Magpie goose shooting in NT becomes too popular as Darwin booms, NT hunters say

In darkness the hunters unpacked decoys and water sleds, sprayed repellent and sucked on cigarettes, rummaged through ammunition and checked break-action shotguns.

John Gavalas and Tony Geranis have been hunting magpie geese side by side in the Northern Territory for 35 years - ever since they were teenagers taking pot shots at Darwin's Karama rubbish tip.

"You could buy bullets at the service station back then," Mr Geranis said.

"We would go down there with a box of beer after work. The police would arrive and say, 'shoot first and then drink'."

But much has changed since then. On a weekday morning on the shore of Harrison Dam a half-hour drive from the centre of Darwin, the two old-timers complained bitterly about shrinking hunting reserves, feral weed choking wetlands, and "southerners" with improper shooting etiquette.

The annual magpie goose and duck-hunting season is highly anticipated in the north and many see it as an essential part of the Territory lifestyle.

But despite this revered status, the practice is also highly contested and regulated. Where and when hunters may shoot, what ammunition they may use and how many birds they may kill and take home have all become regulated.

Meanwhile, Darwin's population has boomed with oil and gas workers. Waterfowl hunting permit numbers have increased from less than 700 in 1997 - the year after the national gun buyback scheme following the Port Arthur massacre - to more than 2,200 this year.

"It's a great lifestyle and we're losing it real fast," Mr Geranis said.

"There's too many people, too many guns."

'Four times as many hunters but quarter as much space'

Each year an estimated 2-3 million magpie geese take to the skies in coastal northern Australia. The hunting season typically begins in September and runs for four months. The birds' meat is red and nutritious and hunters sometimes call them "flying cows".

Different hunting regulations apply to Indigenous and non-Indigenous people: most contentious is the rule allowing native title holders to hunt on traditional lands, while restricting non-Indigenous hunters to three reserves around Darwin: Harrison Dam, Lambells Lagoon and Howard Springs/Shoal Bay.

Earlier this month an Indigenous man was attacked by a crocodile while hunting in wetlands near Peppimenarti, about 300 kilometres south-west of Darwin.

Mango and watermelon farmers have complained about magpie geese eating their crops - some estimated they take as much as five per cent. But while some welcomed hunters onto their land, others blamed them for scaring the geese out of the swamps.

In recent years hunting on farms of less than 50 hectares has been regulated due to the risk of shot falling on houses or cars.

The consequences are unsafe, according to Field and Game NT president Bart Irwin.

"When Lambells starts to fire most hunters don’t go there," he said. "They don’t feel safe encroached upon by hunters.

"It creates a dangerous situation - one that I don’t want to put myself in.

"There's almost four times as many hunters to back in 1997 and yet the area we can hunt has been reduced by probably at least 25 per cent.

"We're standing shoulder to shoulder."

'Because we own guns we're criminals'

The two hunters tramped into the swamp hauling buoyant sleds of gear: guns, ammo and "feeder" and "scout" decoys designed to mimic natural flock behaviour. They assembled the decoys in two flocks either side of a stand of paperbarks.

The ankle-deep water hid precipitous holes. One hunter fell in to his waist. Water splashed the precious ammunition.

Then they waited under the trees for the sun to rise. The pair who work as a carpenter and a commercial fishermen respectively had saved up all year for the privilege of these mornings. Mosquitoes swarmed. The men wore wetsuit booties to keep out the leeches.

"Bloodsuckers in the water and bloodsuckers on the wind," Mr Gavalas said cheerfully.

"I could sit here all day. It's better than television.

"Hunting can be used for conservation. We want to see all this pristine. Birds by the thousand feeding on the dam, and us here to hunt."

"There's four hunting permit-holders in my house alone. My wife and my two sons.

"We eat our goose three times a week.

"We eat Kentucky Fried Goose, curry goose, black bean sauce goose. We make pies out of them, satays, Greek yiros."

When the horizon grew distinct they pointed across the swamp to a distant line of trees. That was the former Marrakai Hunting Reserve which became Djukbinj National Park in 1997. They could no longer hunt there. They spoke longingly of the wide open spaces.

"When the flock comes you lose the sun," Mr Geranis said.

Meanwhile, an invasive feral grass was threatening Harrison Dam. It had already wrapped around the trunks of the paperbarks where they stood.

"Without this dam there's not much to shoot at," Mr Geranis said.

"They want to close the reserves for tourists to take photos. They don't want sightseers to see the animals dying.

"The way things are going we'll be stuck to the house boundary and 50 metres off the highway.

"We live on a continent and they give us 2,000 square metres to hunt.

"Because we own guns we're criminals."

The mosquitoes did not bother the hunters so much as the white and red lights of vehicles bouncing along the road by the water's edge. They feared the new arrivals would cramp their style.

A shot rang out from an adjacent stand of trees. Then two more in quick succession. Then a fourth.

The geese were coming. The men drew them closer, honking on bird callers shaped like sawn-off recorders. Their dark shapes wheeled in the open wetlands. Each time a bird flew towards the hunters it would veer away before coming within shotgun range.

One of the hunters ducked out from under the tree. Fired twice. A three-kilo goose fell from the sky like a broken umbrella.

That morning the men bagged 10 birds - below the quota of 10 per person.

With the sun well above the horizon they packed away the decoys, hauled the sleds onto dry land and cut the breast and leg meat from the animals.

After they left a dozen hawks descended on the carcasses.