KEEPING ducks alive and finding enlightenment is a matter of going by the book, says GREG CLARKE

You might remember from last month that we - me, my wife Jodi and our two young girls - have recently embarked on a wildly fragile plan to farm and process ducks.

Already, however, there is some cheer to share. We no longer stink. We have managed to wash away the rank legacy of being confined in a car with shitting ducks for the good part of a hot September day. And in what might be another miracle, we have also managed to stumble onto the path of enlightenment.

Revolutionary awareness can only come from one source - self-help books. While keeping the western world from dystopia, the kings and queens of the genre have built empires that far exceed our modest duck dreams.

We have no moral objection to topping up such wealth and have acquired two vitally important titles.

While their value to humankind is incalculable, it's understandable that you may not have heard of these - Storey's Guide to Raising Ducks by Dave Holderread and The Domestic Duck by Chris and Mike Ashton, two books which can make anyone from Deepak Chopra to Stephen Covey look as doltish and unimportant as Kyle Sandilands.

There is, however, an initial fault in these illuminating books. You will find, as we did, that a panicked check of the contents will turn up nothing with the title How to Keep Ducks Alive. When it occurs to you that a proper read of the index will be beneficial, you will find some rather useful chapters: can I suggest Rearing Ducklings - from Storey's work - is an ideal place to start.

"To thrive," writes Holderread, ducklings must have a constant supply of drinking water . . . To lessen the possibility of ducklings choking to death, the water should be deep enough to allow them to submerge their bills and dislodge particles of food that frequently become stuck in their throats . . . sufficient receptacles should be provided so that their contents are not quickly exhausted and the ducklings left without water."

That asphyxiation is lurking has us on edge. Our recently completed duck shed (stage one), built from recycled timber and tin, has no access to constant water.

Not yet anyway. We are worried about the down-covered ducks, which fit comfortably in the palm of our hand, drowning in the water troughs we plan to install. So we have opted for a hastily acquired shallow bowl - the amount of water in it might just as easily evaporate before the ducks drink its contents.

Jodi spends a good part of her day carting water and rehearsing what she might do if she happens upon a choking duck. You will not be surprised to learn that duck CPR is not her strong point.

Thankfully, one of the particular strengths I bring to the duck-farming business is the ability to phone our plumber. Ali is punctual for a tradie and he assures us Jodi will only have to cart water for a week.

When Ali arrives, the ducks have doubled in size on their commercial rations. Aside from keeping all the ducks alive, this is our first victory. Which is more good news. We want to impress Ali.

Not that he has revealed any lust for duck meat. We know that, much like duck shit, word has spread about the idiots on the hill who have sold their cows and calves and replaced them with ducks. Although we are in the middle of rich cattle country, there is good reason for adopting an intensive farming model.

Our original plans to become cattle barons were somewhat limited by our cattle station spreading over some 16 hectares.

Ali notes the weighty size of the ducklings. And the fact that we have separated the 30 birds into different pens. We will keep 22 breeders, we tell him. We will do our first processing trial on five males and three females (we bought 20 females and 10 males). We've separated them because we are going to trial different feeds and, constant water aside, we're feeling a little organised.

"Which are the males?" asks Ali non-plussed by our R&D foray. This question is impossibly unfair, far more complicated than it might appear.

"The ones with the blue bands on their feet," I tell him unconvincingly, self doubt obliterating the self-help-book-acquired assuredness. I want to tell Ali that even Holderread reckons sexing ducklings is difficult. But this is a deeply complicated topic. And at this point it doesn't seem appropriate to open a book.