Talking turkey recovery
Reintroducing eastern wild turkey to Ontario one of the ‘great conservation success stories.’ Hunting potential was part of the plan
A hooting owl lamented the night’s passage, the moon’s reflected farewell through a break in the clouds paling against the eastern horizon’s crimson promise.
A diverse avian salute greeted impending dawn: a cardinal’s twotiered “schaweet, schaweet, tut, tut, tut, tut,” the killdeer’s distinctive self-promoting cry piercing lowhanging mist, rhythmic wingbeats of a pair of honking geese.
And then to the northwest, the throaty thunder of an eastern wild turkey tom’s gobble rolled through the darkness. Enough to raise the hair on the back of one’s neck, its inherent declaration of dominance containing open invitation to hens within earshot, arrogant challenge to rivals near and far.
The operatic song and dance resulting from a wild turkey’s spring fancy turning to thoughts of love was a feature of pre-settlement Ontario forests. It had been missing from the province since the early 1900s due to habitat loss and unregulated overhunting.
American experience proved reintroduction was possible, however. A provincial heritage plaque along 3rd Concession Road in Norfolk north of Port Rowan marks the initial March 3, 1984, release into the Backus Woods for 11 hens sourced from southern Missouri.
Twenty-two hens and five toms were released that month, most fitted with radio collars for monitoring, the vanguard for 274 birds at six different locations by 1987. A cumulative flock of 4,400 eastern wild turkeys was eventually released at 275 Ontario sites.
Provincial population estimates reached 48,000 by 2002 and 70,000
by 2007, with range expanding well past pre-settlement norms of north to Lake Simcoe and eastward between Toronto and Trenton. Contemporary forestry and agricultural conditions and a milder climate are cited, along with the fact hens may lay, hatch and raise doubledigit broods.
“The restoration of eastern wild turkey to Ontario is considered one of our greatest conservation success stories,” says Patrick Hubert, senior wildlife biologist/policy adviser with the Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry (MNRF). “This is a credit not only to the many people and organizations involved in pushing for the return of the species and working together to make it happen, but also the adaptability of the bird.”
Hunting potential was part of reintroduction, the first legal season held during the spring of 1987.
Spring season hunters must only harvest birds with beards, by great majority adult (tom) or juvenile ( jake) males. One of either sex may be harvested in the fall.
Hubert says the 2019 implementation of mandatory reporting provided tools to understand population trends from harvest and disease pressure, including pox virus, West Nile virus and avian influenza.
“While wild turkeys continue to thrive in Ontario, we have to continue to manage populations and harvest carefully.”
Beyond harvesting, processing and consuming game, the classic spring morning hunt’s parameters lend themselves to an intimate and potentially addictive immersive natural experience. Turkey breeding season features aggressive prosecution of dominance, among hens to attract the largest, strongest males, and among the latter to establish themselves as the most attractive option. Doing so features a stunning audiovisual combination of gobbling and “strutting,” orienting their body, wing and tail feathers to make themselves appear loud, large and impressive — in short, a tom’s version of sexy.
Being present during this ritual means viewing an impressive if potentially vicious balletic courtship. There is a definite pecking order — large, dominant mature birds ready to attack rivals with beak, wings and sharply pointed spurs; mid-range contenders challenging the big boys; and juvenile jakes inexperienced or enthusiastic enough to take risks. And “boss” hens prepared to do the same with other females to maintain status.
Tactically, hunters attempt to avoid detection while heading out to a promising, ideally pre-scouted position. Legally, the day’s hunting closes at 7 p.m., but many choose pre-dawn darkness. Camouflaged or inside a blind, they attempt to imitate the call of an amorous hen convincingly enough to bring a tom within range. Often, decoys will be employed with either a hen or combination of hens along with a juvenile ( jake) positioned over an apparently willing hen, which may enrage dominant toms to the point of attacking.
In practice, this approach can work out very well, be successful over time with varying call-and-response technique, or be frustratingly ineffective even with birds in full view.
Transplanted Mississauga native Stephen Lem understood the latter scenario only too well after embracing the heartland of Ontario’s wild turkey resurgence in conjunction with Norfolk County employment. His transition included joining Fire Station 9 in Port Rowan while giving turkey hunting a try. Able to laugh now at his sodden debut in the pouring rain and his second season with a crank radio, a frustrated Lem gave up for several years before returning with modestly upgraded technical advice combined with enhanced understanding a turkey can virtually see and hear forever.
Lem had several close calls, one tom on the edge of ethical range, another pair of juveniles surprising him with camera, rather than firearm, in hand. Despite years of supping on “tag soup” (a euphemism for an unfilled tag), he thoroughly enjoyed himself.
“What I really appreciated is nature, and listening to all the sounds first thing in the morning and the wildlife coming to life first thing as the sun comes up. And just being still and being by yourself, it’s just a tranquil experience.
“Being out here and being still and knowing what to look for, the senses just awaken. The vision gets sharper, the hearing gets crisper, it’s just nice.”
As a city person, Lem admits he had a skewed view of hunting as “something simple that anyone could do.”
“It’s an art form on its own,” he countered, educated through his gun ownership, licensing and turkey hunting courses, experience and interaction with other hunters. “Each year there is something I pick up.
“Eventually it turned out to some bounty.”
On this morning, two passing deer and a series of gobbles 10 minutes after setting up elevated Lem’s excitement along with the rising sun. Going “soft” — a single series of gentle yelps and purrs — proved effective as two birds circled behind the blind, appearing roughly 100 metres to to the north in an open field. A second series of calls, including more aggressive “cuts,” turned indecision into action. The lead bird pivoted and essentially sprinted toward the decoys. Larger birds may come in slowly, spitting, giving interlopers the option to decamp, but these two juveniles rushed in to lay an avian beating on the “jake.” Lem calmly waited for three full minutes until the larger of the two presented a stationary target.
“Excited, adrenalin, JEFF TRIBE total happiness,” he summed up, looking forward to a variety of culinary options and back on his journey as much as this notable destination.
“You’re not there just to kill, you’re there to harvest the bounty, be appreciative of what you got and also learning the whole experience of start to finish.”
There was investment in time, effort and money, Lem concluded, and many very early mornings. But it had proven worthwhile in the broadest sense, a long-term quest checked off his bucket list.
“At the end of the day it’s the experience.”