Windbirds

By Gary Koehler, Senior Writer
Outlawed for decades, shorebird hunting produced a rich legacy of folk art

Until 1913, when Congress put an end to spring migratory bird hunting, many gunners up and down the Atlantic Flyway both opened and closed their seasons by pursuing shorebirds.

Beginning in July (but taking a break for traditional fall and winter waterfowl hunting), and then resuming in February when shorebirds were returning to their northern breeding grounds, both market gunners and sport shooters took curlews, yellowlegs, plovers, dowitchers, and other shorebird species over rigs of mostly handcrafted wooden decoys deployed on sandy beaches.

Some gunners used the shorebird migration as a tune-up to prepare for the wild ducks and geese that would pour down the flyway during the late fall and winter months. Others shot the birds commercially, sending their harvest to New York and other large cities where wild game markets provided a burgeoning population with fresh meat. Being small, and stringy by many accounts, shorebirds were a relatively cheap stewpot alternative.

The passage of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act in 1918, which imposed a ban on the shooting of migratory birds for market, all but marked the end of shorebird hunting, with a few exceptions.

"Hunters, I suspect, shot just about everything until 1918," says Joe French, a nationally recognized decoy historian and collector now residing in Florida. "From then until 1928, the federal government allowed shooting of lesser and greater yellowlegs and black-bellied and golden plover. After that, the seasons on everything [except snipe] were closed."

While the birds themselves have not been hunted in more than 70 years, shorebird decoys and whistles have survived and continue to provide a link to our nation's past.

Long Island, New York, and Nantuckett, Massachusetts, were among the most productive areas in terms of shorebird hunting and decoy carving. New Jersey also figured prominently in the equation. Ironically, perhaps the finest factory-made shorebirds were produced in Michigan by the Mason Decoy Company.

"These birds were shot for the market, so where were the big markets? New York and Boston," says Alan Haid of Connecticut, a prominent collector and dealer who has authored two books on vintage decoys. "That's where the people were, and where the railroad systems were, to ship the birds to market. There were a lot of shorebirds migrating through there. Hunters shot them, collected them, put them on the train, and sent them to the city."

Written accounts from this period indicate that few shorebirds were known for their wary behavior. In fact, a hunter hidden behind a sand dune or pile of hay needed only minimal equipment. Once they found an area they liked, these birds-often identified universally as "snipe"-would come in droves, even when shooting was ongoing.

"Hunters typically had rigs of one or two dozen shorebirds that they would set out," Haid says. "That's about all they needed in most situations."

Decoys used for shorebird hunting could be hollow or solid wood, or made of tin or cork. "Market hunters and sportsmen made their own decoys," French says, "but you can find a few individuals, the ones who are really known today, who, maybe, did it [carved] for a living."

Although collectors will argue over which carvers established the shorebird-carving standard, most historians will agree that Harry Shourds (Tuckerton, New Jersey), A. Elmer Crowell (East Harwich, Massachusetts), John Dilley (Quogue, Long Island, New York), Obediah Verity (Seaford, Long Island, New York), and William Bowman (Old Town, Maine/Lawrence, Long Island, New York) were among the masters of this craft.

"Each area had its own style," French says. "You can pick them out. People who know them can look at a bird and say, 'That's a New Jersey bird, or that's a Massachusetts bird.' You learn to know what to look for.

There are variations. "The problem with shorebird collecting is the change of plumage," French adds. "You have your basic spring and fall changes. Most carvers had two seasons [plumage paint patterns] because the birds were shot in the spring and the fall. It's something that you wouldn't think about."

If decoys were a mainstay of the gear bag, so were shorebird whistles, some of which have been traced to the 1860s.

"Shorebird whistles were a part of shorebird hunting," Haid says. "People used their mouths to call them, and all kinds of whistles, even dog whistles, and so forth. There were a lot of specially made whistles that the hunters bought.

"There were a number of firms in Boston making shorebird whistles. Woodman and National Sportsman made little German-silver shorebird whistles of different shapes and sizes. And they stamped their names on them. Today, those are the most choice of all the whistles available."

"Shorebirds, I think, basically survived much better than duck decoys," French says. "Number one, because hunters continued to use their duck decoys, and these had to be repainted. People hung on to shorebirds because they don't take up a lot of space and they are pretty. They stuck them up in rafters and places like that. Many of them were found in barns."

Folk art collectors became interested in shorebird decoys about the same time that duck decoys began gaining popularity-during the 1960s. French, a former Missouri resident who began visiting old duck hunting camps along the Illinois River in 1955, is unquestionably among the first Midwest decoy collectors.

"It was only a matter of trading; very little money ever changed hands in the early days," French says.

"Bill Mackey (a prominent East Coast collector, now deceased) loved Mason decoys. I would send him Masons and he would send me something back, sometimes shorebird decoys. Things were different then."

Just how different became increasingly obvious earlier this year when Sotheby's of New York auctioned more than 600 decoys and other sporting collectibles from the estate of the late Dr. James M. McCleery of Texas. Included among the shorebirds was a late 19th century long-billed curlew carved by Bowman. The price? $464,500.

Most of us have seen them in one place or another. They may have taken the shape of a squadron of miniature fighter jets buzzing the decoys in a breezy coastal marsh and causing your pulse to quicken for a brief moment. Or they may have been those raucous, insistent willet flying just above your head, enlivening an otherwise peaceful walk as you strolled through a prairie wetland in the summer.

Perhaps they were those silly-looking windup toys that followed the waves untiringly up and down the beach; sanderlings on the move, constantly probing the wet sand for some hidden reward. Whatever their form, it is safe to say that if you spend time outdoors, especially near water, chances are you are familiar with shorebirds.