, of Red Beach joined his father and his shooting mates on a farm pond at Tirau this year. "He calls in the ducks himself and shoots them," reported proud father Mark.
That is what it is all about.

Whether learning to cast a fly rod on the Tongariro River, rig a pilchard for snapper or line up a yearling stag in the scope, it is about getting youngsters away from the computer games and into the real world.

You only have to see what is involved in other countries to catch a fish or shoot a duck to realise how lucky we are.

We have been doing it for only a few generations, but we have access to the sort of fishing and hunting that the rest of the world dreams about.

We have to ensure that the generations which follow us can do the same.

And the best way to start is to introduce them to it now.