The Lucky Shotgun - A Boys First Turkey
-By Captain Mark W. Gore

My boy and I get back in my truck after grabbing some fuel and a man’s gas station breakfast, ya’ll know the kind you get when Momma is not around. A bag of Sweet Sixteen chocolate donuts and a couple of Mountain Dews (aka Redneck Coffee) to wash them down. This is truly the real breakfast of Champion Turkey hunters. My son is wide-awake and I think he didn’t sleep a wink, with dreams of Big Gobblers dancing in his head. As we ease down the dirt road on a sod farm in eastern Polk County I park my truck under a big live oak. I can see the excitement in my son’s eyes as we gather our gear. It is now 4:30 am after our two-hour drive from Tampa to the land of Florida’s prized turkey, the Osceola. We had a brisk walk across the sod pasture to the edge of an oak hammock where I had built a blind for us next to a cypress head. I had seen some birds roosting here several days earlier. We put our gear down and set our decoys about thirty yards out in the pasture in front of us. I crawled into the blind with my son and after about an hour of trying to catch a few winks while waiting for daylight, the stiffness in my back and neck is about all I can take. I can’t feel anything from the waist down in the tiny blind with him sitting almost on top of me. The mosquitoes are on dawn patrol, and every one of them has found us. It was still another hour before sunrise, so my son and I both stretched out flat on the ground with our heads resting on my vest and my Bug Tamer jacket over the top of us.

Just as I fell into a deep coma to make up for that 2:00 am wakeup, a barred owl lands above us and belts one out to break the deep silence of the swamp. My son Holden says, “Daddy” and I replied while gasping for air, “Yes son”? Holden my son says, “That Owl scared the crap out of you!” we both laughed hysterically, because without a doubt, he did scare the crap out of me. After I caught my breath, I called back to the owl to keep it around until first light and it paid off, because the gobbler sounded off not even a hundred yards from us. As the sun peeped above the sod farm from the east, I could see several turkeys flying down in the field in front of us headed in the other direction as usual. As If it wasn’t already hard enough to keep a 10-year-old boy who was jacked up on chocolate donuts and Mountain Dew sitting still, now these darn turkeys were going to make us play the waiting game.

I could see several gobblers in the distance, with their harem, walking on the edge of the field and the morning was getting later and later. I kept reassuring my son that these turkeys will see us if we move to go after them. Patience is critical in this game I like to call the Turkey Shuffle. I could see and hear the birds respond to our calling, but they already had all they could handle. I gave the birds about 20 minutes and called again softly with my slate call just to make them wonder what they were missing. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, one gobbled behind us, almost cutting my calling off. I knew he was coming, so I had my son lean back against me and raise the 20 gauge youth Remington shotgun on his knee as slowly as possible. What my son did not know, was that this was just not any ordinary shotgun that he held in his hands! The shotgun he was using was lucky and had many successful first times in the woods with other young boys. The lucky shotgun was loaned to me by my good friend, Steve Davis of Tampa Wholesale Nursery in Dover, FL. I met Steve when he was the President of NWTF Central Florida Longbeards Chapter, in Tampa. Steve also brought me into the NWTF Chapter back in my early Turkey hunting days. Steve is a true pillar of the outdoor community, as well as a great businessman in the family owned Nursery business. As a young boy, Steve’s son Eric Davis was the first to break in the shotgun by killing his first Gobbler. Now Eric is also a man himself. Then Dave Walker’s Boys used the gun to put their birds down, then another and another. The last to use the lucky shotgun before my son Holden was Hunter Sullivan who shot his Gobbler while filming an Outdoor Television show for Hunter Specialties with his father William Sullivan. William is another great Florida Woodsman and good friend of mine who also happens to be NWTF’s Florida State Board of Director President. I was lucky to have the torch passed down to my son Holden with a gun so special to so many. I decided not tell my son of this lucky shotgun in fear of putting any pressure on him. It was definitely enough pressure on me to keep the tradition going.

As we sat waiting and the Gobbler got closer and closer, I knew that the man above was with us just like he was with the many others, and it put my mind at ease. I could feel my son’s little heart beating through his back on my chest and I am sure he could feel my heart on his back. The bird was so close that I could just scream, but we could not turn back to look to see where he was in fear that he was looking right at us. This went on for another hour and all the feeling in my lower extremities was gone. My lower back ached with pain like I had never felt before, but I just was not going to blow it for him. Just when I thought we could not take it anymore, the Gobbler appeared from our left and glided through the Palmettos onto the pasture in front of our ground blind. As the Gobbler stood left of the decoys in front of us, with tears of joy and a frog in my throat as big as Green Swamp monster, I told him to take off the safety and take the shot when he was ready.

The explosion from the shotgun as it made its mark scared me more than the owl did that morning. My son turned to me and shouted, “I got him! I got him, Dad”!!

There have been many times in my life when I thought, wow what a perfect day, but this one was as good as it gets. When my son picked up his first Gobbler and looked up at me he had a smile from Florida to California. The Lucky shotgun that was blessed by the man above had seen so many moments like this. This was one more bond and a passing of heritage from one generation to another. I thank the Lord everyday for the gift of my kids, and spending moments like this together in the outdoors is truly a blessing.

Capt. Mark W. Gore is an outdoor writer, guide & speaker from Tampa Bay. He owns Guide Headquarters offering fishing charters & outdoor communications. Contact him at: 813.434.5504 by email at: mgore2@tampabay.rr.com or visit www.captainmarkgore.com.