Shooting Times & Country Magazine
We must be seen to lead the discussion
There’s nothing like woodcock shooting, but we need to work together and find consensus to protect it, writes Soldier Palmer
Next to wildfowling and the occasional grouse, the focus of my sporting year centres around woodcock. There’s one place I shoot each winter, where woodcock are the primary sporting objective of the day. It was formerly a sheep farm, but in 2000 almost all of it was planted up with a variety of hardwood trees. With 20 years for the trees to grow and expand their cover, the former farm has matured like a fine wine. Surrounded on all sides by boggy pastureland, the birds not only have an abundance of cosy cover to conceal them in the woods, but plenty of access to worms under veil of darkness.
The best of the shooting usually takes place in January, when an informal mini-driven day is held for a group of local farmers and shooting folk. The Guns take turns to beat and shoot, and the nature of woodcock and their ability to twist and turn back on themselves is such that you’re almost as likely to get a shot when you’re walking as standing.
On the biggest day we ever had, the bag was made of 19 woodcock and two hares; a perfect rough -and-ready shoot where everybody had some chances and most people connected. Perhaps we were lucky that the day coincided with woodcock movements on a national and international scale.
When the birds are here, you might see 100 or more in a single day — and yet a different day might only turn up five or 10 birds. That’s part of the challenge of woodcock, and this is absolutely my kind of shooting.
Woodcock on point
My fondest memory is from a day in 2016, when we were joined by a friend who trains German wirehaired pointers (GWPS). His dogs were included in the line and they worked really well throughout the day. I soon learnt to stick with him on some of the more open drives, where sycamore trees and oaks petered out into birches and a smattering
of bog myrtle. Not only were his dogs superb at flushing birds for the line ahead, but they also held several woodcock on point.
He reckoned this was all good training, but he sometimes called me over for the chance of a shot as we walked together. It’s only an informal shoot, but it did seem strange to combine woodcock over GWPS with a driven day. We could only take shots when they were safe, but I added three woodcock to the bag this way.
No guarantee of success
One bird in particular stands out as a particularly magical moment. The GWP had frozen himself into a classic point in a patch of icy white grass. I walked up behind him, with a low sun shining through the birches above us. The suspense was thrilling, and the sound of distant gunshots from out in the waiting line of Guns only added to the moment.
It seems amazing how secretive woodcock can be in these circumstances. It’s one thing to overlook a bird that’s lying completely still at your feet, but it’s exceptional to realise they can slip away through even quite open habitats as if they were completely invisible. While a good point is exciting enough, it’s certainly no guarantee of success. Plus, you can be sure that wherever the bird flushes, it will always go on to do something you hadn’t foreseen. It might even flush towards you, or suddenly rush away at an angle.
When this woodcock flushed, it rose from behind a birch stump. It was no more than 15ft away from me, and I could see every detail of its beautiful plumage. I saw fragments of frost fall from its wings; I saw the little feet being raised like the landing gear of a departing aeroplane. By the time my shotgun came up to my shoulder, the woodcock was 40 yards away and going strong. The shot span the bird into the grass and my labrador ran forward for the retrieve.
He dropped the bird into the palm of my hand where it lay, crisp and beautiful. I don’t think that I’ve ever experienced a better shooting moment.
Justifying the sport
We’ll shoot this place again in January, but it’s interesting to note that some local Guns are starting to lose interest in shooting woodcock. Negative publicity about woodcock shooting has been noisy, and it’s not always easy to justify the sport. Many of us understand that most of the birds that are shot each year are migrants from Russia or Scandinavia. Those migrants are doing fine, and concern about woodcock largely relates to the fact that birds which breed in this country are not doing well. I make a clear distinction between ‘our’ birds and ‘eastern’ birds — I’m satisfied what we’re doing is sustainable, but I can also agree simplified narratives lead to bad publicity for shooting.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen woodcock shooting criticised on social media because the birds are endangered here. You could say that social media is no place for informed debate, but I do find it difficult to counter such a simple accusation when the truth requires a fair measure of nuance. That’s not to say we shouldn’t try to unpack the details and defend our actions, but it’s important to acknowledge that many of these discussions take place on forums which prefer a simple black-and-white answer — even when that’s impossible.
The compromise is to change the opening of the woodcock shooting season until December. That would give time for the migrant birds to arrive and for our own vulnerable birds to leave. I don’t think this would cause any harm, as woodcock are generally quite scarce until that time. I tend not to see the birds on shoot days until late November, and a legal change would simply focus the shooting season on the period where they are actually being shot.
Work for consensus
I can’t help but think that shooting organisations should work for some consensus in this direction. It’s a tough message to sell, but the status quo is really not working for us. Rather than compromise, there has been a tendency for shooting organisations to double down and refuse dialogue; even the smallest
“When the woodcock flushed, I could see every detail of its beautiful plumage”
change is treated as if it were the thin end of the wedge. By moving the woodcock season to the start of December, our community has a chance to prove we understand the birds and the problems they face; that we’re doing our best to protect them.
Changing the season is a chance to be proactive; to lead the discussion and engage with an international drive to conserve the birds we all love. Woodcock are such an important part of my shooting year that if they were removed from the quarry list, I’d seriously think twice about renewing my certificate.