Decoys arrayed for teal and other migratory ducks may bring resident mottleds into range. Jump shooting also an option.
January 08, 2025
By Ian Nance
Six mottled ducks worried around an evaporating southwest Florida cattle wallow, quacking and chattering into the bluebird December morning. Travis Futch, Dirty J, and I had spotted them on the truck ride to camp after a so-so teal hunt, and with bag limit space to spare, we hatched a plan of attack.
Parking behind a nearby cabbage palm island, we swapped to full chokes and maneuvered within 60 yards, crouching and belly-crawling through the broom sedge and wispy dog fennels until the cover expired and all we could see were yellow bills and peach faces periscoping above the browning pasture grasses, gleaming in the winter sun.
On three, we heaved up and charged, and like in a war movie when the soldiers leap the trenches on command, one immediately fell, as Dirty tripped flat. With a man down, Travis and I sprinted forward and managed to bag our skyward-bound birds before returning to laugh and pry the dried grass and cow residue off J’s face.
That’s been nearly 20 years ago, and I’ve shot plenty since, but I still smile reminiscing about that unexpected hunt each time I hold one of these birds.
The Florida mottled duck, AKA the Florida mallard, is the quintessential “Big Duck” of the state. Obsessed waterfowlers visit each season to bag one of these resident birds in their quest to complete the 41-species North American Waterfowl Grand Slam, much like turkey hunters seeking the famed Osceola gobbler for turkey slams.
For local hunters, we simply appreciate the modest mottled duck as reliable game, welcoming to decoys and calls and available to save an outing when other waterfowl aren’t cooperating. They inhabit a variety of native ecosystems in peninsular Florida, from lake marshes to brackish estuaries, but they are truly home in prairie habitat.
Right: Hunters examine a feral mallard hen, with wide white bars evident both sides of blue speculum. Inset: Yellow bill and buffy head of a drake mottled duck. (Photos by Ian Nance)
If you’ve ever hunted the classic greenhead elsewhere in the country, I would describe hunting mottled ducks as mallard lite. Rather than complicated spreads, though, a handful of full-sized decoys will suffice, and a standard mallard reed call fits their bill. They will typically commit quickly to a set-up, or possibly circle once or twice, unlike greenheads who’ll often cause neck strain and dizziness as they repeatedly loop and study blinds.
This might make the mottled duck sound dumb, but the explanation is simple. Mottled ducks don’t migrate in the classic sense and tend to have habitual ambitions on where and when they want to be. While they will certainly work calls, the ability to artificially coax them close is not as critical to success as scouting the birds one day and fashioning a blind out of natural vegetation for the next.
Where possible, mottled ducks are fun to jump-shoot. In any scenario, they are not particularly difficult birds to splash. I prefer a 12-gauge shooting 3-inch No. 4s and a modified choke. If pass-shooting or jumping-shooting, a full choke and No. 2s are suitable.
And in keeping with a theme of limited gear, there is no need to strap on bandoliers of ammo when specifically hunting mottled ducks. The legal daily bag limit is, was, and always will be one bird. They are excellent eating, and I do believe in plucking and roasting them whole.
So, whether seeking a one-time trophy specimen or rounding out the day’s bag, Florida’s mottled duck is here to oblige.
Mottled ducks are at home on the Florida prairies. The subspecies Anas fulvigula is unique to the Florida peninsula, and for that reason often called Florida duck.
The Mallard-Mottled Hybridization Issue
Since mottled ducks are non-migratory, FWC is the lead agency in their management. Numbers seem to be holding steady, but there has long been concern with native mottled ducks crossbreeding with released or feral mallards, a so-called genetic swamping of our native species that risks the long-term sustainability of the pure mottled duck.
How prevalent this hybridization is demands constant study, and identifying “muddled ducks” from feral mallards is tricky. While green heads and curled tails can be tell-tale signs of either, plumage variations are also based on hormones, age, molting periods, and factors beyond whether their mama was a mallard. In short, if you go looking for a problem, you’ll likely find it.
Such is the challenge with managing this species. A regulated control permit is available through FWC to remove feral mallards and their nests, where possible. At the very least, don’t release mallards into Florida’s ecosystem.
This article was featured in the December-January issue of Florida Sportsman magazine. Click to subscribe .
