Rooster and the ducks

Roosters rarely, if ever, seek sanctuary in duck blinds, but if you’re a mallard flying over Crooked Creek, such a sight is something you are very likely to see.
Christopher “Rooster” Willis of Upper Pine Prairie says, “When I was in school, coach said I had my hair cut like a rooster.”
“They said I ran like a chicken, too,” he adds, laughing.
On a recent windy and overcast morning, Rooster, the hunter, was going to bat against his fellow fowl and feathered friends, the ducks, on Crooked Creek Lake.
After a short boat ride to the northeast corner of the lake, Willis arrives at his hunting spot and places his two motorized decoys amongst the already set spread of floating decoys.
The temperature is in the low 60s, and with the wind and slightly dark sky, it’s a good day to be in the blind.
“I really love those 20 degree mornings with a 40 degree high,” Willis says as he unloads his gun case and shell bag into the blind.
He continues, “I always kill before a cold or rain front. Lots of people say its been a bad season just because they don’t kill every day. I just think the season should open later, in January or February, when weather is colder.”
It’s Willis’ first year hunting the lake, and his third year as a deer hunting to duck hunting convert.
“I’ve always hunted, but this is my favorite kind of hunting,” Willis says as he uses the last few minutes before shooting time to apply his black camouflage face paint. “It’s better than deer hunting and better than squirrel hunting.
“You’re not sitting in a stand for 30 minutes waiting on a deer.”
Willis’ dedication to his fairly new passion — his other is co-ed softball — is as true as every duck hunter’s desire to bag a pintail — he sold his deer rifle to buy a shotgun.
“I’m either duck hunting or playing softball,” Willis says.
He continues, “My old boss got me hooked when he took me duck hunting for the first time.”
In addition to swapping his rifle for a 12 gauge, Willis also devoted himself to his new favorite pastime by learning to call ducks by watching Youtube videos.
Willis says he has killed each day he has hunted at the lake this season, and the lake is his favorite place to duck hunt.
“I rarely don’t kill out here,” he says. “I always get at least one or two.”
“If you don’t kill out here, you can’t shoot,” he adds laughing.
Willis pours himself another cup of coffee from his thermos as the eastern horizon starts to glow.
“I usually get teal, ring necks, spoonbills and mallards here,” Willis said. “I prefer duck hunting in a lake, but I really don’t find it different than hunting in the rice fields.
“You’re just lower to the ground in a rice lake.”
He continues, “Come on ducky-duckies. That’s all we need now.”
Two shots from a nearby blind ring out. The game is on, and the ducks are on the move.
By 7:15 a.m., the first group of ducks begins to circle high above Willis’ blind. The hunter sinks down into the cover and begins to call. The group of about 10 birds drops low on Willis’ end of the blind, and he is up and firing his three shots, dropping two green-winged teal out of the group.
During the next 20 minutes, shotgun blasts from two nearby blinds indicate that a good number of birds are in the area.
“I’m hearing more shots than I did yesterday,” Willis says. “I was the only one who shot yesterday.”
“Some days it seems like there’s no birds. Other days you can’t get your gun reloaded quick enough.”
A short lull between flights leads to talk of hunting dogs and the Clemson Tigers defeating the Alabama Crimson Tide during the 2017 College Football Playoff National Championship Game. Willis shares that in only three years of duck hunting, he already has several birds mounted, including a mallard hen and a drake and a pintail.
Out of nowhere, a group of ducks comes roaring over the back of the blind making a bee line to the northernmost corner of the lake.
“Where did those come from?” Willis asks, laughing.
‘I love that sound though — the flapping of the wings,” he adds.
After a few quiet minutes of action in the air, Willis boards his boat to zip out and get his two teal before they drift out of sight. In a typical, luck-would-have-it moment, the minute Willis’ bottom hits the boat seat, all hell breaks loose — 20 ducks are heading right for the front of the blind, wings cupped and feet down. The two other hunters in the blind drop down for their guns, but by the time they pop up, the birds are showing nothing but tail feathers.
“They were trying to get out of here before they got their butts busted,” Willis says, laughing as he steps back into the blind for a moment before getting back into the boat.”
Willis is back in the blind with his two teal in a few minutes, and he returns his eyes to the sky.
During the next 20 minutes, Willis calls to three or four high groups of ducks, including some pintails, but none of them even drop low enough to give the decoy spread a good, earnest look.
“You can have four ducks flying over you, and if only one is committed to coming down, they will all fly off,” Willis says, laughing. “I’ve never seen it any different.
“Or you can have some working, coming, and they will leave with a high group. You can call all you want, but they are gone.”
Even though it was a slow day, the Rooster was still going home with more feathers than he had started with.