As I write this piece, it is early April in New Brunswick and the ice has begun to move out of the St. John River as it flows through Fredericton. I saw a pair of mallards in a woody bog off the river in the downtown area the other day, and five geese flew over the house this morning, presumably on their way to rest and feed on the islands upriver.

All of this reminds me that it is time to fulfill a commitment I made to a colleague to verbalize the concerns I have about what seems to me, at least, to be our declining duck populations in this part of Canada (and perhaps elsewhere), and to do so in a manner that can stimulate useful discussion from others who may or may not share the same view.

At the outset, I should declare that while I have a couple of university degrees in biology, my only formal education in waterfowl management came almost 40 years ago during an undergraduate wildlife biology course I took from the late Bruce S. Wright at the University of New Brunswick. I am also a duck hunter but one who has come to be more appreciative of the experience of duck hunting, rather than what used to be the thrill of shooting a limit of birds. By experience I mean the pleasure gained from the companionship of my hunting buddies sharing truths (and even occasionally less-than-truths) in the blind, setting a rig of decoys, watching the birds react to the decoys, making good shots, and working with my yellow Lab Rocket as he retrieves our birds. In recent years I seem to be able to get sufficient satisfaction from bagging only one or two birds each time I’m out. And guess what? Even if I come home with no birds, I’ve had a good time just enjoying the experience of it all.

My older friends seem to understand what I’m talking about. My younger friends smilingly suggest that perhaps it is more a function of my apparently advancing years.

However, I’m still left wondering if it really is the serenity that I am told comes with age, or is there something else that is fuelling my new-found pleasure in the overall experience of duck hunting? Not surprisingly, perhaps, I choose to believe it is indeed something else.

I believe that the something else is driven largely by the concern that I am not seeing the numbers of ducks that I used to 10, 20 or 30 years ago. My reading of some of the articles published in Maduck.org would suggest that perhaps I am not alone with my concerns. So what about all of this? As the title of the article perhaps naïvely suggests, I wonder why with all of our 21st Century science and technology, and the efforts on the part of governments and concerned groups of citizens, we are not making better progress towards increasing our duck populations. And if we are not making the necessary progress, then what is to be the ultimate fate of our duck populations? And of we, as duck hunters?

I’m sure that such questions will already have provoked some readers to exclaim that we are making good progress. But are we really making progress, or only trying to convince ourselves that we are?

As a member of Ducks Unlimited, I am impressed by the way the organization has grown in New Brunswick, as I am sure it has elsewhere. When I first joined some 20 years ago and was on the local Dinner Committee, there were only a few events in the Province. Now it seems that every town and village is involved in fund-raising events for the good of the ducks. And unquestionably, there have been tremendous successes in habitat development, conservation education and the host of other DU programs supported from the funds raised. But, when it comes to talking about sustained incremental increases in numbers of ducks, DU folks seem a little uncomfortable. Still with all of the habitat development in marshes, duck boxes along the river banks, and other work in this region, I would have expected to see more growth in numbers of ducks I see each fall.

I have some young friends who claim that there still are lots of ducks and that perhaps I’m not hunting in the right areas. There may well be some elements of truth to this. Nevertheless, I suspect that, in some instances at least, my friends are talking about localized congregations of ducks in late autumn when ice cover becomes an issue. I find it interesting that many of these late fall birds are not the black ducks of 20 years ago, but mallards which were quite rare here in those days. I’m sure that professional waterfowl managers understand this transition. As for duck hunters, many probably don’t really mind shooting mallards instead of black ducks. But what’s happening to the black ducks?

As a graduate student at UNB in the early 70’s I used to help my friend Dan McLaughlin ‘collect’ ducks for his PhD work on avian parasites. On many occasions during the season we would park at the edge of the highway near Jemseg and walk across the Grand Lake meadows to the edge of the lake to take in the evening shoot of black ducks coming in flights off the lake to feed and rest over night in nearby ponds. I should point out that the term ‘meadow’ is a bit of a misnomer since in fact it is a floating bog replete with all the proverbial ‘sink holes’ to be avoided, especially during the hour’s walk back to the car after dark. Nevertheless, the shooting was worth the treacherous trudge out and back. I vowed that when I could afford both the time and the vessel, one day I would have a boat that could endure the rigours of the temperamental weather along the shores of Grand Lake so that I could motor out to those favoured spots of so many years ago. Last year circumstances conspired such that both time and vessel were now at my disposal, and I eagerly looked forward, finally, to fulfilling my wish of 30 years ago. Or so I thought. When I related the story to one of my friends who regularly hunts that area, his response was “Oh, we haven’t seen those evening flights of black ducks for several years now”. Undeterred, I motored out to the area, set my decoy rig and, other than a few ring-necks and bluebills, saw few ducks, certainly no evening “flights of blacks.” Where have they gone, I asked?

It’s not just the big dabblers that seem to be missing. November 11th, Remembrance Day, used to be the unofficial start of “Whistler Season” in Fredericton, in that the 21-gun salute at the Cenotaph would raise the birds off the sanctuary between the downtown bridges. Flocks of golden-eyes could then be seen moving upriver where hunters on the tips of the islands waited anxiously to see if their decoys would draw the birds into shooting range. Other than one good season a few years ago, we haven’t seen the flocks of whistlers that once reigned supreme. Even that one good season was said to be a result of a hurricane that blew the birds off their intended flight path and into our area. This seems to make sense since there were also numbers of the newly monikered ‘long-tail ducks’ (old squaws) in the river as well. Normally, we only see these birds along the Bay of Fundy coastline.

I have no credentials that permit me to speak competently in waterfowl management matters, nor do I have any real expertise in fisheries management. However, my professional career has had more to do with fish than fowl, so I can’t help but look for potential parallels which might help me understand what’s happening with our waterfowl.

I’m sure many of you will recognize that Atlantic Canada was once famous for its cod fishery. In fact some of you may have even seen the television commercial describing how when John Cabot approached Newfoundland in 1497, he encountered schools of cod “thick enough to walk across.” I’m sure Cabot spins in his grave as he watches the Northern Cod Stock decline to virtual extinction. Where did they go? Can we get them back before it’s too late? The simple answers are that we netted them to exhaustion and that even after several years of a moratorium on fishing, there are no really encouraging signs the cod are likely to recover any time soon.

“Ah,” but you say, “that could never happen to our ducks!” Are you so sure it couldn’t? Are you sure that it isn’t already happening? For years the alarm bells were ringing for the northern cod but they went unanswered. There are many learned articles and solid research papers showing a gradual decline in catches, increases in effort applied, and declines in the mean sizes of fish harvested. Nevertheless, all of the discussions, pleadings, arguments, etc. seemed not to have resulted in early intervention to prevent this made-in-Canada disgraceful tragedy. The reasons for the decline are all academic now, be they over-fishing by domestic and/or foreign fishing fleets, global warming, or fish finding and harvesting capabilities that outstripped the resource’s ability to sustain and replenish itself. These are all hollow words to the people of the outport villages of Newfoundland whose centuries old way of life has now been virtually extinguished.

I’m somewhat mystified and disappointed by the strong adverse reaction displayed by some of my colleagues and others if anyone should have the temerity to suggest that hunting pressure could be a factor in the decline of waterfowl numbers. Clearly it’s heresy to suggest such a thing in many circles. The reason for the concern seems to be that it could lead to a much-dreaded decrease in the number of ducks that can be legally shot. “So let’s not talk about it in case someone in authority hears us and takes action to limit how many ducks we can legally kill!” Yes, I recognize that from a technical perspective the analogy between what happened to the Atlantic cod stock and what concerns me about waterfowl populations is tenuous at best, for all kinds of reasons. However, where the analogy seems to be robust, and where the concern comes from, is the fact that in both cases there was/is overwhelming pressure from special interest groups to continue the high harvest, despite what common sense seems to be saying. It is this abrogation of common sense that ruined the cod fishery. Are we certain that we have the necessary checks and balances in place to ensure that such a calamity could never happen to our waterfowl populations, or at least to some species? The comment by Howard Ellman1 suggesting we should consider holding a “requiem for the Atlantic Flyway” seems to be that all-too-familiar alarm bell ringing and, sadly, going unanswered. The decline in ducks may be more gradual and less dramatic than occurred in the northern cod stocks; nevertheless, it seems to these eyes that indeed we are on a downhill slope as pressure to maintain bag limits continues seemingly unabated.

If we weren’t able to solve the northern cod stock problem which was such a high profile resource upon which many thousands of people depended for a living, do you really believe that we can solve our recreational waterfowl hunting problem? The answer is simply that we must; and by “we” I mean that increasingly the responsibility will fall on us as duck-hunters, to do the right thing. Why? Simply because governments, for the foreseeable future at least, are no longer going to be able to afford the costs of adequately regulating the harvest.

Well what should we be doing? Conservation and hunter education programs sponsored by various public and private groups must be the answer in the longer term. Clearly course instructors must hammer home the message that it is the experience of hunting which is the real source of pleasure, and that profligate, wanton over-harvesting is the very antithesis of what good hunting should be about. Over the longer term we must instill in our youth that not only is it illegal to shoot over the limit, but it is also unethical, immoral and very certainly counter-productive to what we as responsible hunters are working towards in conserving our resource. Sure this is a tough assignment, but it is also a necessary one if, in the decades ahead, our successors are going to be able to pursue this special pastime which has become such an important part of many of our lives. I for one surely don’t want my children and grandchildren pointing their fingers at me and saying “it’s because of you and your ilk that we are no long able to enjoy the experience”.

I have great faith in the abilities of our youth to understand the situation and to do the right thing. However, too many of our next generation hunters are under the influence of their elders who I see as being less responsible. In general, too many of them seem to be more concerned about filling this year’s bag (repeatedly) rather than worrying about what image they should be projecting and what positive examples they should be setting for the next generation. And these fossilized attitudes may well secure a sad fate for duck hunting in the future, if allowed to continue unchecked.

Let’s suppose for a minute we can all agree that across North America we need to reduce the bag limit as a means of ensuring the sustainability of adequate breeding populations. Suppose we all agree to a bag limit reduction of one duck as a measure to help rebuild populations. In my case that would mean five instead of six ducks; is that really significant? I’ve heard the whining on this subject from some quarters to the effect that if the bag limit is reduced, hunters will stop hunting, and therefore no longer spend the huge amounts on all of the accoutrements that seem to define the “modern” duck hunter. I do not believe this. Whether they admit it or not, I think most duck hunters pursue the sport for the experience rather than for any perceived machismo attached to the number of ducks they kill in a season. I think in many cases such whining is more of a reflex response to some perceived regulatory injustice, rather than representing any thoughtful consideration of the realities we are facing.

Certainly, when the wild Atlantic salmon populations in New Brunswick’s rivers nose-dived to the point where adult salmon can only be fished on the ‘hook and release’ principle, there was no mass abandonment of the rivers. In fact with the right kinds of smart promotional efforts, fly-fishing is growing in popularity, here and elsewhere. So the precedent exists for we as duck hunters. And there is no reason to suggest that salmon fishermen are smarter than we are. When their backs were to the wall, they stepped up and got on with the job.

Nevertheless there clearly are some very powerful groups, even if they are in the minority, who continue to proselytize the belief that reductions in bag limits will have dire consequences on hunting and who seem to be able to attract followers. The question seems to be then, “How can we change such fiercely embedded attitudes?” If we are shooting too many ducks in some jurisdictions then it is absolutely critical the message to the hunters in those areas be structured in such a way that it dispels the mythical cause and effect relationship between reduced bag limits and the perceived ruination of duck hunting.

In terms of fisheries management, the mention of community-based management is certain to bring alive an otherwise snoozing audience of fishers and fisheries managers. It may also do so in a room full of duck hunters and waterfowl managers. Nevertheless, with dwindling resources available to public sector agencies, a reasonable alternative is for the private sector to step up to the plate. Here I am not suggesting that the public sector abandon its responsibilities; rather, I am suggesting that perhaps the large task associated with changing such deeply entrenched views could be shared with private sector groups who have the tools needed to do the job. There are probably lots of models for public-private sector partnerships and DU is probably as good as most. DU is already well known to duck hunters and thus has the “market penetration” and credibility required to lead on such an initiative. The specifics of any such program would clearly need considerable development, both in content and delivery mechanisms. In the case of DU which already focuses on education, perhaps we are talking about expanding their Green Wing program to include an “adult education module” which focuses on the benefits to be gained from reduced hunting pressure, especially in critical areas. Obviously, such a program would inevitably mean a long-term investment and would also mean general buy-in from a large number of jurisdictions regionally, nationally and internationally. And, yes it has been pointed out to me that there is a long history in North America concerning complex bureaucratic ‘turf wars’ being waged by the various government and non-government agencies representing Canada, the United States and Mexico all of whom contribute to the decision-making when it comes to determining how many ducks of each species we can shoot each season. Their intentions, I must believe are honourable and directed at what is best for the ducks and the citizenry they represent. But for all of that I’m still left with the uncomfortable feeling that we continue to fiddle while the issue is burning before our very eyes.

1 Ellman, “The Boiled Frog Syndrome,” Madduck.org, Jan.7, 2004.