Ducks and fluffy towels

Do you have any duck days going for tomorrow?

It was a short and to the point enquiry from a broad Yorkshire accent.

To be honest I didn’t have anything available at that short notice, but I asked for a couple of hours to make a few calls.

The enquiry was for a team of four guys who were in Dorset on a mini break with their wives. They later told me how they’d negotiated a deal where by a beauty therapy session in their hotel spar would offset a days pheasant shooting. Keeping everyone happy.

However the days pheasant shooting that they had booked directly with a local shoot had been called off at the last minute (not sure why), and they were desperately trying to find some shooting.

But for me, the best part of the weekend agreement was that everyone had been booked to go for the beauty therapy as well as to go shooting.

Anyway back to my calls to find some duck shooting.

As luck would have it, a very good friend of mine offered an evenings duck flight on his estate, with the added spice of the possibility of some Canada Geese. I also recruited three pickers up and reported back.

We agreed on a one off fee for the whole party. And so, not twenty-four hours later, four guns with partners, sat in woodland hides around two ponds in the early evening, waiting for the evening duck flight to come over the treetops.

Thankfully the wind was blowing reasonably hard, which is normally a good sign. In windy weather the ducks tend to leave the nearby exposed estuary early and come inland.

Things stared a bit slow. As normal I had given instructions to let the first few mallard settle in, which appeared to be back firing, as the guns left eight or more ducks. Then as the light was fading and my anxiety level rose, the action started. Mallard and teal arrived at regular intervals over the next forty minutes.

At close we had sixteen duck in the bag and after picking up, everyone retired to the local pub for a warm by the fire and very welcome pint.

What great folks they are. We enjoyed a hearty meal and lots of laughs together, but of-course I couldn’t leave the subject of the day’s spar beauty session hanging. These were four big Yorkshire lads, who I couldn’t see walking around in a fluffy white towel being serenaded by soothing elevator music. But I was wrong.

As well as booking a 50-bird pheasant day with us in January, they’ll be staying in the same hotel and have booked a detox spar session. Who knows, I may even join them.

Written by Sporting Agent.