Giles Watson's poetry and prose
Lobated Duck
Lobated Duck
For a naturalist, Archibald is a terrible shot;
one would think he missed deliberately.
All manner of ducks he sent up in flurries,
and not one feather dropped, until the lake
was flat and empty. Nothing stirred, but then
this great, squat lump, with an ugly wattle
under its bill, drifted out from the reeds,
ten feet away. Archie swallowed; I saw
his Adam’s apple twitch. With all of us
watching, he had no choice; even then
he fumbled loading, but it paddled closer,
point-blank, more or less, and that was
an end to it. Dredged onto the boat,
the stink hit us instantly. “Throw it back!”
someone bellowed, but Archibald would
have none of it. “Absolutely fascinating,”
he said, as the stench penetrated,
and all hands clapped handkerchiefs
to faces simultaneously. By God, you
would have shuddered to see the Cap’n’s
face turn thunder-coloured as Archie
lumped the thing aboard the Discovery,
and hardened seamen ducked for cover,
pinching their noses and retching. They say
the Cap’n’s steward will cook anything
and season it with weevils, but he took
one sniff and ran for it, and that night
it seemed even the salt beef had partaken
of the stench. Slops and sails stunk of it
for weeks - a rank funk of musk – but still
the skin is Archie’s prize possession:
hangs like murder just above his bunk.
Poem by Giles Watson, 2014. Picture: The Naturalist’s Miscellany, written by George Shaw and illustrated by Frederick Polydore Nodder, published in twenty-two volumes between 1789 and 1813, Volume 8. Archibald Menzies, naturalist and surgeon on Vancouver’s expedition, shot a Musk Duck on a lake (possibly Lake Seppings) near Albany, Western Australia. In Vancouver’s own words, “though ducks were in great numbers, we were very unsuccessful in taking them. A very peculiar one was shot, of a darkish grey plumage, with a bag like that of a lizard hanging under its throat, which smelt so intolerably of musk that it scented nearly the whole ship.” See Penny Olsen, Upside Down World: Early European Impressions of Australia’s Curious Animals, Canberra, 2010, p. 132.
Lobated Duck
Lobated Duck
For a naturalist, Archibald is a terrible shot;
one would think he missed deliberately.
All manner of ducks he sent up in flurries,
and not one feather dropped, until the lake
was flat and empty. Nothing stirred, but then
this great, squat lump, with an ugly wattle
under its bill, drifted out from the reeds,
ten feet away. Archie swallowed; I saw
his Adam’s apple twitch. With all of us
watching, he had no choice; even then
he fumbled loading, but it paddled closer,
point-blank, more or less, and that was
an end to it. Dredged onto the boat,
the stink hit us instantly. “Throw it back!”
someone bellowed, but Archibald would
have none of it. “Absolutely fascinating,”
he said, as the stench penetrated,
and all hands clapped handkerchiefs
to faces simultaneously. By God, you
would have shuddered to see the Cap’n’s
face turn thunder-coloured as Archie
lumped the thing aboard the Discovery,
and hardened seamen ducked for cover,
pinching their noses and retching. They say
the Cap’n’s steward will cook anything
and season it with weevils, but he took
one sniff and ran for it, and that night
it seemed even the salt beef had partaken
of the stench. Slops and sails stunk of it
for weeks - a rank funk of musk – but still
the skin is Archie’s prize possession:
hangs like murder just above his bunk.
Poem by Giles Watson, 2014. Picture: The Naturalist’s Miscellany, written by George Shaw and illustrated by Frederick Polydore Nodder, published in twenty-two volumes between 1789 and 1813, Volume 8. Archibald Menzies, naturalist and surgeon on Vancouver’s expedition, shot a Musk Duck on a lake (possibly Lake Seppings) near Albany, Western Australia. In Vancouver’s own words, “though ducks were in great numbers, we were very unsuccessful in taking them. A very peculiar one was shot, of a darkish grey plumage, with a bag like that of a lizard hanging under its throat, which smelt so intolerably of musk that it scented nearly the whole ship.” See Penny Olsen, Upside Down World: Early European Impressions of Australia’s Curious Animals, Canberra, 2010, p. 132.