Small touches that make a shoot day
What are the hallmarks of a perfect driven day? Is it bag size, a shoot lunch or including the dog that allow you to hit the mark as host?
Is it a first-class lunch or being able to take your own dog? Adrian Dangar finds out what makes the day special
During a day’s rough shooting last season, I asked my companion for advice on the small touches that combine to make a driven day special. I was expecting something unusual from the owner of a well-regarded sporting agency, but his response as we sheltered from driving snow behind a drystone wall surprised me. Or perhaps it didn’t, for the corporate shoots that are the bread and butter of his livelihood are the opposite end of the spectrum to the less formal, friends and family orientated ‘Fieldy’ days at the heart of this feature. Such occasions are often heralded by the arrival of a handwritten invitation in summer, where the host signs off with those most welcome words, “Do bring your dog along, too.”
If encouraging dogs to join the party is the first step to making a day special, the next is to give everyone a game card populated with a list of the other Guns’ full names and titles (preferably along with a bacon bap and coffee) at the start of the day. If, like me, you find it easier to remember the names of dogs than their human owners, the benefits of such a crib sheet are immeasurable; some shoots provide this by inviting Guns to draw pegs via numbered game cards instead of selecting conventional markers from a leather wallet.
Next up is the host’s introductory brief and an opportunity to highlight what is on and off the menu, along with anything else considered to be important; there might, for example, be a public footpath close to the second drive or a garden where the owners don’t appreciate the sudden arrival of dead game. “If you must give a talk at the start of the day, keep it brief and to the point,” advises a West Country shoot owner, who recognises the importance of a few well-chosen words but admits to “a deep loathing of anything with a whiff of health and safety”. Field readers will be familiar with A Father’s Advice, which covers all aspects of shooting safely in seven verses, but unless briefed accordingly, may not know if woodcock and ground game are legitimate quarry. A big ‘Yes’ to the former is always welcome from November onwards, but a resounding ‘No’, please, to the latter, especially the offensive practice of gunning down a fox in front of those who remember the days when he was a revered quarry species rather than common vermin.
BUS BANTER
Transporting Guns between drives in a single, large waggon has many advantages, including reducing the impact of vehicles on tender land at the wettest time of year, but as a Yorkshire landowner points out, “the camaraderie engendered by using a shoot bus is counterproductive if you don’t have a clue where you are going”. Travelling through glorious countryside without being able to admire the view is torture for those
who yearn for a glimpse of the landscape through which they are passing. “You may as well be led to your peg blindfolded,” is how another gun put it. So, let’s have transport with huge, clean windows through which the occupants can absorb the view, for the setting and scenery are keys factors in the enjoyment of all fieldsports.
The difference between commercial and private shoots is often the latter’s ability to make the day truly magical, special and unique, without relying on indulgent pit stops and tacky props, such as the dubious sloegasm. A quick tot and a hot sausage are all that’s required to hit the elevenses spot; anything longer can feel like a thinly veiled ploy to buy time whilst beaters get organised for the following drive. On really good shoots there is never the impression of killing time, rather a sense of excitement commensurate with understated urgency. According to the owner of a small but spectacular northern shoot, the rarity factor also makes a difference. “There is a huge amount going for a sporting event that only happens a few times each season. As it’s an infrequent occurrence, our shoot is an exciting occasion for everyone involved, rather than something run of the mill that is repeated weekly throughout winter.”
These sentiments are echoed by James Townshend, who runs a superb shoot overlooking the Dorset coastline. “We don’t shoot that frequently, so each one is a unique and eagerly anticipated event during which we encourage the home team to engage with the Guns at every opportunity and vice-versa,” he says. “Everyone involved with every aspect of the day is important to us.”
The magic of any shoot is enhanced by many subtle details that combine to evoke a sense of anticipation and the unknown; that means no cackling radios, quiet beaters – who doesn’t prefer birdsong to human voices – and release pens concealed from view. Placing Guns individually rather than directing them to pegs imbues the day with excitement and by taking the wind, weather and seasons into account, contributes to a sense of fieldcraft that is often absent to all but the keenest
observers on a driven day. “Pegs are synonymous with lack of freedom,” pronounces Mr South West, who never asks Guns to stand anywhere puddled and worn by a previous occupant. He likens shoot days on his estate to a hunt for pheasants and instructs the home team to remain tight lipped about the merits of different drives and stands. “Running a good shoot is like staging a play, so warning guests what to expect in advance is a spoiler, on a par with revealing the plot. It should all be a wonderful surprise.”
According to Townshend, counting the number of shots is equally undesirable. “It’s not about ratios or who shoots better than anyone else – who cares a jot about that?” he says. “It’s about enjoying the camaraderie of a special day with close friends.”
DEMARCATION
Hopefully, the pickers-up will understand that Guns accompanied by a dog enjoy retrieving their own birds as much, if not more, than shooting them. Sadly, horror stories, such as Benoit Guerin’s experience as a guest on a Yorkshire shoot, surround this subject. After the picker-up behind him had hoovered up every bird the moment it hit the ground, Guerin asked him politely to leave some for his own dog to retrieve. “You do your job and I’ll do mine,” snarled the picker-up, jabbing his finger at my friend’s chest. Sometimes it pays to remember who is really running the day, and it’s not the pickers-up. Conversely, what a pleasure it
is to be greeted by a cheery smile and the assurance that at least some birds will be left for your dog to retrieve, even though its abilities may not compare favourably with field trial champions.
I was once invited to a shoot where we walked out of the house after breakfast and did not set foot in a vehicle for the rest of the day, which everyone agreed was a brilliant concept. “If I asked some of my paying teams to do that, I would be facing a mutiny,” muses sporting agent Julian Boddy, but paying and invited guests alike on Lord Bolton’s West Moor above Wensleydale must undertake a long, uphill trek on foot to reach the butts for a drive that is often the last before lunch. “It doesn’t do them any harm,” observes his Lordship. And so say all of us.
The great thing about a walk is that it engenders an appetite for (and appreciation of) lunch, which is a highlight of the day and an opportunity for banter and chat. The best reflect the seasons: an al fresco cold buffet on an August grouse moor; something hot and delicious for the depths of winter. “The trick is to offer good food but not too much of it,” says Townshend, whose lunches include spicy bloody Marys and oysters fresh from the nearby Fleet.
It has been suggested a superb lunch may compensate for moderate sport, but the perfect host aspires to excellence in both spheres. “Ours is not a top-draw shoot,” confides the northern landowner, “so we encourage partners, spouses and children to join us in a key part of the day’s pleasure. It’s astonishing how many thank you letters refer more to the lunch than the sport.” Just as good field masters command their charges on the hunting field with quiet and understated authority, so the best shooting hosts have the knack of getting Guns back to the fray without ever making them feel rushed.
At the end of the day, I’ve known guests hanging around in the gloaming for what felt like an eternity before the head-keeper arrived with a present of game – the most conscientious will also remember to offer a snipe, woodcock or teal to anyone who has been fortunate enough to shoot one. If this finale must take place in the cold halflight of a winter’s evening, let it be prompt, but how much better to meet and thank the man who has made it all happen over a cup of tea in the kitchen, where a considerate host will happily offer discrete advice to anyone unsure of how to reward him. Field readers will know the form about tipping, but the witty riposte from a former cabinet minister when asked to part with an exorbitant sum has been doing the rounds at shoot lunches for years now.
Whatever the sum, a tip should be delivered personally together with some thoughtful complements on the day. I once attended an October partridge shoot where, to a man, the Guns dropped their plus fours in warm sunshine after the final drive, pulled on designer jeans and stuffed a wad of notes into the bewildered agent’s hand before roaring off in a convoy of 4x4s. Such behaviour is unlikely to get you invited back to a private shoot. However, good manners and appreciation of the effort that has gone into creating a special day probably will. Small touches such as thanking beaters, picking up cartridges and marking your birds cost nothing but are appreciated. Guests should have the grace to stay for tea, the sense to know when to leave and the decency to accept game with enthusiasm and gratitude. It only remains to send a prompt and insightful handwritten letter of thanks for a day that has been the product of so much careful planning, preparation and thought.
It’s astonishing how many thank you letters refer more to the lunch than the sport