Hunting in the Context of Conservation

This "punt gun" (photographed in July 1923), used in the United States to harvest ducks and geese into the 1920s, demonstrates how far conservation has come in the U.S. in 100 years
Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress

As we close out the first chapter of this year's waterfowl season on the marsh (teal season expired in Ohio tonight), I think it's worth dedicating a post to the general topic of hunting . . . and more pointedly, the topic of waterfowl hunting within the context of wetland conservation. [I'm taking a chance doing this late on a Sunday evening, as this is a topic that can quickly get controversial. Stick with me. I promise to add more of my personal commentary as the season progresses.]

At first blush, these two subjects -- hunting and conservation -- might seem diametrically opposed. Hunting undoubtedly serves as a flash point, conjuring debate relating to the ethical treatment of animals. "Why would you kill what you are trying to protect?" And while I would readily admit that there are those who pursue game merely as a sport with little regard for one's surroundings, there is a big distinction (in my mind, at least) between hunting and mere killing.

What began as a commercial pursuit to harvest food for the table
has evolved dramatically in the ~150 years since settlement in Ohio
Photo courtesy of York Museums Trust

In my mind, we owe the very existence to much of the wetland that remains on Lake Erie, the Great Lakes, and beyond to waterfowl hunting and waterfowl hunters. Like the native people before us, ducks and geese were first harvested on the Lake Erie shores (and elsewhere) based on a caloric need. That pursuit of course evolved with time, and in certain instances was reserved for those with a certain level of wealth and/or prestige.

Books can be and have been written about the history of waterfowling. But to me, at least as it relates to this specific project, the Bay View marshes would simply not exist if it were for the passion and dedication of specific individuals through the generations. And it is no coincidence that these individuals happen to all be duck hunting enthusiasts.

It all ties back to one of my favorite quotes of the modern environmental movement:

In the end we will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand; 

and we will understand only what we are taught. 

(Baba Dioum, 1968)

As I hope to portray in my writings here, duck hunting is much more than totting a shotgun into the cattails. It -- like most hunting pursuits -- is wrought with learning opportunities. It is experiential and often multi-generational. And when done with awareness and appreciation for all that surrounds the hunter, it can be conservation in the purest sense of the term.

One of last week's harvests

SIDE NOTE: Whether you choose to count yourself among the ranks as a waterfowler, you can support ducks, geese, and all related wetland conservation in Ohio by purchasing an Ohio Wetland Habitat Stamp each year. The $15 investment is a requirement for all duck hunters in the State, and coupled with the Federal Duck Stamp, helps duck hunters put some of their money where their mouth is.

POSTSCRIPT: Some of the punt guns like the ones shown here were known to harvest 75-100 birds in a single shot. Thankfully, techniques have become significantly more precise. We set property-specific rules for our hunters that are even more stringent than those established by our Federal and State governments. More on that later . . .

ONE FINAL POSTSCRIPT: Last Tuesday night, Roy and I enjoyed an impromptu teal hunt unlike any I've ever experienced. While humbled by dozens of passes at close range (for the first time in my life I went through an entire box of shells during one hunt!), I did manage to bag a handful of blue-wings.