The Duck World Loses a Giant - Art Hawkins Dies at 92

I wish every duck hunter on the continent could have met Art Hawkins. 

You would have liked him.

Art died early last March doing what he loved most: watching the first ducks and geese arriving back on the breeding grounds. When his daughter Amy found him, he was sitting at the edge of the pond behind his Hugo, Minnesota home, the familiar walking sticks in his hands and field glasses hanging from his neck.

Art loved watching birds, but he wasn’t just a casual observer. He was one of the pioneers responsible for creating the grand-daddy of all bird-watching events, the May Waterfowl Breeding Population and Habitat Survey.

According to the US Fish and Wildlife Service, the breeding population survey celebrated its 50th birthday last year, but Art knew better.   Such an elaborate undertaking didn’t happen overnight, and Art used a whitepaper written last summer to amend the official record to reveal, “The birthplace of this historic achievement was the Delta Waterfowl Research Station, and the birth date was May 25, 1946.”

That’s the day Art sat down with Delta Waterfowl’s Al Hochbaum, Peter Ward and Lyle Sowles, and Fish and Wildlife pilot-biologist Bob Smith, to begin hammering out the details for what would become the most exhaustive wildlife inventory on earth.

Art told me the whole fascinating story when I spent some time with him and Betty, his lovely wife of 64 years, at their rustic pond-side home just north of the Twin Cities. 

The house is a treasure trove of waterfowling memorabilia, and Art was a walking museum of scientific lore.  Despite his age—he was 92 when he died—Art could recall names and dates associated with events from half a century ago better than most of us can remember what we had for breakfast.  His memory was nearly flawless.

And what memories he had.

Not only was he responsible for the breeding population survey, he and long-time friend Dr. Frank Bellrose—who died a year earlier at age 88—initiated the research that led to the recovery of wood duck populations. 

But it’s not Art the biologist I wish you could have met, it was Art the man.  He was one of the most genuine individuals I’ve ever known.  His passion for waterfowl was contagious; his determination to make the world a better place unwavering.  It was impossible to spend five minutes at the Hawkins’ kitchen table without being inspired to rush out and save a wetland or erect a wood duck box.

Art didn’t take anything at face value.  He challenged Delta on the issue of predator control for years, demanding scientific proof of its efficacy as a management tool.  Only after many visits, letters and phone calls did he endorse predator management.

Earning Art’s respect was a labor of love for everyone at Delta. 

Hardly a day goes by when I don’t miss him, or think about picking up the phone to give him a call.

It’s no secret Delta has been an agent for change, challenging the status quo and searching for innovative news ways to meet our duck-production goals.  Change can be a lonely road, and whenever it felt like we were walking that road alone, Art was always there to pick us up. 

“You’re not crazy,” he’d tell me, “it’s just that the system doesn’t like change.  It’s always been that way.  You guys are right…you hang in there and keep fighting.”              

Those were marching orders, and we intend to carry them out.

We owe him that.