SNIPE The Snipe season began here in Florida on November 1st. Those throaty little zig zag flyers are now legal to shoot, Nov 1st through February 15th. If you never got past the Boy Scout pan banging version of snipe hunting, then you have missed one of the fastest game birds in the world. Tom wrote about snipe hunting in his 2000 book, A Year Outside. The book is out of print as a single, but is available in the Tom Kelly Collectors Edition. Here is chapter 12 from A Year Outside, Snipe, for the enjoyment of TENTH LEGION members. Chapter Twelve Snipe Yes Virginia, there is such a bird as a Snipe, but he, like Santa Claus, has been affected by the inherent skepticism of a skeptical age. If you happen to mention Snipe at a cocktail party, the very word itself creates raised eyebrows and elicits the comment from fully half of the assembled drinkers-who are busily discussing either recent divorces or income tax evasion-that they were once asked to go on a Snipe hunt and assigned to carry the light and hold the sack. This happened back during their callow and ignorant years when they had also been sent to the supply room to get shelf wideners or bore stretchers, or 100 feet of Orienting line. If you call up Snipe on the web you will get some information about a specific class of sailboat, an advertisement offering to sell you a book of instructions on snipe hunting along with a sack to put the snipe in, and some information on a rock music group. The non-existence of Snipe, in our time, has become one of societys unkillable myths. One of those things that most everyone either does not believe in, regardless of evidence, or gets wrong, or uses improperly. Like the word shrapnel, for example. A hundred and ten percent of the reporters in America use the word shrapnel to describe the jagged fragments of steel that are produced as the shell casing is shattered when an HE Artillery projectile is detonated. Shrapnel is the proper name of a shell itself, like High Explosive or Illuminating. It is no longer made or used, but it contained dozens of little lead balls of about .60 caliber, that were thrown in all directions when the Shrapnel shell was detonated. It was named for its inventor, General H. Shrapnel of the British Army, and was designed to be exploded in the air above enemy positions. It was called for, by name, in the fire request. It was, in its time, the modern equivalent of what had formerly been called Canister. Shell fragments are not shrapnel, but there is no power on earth that can keep the word from being used in that context. The use of the word Shrapnel ranks right in there with the new wives tale that DDT in the food chain thinned the egg shells of Bald Eagles and that only when it was banned did the Eagle population revive. There is no single shred of supporting evidence for that statement but it is used daily, will be printed in some newspaper or other on the Last Day, and has been responsible for the expenditure of several thousand gallons of ink. Snipe, for some reason, are believed to be mythical creatures, like Unicorns or Elves, and every cultivated and intelligent person already knows that. It so happens that I have a mounted Snipe in a glass case on display at home. I have taken dozens of people into the den to see this creature and, almost invariably, such a viewing opens up conversations along the following lines: Isnt that the same thing as a Woodcock? Or, Thats the same bird I see at the beach, running back and forth along the edge of the surf, pecking in the sand. Or, there were thirty or forty of those on that mud flat at the mouth of Soldiers Creek last Tuesday at low tide. The results of a study made recently, that calculates a normal winter population of around six million Snipe in the marshes across the Gulf Coast are either unknown or ignored. Everyone knows that a Snipe is the mythical creature the young man kneeling at the edge of the field with the light, is trying to entice into the sack. The specimen in the glass case in my den, therefore, cannot be genuine. It has to be a composite creature, assembled by an unscrupulous taxidermist out of a collection of mixed body parts of various shorebirds, specifically designed to entrap the innocent and embarrass the gullible. As far as most of the world is concerned, if the query to the New York Sun in 1897 had concerned Snipe instead of Santa, the first line of Mr. Churches answer to Miss OHanlon would have been, Naw, Virginia, the whole thing is a crock of shit. But there is a Snipe, there really is. In point of fact there are 16 species of them. We have only one in North America, the one given the wholly unsuitable name of Common Snipe although there is the distinct possibility that it is a sub species, Wilsons Snipe. Snipe, in company with dozens of other creatures, are embroiled in one of the constant and continuing arguments over what is a species and what is a sub species. One group contends that Wilsons Snipe is a true species because it has two more tail feathers than the European Snipe. The counter group says this is not always true, but that the Common Snipe has outer tail feathers that are one millimeter wider than the comparable tail feathers of the Wilsons Snipe, which makes Wilsons the sub species. Such an argument ranks in importance right next to the spirited discussion that has been raging since 1324 A.D. as to how many angels can sit on the head of a pin with a comfort factor of .6687. Embrace either side of the argument that happens to float your boat but regardless of which side you take, it is just another example of the fact that the Snipe, almost surely the most numerous of all the shore birds, happens to be the very bird about which the fog of misinformation billows so thickly that his very existence is suspect. A reproduction of a Snipe, in flight, appears on the back of the Irish 50 pence piece. This, of course, proves nothing because as everyone knows the Irish are a strange and superstitious race who faithfully believe in Leprechauns. There is remarkably little written about Snipe and you hardly ever meet another person who hunts them, but then, you never meet another person who hunts Unicorns, either. The U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service lists Snipe as a game bird, opens the season on them between November 18th and February 28th, and sets the daily bag limit at 8. A matter which appears to be of as much interest to the average hunter as it would be if the Service had declared the diamond digging season to be open during that same time frame East of the Mississippi river and the daily pouch limit was two pounds. I personally find this lack of interest to be of no concern at all. I happen to be a member of that tiny group who hunted turkeys in the decade from 1945 to 1955 when, while there were almost no turkeys, there were almost no turkey hunters either. No hunter of my acquaintance then would tell another person where he had seen a turkey. In point of fact every hunter I knew, including myself, carefully stepped on and obliterated each turkey track he found in sandy spots in the road so that no one else could find it. In the Spring, when a turkey had gobbled one time, you cast your eyes to Heaven and prayed that he would shut up. You now knew where he was, silence would keep the matter a secret, and the last thing you wanted was the further dissemination of that knowledge. We are now approaching an inventory of 400,000 turkeys in this State and at last count there were over 50,000 turkeys hunters and I am not at all sure we are that much better off. From my own standpoint, the last thing I want to see happen with Snipe is what has happened with turkeys. If I thought it would happen I would never write about Snipe at all, except to discuss as learnedly as possible the candlepower requirement in a Snipe light and the size of the sack being held next to the hole in the fence. But the same thing that happened to turkeys cannot happen to Snipe because the terrain that Snipe inhabit is entirely too severe. There is no possibility of being able to drive along the road in a pickup truck and stop from time to time to listen for a Snipe to gobble. Snipe do not gobble in the first place and there are no roads available to let you drive along to listen for the gobbling even if they did. To the average lard assed hunter, who is out of breath after the 200 yard walk from the road to the shooting house across dry ground, a half mile through ankle deep mud has little attraction. This half mile walk through mixed ankle deep mud and water may possibly result in less than a dozen shots at a bird that weighs just under four ounces, and that with a lead fishing sinker in each pocket. A bird that gives no warning until he flushes at the outer edge of gunshot, and besides, a bird that flies as fast as a dove but with many more changes in direction. These conditions being present, which they are, make whatever minor degree of attraction there may have been to begin with unpalatable to the extent that it tends to vanish altogether. We will never get ass deep in Snipe hunters, like we sometimes get ass deep in turkey hunters, because it is just too much hard work. The game goes beyond being considered to be not worth the candle, a commonly held opinion is that it is not even worth the match that lit the candle. Without question, the most pronounced difference that is peculiar to Snipe hunting, the thing that sets it completely apart in the matter of degree of difficulty, is the bad footing. The footing is so bad that it not only makes it difficult to walk to the bird but completely changes the conditions under which you have to try to shoot him after you get there. Fredrick Oliver Robinson, Earl of Ripon, was born at Carlton Gardens, in England, in 1852. Between 1867 and 1923, a span of 56 years, he amassed a total game bag of 556,813 specimens, more than 364,000 of which were birds, all taken on the wing. Ripon was, almost surely, the best shot who ever lived. Born into an era of big shoots, wealthy, with a world of natural ability and an unparalleled opportunity to practice, he became and was recognized as the best shot in the British Empire. He is quoted as saying that he had been able to improve the shooting of several of his friends by as much as 25% by simply showing them how to stand. The opinions of a man who was considered the best shot in a society that shot as much as Edwardian England, and a man who shot more than 6000 birds a year for 56 years, is certainly worth our most respectful attention. If such an authority says footwork is important then it bloody well is important, and Ripon is not alone in this opinion. Any professional shooting instructor spends a lot of time on foot position, as does any batting coach, kicking instructor, and, for that matter, any dancing teacher. The vast majority of this concentration on the position of the feet becomes a moot point if the shot must be taken, the ball kicked or batted, and the dancing partner twirled, while the back foot is immobilized by being buried in the mud and the front foot is just beginning to sink as it comes in contact with the ground. Not only do Snipe give you the equivalent of 30 yard trap from a variety of surprise trap houses, but they give you the opportunity to shoot 30 yard, one-footed, off-balance trap most of the time. You operate in the state the English sporting world describes as wrong footed all the time. Walk up Snipe while you are traveling into the wind, making it unnecessary for the bird to turn since he is flying into the wind as soon as he clears the grass, and he will go off in a straight line at an altitude of 18 inches. By doing this you have expanded 30 yard trap into 40 yard trap without changing any of its other wrong footed characteristics. Most of those charts that propose to instruct the purchaser of ammunition as to the proper choice of choke and shot sizes for the various game, generally give advice in the right direction. That is, they give it until you come to the line that recommends Snipe be shot with light loads, fine shot, and open chokes. I find no fault with the shot size and powder charge, but one day this summer, at about the time you begin to warm up your swing and get your timing in shape for the dove season, make the following experiment. Measure off a distance of 45 yards from the patterning board and fire a half dozen rounds of an ounce of 8s from the Improved Cylinder barrel. You are going to be totally displeased with the Snipe sized holes you see between shot marks on the paper when you go down to the butts to take a look. Some of the gaps you are going to find would let Bantam Roosters pass through the pattern, let along 4 ounce Snipe. J. J. Pringle, the man who shot more than 69,000 Snipe in south Louisiana between 1867 and 1887 may have been one of the premier game hogs of all time. But game hogs, as a friend of mine is fond of quoting, may be reprehensible characters but they generally have their techniques down pretty well. Pringle shot snipe with full choke guns. He came to this conclusion because nothing but full choke tubes are going to give you a pattern free of Snipe sized holes at 45 yards. Because some snipe do not arise at 30 yards, but with the innate capriciousness of many game birds sometimes arise at a range of six feet, after you have passed them, or fly off and circle back overhead at a range of 10 yards, full choke tubes can force you to sometimes wait birds out. Either wait them out to reasonable range or accept the unfortunate options of clean misses on one hand or Snipe soup on the other. It is for this reason that the old fashioned, two-trigger double can sometimes be an advantage. My fifty year old, Model 24 came with the normal two trigger conformation of 1947 and the ability to select another choke, instantaneously, is often a help. I occasionally pay a price for having the left barrel bored Modified instead of Full but the gun was not bought specifically for Snipe, its present exclusive use, and I never saw a double that was bored Full and Improved Cylinder. Somebody, somewhere, probably would put together either a side by side double with two triggers and screw in chokes, or make an over and under with two triggers and screw in chokes. But God knows how many personal visits it would take to convince the gunsmith that the requirement was not some sort of typographical error. I have made a personal modification in footwear. Hip boots, even the ankle fitting kind, are really not designed for long distance walking. Neither are they designed for situations requiring agility. They are designed to keep the legs and feet dry, not nimble. There is a job in logging crews that requires agility above all other qualities and this is the profession known as hook chasing. I have turned there for help. A hook chaser is the man who puts the cable around the logs to be skidded, out at the stump of the cut down tree, or the man who takes the cables-with hooks attached-off the logs when they get to the landing. Hook chasers, especially in helicopter logging operations, are not workmen. They are athletes. Hook chasers on hardwood logging crews, in wet terrain in the winter time, are still required to achieve the same degree of mobility they do in dry weather. Working conditions there can be rendered far more comfortable if agility can be achieved with at least a degree of warmth. It is for these reasons that hook chasers, especially those working in extremely muddy conditions, have developed a field expedient. They wear a pair of 8 inch, L. L. Bean Maine Hunting shoes. Then, over their regular pants, they wear the bottom of a conventional rain suit. The pant legs of the rain suit are duct taped to the top of the boots. The rig is not snag proof, naturally, does not last nearly as long as a pair of high quality hip boots, and tends to make you look as if you came from the wrong side of the tracks. But it is waterproof, until you snag the pants, and nothing else can touch it for light weight and ease of movement. You want pretty, you should hang around the camp house in your Harris tweeds and look trendy over a glass of Bourbon. You want agility, and a degree of freedom to move your feet quickly in the mud, dress like a hook chaser. Pretty is as pretty walks. Few of us are lithe and lissome enough to be mistaken for hook chasers anyway, but very little harm would be inflicted upon our reputations, even if we were. There has been a remarkable amount of garbage written about the flight patterns of Snipe, much of it I suspect, written by people who have seen very little of such flight. These guys appear to be re-writing what they have read. There are entire pages written about the early twisting flight of Snipe, the eventual settling down to a straight path, and learned discussions as to whether one is better off shooting quick, at the initial flush, or waiting until the bird has straightened out his flight. I cannot say that I have seen all that much of such behavior myself. Many Snipe get up and move out smartly, only a foot or so above the grass and on a straight line from the beginning. Snipe turning into the wind to help them rise, seem to get up quicker and the turn makes it appear as if they are specifically jinking to confuse the gunner. I believe they are seeking altitude rather than confusion by this maneuver. If there is a decent rule of thumb it is that there are more low ones than there are high ones, unless the birds have been driven, and in my judgment the quicker the shot is taken, the better. Thirty yard trap, shot off balance and with one foot immobilized, does not allow much time to wave to friends in the gallery after the bird gets up. Standing there, posed for the photographer, waiting for those early quick moves to settle down into straight flight, is giving away yards and yards of range that you did not have all that much of to begin with. You can, of course, equip yourself for long ranges but unless you are a magnificent physical specimen, a full choked ten gauge trap gun, deadly at sixty yards, is going to get dreadfully heavy during the course of the morning. One final reference to the ultimate authority. Ripon died in 1923 with his boots on and gun in hand. The last bird he shot at was a Snipe and it was the last bird he ever killed. The final entry in his game book reads as follows, At the last drive Lord Ripon killed 51 grouse and 1 Snipe. At 3:15 P. M. while the last birds were being brought in, he fell down dead. He missed the Snipe with his first two shots and killed it with the first shot from his second gun. There is a six week season, after almost everything else has closed, that is there and available. To take advantage of it you will be required to travel by foot over terrain that can best be described as unfortunate and from time to time throw shots at the ass end of a small, departing bird. Many of these shots will be thrown from positions you would normally expect to achieve only in mid air, while you were falling out of a tree. It is snap shooting with the loudest of possible snaps. Even if you have been killing a limit of doves out of a box of shells ever since Franklin Roosevelt was President of these United States, you should expect your average to suffer. If you shoot that well you need a touch of humility to bring you back down to earth anyway. One of our mid western poets once said that a dog needs a certain number of fleas to remind him he is still a dog. If your average falls to one out of three, or worse, contemplate Ripons farewell performance and take heart. If the best shot who ever lived closed his career with one out of three on Snipe, why should we ordinary mortals presume to complain? Even at that level we are in far classier company than most of us deserve. Tom Kelly, 2000 While researching Snipe last night, we came across the Audubon link to Snipe. birds.audubon.org/birds/wilsons-snipe Try the link and click on the sounds made by Snipe. I think you will be amazed at the different voices of this flighty little bird. One last Snipe note, they are very good to eat. They have a unique yellowish fat on the breast that adds to the rich flavor of the bird. Cook them just like doves, quail or chicken. A Year Outside is out of print as a single book, but it is available three other ways. 1. Tom Kellys Collectors Edition, (8 books in a leather bound, 4 volume, signed and numbered limited edition) $ 160.00 + $ 15.00 s&h 2. Audio CD read by Tom Kelly, $ 20.00 + $ 6.00 s&h 3. E-book on Kindle@amazon $ 9.99 tomkellyinc.net
Posted on: Fri, 07 Nov 2014 20:06:18 +0000