Paradise Lost

Making your way across the marsh for an evening flight, knowing it will be the last, is bittersweet but it sends a vital message.

- Graham Downing

Twice in the 45-year span of my wild fowling career I have had the bittersweet experience of taking the final shot on a marsh that was destined to be lost to the sport forever. On 20 February 2008 I parked my Land Rover close to Aldeburgh fire station and made my way on foot out across the Town marshes to the broad expanse of the Alde estuary. I walked in the evening light towards a favourite little spit of salt marsh jutting out into the river known as Westrow Point.

A long association between my club, the Alde & Ore Wildfowlers Association, and Westrow saltings was about to come to an end. The saltings and the adjoining fresh marsh behind the river wall had already changed hands. While the new owner had made it perfectly clear that he would no longer be leasing the sporting rights, he was prepared to allow us to see out the 2008 season to its close. This was to be the final flight.

With my fowling bag over my shoulder and my Labradors, Wigeon and Pintail, trotting at heel, I scanned the edge of the tideline where the water rippled under a light westerly breeze and spotted the unmistakable silhouettes of a group of wigeon. Sitting both dogs under the shelter of the river wall, I moved as quietly as I could down on to Westrow saltings, creeping along the line of a narrow creek to stalk within range of the birds.

Sometimes creek-crawling works and sometimes it doesn’t but on this occasion I got to within 50 yards before the little group sprang. I swung on to them and a cock wigeon tumbled into the edge of the tide, to be quickly retrieved by the dogs.