Wood Duck Trapping & Banding
Muddy Work, But Somebody Has to Do It
by Richard Simms
(Photo Gallery Below)
The first ducks came low across the swamp, settling into the water just out of range. We all grew tense as more ducks soared overhead, turning hard on set wings that carried them downward like parachutes. In just a few minutes the swamp seemed littered with ducks and we were all afraid to breath for fear we would be spotted, spooking our quarry before they were in the bag.
The hunt took place in an East Tennessee swamp in August. The group was not breaking the law however. That's because four of them, Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency Biologist Ben Layton along with wildlife officers Russell Vandergriff, Clint Smith and Sean Edgmon, were officially on duty doing research. The mission -- to capture and band as many wood ducks as possible. The weapon of choice -- a rocket-propelled cannon net.
Tennessee is one of the few states allowed to have a special September hunting season for wood ducks, the only waterfowl species that nests primarily in the South. Part of the deal with the federal officials that regulate such things is that TWRA must conduct an aggressive banding effort to help monitor the population.
"Every August we try to band at least 100 female wood ducks in each (TWRA) region," said Layton. "Sometimes that's tough in East Tennessee where we don't have as much good habitat." Vandergriff had been applying bait to this area for more than a month, making almost daily treks into the muddy swamp to keep the wood ducks well-fed, and hopefully, unwary. The heavy net had been hauled in the night before, carefully set and camouflaged with natural grass they cut nearby.
Ducks Unlimited volunteer Ross Malone went along on the "shoot day," his first time behind a cannon net.
"This was not a cake walk," he exclaimed. "It takes a lot of planning and effort. These guys have really done a lot of work."
Within minutes of first light about 20 wood ducks eased onto dry land and then rushed the piles of corn in a feathery feeding frenzy. Layton tensed, preparing to initiate an electric charge to ignite to rockets. Before the perfect moment came however, the birds spooked -- a flurry of wing beats carried them back into the swamp. We feared we had missed our chance.
The minutes crept by like molasses. In the growing daylight, with dozens of duck eyes just yards away, we were pinned down like soldiers caught behind enemy lines. More wood ducks gradually filtered in, which meant more wary eyeballs watching for one wrong move. Nearly an hour later we apparently had stayed stock still long enough. The dozens of wood ducks settled down and the first young bird gathered the courage to set foot ashore, easing toward the corn. Like cattle headed for the last bale of hay, dozens more quickly followed suit, gathering at the corn piled in front of the camouflaged net.
Moving only my eyeballs, I saw the red light come on as Layton armed the ignition switch. Still he waited patiently until the perfect moment when most of the birds had heads down, relaxed and feeding.
"You worry about whether the rocket net is going to go off or did we line everything up right," Layton told me later. "It's just like hunting. Sometimes it doesn't work out and we may have to sit three days in a row before we get the ducks in a good position to shoot the net over them. There are a lot of variables."
All variables were eliminated when Layton's finger touched the magic button. It looked, and sounded, like a shuttle launch. The rockets roared to life in a massive boil of smoke, streaking through the air like, well, rockets. One wing beat from a wood duck can easily carry them 20 feet aloft. This time however, the rocket was quicker than the wing. As they sprang to the air, most of the ducks were engulfed by the soft mesh.
Now it was a flurry of rushing feet and men groveling in the mud to keep the frantic birds from struggling out from beneath the edges of the net.
"We've got 32," someone yelled.
That was before a few ducks made good on their escape. Then the work begins, quickly and efficiently in hopes of causing the wild woodies as little stress as possible. Layton examined each of the 27 wood ducks to determine sex and age while Edgmon affixed a metal band to each bird's leg for permanent identification.
Layton says the Tennessee wood duck population is healthy, largely due to the efforts of sportsmen, like Ducks Unlimited members, who spend millions in licenses for their protection and management. Layton has many more days of "management" before his banding task is finished. He says however, "it sure beats being at the office behind a desk."
Upon release each wood duck wasted no time leaving the country, and most likely will avoid this Marion County swamp forever. As Malone put it, "may the birds be blessed for the information they carry on their legs, providing a message that is vital to their future."
Well put.
WOOD DUCK TRAPPING PHOTO GALLERY
Photos by Richard Simms
TWRA Biologist Ben Layton is up well before the sun preparing and camouflaging the cannon net.
On this "firing, 32 wood ducks end up under the net, however five escape before workers can "lay hands" on them.
The woodies are just coming out of their summer plummage, however the distinctive red eye makes it clear that this is a drake. Hens have yellow eyes.
It is muddy work, but somebody has to do it.
Workers move quickly to get pertinent data recorded about each bird before they're are banded and released.
TWRA's Clint Smith pauses momentarily before releasing the drake woodie.
Once released, the birds waste no time "fleeing the scene."
Ducks Unlimited volunteer Ross Malone watches on as Smith releases another banded wood duck. As Malone said, "may the birds be blessed for the information they carry on their legs, providing a message that is vital to their future."
