Top 5 Mistakes Duck Hunters Make

After five decades of waterfowl hunting, I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes. While I can’t say I’ve made every possible misstep, I’ve certainly made enough. Here, I’m focusing on the errors that have cost me birds—not the incidents like tangling with barbed wire, misjudging beaver channels, or the time my Mossberg M500 took an unfortunate dive off the side of the boat (though that’s a story for another day).

The reality is that no matter how long we’ve been hunting, we all make mistakes. And as long as those mistakes don’t compromise safety, ethics, or respect—remember, we represent the hunting community to others—then it’s okay to make them.

With that in mind, here’s a rundown of some common mistakes duck hunters make, and more importantly, how to avoid them in the future. Or at least, how to make them less often.

Inadequate Concealment

Years ago, during an interview with a young man in the hunting industry, he summed up the secret to successful duck hunting perfectly: “You can have the most realistic decoy spread and call like a pro, but,” he said, “if you’re not hiding, you’re not shooting.”

Concealment, or the lack of it, is probably the number one reason hunters fail to bag ducks. Mallards, like most wild animals (except maybe porcupines), have sharp vision. They’re intimately familiar with their surroundings and will quickly pick out anything that looks out of place or unnatural—and often, that’s you.

So, what do I do? I build my hide first and then set out the decoys. Throughout the hunt, I constantly check my blind. Does it need more stubble? Less? Can I take advantage of natural shadows using a portable layout or panel blind to blend in better? Is the sun behind me? Do I have overhead cover that doesn’t create a dark, unnatural “black hole”? If I’m cutting brush for a permanent blind, I make sure to cut twice as much as needed and store the extra behind the blind so it can weather and blend in naturally over time. That way, I’m not mixing fresh green brush with brown stubble and expecting it to look natural.

No Motion in the Decoy Spread

I’ve heard many call motionless decoys “frozen soldiers” and “plastic statues.” Ducks move, geese move—so if your decoys just sit there like marbles on glassy water, they’re not fooling anyone.

Adding motion to your decoy spread is essential, and thankfully, it’s not hard to do. If you’re into electronics—spinning-wing decoys (SWDs), pulsators, bubblers, swimmers, splashers, or anything similar—and they’re legal, by all means, use them. If you’re like me and prefer to avoid the hassle of batteries, the good old jerk cord is a reliable option. I use a modified Rig ‘Em Right jerk cord with two small, lightweight water keel green-wing teal decoys for a natural, bouncy movement. Or, you can always make your own. Either way, I never hunt without one. The same goes for a traditional black flag in a goose spread. Just something—anything—to create that crucial motion.

Over-Calling (and Not Using a Whistle)

So, you spent $135 on that sweet-sounding Drake Slayer double reed, and after hours of practice, you’re really starting to nail it. But just because you’ve got a great call doesn’t mean you need to get $135 worth of sound out of it every time you spot a flock of ducks.

Sure, there are times when a lot of calling is necessary to turn those greenheads—multiple callers, plenty of noise, and all of it realistic. But eight times out of ten, less is more. It’s usually better to call in moderation than to blow hard at every bird. Don’t assume what they want; let the birds tell you. Often, a simple string of contented hen quacks—QUACK…QUACK…Quack…quack…quack—short, sweet, and to the point, is all it takes to get their attention. After that, let your decoys and motion do the rest.

And don’t forget the whistle. A tool like Slayer’s 4-in-1 duck whistle can be lethal, especially late in the season. The subtle DWEEK of a drake mallard or the occasional pintail or wigeon whistle mixed in with your quacks can make all the difference. It’s a simple tool but a proven one.

Poor Range Estimation

You’ve done everything right: set a solid decoy spread around a jerk cord, called sparingly on the corners, and concealed yourself perfectly in the Russian olives. The ducks are coming in. Closer. One hundred yards. Seventy-five. You stand, flick off the safety, and take your shot with the birds still at 55 yards. Why?

One of the toughest challenges in duck hunting is accurately estimating range—the distance between you and that incoming greenhead. Is it 40 yards? 30? Or 55? Improving at this skill comes with experience, practice, and patterning—something many hunters (myself included) don’t do enough of, season to season or shotshell to shotshell.

Here’s my advice: before the season starts, pattern your go-to duck gun. There are plenty of YouTube tutorials if you’re new to patterning. While you’re at the range, take time to recognize what 30, 40, 50, and 60 yards actually look like. Use a life-sized mallard silhouette at 40 yards and take mental notes. Or try a helium balloon and a rangefinder. Over time, your brain will start saying “yes” or “no” with more confidence.

And for those who think their $9-per-shell tungsten ammo can ethically kill a duck at 65 yards—yes, that’s probably true. But the real question is: can you?

Getting Stale (or in Some Cases, Lazy)

Lastly, let’s talk about getting stale. If you’ve hunted ducks for any length of time, you’ve heard the term “stale ducks.” These are the birds that have been in the area for weeks and know the game. They’ve mapped out the blinds, memorized the refuge boundaries, feed by moonlight, and sleep during the day. Every now and then, one slips up and ends up on the strap, but not often. They’re savvy—stale.

Hunters can get stale, too. Some might call it laziness. The same spread, minimal motion, half-hearted calling, and a blind that desperately needs fresh brushing. Or maybe you’re set up 150 yards from the “X,” but you’re comfortable, sipping a hot cup of coffee, and convince yourself, “Ah, one will wander over here eventually.”

If you really want to bring home a duck, sometimes you have to move. If the situation allows, pick up and make those 150 steps to the right spot. Don’t, and you’ll likely be making a big mistake.