Book Review

I’ll report on a how-to on waterfowl hunting, a well-written memoir about a special dog, a recipe-filled paean to sporting-lodge cuisine and a guide to the knotty subject of . . . knots!

Waterfowling: Beyond the Basics
By M.D. Johnson (Stackpole Books, 800-732-3669, www.stackpole books.com; 2008) 176 pp. $34.95.

To M.D. Johnson, the key to successfully hunting waterfowl lies in not being afraid of “trying something different, breaking away from the norm, having it fail, and then having the—let’s call it testicular fortitude—to try something just a little bit different.”
    Johnson is the author of several earlier books, including Guide to Pheasant Hunting (reviewed Nov/Dec ’07) and Successful Duck Hunting (Nov/Dec ’02). He bases this new effort on 33 years of waterfowling experience plus contacts with dyed-in-the-wool fowlers from across the continent—veterans willing to share tips on how to pursue a range of fowl from harlequin ducks in the Pacific Northwest to snow geese in the Dakotas to eiders off of the coast of Maine.
    Waterfowling: Beyond the Basics covers layout hunting, skiffs, how to use and care for duck and goose calls, what gear to stick in your blind bag, how to cyber-scout using the Internet, shooting instruction and more. There’s even a section on hunting rails and snipe—little-known wetlands species that waterfowlers often encounter while en route to the blind.
The chapter “Thirty-One Hardcore Waterfowl Strategies” presents ideas that really do go beyond the basics, such as: “Back away from your blocks. When late-season geese get de-coy-wise, try [setting] six or eight full-bodies in the open where there’s goose traffic: say, a cut beanfield. Use natural cover—a fencerow or brush pile—as a blind 60 to 80 yards downwind. As the birds check the decoys but before they slide off, they should be in range.” Johnson suggests adding coots to your spread, creating on-the-water motion and learning to call in “new languages” as spoken by species other than those you most often hunt.
    The book includes color photos taken by the author’s wife, Julia. Some readers may not respond to the author’s jocular outdoor-writer style. Still, Waterfowling does a good job of presenting useful duck- and goose-hunting techniques.

Merle’s Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog
By Ted Kerasote (Harcourt, 212-592-1000, www.harcourtbooks.com; 2008) 398 pp. $15.

In the Utah desert before Ted Kerasote began a raft trip down the San Juan River, he was approached by a friendly, medium-sized young dog with a close reddish-gold coat. The dog looked like he might have had some Labrador retriever and redbone coonhound blood in him. Had he been abandoned by a Navajo shepherd or strayed from some other owner? The dog picked Kerasote as a potential partner, and Kerasote responded in kind.
    Ted Kerasote is a freelance writer, wilderness traveler and elk hunter from Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and the author of the well-received Blood Ties: Nature, Culture, and the Hunt. In Merle’s Door, Kerasote speculates that the dog, which he named Merle, may have detected through his enhanced sense of smell the game that Kerasote had subsisted on for many years, scenting him out in much the same way that wolves may have forged alliances with meat-hunting humans eons in the past. (It also help-ed that Ker-asote had brought a-long some tasty elk sausage for the float.)
    They would share the next 13 years. Kerasote ponders, “Does controlling a dog’s life through micro-managing its behavior short-circuit its ability to think on its own?” He adds: “I didn’t take care of Merle; I allowed him to take care of himself. The result wasn’t an unmanageable dog, but a steady one.” Kerasote installed a dog door in his house so that Merle could come and go as he pleased. Having a say over his own behavior seem-ingly allowed Merle to continue developing as a canny survivor as well as a boon companion on ski trips and horseback rides, mountain ascents and elk hunts. Merle also proved to be an able elk-hunting partner, detecting the big, wary deer by using his keen senses of smell, sight and hearing and communicating this intelligence to his human through whines and body language.
    Kerasote works hard to understand dogs in general and Merle in particular. He believes dogs are “speakers of a foreign language and, if we pay attention to their vocalizations, ocular and facial expressions, and ever-changing postures, we can translate what they’re saying.” Kerasote supplies such translations freely, putting into English what he believes Merle was saying. Things like: “I’ve paid my dues. See you at home” after sitting around watching Kerasote fish for trout, an activity Merle found boring in the extreme. And “So this is why Ted brought me here,” when Kerasote took him bird hunting and a partner displayed a shotgun. (Although Merle tolerated high-powered rifles as necessary tools for hunting big game, in general he feared guns: Later, a vet would dig a bullet out of his shoulder, explaining that anxiety.)
    Kerasote believes that too frequently “we reduce dogs to a state of quiet capitulation.” He asks whether such dogs’ “loyalty,” as we perceive it, constitutes “true devotion, or the numbed reaction of captives to captors?” I think that with some breeds of dog and in some parts of the world, a person can grant a dog the kind of freedom that Kerasote allowed Merle to enjoy—and under which he clearly blossomed. With other breeds, particularly dedicated bird dogs, it wouldn’t work as well, because such dogs are closely bred to perform certain tasks and are so intent in their instincts that letting them roam without governance likely would be disastrous.
    The book follows Merle from formative youth through competent and respected middle age (he became known as the “Mayor of Kelly,” the small town near Jackson Hole where Kerasote lives) and finally to senescence and death. The narrative explores canine intelligence and sheds light on how dogs learn. Kerasote also makes a strong case that dogs know when they are dying and that they can comprehend their own mortality and that of others. Merle’s Door presents in a brave and honest way the deep, multi-faceted love that can grow between a person and a dog. Simultaneously entertaining and thought-provoking, Merle’s Door is one of the finest books I’ve read about the human-canine relationship. It helped me examine in new and revealing ways the partnerships I’ve built—and am still building—with my hunting spaniels.

Orvis Guide to Great Sporting Lodge Cuisine
By Jim Lepage & Paul Fersen (Thomas Nelson, 800-251-4000, www.thomasnelson.com; 2008) 226 pp. $29.99.

This toothsome book features high-quality photographs of sporting lodges and hunting terrain interspersed with shots of fine cuisine—salads to main courses to desserts as prepared and presented by 41 Orvis-endorsed lodges across North America.
In an introduction Orvis employee Jim Lepage notes that, “A wonderful meal with hunting and fishing companions can salvage a tough day in the field or be the crowning touch after a particularly memorable day hunting or fishing.” Co-author Paul Fersen, who, like Lepage, works at the Orvis home store in Vermont, supplies a description of each lodge. (Gee, I hope poor Paul didn’t have to hunt and fish—and dine—at all of those places.)
    The text covers Alaska, the Midwest, the Northeast, the Northwest, the Rockies, the South, the Southeast and the West. Some of the recipes are fairly complex, but most are simple enough that the average hunter could make them in his or her own kitchen.

Everyday Knots
By Geoffrey Budworth (Skyhorse, 212-643-6816, www.skyhorsepublishing.com; 2007) 160 pp. $14.95.

What article of equipment do waterfowlers, boaters, anglers, climbers and homeowners all put to frequent use? That would be rope. This softcover book, designed as a reference rather than a guide to be carried afield, will help outdoor folks configure rope in a range of knots useful for tasks such as tying a small-diameter line to a thicker one, putting a fixed loop into a rope (so you can put your foot in the loop), securing a boat to the roof of a vehicle, attaching a barrier rope to a series of uprights (so you can weave brush into a quick blind)—the list goes on and on.
    A Briton, Geoffrey Budworth is a cofounder of the International Guild of Knot Tyers. His book provides easy-to-interpret, step-by-step drawings and written instructions for crafting more than 80 knots. He explains the history of knots, how cordage gradually has improved over the millennia, how to coil and care for rope, and classifications of knots.
    “A knot is either right or completely wrong,” writes Budworth. “One tuck amiss or astray and an entirely different knot—or no knot at all—results.” He advocates learning to tie knots in the dark, “since knotting in real life must often be done in such handicapped situations.” It takes practice, but “a knot, once mastered, should last a lifetime.” Enrich your sporting life with the knowledge collected in this book. As the author asserts: “Knotting ventured, knotting gained.”