Hunting Puddle Ducks in New England

I was 10 years old when dad and I paddled our way through the pre-dawn darkness to the far end of a nearby pond. My father sat in the back, guiding us through weeds and floating debris. I was in the front and aware of everything—the sound of the water dripping from our paddles, the smell of the muddy water. Suddenly, the stillness was shattered a loud thwap. A monstrous ball of fur, not happy about our presence, slapped its tail on the surface and swam away. My father reassured me it was only a beaver.

Arriving at a small island in the middle of dead trees dotting the water and reaching up to the sky, we made ourselves busy hiding the canoe, then put out the decoys that would hopefully draw ducks.

With the sun cresting the horizon, we spotted flocks of woodies flying the edge of the pond. My father called to them with a homemade call crafted from two soda bottle tops glued together. Weeeeeet-weeeet, he called out. They didn’t even circle. Instead, the flock of eight came straight in with their feet down. My father came up shooting with his prized 12-gauge, a J.P. Sauer & Sohn side-by-side, dropping two ducks on his side. I used my Belgium-made Browning 20-gauge that my father had given me for this occasion. What a treasure that shotgun was, full of promise for a lifetime of hunts to come. Taking aim at the drake closest to me, I mounted my gun and pulled the trigger. My shotgun barked once, twice, three times. No duck.

Not having much time to worry about my poor shooting, another group of ducks brought more opportunity. Typical of woodies, the flock banked to one side in unison as they picked up the spread of decoys, looking for an opening we had left in the middle of the rig.

My father bellowed, “Now!” Suddenly the flock flared up, reaching for altitude. We rose simultaneously, mounting our guns and cleanly bringing down a couple apiece on the outside edge of the flock.

“I have two birds down!” I proudly informed my father. From the smile on his face, I could tell he already knew. Those kinds of hunts with my father continued through my teen years and into college. I always made sure, no matter what I had going on in my life, I would never miss an opening day with him. We were not great duck hunters, but for what we lacked in knowledge, we made up for with hard work and scouting. He instilled a love for waterfowl hunting in me that remains to this day . In fact, I’ve made it a career, guiding hunters from around the world and writing about my adventures, and parent-child hunts are my favorite hunts to host. I will always remember that dark morning, when the unhappy beaver greeted us.

SMALL-WATER HOT SPOTS

I’ve learned that when hunting puddle ducks in New England, it’s not unusual to see beavers and moose nearby, especially in the secluded ponds that we hunt near Hopkinton, Deerfield and other areas outside of Concord, N.H. My favorite way to hunt is to find the woodies’ flight path, then sit near the water and make ripples on the surface as I give a loud greeter call. Wood duck calls are so effective that I often don’t need to blow a mallard call, as the puddlers will come when they hear the squeal.

Scouting has become simple with modern technology. Google Maps and apps like onX Hunt and HuntStand have revealed many locations I was previously unaware of. But, as was the case when I first started hunting 50 years ago, nothing beats feet-on-the-ground scouting. I generally look for small ponds with swamps nearby. In Rhode Island, for example, I’ve located such habitat mid-state. Areas around Foster and Glocester, along with areas in Hope Valley in the southern part of the state, hold some gems.

For hunters along the length of the Connecticut River, oxbows created by heavy rains are fantastic places to hunt.

Never overlook public hunting ground, either. Yes, opening day tends to get a bit crowded in some locations, but during the week, or the in later part of the season, you can have many places all to yourself. Just east of Charlestown, R.I., South Shore Management Area has an abundance of ducks and geese. In fact, the goose fields they offer are so popular, you need to reserve them prior to hunting. In Massachusetts, waterfowlers can enjoy hunting at the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge.

Maine’s Merrymeeting Bay is a large, freshwater tidal bay that historically has been a great place for duck hunting. It has been said that the concentration of waterfowl there is second only to that of Chesapeake Bay. Leon Leonwood Bean, founder of L.L. Bean, often hunted there with his decoy maker, George Soule.

ACCESS AND TACTICS

After confirming ducks are using a spot you want to hunt, the next step is to see if there’s public access. If it’s completely private, yet far enough away from houses, you might be surprised how easy it is to obtain permission to hunt, though it’s best to find out who actually owns the land. I’ve been turned away by people who live in a nearby house, only to find out they rent and have no say about what happens on that land. Great hunts happen through due diligence on the part of the hunter.

Small waters are a treasure for new hunters and veterans alike, and often require no more than a dozen decoys and a small boat or canoe. With today’s lifelike decoys, a spread consisting of six wood ducks and six mallards will draw ducks from a great distance. My favorite way of rigging them is a Texas rig, with the decoy line running through the keel and a weight on the other end.

You don’t have to be a world-class caller to attract ducks on small waters, either. Manufactures like Haydel’s sell wood duck calls that sound lifelike, and when paired with the brand’s trusty DR-85 mallard call, it can be hard to beat. A few five-note lonely Susies thrown at them as they approach the area, along with some contented quacks, is often all that’s needed. Stay away from running a competition routine. Just sound like contented ducks on the water and they will come.

DAYS OF HUNTING’S PAST

Although my father has passed, every season I feel the need to relive the kind of hunts we shared years ago. Last season, using the methods described above, I located a couple of great prospects. Settling on one, I arrived in the dark to an area reminiscent of the flooded timber of my youth. Without much room for all the decoys I had brought, a handful would have to be enough. I had my retriever, George, with me in hopes he would find any duck dropped in the high grass. Just before legal shooting time, a group of mallards flew overhead. As dawn broke, I spotted an incoming group of woodies. Calling to them, a drake made his approach. I mounted my shotgun and quickly brought down the lead bird, then the one behind it.

Pivoting to my right, following the other two, I sent my third shot at the ones that were scrambling for altitude, but missed. George made quick work of the two I’d dropped. Soon thereafter, a duo of mallards came. I managed to take down that pair as well. Several more ducks maneuvered to my rig, looking for a landing spot. The action was fast and furious, with no end in sight. Reaching a limit, memories of my father came to mind. Looking at the Browning humpback he had given me so many years ago, I was thankful for the greater gift he provided—a lifetime of chasing these beautiful birds, and all the joys that have come with doing so.

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• This article was featured in the December/January 2025 issue of Game & Fish magazine. Click to subscribe.

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