There are few things that make me jump out of bed before the sun rises; duck hunting is one of those things. My duck hunting experience is still a little bit limited, but it’s always an adventure when we get to go.
Court spent hours over the span of a few weeks planning out places to go in our temporary blind and scouting out abandoned blinds in the Laguna. All of that hard work had lead up to this weekend. Specifically, this morning.
We loaded up the decoys, waders, chairs, blind, and shotguns that morning and rushed out to the island to pick up the boat. The clear, crisp air promised an exciting morning on the water.
As headed to the marina, a thick blanket of fog started sneaking up from the South, exactly where we had chosen to hunt. Not to worry, though, we had safely navigated fog during previous fishing trips, and the sunrise was usually enough to clear the air.
The fog bank arrived just as we had backed the boat into the water, quickly surrounding the marina. Seven guide boats that would normally be tearing out of the marina sat in the slips, the guides sitting with creased brows and crossed arms as the weather moved in. We lit up the boat with large lights and idled out of the docks.
Up on plane, the fog pressed in even closer. The cold air bit at my skin and ripped through my thick hunting clothes. Water droplets coated us and the boat in a chilly, moist sheen as the fog thickened around us.
Visibility declined dramatically to less than 100 feet, and we finally pulled off to the side of the Intercoastal Waterway. While we waited, boats full of duck hunters and anglers flew past us at full speed despite the dangerous lack of visibility.
We were nearly halfway to the blind, and conditions were dramatically deteriorating. It was at this point that we needed to make a decision.
We could press on to the blind, hugging the shoreline to stay out of the way of other boats. Luckily, we had been fishing near this spot many times, so we had a lot of tracks on the GPS to guide us there. Once we got there, we could wait out the fog, hunt, and then come home.
BUT.
We were only halfway there, and the conditions only seemed to deteriorate as we went further South. IF we made it there safely, there was no telling how long it would take for the fog to move out, and there wouldn’t be any ducks flying until it cleared up anyway. And if it didn’t clear up, we would have to navigate it all the way back to the marina in the same or worse conditions.
This moment is when we need to remember that nature can be as dangerous as it is beautiful, and it’s important to always put safety first. No wild game is worth not coming home.
There was only one logical choice. Feeling disappointed, we slowly idled back to the marina and loaded up to go home. As if to validate our decision, we returned to see that the same seven guides still hadn’t left for their guided trips.
Being on the water offers a multitude of sights and generous bounty for those that are brave enough to ride her waves. But we cannot forget to respect her power, too; a little bit of wind or a dense fog can turn a duck hunting dream into a tragic nightmare.
We were disappointed to miss a day on the water, but we made the right choice and will be ready to hunt another day.
Jess and the Outdoors 