Having already hosted the first leg of the exchange scheme in Scotland earlier in the season, Tony Conroy and I arrived at Charlotte airport in December 1995 after an eventful journey. Our flight from Edinburgh to Gatwick had been diverted to Heathrow due to fog and we had to race by transfer bus to catch our plane to the USA. We made it - but our luggage and shotguns did not! Not to worry. We borrowed 20-bores for the first afternoon's quail hunt and our own guns arrived in time for the evening duck flight.

That first day's shooting was provided by Bob Stuck who was initiating a mallard release programme using wild-stock ducks brought down from Wisconsin. For many years mallard had been in short supply in the southern states and a scientifically monitored release programme was seen as the only solution. (As a footnote, five years later, it is interesting to see just how successful this programme has been. Indeed, the Wisconsin mallard rearing operation has now been moved down to South Carolina.)

Because of an odd American rule that all duck shooting must be finished half an hour after sunset, we had the unaccustomed experience of decoying mallard into the marshes in daylight. Frankly, the ducks did not seem to mind and we had great sport despite having to pack up just about the time that we would have been starting at home. Most of the ducks on this shoot were mallard but Tony achieved the distinction of shooting a wood duck that afternoon.

That night we travelled with David Wielicki down to the SCWA Centre and what an incredibly impressive place it is. The achievements of the SCWA really put the efforts of shooting and conservation organisations in the UK to shame. Hundreds of acres of former clay mines had been restored to provide a very wide range of wetlands habitat and a conference centre with residential accommodation had been provided on a grand scale.

Here we experienced many of the features of American waterfowling that really differentiate it from British wildfowling. Hides (or blinds as the Americans call them) are constructed with a great deal of care, large decoy spreads are commonplace and fowlers have really worked hard to perfect their duck-calling skills. And, of course, such dedication and careful preparation really pay off. With goodness-knows how many million duck hunters in the USA, hunting pressure in some areas is heavy and the ducks become far wilder and warier than we find on the coastal marshes of Britain. If I had previously put the obsession with calls and decoys in the US down to affectation, I now had to revise that opinion. Without such finely-tuned skills, the American waterfowler would go home with an empty bag.

The shoot at the waterfowl centre was one of a series of regular events planned for members. The following morning, however, we experienced something more akin to British wildfowling. One of the association's biologists took us out for a dawn flight on Lake Marion. This is a very large freshwater lake that, for the most part, is only a few feet deep. There is a lot of flooded timber around the margins and a huge number of reed banks, both at the edges and in the middle.

Finding cover was no problem at all. We simply jumped out the john-boat at a likely looking clump of reeds and waited for the flight to begin. Once again it was Tony who got the less common specie - a gadwall this time.

The remainder of our week was spent visiting the private shoots of a number of SCWA members. Those that really stick in the memory are the duck shoots of Johnny Evans and Al Bullington - the latter being the farm on which I shot my first whitetailed deer. For sheer cussedness, however, the prize must go to the shoot run by Jimmy Hills on a reclaimed rice plantation not very far from the Santee Delta.

Jimmy's cabin is, in itself, an amazing place. A tattered Confederate flag adorns the veranda - along with a huge quantity of duck decoys and buck racks. Jimmy is one of the prime movers of the SCWA wood duck nesting box programme and his plantation is a perfect example of wood duck territory. It was, therefore, with keen anticipation that we prepared for a morning flight out on his marsh.

Tony and I were given careful instructions about where to find cover on the marsh (we were assured that the alligators would be hibernating!) and told that we must not shoot before the official time of 30 minutes before sunrise. Having found our places, we waited for the appointed hour. As we stood, up to our waists in South Carolinian marsh, the wood duck simply poured our from the flooded timber surrounding our positions. For perhaps 20 minutes there was a constant stream of ducks passing over our heads within easy range.

Then, exactly 90 seconds before shooting time, the flow stopped. Tony and I confirmed with each other that the critical moment had arrived - but despite waiting in place for another half hour, not a single wood duck came by. Jimmy's only explanation was that the ducks had invested in some new quartz watches and that the game warden had educated them about shooting times!

The only wildfowling that I had previously done in North America was with Tom Kennedy in Nova Scotia and that had been essentially similar to the type of shooting we do in Scotland. This experience in South Carolina, in contrast, was totally different in almost every respect. The novelty of the sport and the warmth of our hosts made it a week that will never be forgotten.

At Home in Scotland

Delta Marsh, Manitoba, 1996, 1997, 1998

Cumberland Marsh, Saskatchewan, 1999