Shooting Times & Country Magazine
Operation goose chase
Chris Dalton brings an unusual last-resort mission, Operation Goose, to a successful conclusion despite facing some tricky challenges
For the most part, at least professionally, my life pretty much centres around deerstalking and management. I like to think that, as far as the UK species are concerned, it’s a subject I know a fair bit about. Having been involved with some areas of our countryside for more than 20 years, I feel a sense of responsibility for those places and to the individual owners concerned.
Occasionally, I am asked to help with problems that are outside of my deer responsibilities. A few days ago, I got a desperate call from the daughter of a farmer who runs riding stables. She was at her wit’s end over large numbers of geese, which had made their home in three lower grazing fields bounded by a river. Initially, this was not a major problem, but as numbers had been expanding at a pace, now the fields were grazed down to dust and the area covered in goose droppings. Anyone who has kept geese will appreciate the mess that they make.
Some years ago, I made the mistake of moving four white geese for a friend. Having loaded the birds into my pickup truck, we made a journey of no more than 15 minutes. When I released them, I could not believe it was physically possible for four birds to leave behind that large a volume
after almost a day of effort involving RSPCA and farm staff, no geese were caught. It was time for a rethink. As a last resort, the farmer had advised his daughter to call me to see if I could shoot some. A few days later, I was headed south.
I know the ground and was concerned about how I was going to shoot geese without causing some serious public-relations issues. This is a residential area located on the edge of a large and bustling town. The land boundary is the river. On the other bank are manicured and landscaped gardens leading up to some grand, detached properties — all of which have a panoramic outlook on to the fields. It rather resembles the large stadia used to host the Super Bowl.
The farm lane, which is also a well-used public footpath, bounds the fields on the other side, so shooting away at geese in the field was not going to go well, I feared. I like to be discreet at the best of times when involved in something like this. Not everyone is going to understand the need for these geese to be shot; they are causing a major problem and numbers simply must be controlled. While I will not shy away from the conversation if I need to have it, I don’t want to force a confrontation if it can be avoided.
So, were this a military operation, we would sit down in an O Group — Orders Group, for those not in the know — and decide on the mission, planning and execution. But as it was only me, I mulled it all over on the drive south. I had already decided a shotgun was not an option. Too noisy. I would be lucky to get more than two or three geese before they
“I opted for a .177 HMR, which would be quieter than a large calibre rifle”
were off. Having attracted everyone’s attention, I would then have to pick-up the dead geese from the fields in full view of the houses.
Sensibly, I decided the weapon of choice needed to be a rifle. I opted for a .177 HMR that, when moderated, would be quieter than a larger calibre rifle, but at the same time would allow me to shoot accurately from distance.
I am also aware, after conversations with crofters on North Uist — the Scottish islands have severe problems due to the sheer numbers of geese — that not only is this round effective at killing geese, but it acts as a real deterrent to them coming back to the same fields. I now had what I thought was a workable plan.
In the picture
Having got the all-clear from the landowners, I spoke to both the police via 101, the local wildlife police officer and the RSPCA, so all were briefed
and fully in the picture. I checked-in to local accommodation and went for a quick recce around 45 minutes before dark.
The geese, a lot of them, had left the field and were settled on a shallow bank on my side of the river, clearly intent on roosting there. Even from 300 yards away, I could see a section of the bank, around 100 yards long, that had collapsed, caused by the geese making their way from the water. There was a mix of Canadas, some feral white geese and some black-and-white hybrids that had clearly interbred.
Ambush point
The route the geese followed as they left the river was obvious by the damage and a well-worn track. A large area of preened and discarded feathers also showed where they were feeding. This goose walkway channelled them into a little hollow in the middle of a field, about
170 yards from a large oak tree. The tree was next to a wall, providing an ideal elevated position. I now had my ambush point well away from the water. With my plan formulated, I withdrew.
I would be back at the wall well before dawn, build and bag, and be out of there before anyone was any the wiser to Operation Goose.
It was a warm, still and humid night. I was faced with the same conditions as I got out of the truck in the semi-darkness the next morning. Most of the surrounding bedroom windows were open. This was less than ideal, as the noise of my shots would carry a long way. One advantage, though, was the artificial light coming from the surrounding properties. With 45 minutes until sun-up, I could see that there were geese already feeding in the field.
“It’s far better to play the longer game and avoid creating a problem in the first place”
I admit to being slightly apprehensive as I lined up the first shot on one of the big ganders, who was standing erect and on guard. I fired. The shot sounded incredibly loud to me, but the goose lay still after the briefest of wing flaps. I shot three more before they started to move back to the river, and a fifth as it paused halfway back, clearly unsure what was happening. Strangely, the birds did not fly, but instead waddled back towards the river. The fleeing geese, totally confused, made their way across the field in front of me.
By the time they had realised that the field was not a good place to be — and were back on the river and heading off downstream — there were 14 fewer in their ranks. The action had probably lasted less than seven minutes, but it had sounded, to my ear, like a battle from the Somme. I fully expected to look up across the river to see lights on and folk peering out of bedroom windows with an armed police unit on the way. Instead, all was calm and serene. Gathering up the slain as quickly as possible, I breathed a huge sigh of relief that the morning had passed without incident.
At the debrief, the owners were grateful, delighted to learn of the successful outcome of Operation Goose. It is a shame that I have to resort to such subterfuge when engaged in what is after all a perfectly legal and legitimate activity, but we also have to face up to the attitudes and political climate that we live in.
It would have been easy to say that I have every right to be doing this and just get on with it, despite the consequences — but that may have resulted in major upset and quite possibly ended up with the police involved. In my view, it’s far better to play the longer game and avoid creating a problem in the first place.