The Perfect Storm

A rough, open-water sea duck hunt in Chesapeake Bay proves to be an action packed adventure

- Will Brantley

A SPRAY OF 35-degree salt water hits me in the face every three seconds. That’s about the time it takes for Wayne Radcliffe to climb a wave, drop into a trough, and begin the next ascent. He feathers the outboard throttle and quarters the bow as needed, never too much. The guy knows the water, and for the most part, he keeps us dry. But the Chesapeake Bay is choppy today, even for Radcliffe’s big center-console fiberglass boat. “Don’t worry, guys,” he says. “If it was too rough, we wouldn’t be out here.” A rogue wave breaks across the bow and rains upon a pile of scoter decoys. Radcliffe laughs nervously. “It’s almost too rough.”

But this is sea ducking, and getting out here has long been on my bucket list. I love boats, big water, longline decoys, and divers that come in low and fast. The best hunting for species like scoters and long-tailed ducks—the politically correct name for oldsquaws, which is still used by sea duck hunters—takes place a mile or more from shore. Running that far in winter, then settling into a layout boat for the hunt, is dangerous. Yesterday, the wind blew too hard to risk going out, and the forecast is the same for tomorrow. Today is our only chance on a three-day trip, and given how rough the Chesapeake is under a 12-mph north wind, I can see why.

HISTORY LESSON