Passing on the duck hunting experience

From 150 yards away, a squadron of three ducks, all pintail, arced in formation and flew in a half circle around the marsh. To my left, the master quacked with his duck call, an urging, pained call, trying to draw them in. Next to the master, the young apprentice peered over the top of the duck blind, watching the ducks fly, taking in every moment.

The pintail whizzed past at 50 mph, 60 yards out and high, and we ducked down to let them pass. Some duck hunters would have tried a wild, long shot and spooked the birds away. Not the master, Mike Crews, a talented caller, father of two boys and mentor of young men.

"Maybe we can bring them around again," Crews whispered. The apprentice, my son Kris, 19, on winter break from Cal, clicked his shotgun off safety.

Crews picked up his double-reed Sutter Basin Duck Call, invented for this moment. "When the ducks get close, you need a finishing call, subtle and alluring," he whispered. "You only get that with a double-reed."

With the call, Crews then produced a soft, low raspy gurgle, like a duck moaning "I'm so lonely, come on down, I'm a gonna-die without ya."

The three pintail circled again, approached fast, and then locked their wings and sailed down toward the nearby decoys. We got all three. For Kris, this experience was like unlocking a secret door. "Best duck hunt I've ever had," he said.

Youth and the future

We started the afternoon Wednesday in a duck blind in a rice field near the Sutter County town of Yuba City, just east of the Sutter National Wildlife Refuge. During our hunt, several themes became apparent: Youth need parents or mentors to take part in the outdoors, the future of waterfowl populations could be at risk without them, and the level of skill needed to bring the birds in has never been higher.

Crews, 40, has hunted since age 8, introduced to the sport by his dad, Walt.

"I learned from my dad that hunting is like life," Crews said. "You learn patience, respect for the animals, birds, and you learn skills, and about birds and wildlife, and how taking care of habitat can keep the populations in good shape. I have two boys, Parker, 12, and Mason, 8, and I'm sharing the same experiences I had with my dad with my children."

He also mentors young adults. "I volunteer to take kids out three or four times a year, whose parents do not hunt. You've got to pass it down, the skills, the appreciation, the experiences."

Many young people are disconnected from nature and very few duck hunt. It could put the future of wetland conservation and waterfowl populations at risk. That is because as older duck hunters die, younger hunters are not replacing them at the same rate to pay for marsh conservation and restoration.

"Most all the money that goes to restore and manage wetlands is paid by duck hunters," Crews said. "That money comes from hunting licenses, federal and state duck stamps, special taxes on hunting equipment, and hunting organizations like California Waterfowl and Ducks Unlimited."

Some people say they love birds and don't like duck hunting, Crews said, "and that's OK, it's their choice." In the next breath he said, "But it bothers me that they say they love ducks but do not buy the federal duck stamp at the post office to support waterfowl habitat.

"It's all about habitat," he said. "That's what determines populations of waterfowl, fish and wildlife. The dollars from duck stamps go to more than ducks. There's dozens of other species that benefit. We saw a bald eagle and four kinds of marsh hawks this morning. If the ducks weren't there, the eagle and hawks wouldn't be there either. But coming up with money to support the future of wildlife is a lot about getting youth involved."

Art of the call