My husband, Gary and I have been married over thirty years. We see things pretty much the same; we finish each other’s sentences; we buy the same things at the grocery store; we plan the same meals for the same night. We do have one major difference. Gary is a true optimist. No matter what is going on or what the situation, he knows in his heart that things will always work out, one way or the other. He sees his glass as half full. I, on the other hand, see the glass as half empty. I don’t use the term pessimism, I prefer realism. If I envision the worst possible scenario then I am expecting it if it happens and if it’s not that bad I am ecstatic – life is good. I am also a believer of Murphy’s Law – if anything can go wrong, it will. This was never more apparent than on a recent hunting trip we took to the coast of North Carolina to hunt tundra swan.
Tundra Swans are large all-white waterfowl with a black bill and black legs. These swans spend the summer in the Canadian North, the Northern United States and Alaska. They fly south for their wintering place. These swans have a soft and melodious call. As flocks fly overhead, the lead swan utters the call and then it is repeated throughout the flock and can be heard for miles. As they fly, they make a whistling or clicking sound caused by the small feathers under the wings. They were formally referred to as “Whistling Swan” because of this sound
North Carolina has one of the largest populations of wintering tundra swan in the Atlantic Flyway. 5000 permits are issued each year in North Carolina and managed by the North Carolina Fish & Wildlife Resource Commission.
We submitted our requests for a permit in September, 2006 along with Jim and Lynne Frady. I checked the web site every day and kept telling Gary that we were probably not going to get a permit. Finally, the results were posted and Gary and I both got a permit. Lynne and Jim did not get drawn but were going with us on the hunt for moral support. We then rapidly made arrangements with Scott Wilkinson and Swan Callers Guide Service for January 20, 2007. In late December, we realized that the date for our hunt was the same weekend as the Archery Trade Association Show in Atlanta, Georgia. We really wanted to attend this year so we called Scott to try to reschedule for the following weekend. He had other clients coming in but they were willing to switch weekends with us. So we’re on again for January 27, 2007.
As the date approached, I discovered that I would have to work on the Friday that we were planning to leave. No problem, we’ll just get there a little later. Jim and Lynne decided to go ahead and leave early that morning. They would find a place to stay and that way everything would be ready when we got there.
Scott called us on Thursday and said there had been a cold front move through and every day since Monday of that week, the number of swans had been decreasing by at least half each day. He said he thought we could still fill our tag but wanted us to know the numbers just were not there. Scott said he wanted to give us the information and let us make up our minds if we still wanted to come. I called Gary at work and he said “Let’s go, we won’t see anything sitting at home on the couch.” So we proceeded to pack and were looking forward to the hunt.
Lynne and Jim had scheduling conflicts and had to back out of the hunt at the last minute. So on Friday afternoon, Gary and I set out. Traffic was not bad until we hit rush hour in Greensboro where it was bumper to bumper on a five-lane interstate. Traffic was inching along and finally came to a complete stop; the car behind us on the other hand did not. We then got to sit on the side of the road for over an hour until the Greensboro Police Officer completed all the paperwork.
I looked at Gary and said, “Do you think we should just turn around and go home? This hunt is doomed.”
“It will all work out,” was Gary’s positive reply.
We arrived in Elizabeth City, North Carolina without further mishap, at about 8:30 p.m.. We called Scott and confirmed the time and location to meet him the next morning. He again told us that the swan’s numbers were still on the decline but he thought we would see some of the huge birds.
The next morning dawned clear, but cold and windy. Clear was bad, windy was good. Gary and I met Scott and were joined by Emmett and Carry McMillen along with Scott’s father, Mickey. We drove a short distance and parked next to a cut wheat field with an irrigation ditch running through it. We were advised to only take the bare necessities as there would be no cover, we would be hunting from the ditch. We walked a short distance through the field, set up the decoys and broke the ice in the irrigation ditch in order to get down in it. Right after day break, Scott saw a flock of swans coming in from some distance away. Scott does not use any man-made calls but calls the swans with his mouth. He has been doing this for sixteen years and it was a real experience to hear him call and the returning calls of the swans. We watched the swans coming in closer from behind us. Emmett turned back around and said we had more coming in from the front of us. The swans in front were close and we all slowly moved to turn around into position as they flew over. The first shot was mine, as I swung my Mossberg 12-gauge Waterfowl Special to lead the swan I squeezed the trigger and my gun jammed! All we could do was sit and watch these swans fly on by.
I looked at Gary and said “Since the numbers are down, we may not see any more.”
He just smiled, “Sure we will. More will come in, just fix your gun.”
I fixed the jam and sat intently watching the sky in hopes of seeing more swans. We didn’t have to wait long before we sighted another flock coming in. The swans could be seen from a long distance with binoculars, but it seemed like forever before you could see them with the naked eye. Scott continued to call to the flock and as they got closer everyone got ready. This group had considerably more than the other flocks that we had seen. Scott just kept saying, be still, be ready, pick your shot. The swans came ever closer and my heart rate began to climb, there would be another opportunity for all of us to fill our tags. Scott called for us to shoot and in a matter of seconds our tags were indeed filled and the hunt was over. Scott, Gary and I had taken mature birds and Carry had harvested one as well. She kept saying she could not believe she had gotten one. She had told us that morning that she didn’t have boots and had worn her husband’s – haven’t we all been there before? This was her first hunt and as she proudly held her swan aloft I felt sure it would not be her last. We sat in the ditch for another hour and Scott kept calling the swans in so we could get pictures and enjoy their beauty. They were beautiful flying in, the white birds against the Carolina blue sky. We were able to get some great pictures and made life long memories.
Our return trip home was uneventful, which made Gary and I both extremely happy. The trip turned out to be a memorable experience – He expected it and it happened. On the other hand, I had anticipated a truly horrible experience and it was great. We met new hunting companions and joined in the first harvest for a new hunter as well as bringing our swans home with us. We will definitely be putting in for the permit again this coming season. Gary is already expecting to be hunting these awesome birds and I am expecting that we will not get a permit – optimism and pessimism.
© March 2007
