Destination Mystic Marsh

By C.C. McCotter

I wish there was one day of the duck season when you could hunt 10 minutes
prior to legal shooting. You¹d have to choose the day prior to the hunt, but
you could have one where you could fire 10 minutes before the normal legal
moment.

Recently, I had cause to wish for my 10 minutes. In early January I had
traveled to Gloucester County where I was the guest of Tim and Corey Aikens.
They own and manage a bit of waterfowling paradise known as Mystic Marsh
located just below Beaver Dam Swamp Reservoir.

I came with my father and four other hunters on a Woods & Waters
Adventure trip for a morning duck hunt with Tim, his son Ryan and his friend
Zack. Each would guide two of our party.

I first heard about Mystic Marsh when a friend at Green Top Sporting
Goods gave me Aiken¹s card and asked if I¹d heard of it. I hadn¹t, but it
sounded interesting and I called Aiken to find out more.
What I learned intrigued me further. Aiken owns 25 acres of ground behind
Beaverdam Swamp Reservoir where water flows out of the dam and eventually
into the York River. The acreage he hunts is mostly a swamp, freshwater, not
tidal like the name marsh implies.

Access to his three blinds and bench scattered throughout the swamp is
via a process akin to ³walking the plank² of pirate lore. There are
actually two 4² wide planks set parallel on top of posts that create board
walks from the high ground to the shooting stations.

What makes Mystic Marsh so special is that the water actually flows
through the drainage, even during periods of extreme cold. This is good
because ducks don¹t like standing on ice.
The day we visited Mystic Marsh was at the end of the extreme cold spell
we had at the beginning of January. The high at 2 pm would be nearly 40
degrees, though the three previous days it barely broke freezing and our
morning started out at 28.

Dad and I came in the night before, stayed at the Gloucester Comfort Inn
and ate at Crystal¹s Café. I definitely would do that again. Both were fine
establishments that appreciated our visit. I recommend the oysters and an
early bedtime.

I was grateful for the latter. At 5:10 in the morning, I was awaked by
someone tapping on my shoulder.

³Chris, it¹s time to get up,² I heard through the fog of a dream I was
having about hundreds of ducks darkening the sky.

Now, I don¹t know about you, but when I¹m on the road and have to get up
early for hunt I get both a wake-up call and set the alarm clock. The
wake-up call was to come at 5:15 am and the alarm was set for 5:16.
My father, however, was up, showered and clearly anxious enough to wake me
up like an eager youth with that insistent finger.

³Dad, rule number one when travelling with someone - do not wake them up
prior to the alarm unless it¹s an emergency,² I said with no small level of
irritability.

Needless to say, we were up and at the Aiken¹s on time; 5:45 am - about
an hour prior to legal shooting time.
Our party gathered in Tim¹s garage/workshop where you are judged more by
your camo than the vehicle you drive up in. There were decoys, waders,
various tools, guns, ammo and many more accoutrements of a waterfowl
outfitter.

There was Robert Taylor and his buddy, Jerry, who was in the catering
business. Both were serious waterfowlers that had traveled to a number of
notable hunting destinations. Rob Gentile was also back. I say back because
he also attended the hunt we took to Whistling Wings a few weeks ago. The
final hunter in our party was the quiet Mr. Jarosh. We all agreed he has a
wonderful wife. She bought him the trip.

Once we were tucked into gloves and jackets it was go time. In the predawn
frigid darkness, Tim led us into Mystic Marsh, his Labrador retrievers Marsh
Raider and Stalker of the Marsh accompanying us.

We walked silently in the dark following our guides as they split at the
various blind trailheads. Then it was time to navigate the boardwalks.
Picture nine men navigating these in the dark. Did I mention they were
frozen and slippery?

Amazingly, no one fell in and we did make it to our respective shooting
areas without a mishap. At our blind, Gentile and Jarosh went with Zach and
Tim down into the creek. They had worn chest waders and would hunt ³the
bench² in the middle of the marsh about 70 yards away.

As Dad and I made it to our blind we could hear spooked wood ducks flying
around us. Once he settled Gentile and Jarosh, Tim waded back to our blind
and then set several wood and black duck decoys. The final two decoys in the
set were Canada geese. Aiken also had a mechanical ³shaker² set up to make
constant ripples as well as a homemade version that quivered on a stake in
the water when Aiken pulled a string.

³Ok, guys we¹re gonna see a bunch of ducks soon,² Tim whispered with
audible anticipation when he took his place with us in the blind. I caught
what I was to learn is an ever-present gleam in his eyes before he shut off
his headlamp.

As we settled in to wait, Dad on the left, Tim and Stalker in the middle
and me on the right, I listened to the marsh, the eastern sky to my right
began to glow orange.

I could hear wood ducks whistling and mallards growling as they winged
their way from nighttime roosts. All around us the marsh was truly alive
with waterfowl.

Legal shooting commenced at 6:52 according to Aiken and he checked his
watch several times as that golden moment approached. As it did, the flights
of ducks grew to a frenzy as if they knew what lay ahead had they remained
aloft.

I¹ve been on duck hunts before, and I recalled that when the dawn comes
fast like a fanfare of trumpets, the hunting¹s not so good. It is best when
the wind blows, and the sky is gray or even full of moisture in the form of
fog or rain. This day was to dawn cold, but clear. The hunt would start fast
and end just as quickly.

Those final 10 minutes prior to legal shooting were tough. As I sat in
awe, we heard a bird light in our decoys and within seconds, lift off in
fright. Birds were zinging around the blind every few moments just about
everywhere you looked.

With under a minute to go by Tim¹s watch we heard two shots from Robert
and Jerry¹s blind about 75 yards in front of us. I couldn¹t tell if a bird
fell, though afterward we learned Jerry did take a hen wood duck.
At our station, I was startled twice by woodies that winged through so
fast you¹d need a computer-guided missile to track them.

Then I watched a flight of two wood ducks cup right over the bench and
hoped the boys had seen them. I had my answer a half tic later as someone
tracked the birds and drew on the second as it flared and headed for the
nearby York River. I watched as a follow-up shot found the duck and it
tumbled earthward.

I could go on and on about this hunt, but I just don¹t have room. I will
tell you with sincerity I had my chances. I managed to get into the action,
quickly firing my over-and-under Weatherby Olympian (more a trap gun than
duck gun) six times. I was 0-6 for my efforts.

Those darn ducks flew so fast they were about past me by the time I could
get my gun up. Dad never even raised his Browning Gold. I think he¹s slowed
a bit, but with more practice I think he could do it.

Aiken is a forgiving guide. He wasn¹t upset at my lack of connectivity. I
think Stalker was a little fed up with me, though. The big lab did get a
taste of duck when he and Tim fetched the beautiful drake woodie I had
watched Jarosh pepper.

My duck hunting experience prior to the Mystic Marsh visit was with
mallards on more open shooting venues. Aiken¹s blinds require split second
decisions, excellent wingshooting skills and well matched shooting pieces.
Afterward I realized I needed a visit to Green Top to remedy the latter
issue. I¹m waiting for a used 12 ga. Stoger Model 1000 with a 26² barrel.
By 10:15 the action was over for the morning and it was time for phase
two of the Mystic Marsh experience. We gathered our gear and headed over to
Aiken¹s home where his wife, Corey, had prepared us a fine southern brunch.
All six of us were treated like family, sharing Corey¹s creations in the
Aiken kitchen. The highlight of the meal was a marinated breast of wood duck
cut into bite-sized pieces alternated with forkfuls of egg and sausage
casserole.

We shared stories with the Aikens for another hour before it was time to
head home to our own families. I bid them farewell with a promise to return
next year.

In the truck on the way home, Dad said, "I liked that a lot. Do you think
we could go again before the end of the season?"
I mentally scanned my busy schedule of shows, deadlines and other
commitments and knew it would be tough.

"Dad, I sure would like to," I replied, thinking back to those magic 10
minutes before legal shooting hours in the Mystic Marsh, and forgiving him
for the finger poking at 5:10.

Trip Check
If you¹d like to try your hand at those fast flying Mystic Marsh ducks
you can contact Aiken at 757.810.5530 or visit his website at
www.mysticmarshwaterfowl.com . You¹ll have to wait now until the fall, but
consider making your booking soon as Aiken anticipates a full schedule. Do
consider bringing a semi-automatic 12 ga. that will fire 3² shells through
an improved cylinder choke. Interestingly, Aiken feels that facemasks are
not critical as his birds fly so fast and clear the trees within 20 yards of
the blinds. Chest waders are a good idea if you plan on hunting ³The Bench²
or if you¹d like to ensure a slip from the planks won¹t mean the end of your
hunt.