All a Goose Hunter Could Ask For

Hunting partner, Tom Billingsley, and I arrived at the Web Tract ferry about 8:45 on Saturday morning Dec 1. One truck was in line ahead of us and the driver hopped out of his truck as we pulled up.

“I’ve been here since 8 O’clock,” he bellowed. “There was no 8 O’clock ferry and if it doesn’t show up at 9 I’ll give up.”

“Oh island life,” I thought to myself. “Obviously this guy’s life style is not at the right pace for island living.”

We could already see large flocks of geese rising up on Webb Tract a couple miles from where we waited. Eagerly we drove onto the ferry and then to the property. From the levy overlooking the south end of our 140 acre hunting ground we could see hundreds of geese and swans loafing in the most southern pond, a pond of only 5 to 10 acres in size.

After a brief discussion we concluded that we’d be better off if we entered the property from the North end. With a south wind, we’d disturb the property less if we approached from down wind. When we set up to hunt, the wind would reduce our impact upon the birds at the south end, and hopefully we’d have a continuous draw of birds overhead giving us opportunities to pass shoot.

As we drove into camp, we could see that the northern ponds held even more waterfowl than the southern. In fact this may have been the largest concentration of geese, swans and sand hill cranes that I’d ever witnessed at close range.

Upon our arrival the birds became nervous. Tom and I sat down in camp chairs to observe. As the flock grew ever-more excited they began to lift off. Thousands and thousands of geese rose from the ponds. As they lifted off they carried with them droplets of water which fell back to the ground. The trailing beads of water fell like strings of diamonds creating a cascade of reflections backlit by the morning sun. The sound of calling geese, cranes and swans mixed with the roar of wing beats and the reflecting waterfall made the scene spectacular. We sat and stared like privileged guests at a sacred ceremony.

Webb Tract hadn’t always been a goose Mecca. Thirty years ago, my brother, Rob and I saw an ad in the San Francisco Chronicle Sportsman’s Corner. The ad read something like this: “Delta duck and pheasant club for Sale – seeking six partners, $18K each.”

This was what we were waiting for. We called the phone number on the ad and viewed the property within a few days – could hardly wait to plop down our money, except we didn’t have enough. We told the seller that we’d pay him when sold our rental house and he said OK.

We became one of the first to purchase an interest in what was later to become the False River Farms duck club.

As farmers, we never received enough money, from our share of the crop, to pay for the debt service, taxes and reclamation district fees. One winter, the island flooded and we were strapped with additional charges for reclamation.

The hunting was fantastic, and our prayers for a hunting paradise were answered. Despite the poor financial showing, we were never unhappy with our decision to purchase.

After the island had been returned to a normal and semi productive state, we were offered a chance to sell the property and maintain a life estate – for hunting purposes. This was truly a case of having our cake and eating it too. The sale price was such that we turned a reasonable profit for our years of enjoyment. And, to this date we still have excellent hunting on the property. Except now we hunt geese more than ducks and pheasants, but we still bag a few of them too.

(Tom with four white-front geese, also know as speckle bellies)

You see the rough edges, berry bushes, small marshes and tule patches that used to provide habitat for pheasants and ducks are gone. In an effort to clear the island of such quagmires, the new owners removed most of the wildlife infrastructure. Now they plow, plant or drain everything possible. I suspect that this process also produces the highest yield crop wise. What used to be fantastic duck and pheasant habitat has been converted to perfect goose habitat. The geese prefer the open space, wheat sprouts and left over grain which liters the corn and wheat fields.

If I were asked, “What is the best real estate investment that an individual can make?” I would respond that purchase of property that can be utilized by the owners is the best investment of all. A personal residence is first and foremost. A business person should always consider owning the property that his business is located upon. After that, I would say that recreational property, used with a high degree of frequency, is probably as good of an investment as anything. If the property falls within the individual’s affordable range, and if use of the property remains enjoyable, the owner has the added advantage, from an investment point of view, that there is no need to sell.

When there is no need to sell, the owner can wait indefinitely for the right buyer to come along. Sooner or later somebody will want your property more than you do. In the mean time one can continue to enjoy the fruits of land ownership and be in control.

In the case of our Webb Tract property, the new owners did not need the hunting rights, and we were not interested in selling, so the only way to purchase our property was to offer to let us keep them. As a hunter, they are the reason for ownership, so the hunting rights are invaluable. Upon sale of the Webb Tract property we were able to purchase a second duck club where we still enjoy hunting to this day.

Today, the parcel we once owned and now hunt provides some of the finest goose hunting that exists. During the months of December and January, the 5,000 acre island attracts many thousands of geese – primarily white-fronted, snow, Ross’s and small Canadian geese like Aleutians and cackling geese.

Our weekend hunt produced lots of action. Tom and I each bagged several white-fronts with a pheasant on the side. Lola retrieved her first goose and I managed a rare triple on geese when a large flock of white-fronts passed overhead.  

All this took place in bright sunny weather with a moderate breeze and temperatures in the 40’s and 50’s. Throw in a couple rib eye steaks provided by Tom and you’ve got all a bird hunter could ask for.

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Alone with Lola

Went duck hunting this morning. Mainly to get my young pup out for her second hunt. Didn’t get up early, just left my house about 7:00 AM – not your typical duck hunt. Fortunately the weather was cool and foggy, ideal for a late start.

I expected a couple of my partners would be at the club early and that it would be slim pick’ns by the time I got to the pond. However, I was more than pleasantly surprised then I raised my field glasses to check the parking area upon my arrival at the gate.

The hunting hasn’t been great, so I guess everybody decided to stay home and wait for better duck weather. After letting Lola out of her crate, I pulled on my waders with anticipation. A few small bunches of mallards were circling the pond. I’d probably have some good action for a while.

Walking the berm trail, I considered jump-shooting mallards on my way. Even though my pump shotgun was loaded, I elected to pass when two mallard pairs raised up in front of me only 20 yards away. That ended speculation about jump-shooting. I’d let them mill around and probably I’d get a chance after setting up. That’s one of the great advantages of having the place all to oneself.

Such luxury is almost never enjoyed by most waterfowlers, who enjoy duck hunting primarily for the social aspects, arrive in groups or hunt clubs where all the hunters must hunt at the same time. Land ownership, having a master lease on an entire parcel, getting very lucky on a club with liberal time restrictions or hunting a public area on a day when everybody goes home early (Christmas eve or New Year’s eve) are some of the likely scenarios where hunters find themselves alone in the marsh.

However, it’s the landowner route that makes this type of experience more common. The more control one has over the property, the more likely they are to enjoy the ideal hunting situation. Each season I’ll have several hunts where I’m the only hunter on the club and often the results are very enjoyable. Obviously one’s personal financial resources are a major contributing factor. You say, “Hey wait a minute, I never get to hunt alone on my club.” I say, “That’s probably because the interest you have in your club is two small to give you control over your destiny. It’s either an oversubscribed leasehold interest or maybe it’s divided into too many ownership interests.”

In any case, it difficult to have a hunting area all to oneself, unless the property is controlled by a small group that doesn’t have strict hunting limitations, or you own the entire program. On clubs, limitations are necessary to prevent overzealous hunters or selfish partners from monopolizing the hunting. On public land, the early bird gets the worm, and also a bunch of late comers hunting all around him.

On a small private club, the issue of overcrowding should not usually a problem, if the partnership is not oversubscribed. About the only way one will find himself alone on opening day is if he owns the entire club and doesn’t invite friends–downright anti-social behavior.

As I entered the pond, several flocks of ducks rose up in front of me. I set up on my bucket over three mallard decoys. Mallards worked the opposite end of the pond. I really wanted to get a duck or two for the sake of my ten-month old lab and a day like this would be perfect for training. Nobody could complain.

\We left the bucket behind and walked towards the center of the pond. I elected to stand in tall cattails, without decoys, and let Lola stand as well. The water wasn’t cold yet and she had a neoprene suit on that would help. Mallards began to work into the wind. I made a few calls on my mallard call and ducked low on the shady side of the cattails to make sure they didn’t see me.

Eventually a green head drifted past me at half speed. I raised and fired, hitting him, but not hard enough to guarantee that he wouldn’t get away, so I fired again. He hit the open water and began to swim while Lola took off in the wrong direction. The cattails would be dense and I didn’t want to lose the bird to I fired at the greenhead again. He kept swimming.

Another shot. He stopped and began paddling in circles. Calling to Lola, I moved towards the duck. The bird regained his senses and once again began paddling toward the cattails. I fired a fifth shot, but not in time to prevent him from disappearing into the dense cover.

When I reached the edge of the cattails, I hoped to see him there in a heap, but that was not the case. Finally, Lola arrived and began to sniff. The moment I had been waiting for arrived. With a snort she made that involuntary body jerk that bird dogs sometimes do when they get a strong whiff of bird scent.

She took off through the cattails like a seasoned pro. Another snort, from about ten yards to my left, told me that she had the bird in her mouth. Her first save! I was elated.

Although the next two ducks didn’t produce great retrieves, Lola did find another dead bird in thick tules. There were moments of frustration, but when I left the pond I felt comfortable that she had taken an important step towards becoming a good retriever and hopefully my hunting companion for years to come.

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All things (and duck clubs) are not Created Equal

The silence over the duck ponds made a statement about the quality of the hunting. No ducks, no shooting. OK, there were a few ducks overhead, but not very many.

The decoys sat motionless in the still air. A light fog settled in as the sun began to appear like a soft white light creating an excellent opportunity for unusual photos of Lola, the decoys and Ed – as he waded around moving decoys to improve their spacing.

 
By 8 AM Ed made the call, “Let’s go.” He said. What type of breakfast do you want?”

“A good one,” I replied, “Bacon and eggs.”

I didn’t know it then, but I learned later that Ed had other plans.

As we drove to town, he commented on the status of agriculture in the area. “Look at those fields,” he stated, “how clean they are. When I was a kid there was tons of space not farmed, now you can hardly find a weed.”

I couldn’t help but notice as I have many times before. Over the years I’ve had many opportunities to think about the issue of agricultural land use.

It seems that farmers and ranchers have become ever more pressed to maximize their efficiency at what they do. I’m of the opinion that this is a result of several factors.

One is that real estate is so expensive that it forces the owners to maximize income. Another is the nature of business. Do one thing and do it well. Focus on one product and forget about everything else. Farmers see nothing but wheat, corn and barley while ranchers see nothing but annual grasses suitable for maximum grazing.

One only has to look around at modern agriculture. The fields hold only a slight amount of habitat most of the year. Yes some crops leave substantial feed after they are harvested, but resident species need habitat year round.

Some migratory species, like ducks and geese, still do pretty well using seasonal habitat here in winter and elsewhere in summer. But resident species like pheasant, quail and deer don’t fare well.

A few years back, I had a pig hunting arrangement on a 5,000 acre ranch near home. One field contained a large patch of bull thistles. The three acre patch grew on a bench that was surrounded by open grassland.

Once pigs entered the patch to bed down, they were completely hidden. Sows liked the large patch for rearing young and other pigs slept their in the shade of the thistles during hot summer days. It was a key element of their habitat.

When the rancher found an effective herbicide that would selectively kill thistles, he immediately killed the thistles and the pigs were gone. I can’t blame him, but if a hunter owned the ranch he would have left the patch alone figuring it was a benefit.

People become obsessed with their objectives. This cattle rancher wanted every square inch of his ranch to be perfect for cattle leaving very little room for wildlife. Yes, over the years ranchers and farmers have managed lots of wildlife habitat, but mainly because they couldn’t convert it to crops or grass. Unfortunately now they can.

Hunter-landowners are in a position support habitat for game and wildlife allowing them the opportunity to diversify ranches and farms. Some times they are able to manage strictly for habitat as was the case with Ed’s two duck clubs which were both under easements with the US Fish and Wildlife Service to maximize their wetland values.

Ed runs both his clubs as businesses, renting blinds, but also leaving plenty of hunting for himself, his guests and his family. It’s a win-win situation for him, but he’s spent many years building up his program.

The more established and productive of the two clubs leases for $6,300 per year per hunter and each hunter has the right to bring a guest on any shoot day. On both his clubs he keeps the hunting pressure at a minimum with two shoot days (Wed and Sat) each week.

And, the hunting on that club is as good as it gets in the Grasslands. That afternoon I found out just how good it could be. We both shot limits of pintails, shoveler and widgeon – along with teal, the mainstay of the Grasslands waterfowl program.

Lola made some good retrieves and also left a couple out there for me to pick up. I got some more great photos of the habitat and well before sunset we were on our way home, once again passing those frustrating fields, neatly harrowed with no weeds in sight.

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