Hurricanes Hit Deer, Hunters and Property Alike
More than six months have passed since hurricanes Katrina and Rita slammed into the Gulf Coast, but we continue to see photos and videotapes from those unforgettable days and wonder how anything survived.
For example, during the 29th annual Southeast Deer Study Group meeting in Baton Rouge in February, one speaker showed photos that included not only dead deer floating in the debris, but also the bayou’s toughest creature of all: an alligator. Imagine the power and force necessary to kill an adult alligator amid the surging waters and wreckage.
Then again, no one is surprised anymore about anything hurricane-related. After all, those of us who live and work in Gulf Coast states still see semi-trailer trucks wedged between fields and woodlands hundreds of yards from the nearest road. Likewise, we continue to see large oceangoing yachts and sailboats stacked like junked toys at the back of bays once protected by elaborate jetties and breakwaters.
Another speaker at the SEDSG meeting shared entries from camp journals that showed how hunting had changed in the storm’s wake. In the years before Rita and Katrina, some camp members routinely went onto surrounding lands and came back with eight squirrels. Those woods are now tossed, broken and unhuntable. And the camps themselves – including their cabin, sheds and outbuildings -- were scrubbed out. Even after the waters receded, hunters often returned to find little or no evidence a camp had been there for three generations and more. Journal entries from fall 2005 describe how the camp’s hunters were forced to go elsewhere but enjoyed less.
Amazingly, though, the region’s white-tailed deer usually emerged from the storms and went about their business. Sure, many photos show dead whitetails in flooded swamps and shorelines, but just as many photos show deer eating leaves from all the shattered limbs and toppled trees left behind by the storms. Biologists shared stories of deer finding high ground during the storms and riding them out like they’ve probably done for eons. Occasionally the wildlife-agency people spotted deer swimming in the middle of nowhere, but more often they reported them standing atop levees and other dry spots.
Some deer were more lucky than others, of course, because not all high ground is created equal. For every deer finding a sudden surplus of food within reach, others literally walked in circles for days, searching for any morsel overlooked earlier. Still other deer combed backyards for something worthwhile. These unlucky deer just happened to take refuge on land with little vegetation and few trees to drop branches with nutritious leaves.
In most cases, as floodwaters receded all autumn, deer moved out to resume their normal activities, all sharing a common look: knee-high black boots. No, they weren’t wearing rubber galoshes. It just looked that way. As the whitetails moved through the endless plains of silt and mud, their hoofs and lower legs were stained by the backwash.
Yet the whitetail survives, and there’s little evidence its numbers were decimated by the hurricanes. Deer truly are survivors, and everyone across the South is hoping we never see a repeat of the 2005 hurricane season. With luck, 2006 will let us continue the work of rebuilding our hunting camps, salvaging our trees, and following our whitetails back into the swamps and bayous we once hunted with our fathers and grandfathers.
If you ever need a break from these endless chores, think about attending a National Whitetail Association banquet. We’ve been busy the past six months getting our banquet circuit back on its feet. Chances are you’ll find one close to home. Look for our banquet schedule in the pages that follow, as well as on our TV show on the Men’s Channel.
- Brent Bergeron, NWA Founder and Publisher |
