Day of the Gadwall

After providing good to excellent duck hunting during September and October, the Iowa migration pretty much shut down in early November.  As the doldrums continued into mid-month, hunters were becoming understandably impatient.  Some were even discouraged to the point of stashing the decoys to pursue locally abundant pheasant populations.

Finally, on November 19th, the weather took a turn when a fast-moving front brought howling northwest winds that delivered the dramatic change waterfowlers had been longing for.  While most hunters took to the bigger waters, I decided to take a chance on one of the smaller cattail wetlands that are a common feature across Iowa’s 35-county prairie pothole region.

Although I had encountered other hunters earlier in the season, the marsh was a good hike from the road, and I didn’t think anyone was likely to bother with such a small area this late in the season.  One thing was for sure.  With temperatures dropping and northern marshes beginning to ice over, flocks of mallards were certain to be on the move.  My small cattail sheltered oasis would hopefully provide an enticing stopover for those southbound greenheads.

With the arrival of daylight, it soon became apparent that mallards were indeed on the move – hundreds of them.  But the morning was not what I had envisioned.  Instead of eagerly dropping into my tiny pothole, the flocks were flying a mile high – which is where they clearly intended to stay.  Taking advantage of the gusty tailwinds, the birds were traversing the skies at warp speed.  The next time their bright orange feet touched water would probably be somewhere in Missouri.

But all was not lost.  Catching a sudden movement, I looked up and spotted a beautiful drake gadwall – wings cupped and standing on his tail as he conducted a meteor-like, vertical descent to the decoys.  The duck presented a perfect, in your face shot that I promptly missed – with both barrels.

There was no time to lament.  Almost immediately, more gadwalls – this time a flock of more than a dozen – appeared and, without so much as a preliminary swing, arrowed straight into the decoys.  Taking my time, I scored with both barrels.  Another flock piled in within seconds.  The action continued until, before I knew it, I had downed a six-bird limit – each and every duck was a gadwall.  Trading shotgun for camera, I shot video for the next hour.  Some of the ducks I recorded were at distances of twenty feet.

At eleven o’clock, I picked up my decoys and left the marsh.  The ducks had quit flying and only an occasional red-wing continued to descend to the cattails.  Although the mallards never did come down, the day had proved to be a unique outing.  Although gadwalls were formerly considered as inhabitants of western marshlands, the species has become increasingly common across the Mississippi Flyway during recent years.  In decades of waterfowling, this was the first and only day that I had ever shot an entire limit that consisted solely of migrating gadwalls.    

In addition to providing us with several delicious meals, the outing had also served a vivid reminder that a morning duck hunt can be a lot like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates – You just never know what you’re going to get.