Shooting Times & Country Magazine
A community that is second to none
Jack Bell finds himself on the Severn Estuary, after an invite from a family friend highlights the generosity of the wildfowling fraternity
On the bank of the River Severn, Britain’s longest river, sits the worldrenowned Slimbridge Wetland Centre. The reserve was established in 1946 by Sir Peter Scott after he recorded the UK’S second lesser whitefronted goose on the Gloucestershire site. Later that same year, Scott founded the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust (WWT). The Slimbridge reserve is now the WWT’S flagship site, with another nine wetland reserves across the country.
Scott is considered one of the true pioneers of environmental conservation, not only for his work with the WWT, but as co-founder of the World Wildlife Fund and for his innovative use of television to bring wildlife to the masses; including when he presented the first-ever natural history programme live from his Slimbridge home in 1953.
Scott died in August 1989. His legacy is epitomised by his efforts to conserve the natural world, and it shadows his other achievements that include winning a bronze medal for sailing at the 1936 Olympic Games, becoming the British gliding champion in 1963, reaching national championship level in ice skating, designing the camouflage used by British World War II battleships and being a well-regarded artist. Individually these are all remarkable achievements, and in combination it is quite astonishing what he managed to accomplish in his 79 years.
These achievements and pastimes, although overshadowed by his conservation work, are not overlooked. However, Scott’s relationship with shooting has arguably been whitewashed by the very movement that he instigated.
Behind the trigger
As well as being a distinguished conservationist, Scott was an avid wildfowler. He penned two of the greatest books ever written on the pastime, he had an obsession for chasing geese and was regularly found behind the trigger of his puntgun. Without partaking in a bit of
investigation, you would struggle to find any reference to wildfowling or shooting in his modern biographies. When asked, most of today’s conservation organisations argue that Scott’s passion for wildfowling, shooting and punt-gunning was just a sign of the times, and even state that he started to turn his back on shooting in later life — which simply isn’t true.
Throughout his life, Scott had an appreciation for the wildfowlers’
“UK marshes are drastically different, with a wide variety of legal quarry species”
ability to understand the intricacies of the natural world, wildfowl and their movements. This is possibly best illustrated when Sir Peter Scott employed Josh Scott (no relation), the last professional puntgunner of Welney Wash, as the first reserve manager of WWT Welney in Cambridgeshire.
Josh, who was from a long line of ‘fen-men’, was open about the fact that punt-gunning had become unviable due to conservation agencies buying land that once supported the commercial harvesting of birds. Sir Peter approached Josh due to his excellent knowledge of the Wash and its birds, giving him a free rein to manage the reserve.
Back on the Severn, it seems only appropriate that the pastime of wildfowling continues. The Gloucestershire Wildfowling and Conservation Association (GWCA) was founded in 1956, and it has since grown into one of the largest wildfowling clubs in the UK. Its members have access to more than 30 linear miles of foreshore on the Upper Severn Estuary. I was invited to visit and shoot there by GWCA chairman Ian Whitehall. Ian, a family friend, is probably one of the best travelled and experienced wildfowlers in the UK, and there aren’t many marshes in the country that he hasn’t visited.
Ian, along with his son Stuart, has been making the well-known wildfowlers’ pilgrimage to the Solway Coast for many years, usually staying near the pinkfeet hotspots around the town of Annan. In more recent years, after a little coaxing, they have travelled further west and stayed with us in Galloway. These trips are always enjoyable and a great opportunity to catch up with friends who share a similar interest.
The fieldsports community is generous by nature, and this can bring many opportunities. UK marshes are drastically different, with a wide variety of legal quarry species available dependent on geographical location. Having a network of friends with a shared interest allows people to gain new experiences, knowledge and understanding, as well as explore new places.
Preparation
Sitting outside the GWCA foreshore cabin with a cup of tea gave a great opportunity to observe the conditions and pick a suitable time to venture out on to the mud. There is no excuse for bad timing when your digs are only 100m from the water. The cabin was our base for the trip — it’s a great facility for club members, and is complete with bunk beds, a logburner and, most importantly, a gas stove for cooking breakfast.
After packing up my gear, I had a short walk along the bank of the estuary to my position for the evening, on the edge of Brims Pill — ‘pill’ being derived from the old English word ‘pyll’, meaning inlet or creek. The remnants of coastal rock armour created a semi-natural hide with a flat, solid footing, while the estuary bank stopped me from being silhouetted against the open sky.
Light rain and thick cloud rolled down the estuary, creating variable levels of visibility, but the flashing beacons of the distant Severn Bridges were a constant as the light dropped.
The Severn Estuary has one of the largest tidal ranges in the world at roughly 13m, second only to the
Bay of Fundy in Canada. Having a good understanding of tides is key to wildfowling success and, of course, personal safety. Unlike most tides, the Severn does not slowly creep up; it rises at an alarming rate that is quite unnerving for a visitor.
I consequently spent most of my time watching the water — not for ducks but to try to gauge when I would be flooded out from my otherwise rather comfortable hideaway. I observed several fully grown trees wash by me, hurtling along at a number of knots out towards the Bristol Channel. Although the sheer power of the Severn tide is unsettling, there was still something quite therapeutic about just sitting and watching the moving water.
Time was now pushing on, with only another 40 minutes of shooting light left. The conditions were looking favourable, with sufficient water movement to make birds on the main estuary uncomfortable enough to look for calmer water, such as
“As I turned to look, two ducks hurtled past my shoulder”
ponds, creeks and small inlets. Six common cranes flew low over the estuary upstream of my position. They seemed close, but I’m sure it was deceptive in the failing light due to their enormous body size and 2.4m wingspan. It’s quite a privilege to see these birds, with only 31 breeding pairs and around 175 winter migrants in the UK.
Incoming
Suddenly I heard a shout — “Incoming!” — from further down the bank. As I turned to look, two ducks hurtled past my right shoulder, their white undersides and plump physique helping to identify them as wigeon. I was too slow to raise my gun as the pair of birds flew along the waterline. It looked as though my chance had gone, as they were now 200m out, but then they started to bank steeply left-handed.
I crouched to stop myself from becoming skylined; they obviously wanted to land in the creek where I was positioned. When the ducks came into range, I shouldered my gun and dropped the first bird with a single shot. The second wigeon immediately climbed, and I struggled to keep up with it. My attempt at a shot was well behind, and as I racked a third round into the chamber of my Winchester SXP pump-action, I had time to compose myself, hoping to make my final shot count. On pulling the trigger, the steel threes found their mark and the bird tumbled on to the far bank with a satisfying thud.
Blind retrieves
Although I was happy with my rightand-left at wigeon, the highlight of the evening was watching Ian handle his young Chesapeake Bay retriever across the creek to retrieve the birds. These were Storm’s first-ever retrieves out wildfowling and by no means an easy introduction. The first bird was just on the water’s edge, partially submerged, but the dog was quick to locate it and bring it back to hand.
It’s quite a feat sending an inexperienced dog out for a second blind water retrieve but Storm seemed unfazed, leaping into the water and powering across the channel, showing the real strength of the breed. I had failed to get a decent mark on the bird, but the dog worked the far bank with the wind in her face, soon locating the wigeon in a patch of long grass.
On the 300-mile trip home, I had time to reflect on my few days away. Wildfowling may be a solitary pastime, but it’s certainly not a lonely sport. Having a network of friends who share a similar interest gives a great opportunity to explore new places and gain new experiences.
The wildfowler appreciates that the skill is not in pulling the trigger but understanding the movements and intricacies of wild birds. Success, or a few birds in the gamebag, is therefore only gained by appreciating the finer details of the natural world, and I’m sure this is a sentiment that Sir Peter Scott not only understood but shared.