Shooting Times & Country Magazine
A CLASSIC SERIES REVISITED
Gethin Jones marvels at the prolific writing career of Stanley Duncan and recalls a magical fowling trip from his own school days
I’ve only just read that Stanley Duncan, author of the original Jottings for Wildfowlers, wrote more articles for Shooting Times, and over a longer period — a full 50 years — than any other contributor in the publication’s history. He started at age 16, and his writing covered not only wildfowling but also pigeon shooting, chamberless 12-bores and punt-guns. Gough Thomas, the publication’s best-known writer on guns and shooting practicalities, wrote for 40 years, in comparison.
Stanley Duncan’s term of service was so long that it reflected the huge changes which took place in wildfowling from before World War I, when everything that flew over the foreshore was considered fair game (Duncan’s own records include spotted redshank, ruff, reeve, kestrel, corn bunting, swallow, owl, heron and kingfisher), to a time when far fewer species of birds were shot and wildfowlers became involved in practical conservation and observed shooting seasons more aligned to those we have today.
Revision can often be a good thing. I’ve recently joined another wildfowling club and this week the secretary sent me some guidelines for new members, packed full of good advice, which I hope he doesn’t mind me repeating: “Dress appropriately. Not every day on the marsh is a sub-zero blizzard. Days can be warm in December and freezing cold in October… Know the time of high tide before you get on the marsh. If you have a bad memory, keep the tables in your pocket or write it down...
Try to avoid hurling your coat on, grabbing your gun and running off in the hope of securing some plum spot… It is particularly reprehensible to try to get ‘in front of’ people already in place… Remember the old saying that distance lends enchantment… Make sure that there is no one hidden near you. If it’s dark and windy it’s possible that someone hidden in a nearby creek may not have noticed your arrival. Better to find out then, than when it’s daylight and he’s dropped a goose on your head.” Sound advice indeed.
Snow day
It was 20 February and the last day of the 1977-78 wildfowling season. North Wales had heavy snow overnight and I was waiting for the school bus when the news came that we’d been given the day off. I didn’t need telling twice. In a flash, I’d swapped my school uniform for my fowling gear, grabbed my gun and a pocket full of Alphamax 4s and headed to my pal Richard’s house, from where we walked along the coast to the marsh a few miles away. It was a bitterly cold morning, with squalls of hail and snow carried by the easterly wind falling from clouds so thick that they made the mountains of Meirionnydd disappear.
A party of mallard flew low over the foreshore 100 yards wide of us and into the wind. They hadn’t spotted us and landed among the boulders a couple of hundred yards away. This was an invitation to a stalk.
We were confounded by a squall of hail, which first hit us and then cleared so quickly that the duck spotted us at 80 yards and flew off unsaluted. Walking up a wide channel further on, we spotted four duck on the water that we at first took for mallard. A long, careful stalk revealed that they were pochard. We got as close as we could before the duck took flight, and after I had missed behind, a long shot from my choke barrel brought me my first drake pochard. I retrieved it from the water and held it in my hand to admire its exquisitely barred pale grey plumage and bright chestnut head. Snowflakes appeared out of thin air and alighted on its plumage for a few seconds, magically adding to the bird’s beauty, before I placed it carefully in my gamebag and turned for home.
“Snowflakes appeared out of thin air and alighted on the bird’s plumage”
Gethin Jones is a keen wildfowler and rough shooter. He joined BASC (then WAGBI) at the age of 16, the day after he shot his first mallard.