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HACKBERRY, La.--Most hunters and anglers, espe- cially those who write about the outdoors, are incurable romantics. Life is a celebration, filled with a quest for experiences both symbolic and enduring.
So it was that I returned with my wife, Maria, to the land of her birth, to the bountiful waters and live oak forests of her native Louisiana for our wedding anniversary. I treated her to a couple of dreamy, early January days in a Hackberry duck blind.
Nothing says "I love you" quite like jointly firing shot patterns at a group of gadwall and watching hard-working Labrador retrievers earn their chow. Unfortunately, the rain and sleet didn't come until the day after the actual anniversary date, but it was pleasant nevertheless.
We had discussed going to Venice, Italy, for the anniversary, but I assured her this would be almost like it, only better! Louisiana marsh canals, to the creative mind, are reminiscent of the canals of Venice--only without the old buildings, laundry hanging out of apartment windows, and hordes of people. I was tempted to ask our guide if he could croon, or even hum, a couple Italian love songs while we polled the pirogue through the mud flats. You never know--these duck guides are versatile chaps.
Black Lake Lodge is duck central in southwestern Louisiana. Manager Ronny Doucett sounded almost apologetic when he pulled me aside and whispered they'd only taken 5,000 ducks this year off the 8,000 acres of marsh he manages. More than 3,700 had come during the "first split," as Louisiana calls the first part of its two-part season.
"It's been slow during the second split, but some blinds have been doing really well," he said.
Doucett's freshwater north marsh was lush with grass and held thousands of ringneck ducks that no amount of shooting could drive away. Elsewhere, ducks were flying, but they were educated, late-season birds. The main exceptions were pintails, which were protected from shooting during the second split and routinely decoyed, of course, over the blind.
Our first morning saw the weather turn dramatically. A northwest wind howled. In the first minutes of legal shooting, a single widgeon circled right, flying erratically, battling the wind. I shot and missed. Strong wind is notorious for blowing a pattern of steel shot. (That's my excuse, anyway.)
Guide Darrell Guidry called a gadwall in about an hour later. The bird decoyed well and was soon being retrieved by Guidry's dog, Duke.
Three mallards then swung around, wings cupped and feet out. We expected easy pickings. Wrong. The birds must've seen something they didn't like and flared about 55 yards out.
The wind blew so heavily that decoys tilted sideways against the water's surface. Most ducks in our vicinity were pitching down into small pools and potholes where the tall grass afforded protection against the winds.
Back at the lodge, a heaping plate of tasty shrimp Creole, followed by warm pecan pie, helped offset our slow morning.
A few blinds did limit out, nabbing a mix of ringnecks, gadwall, scaup, green and blue wing teal, mallard and widgeon. One blind nailed a few snow geese.
Doucett, hunting out of a pirogue, guided his hunters to a limit of ringnecks, spoonbills (shovelers), mallards and gadwall. They also claimed two specklebelly geese. These beautiful geese make fine table fare. They also look great mounted and the lodge has one featured in the dining room--wings cupped, feet out.
A later hunt with Guidry saw us quickly score three greenwing teal and a shoveler. Amid the wind and rain, we rotated to a north marsh blind and proceeded to blast away at ringnecks until we reached a limit and it was time to leave and hurriedly pack for the flight home. The morning's prize was a flight of specklebellies that crossed right in front of our blind. As the Louisianans say, it was "a little lagniappe."
One of the two birds that fell had numerous beautiful black bands along its breast. It's going to the taxidermist instead of a roasting pan.
Black Lake Lodge has been around for nearly 20 years. It sits at the end of a winding gravel road, just north of the Sabine Wildlife Refuge and smack in the middle of Cameron Parish, Louisiana's leading duck hunting location.
Doucett and his team run a first- class operation. Most hunters get hooked; one was back for his 15th consecutive year. The food was excellent and the open bar with top quality adult beverages helped lubricate the joints following a day of hunting and fishing in and around the marsh.
The Deep South had another mixed duck hunting season again this year, courtesy of a warmer winter in the Midwest that allowed birds to remain in northern and central states. In our Atlantic Flyway, many Virginia shooters who had access to open water reported great success during the season's final three weeks.
Doucett is planning some habitat improvements for next year that should help pull in any birds that decide (or are forced by weather) to make the full migration south. He plans on draining the entire marsh in late spring to seed and make other habitat upgrades. As rains gradually refill those thousands of acres, duck habitat should blossom, making a remarkable waterfowl destination even better.
Now, this was an anniversary trip, not a honeymoon, so the absence of a heart-shaped tub was no big deal. We felt suitably geezerish--a little like Rob and Laura Petry of the ancient "Dick Van Dyke" TV show, with the room's two twin beds separated by a light table. But if great food and quality time sharing hand warmers in a duck blind count for anything, well, you couldn't find a better place for pitching woo.
Heck, next time I may just go for the duck hunting.
You can reach Black Lake Lodge at blacklakelodge.com or by calling 337/762-3157. The Southwest Louisiana Convention and Visitors Bureau at 800/456-SWLA or visitlakecharles.org can also help point visitors to hunting and fishing adventures.
KEN PERROTTE can be reached at The Free Lance-Star, 616 Amelia St., Fredericksburg, Va. 22401; by fax at 373-8455; or e-mail at kmunicate@aol.com.