SINKBOX HUNTING
March 11, 2012. From THE OUTLAW GUNNER by Harry M Walsh. 1971.
The Knotts Island hunters interviewed for the book were Luther Parker,
J. M. Wade and T. B. Ward.
The term battery box, synonymous with sinkbox, may indicate a New
York origin. Legislation against battery boxes indicates that their use
was once widespread. New York prohibited their use in 1839. For a short
time the law was respected, but later the gunners defied it-they began
shooting with masks and at the same time threatened to shoot any
informer, should one be found. Finally, the masks were laid aside, the
law became a dead letter, and it was repealed. New jersey outlawed
their use in 1879, Ohio in 1852, Michigan in 1897, and Maryland and
North Carolina in 1935.
The boxes are variously made but, for the most part, resemble a
coffin in their construction. The resemblance to that grisly article is
so complete that the last two boxes on Ocracoke Island, North Carolina,
were used to bury two English seamen, found drowned there during World
War II. The boxes were made for single or double occupancy in a sitting
or lying position. They are, therefore, properly referred to as single,
or double “lay-down” or “sit-down” batteries.
Fixed to the box were encircling wooden wings known as the
platforms. Flexible burlap or canvas-covered wings were then hinged to
the platforms in order to squelch the waves. The head of the box that
caught the heaviest seas had three of these wings, while one sufficed
elsewhere.
The fact that the box could be sunken nearly flush with the water
was the secret of its success and gave the device its name. Extra
40-pound weights, as well as the metal wing decoys, were used to “take
her down.” One such double sit-down battery from the Bell’s Island,
North Carolina club took more than two tons of extra weights. These
fitted in a waist compartment about the box.
The surface of the box was then made to appear natural with
flat-bottom wing decoys. The avidly sought 25-pound metal wing decoys
went on the wooden platform. However, because of their weight, they
could not be used on the canvas wings. Flat-bottomed wooden decoys were
used here, and are exceptionally rare. These unique decoys were weighed
at the bottom and anchored with a small line which passed through an
opening in the material. This vent had the auxiliary purpose of
allowing air trapped under the wings to escape.
In most instances, a 15-knot wind could be tolerated in a sinkbox,
but a real danger of swamping existed in heavier seas. With increasing
wave action, a hunter could help himself by getting rid of some weight,
raising the encircling lead collar, or retiring to a more sheltered
area. At best, however, gunning with a sinkbox was wet, cold, and
punishing work.
Many factors had to be considered in putting out the decoys. It took
nearly an hour to “set up" the customary 300 decoys.
The stool [group of decoys] was arranged to hide the box and pull
the ducks down so that they could not see the hunter. A right-handed
man can swing to the left better than to the right-with this in mind,
most decoys were placed to the left of the box in an egg- or
diamond-shaped pattern. Approximately two-thirds of the decoys were at
the foot and the remainder close about the head. The same principles
for hunting diving ducks described elsewhere were used in arranging the
decoys. The wind always came from the hunter’s back.
With moderate weather and the better-educated ducks that arrived
later in the season, a different arrangement was necessary. On such
occasions two rigs would join forces and “tie out double.” Said Pat
O’Neil of Coinjock, “We would arrange the boxes in various ways to make
them attractive to the ducks. However, I never tied out with anyone I
didn’t know to be a safe hunter.”
“The use of larger decoys was something we discovered by accident,”
stated Luther Parker of Knotts Island, North Carolina. “One winter,
with all the fowl gathered in Currituck Sound, the ‘Ocracoke boys’ came
up with their larger Brant decoys. They just painted them like redheads
and started doing better than we did. After that, we all went to the
larger decoys because they were more visible to the ducks and they hid
the box.”
Luther also felt that Charlie Balance of Bell’s Island, North
Carolina, designed the first sit-down box about 1900. “At least,” said
Luther, “it was the first I’d ever seen. These rigs were heavier and
harder to handle than the conventional lay-down batteries. Jess
Waterfield of Knotts Island, North Carolina, added a boom and mast for
loading and unloading from his old shad boat.”
It is in this wild and beautiful area of the outer banks of North
Carolina that one can still get a glimpse of hunting in its ancient
plumage. Here, in this area still rich in God-made beauty and lacking
in the handiwork of man, the true flavor of hunting exists. Wildfowling
was as good along the outer banks as in any other area, and was at
times even better.
In this land of prolonged and pleasant living, many of the old
market hunters still live to tell their story. Captain Lloyd Doxey and
Pat O’Neil of Coinjock, Casey Jones of Water Lily, Luther Parker of
Knotts Island and Harold Hampton of Swan Island gunned commercially
with deadly and experienced efficiency. Their success depended upon
their skill with a gun and their knowledge of the birds.
“Like anything else,” said Captain Lloyd Doxey, “you had to be good
enough at it to make a living.” The entire picture has been
exaggerated: everyone adds something to it, and you only hear of the
good days. Rain, fog, ice, wind, and rest days were always a problem.
The hunters might go a week without hunting. The market was always
unstable and at times, there were just no ducks. Most hunters shot
about five thousand shells a year, killing at least as many ducks, but
anyone clearing a thousand dollars for a season was lucky.
Thanks to the closing of the inlet below Corolla in 1824, fresh water Currituck Sound attracted most of the diving ducks, hunters, and sinkboxes. Albemarle and Pamlico Sounds have as much good “ducking” waters spread out thin as exist in some entire flyways. They are still a hunter’s paradise - second only to Currituck.
“Around 1915, when Currituck Sound was in full swing, about thirty
boxes were in use,” said Harold Hampton. Most of these belonged to the
clubs and others catering to sportsmen. About ten, however, were
strictly commercial.
“Everyone’s interested in the sharpshooters, while the boatman or
pick-up man is forgotten,” remarked Luther Parker. This was one of the
men who could boast of a duck “know-how.” Wallace O’Neil and Ed Baum
were two of the greatest-these men watched where and how the ducks were
working and determined where and how to hunt.
As a rule, the boatman kept a thousand yards to leeward and picked
up the ducks following a criss-cross pattern. At times, Pat O’Neil had
a hundred ducks down before the boatman had started. The ducks were
tied in pairs using old decoy strings, and were hung in racks on the
boat.
“The ducks were never picked or iced down because duck speculators
came right out to the boat and bought them,” said Captain Lloyd.
“Prices varied and sometimes they wanted four ducks instead of two for
a pair. These duck buyers had the markets and made the money. Stewart
Rogers bought for Toxey and Burgess of Elizabeth City. Robert Williams
worked for a man named Abbott in Norfolk,” said the captain.
As elsewhere, market gunning in Currituck Sound did not come into
full bloom until after the Civil War. The Chesapeake and Albemarle
Canal opened (in 1859) in conjunction with several railroads, made
large-scale shipping possible.
“Elizabeth City and Norfolk became the main terminals,” stated
Captain Lloyd Doxey, former skipper of the stern-wheeler Currituck. The
old Dominion Line carried the fowl to New York, while the Bay Line
shipped into Baltimore.
The side-wheeler
Cygnet began operating about 1875 and was followed by the
stern-wheelers, Comet and Currituck. These boats made all the stops
from Kitty Hawk bridge, north to Norfolk. They carried unknown and
untold millions of ducks to market. Captain Lloyd stated that at times
he had fifty barrels of ducks aboard (one hundred ducks to each
barrel). The captain made three trips a week to Norfolk, carrying ducks
from November to March.
“Even before the railroads and steamers, sailing sharpies were
used,” stated Captain Truxton Midgett of Kitty Hawk. His father’s
sailing vessel, her hold loaded with ducks, was towed through the canal
by steam tugs. There were no ice plants in those days. All ice was
packed in sawdust and either bought locally during the winter or
brought in from Maine. Large ice houses like the one pictured in
Crisfield were necessary facilities at all ports. Spoilage, however,
does not seem to have been a problem.
“The best duckin’ day anyone can remember happened about 1917,”
stated Luther Parker. It must have been the wor1d’s best gunning day
and it proceeded in this way:
That winter there were no ducks in North Carolina, except a few
hard-to-sell blackheads. Most of the guides in Back Bay, Virginia were
from Currituck Sound, and they sent word that there were more
canvasback than they had ever seen.
The next morning, Russell and Van Buren Griggs, Lassell Barco,
Sinclair Luark, Lloyd Doxey, and Luther Parker headed with their gear
for Virginia waters. Their arrival at Craft’s Landing in Back Bay was
greeted without much enthusiasm by a group of Norfolk sportsmen.
Purchasing their out-of-state licenses, they watched the sports‘
uninspiring shooting. They were missing more than they were hitting.
The sportsmen’s boxes were smaller than the North Carolinians and they
were using smaller and fewer decoys. 50 to 75 birds a day was tops for
them.
“In about an hour, we had Lloyd Doxey’s rig of more than 300 decoys
ready to go. Just to show them a little shooting,” remarks Luther.
Doxey’s first toll was thirteen canvasback and he got twelve with
his five-shot automatic: that one survivor looked a little lonely
flying away. Between three o’clock and sundown, he killed 155 birds and
staged a beautiful exhibition of shooting.
Lloyd Doxey continued: “The next morning, the world seemed wrapped
in a large, dark blanket; a more ominous piece of sky would be hard to
imagine. A light snow was mixed with a light wind. You could feel a bad
storm coming and it kept threatening all day.
“There was more fowl in the air than I had ever seen,” said Captain
Lloyd. “The birds were excited and confused. You could stand right up
in the box and shoot without them paying any attention. I shot as fast
as I could load my two automatics. When one got shot, I’d poke her
barrel down in the water and she’d soon steam herself dry.”
“I had only brought one case of shells with me,” added Luther
Parker. “My pick-up man, Wallace O’Neil, went back to the landing for
more and damaged the rudder on a stump. With poor steerage, he could
only pick up a little over 500 ducks, but I know l killed at least 700."
“You could tell each others shooting,” said Captain Lloyd. “I shot
by far the fastest. Van Griggs, who may have been the greatest shot in
Currituck Sound, had a slow, steady pattern; Luther shot in volleys and
he was the best on multiple ducks.
Van Caroon, who was pick-up man for Van Griggs, had this to say:
“The birds were falling faster than I could pick them up and tie them.
You never saw Van’s head come out of the box. I picked up 518 birds out
of his first 600 shells. He must have killed more than 700 birds. My
boat was down by her head and shipping water over the bow. The man who
bought the birds had a horse and cart. The day after that he had a team
of horses with a wagon.
“Our arrival that evening with over 1500 birds was greeted by an
angry reception committee of sportsmen. They called us ‘pot’ hunters. A
Dr. Lankford from Norfolk was their spokesman, while Taswell Taylor was
our attorney. We kept on hunting but that was the best day any of us
ever had before or since."
No discussion of Currituck Sound and the sinkbox would be complete
without a note on the ruddy duck. This species shuns cold, deep or salt
water and found the habitat of Currituck Sound to its liking. Greater
numbers concentrated here, perhaps, than any other place on earth.
Luther Parker, who was born at Whale’s Head (Corolla) ninety years
ago and market-hunted for over twenty years, had this to say:
“It is hard to believe how thick the “boobies” (ruddies) were at one
time. They sat in rafts twenty acres across and their feeding would
muddy all of Knotts Island Sound.
“As a young boy, I remember how the entire community would hunt them
in what we called ‘rounding up the ruddies.’ A flotilla of thirty boats
or so would corner the birds and drive them towards land. To escape,
the ducks had to get past the boats. They would not take off over land
and, with the wind at their tails, it was almost impossible for them to
get in the air.
“Slowly, the encircling armada forced the birds closer and closer
together ‘penning’ them against the land. At easy range, all hunters
began shooting. Killing 1,500 to 2,000 was not unusual.”
The ruddy duck-small and hard to pick, with dark meat, had little
market value at first. They were sold locally at four for a quarter.
In an effort to obtain an outlet for the ducks, Jasper (Bode) White
gave a large banquet of ruddy ducks in a New York hotel. The Yankees
liked them and the price went up. “Now,” said Luther, “we had something
else to hunt and could alternate with the redheads.
“The first day a good market developed,” remembered Luther, “a duck
buyer named Willis Brinson came out to my boat. ‘I have a large order
for boobies,’ he said. ‘I’ll pay $2.85 a pair for anything with a head
and a tail on it regardless of how poor they are’.
“Right away we sat up in a booby flyway. That day,” smiled Luther,
“I killed 528 ducks and never made a double more than a dozen times.”
Ruddy ducks present an elusive target. They fly fast, low, and are
likely to hit you in the back of the head. One sportsman shot 51 times,
killing only one bird. “You get one shot coming and one shot as they
leave,” said Luther.
A special method known as “lining out” or “funneling through" was
used to hunt “boobies” from a sinkbox. Boats and stakes were used to
form a large “V” with the box at the apex. A few decoys of any type
except geese were used. The large raft of ducks was then chased from
its feeding beds. As the ducks returned, a few at a time along their
well-known flyway, the hunter was ready. On an average day, 125 to 150
were killed; 568 out of two cases of shells (600) was the best day’s
shooting Luther ever had hunting ruddies.