A TRIO of teal skimmed the edge of the saltings as I looked up from winding in a decoy. It would have been a good chance if I had been in the hide but, after six hours of patient waiting without much of a chance of any description, their passage went unsaluted. When your luck deserts you it really does desert you!

It had been so different the week before when a magazine cameraman met me en-route to the marshes in order to boost his collection of wildfowling pictures. Even though it was early November, and as such there ought to be a few birds around, it was likely to be pot luck whether or not any shooting was to be had.

The first challenge would be whether the cameraman was capable of getting out to the far edges of the saltmarsh where I wanted to try a tide flight. But in the event he was younger than me, and fit enough, and despite never having experienced the ‘delights’ of the Medway Estuary he did remarkable well.

Even though he was weighed down with heavy camera equipment there was never more than the odd difficulty in crossing the occasional deep creek.

There was a good stiff south westerly wind blowing and we went right off to the east to where a deep creek dissects the saltings. This can be a reasonable place to ambush wigeon early in the season but the flat expanses of mud around the low water channel were devoid of any duck and things looked far from promising when we arrived.

Building a hide large enough for two men and two dogs took a little time, as did the setting of the decoys. The whole exercise being accompanied by the constant click of camera shutter, including the inevitable staged shots of an assortment of wildfowling gear.

FLOOD TIDE

Eventually the tide was up to and around the decoys and to my intense relief a few wigeon began to move, even though none were cooperative to begin with. Many of the birds followed their usual pattern of flighting right into the back of the saltmarsh before dropping down out of sight.

Soon there were birds scattered here and there, and this was the time to remain vigilant in case birds come from any direction with little or no warning. Those early birds that did come kept well wide of the decoys and it seemed as though luck would be against us.

Eventually our luck changed as a trio of wigeon came back down the creek, did a cursory pass of the decoys and one of their number fell to the third shot. That first bird was a great relief for now we had the material necessary to add quarry to the stock of pictures being taken.

A few minutes later a single hen wigeon came to the decoys with more confidence and she too joined us at the hide.

I have often noticed how duck seem to move in pulses. A flurry of bird movement will often be sandwiched between long spells of inactivity throughout the tide. It is only on the really exceptional days when there is continuous bird movement.

Why this is so I cannot say. Perhaps the birds settle in to feed for a while and then move again if disturbed, whether by the movement of the tide or some other natural phenomenon. No doubt another of those irresolvable natural mysteries that plague us outdoor folk!

TEAL

It never ceases to amaze me how birds can sneak up on you, even though you think you are fully alert. Two teal cut past the hide from the right, flying low over the flooding tide and turning into the decoys so that the colour of their speculum was easily visible.

It is at such times that a terrific scramble ensues for the birds are at the edge of the decoys and committed. But the Gun drops the first bird and even as it falls the muzzle is chasing upward at the climbing second bird. This too splashes into the tide for a classic right-and-left.

Later a pair of teal cut down the edge of the saltmarsh and climbed into the wind to the left of the hide. A bird crumpled and fell behind our island for the dogs to hunt with ease. It was a fine cock bird in all its subtle winter finery.

Much later, after adding a couple more wigeon to the bag, we came off via a circular route due to too much talking and not enough concentration!

Once you lose your way in the dark these saltmarshes look all the same and there was some retracing of steps to be done before the seawall finally beckoned.