The Hunt
This morning, early in the 2006-07 Arkansas duck season, Rusty reminded us to be ready for teal zipping into and out of the timber holes. “This year we’re seeing an unusually large number of teal, so there must have been a good teal hatch up north,” he said. He explained teal are “bonus” ducks since the Arkansas limit allows four mallards but six ducks total. But visions of big fat greenheads fluttering down through the trees made it awfully hard to think about tiny teal.

The strategy was to hunt both the Gar and the Doughnut holes. Harvey Robbins, our host, encouraged us to “make your final pit stops” and the group complied and soon assembled in the ready room. At Harvey’s the ready room resembles an NFL locker room with individual stalls for guns, equipment and waders. It is called the ready room because one gets ready for world class hunting going out and world-class camaraderie and food coming back in.

We descended the lodge steps and walked the short distance to the boathouse where the Mercury outboards were already warming up. Harvey’s group plus Micah’s wonderful retriever Safire loaded into the “Queen Mary”, a large covered flat bottom, powered by a 60 HP Mercury. Rusty and three of us spread out in one of the open flat bottoms.

Seconds later we were running flat out down a canal in the mild pre-dawn darkness. The vibration had lulled me into a quiet reflection on how lucky I was to be hunting this place, when Rusty jumped the rig across a patch of dry ground from one levy canal to another without as much as a hiccup. The outboard whined until the prop was underwater again, but we never missed a beat. It sure got my attention, but Creasey is one of the best guides anywhere, so I didn’t worry. I didn’t have time to because it happened so fast.

As we sped through the darkness without the aid of a light, I couldn’t help but wonder how Rusty would know where and when to leave the canal for the Doughnut hole. Moments later Rusty, still running full speed, turned sharply into the timber darkness and followed a narrow “boat trail” to the hole. Only when we approached the hole did he throttle the motor down. “We’re there,” Rusty announced. So we gathered guns and gear and eased into the knee-deep water. For some it may have been one of their most “exciting” boat rides ever. But what the heck, mallards awaited us.

Before hiding the boat in the timber, Rusty pointed to where he wanted each of us. There was a gentle northeast wind so we set up facing it in the rectangular 50- by 25-yard patch of open water in the trees. The Doughnut hole gives ducks a long entry glide path from several directions. Ringing the opening are giant Sweet gum and Oak trees with buck brush growing in their shadows. It’s easy to see why the ducks prefer the spot once you see the cover and flight patterns into it.

Cruising...

Harvey’s has ducks when no one else in the region does because of their sanctuary. It consists of a huge willow break with all kinds of shadow filled “hidey holes” where the ducks can loaf and congregate without being disturbed-ever. Only the fringes of this rest area are ever hunted, so the ducks quickly become accustomed to it providing an escape from the continual gunning pressure elsewhere. Most of the ducks we were now seeing above the hole were actually heading for the sanctuary.

Decoys and a jerk string were already in place, so there was little for us to do other than to stand ready with unloaded guns until legal shooting time arrived.

Rusty disappeared into the darkness trailing the boat behind him. Already the sky above the timber was filled with mallards coming in from a night of feeding in the adjacent rice fields. Ducks were everywhere, flying in all directions, little groups, big groups, pairs and more. From what we could tell, most were “big ducks” mallards with a few gadwalls mixed in. Rusty’s teal had thus far failed to materialize.

In this predawn twilight six ducks lit among the decoys and swam off into the timber. Then a pair of mallards did the same thing at the other end of the hole. A big greenhead lit in front almost splashing water on me. He immediately realized his mistake and with a whoosh and squeaking wings he was airborne again. Clearly, it was going to be on in the Doughnut hole this morning. But at the moment, all we could do was watch the spectacle. Still no teal.