trophy/man rooms?
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lipsplitter39654
- Duck South Addict
- Posts: 1546
- Joined: Tue Aug 15, 2006 4:21 pm
Re: trophy/man rooms?
wow that is amazing.......
"Life is tough, life is even tougher if you're stupid" John Wayne
"Forgive and forget; but always remember." Jack Miner
"Forgive and forget; but always remember." Jack Miner
Re: trophy/man rooms?
ya'll get him to tell you about the maine eider hunt that i think occurred the same year as the "perfect storm" (which eventually became a movie - the storm, not the hunt, though it would suffice).
go on, someone ask him.........
one of, if not the best perks of the LLDC (besides the hunting of course) is getting to camp on a tuesday early enough (and, given there isn't a tennessee game on) and catching a story or two. there ain't so much commotion and pat has time to go into a good amount of detail.....
the mounts you see are one thing, but the stories that pat's got to share are a whole 'nuter ball of wax.....and, one i truly appreciate.
oh, and pat, you might as well tell em about the spectacled eider hunt..............and the harlie's on the little raspberry......maybe a hunt or two that you and dr. andrews had at beaver dam.........and..................and........................well, ya'll get the picture.
gator
go on, someone ask him.........
one of, if not the best perks of the LLDC (besides the hunting of course) is getting to camp on a tuesday early enough (and, given there isn't a tennessee game on) and catching a story or two. there ain't so much commotion and pat has time to go into a good amount of detail.....
the mounts you see are one thing, but the stories that pat's got to share are a whole 'nuter ball of wax.....and, one i truly appreciate.
oh, and pat, you might as well tell em about the spectacled eider hunt..............and the harlie's on the little raspberry......maybe a hunt or two that you and dr. andrews had at beaver dam.........and..................and........................well, ya'll get the picture.
gator
HRCH Eight Gauge - Gauge (see you on the bridge buddy)
HRCH Eight Gauge's Mountain Man - Trapper
HRCH Eight Gauge's Mountain Man - Trapper
Re: trophy/man rooms?
are you referring to dr andrews as in the famous dr andrews?
pat i got hear the story bout the perfect storm hunt.. i love that movie.. i've seen it too many times to count and everytime its on hbo or something like that i always stop and watch it for a while...
pat i got hear the story bout the perfect storm hunt.. i love that movie.. i've seen it too many times to count and everytime its on hbo or something like that i always stop and watch it for a while...
"Ya ever work beef Billy?"
Re: trophy/man rooms?
pat if you'll tell that story i'll tell you bout the time i shcit myself in askew bottom... 
i love this site....
i love this site....
"Ya ever work beef Billy?"
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H20fowlkiller
- Duck South Addict
- Posts: 1956
- Joined: Wed Dec 20, 2006 2:57 pm
- Location: Pascagoula, MS
Re: trophy/man rooms?
gator wrote:ya'll get him to tell you about the maine eider hunt that i think occurred the same year as the "perfect storm" (which eventually became a movie - the storm, not the hunt, though it would suffice).
go on, someone ask him.........
one of, if not the best perks of the LLDC (besides the hunting of course) is getting to camp on a tuesday early enough (and, given there isn't a tennessee game on) and catching a story or two. there ain't so much commotion and pat has time to go into a good amount of detail.....
the mounts you see are one thing, but the stories that pat's got to share are a whole 'nuter ball of wax.....and, one i truly appreciate.
oh, and pat, you might as well tell em about the spectacled eider hunt..............and the harlie's on the little raspberry......maybe a hunt or two that you and dr. andrews had at beaver dam.........and..................and........................well, ya'll get the picture.
gator
Ok ill bite tell us about it pat...
this makes me wonder if we couldnt get a story telling thread. We have some great writers(gator, missed mallards just off the top of my head) on here and i know theres even more with great stories to tell
anyone else for a story forum?
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The Waterfowler
- Veteran
- Posts: 803
- Joined: Mon Mar 07, 2005 2:47 pm
- Location: olive branch, ms.
- Contact:
Re: trophy/man rooms?
It's a little lengthy, but here goes.
I recruited 7 of my friends to take an Eider hunt in Maine in late January after the season was over down here. We hunted with Coastal Maine Outfitters when Joe Lucey ran the operation and were treated like kings at his lodge which was an 18th century barn that had been converted to a lodge. I can still remember seeing the 2 foot square beams in the sleeping lofts and marveled at what it took to fell and hew the logs that made this building. The hunting was good as shooting Eiders is more of an execution that a hunt and we all enjoyed the endless lobsters and prime rib that we were fed. I had a cross section of guys with us from dentists and doctors to rice farmers and taxidermists. The first two days were perfect with gunning from the ledges exactly what I had experienced from past trips and the FNG's thought it grand to shoot our then 7 bird limits.
The evening before day 3 found all of us having a sundowner in front of the spacious fireplace reliving the day and wondering what the po' folks were doing. Joe came in and told us that dinner was ready and we all headed for the dining room. Joe then stopped me and said that some pretty good weather was headed in and by good meant the exact opposite of what you'd think. He called it a Noreaster in his Maine accent and it didn't sound all that bad. I gave the guy the choice at dinner to rabbit hunt on land or take our chances with the weather the next morning. Well, we hadn't come that far to shoot rabbits, we could do that at home and not having to walk much either. The weatherman predicted it should move through fast and be out of the area by mid-morning. As I remember that was famous last words.
The next morning was quite brisk with fresh snow and a driving wind. We left Belfast on a 42 foot crewboat at first light riding the tide to a distant speck on the radar called Butter Island. This was quite a hike and the farthest we had traveled in our 3 days of hunting. Joe and his assistant guide surmised we'd ride the falling tide out which was pretty smooth in spite of the building wind, drop the hook behind Butter Island, eat lunch then hunt the incoming tide which would be optimal conditions.
We made good time and arrived about 10:30 a.m. and anchored in a lee and opened lunch. They fed us well and I still remember the homemade cream puffs as delicious but remember them more from what was to come later. The boat Captain had just completed his Captain's test and graduated from boat-driving school and it was his first day to Captain this boat. I should have expected something like this when I first met him at daylight instead of the boat pilot we had had the first two days.
The radio chatter began to get more interesting as gale warnings were posted along with small boat advisories. This is when I found out what is a small boat and what's not. The snow had become a near white-out condition and reports on the weather radio indicated the front had run head-long into a stationary low and thing were about to get dicey. In fact the wind had picked up to where we were no longer in protected water and the hook was starting to drag on the bottom and we couldn't get it to bite. The Captain and 1st mate made the decision to pull anchor and head in. I was videoing all this and we all though it was something they saw every day. Not hardly.
As we turned tail to the Atlantic and ran into the teeth of the storm it became evident the party was over. We were in 8 foot seas and they were increasing as waves started to break over the bow as we rose out of a swell and soon were crashing into the pilot house. The windshield wipers quickly iced up and then broke off. The first mate and I were both in the pilot house and Captain Jim suggested I go below to the galley with everyone else. It didn't take long for me to forget that, remember the cream puffs? They didn't look near as good when they were coming up as they did when they went down. All 9 down below were in various stages of chumming and I got topside to avoid joining the crowd. Only 3 of us weren't seasick.
Progress was painfully slow as we powered up the waves and throttled down falling off. Wind was hitting 70 knots. Watching the radar scope it seemed like the blips of land were so far away and not getting much closer either. Then the screen went blank. It took us a few minutes to realize what happened. The radar dome was iced over so thick that it couldn't see ahead, just behind. In the middle of all of this contact had been made with the Rockport Coast Guard by the Captain. We were also getting top heavy from the ice build-up in deck. As we sank in the troughs in now 12 footers we wallowed and the Captain was beginning to worry we'd roll over. Ice on the rails and everything else was over 4 inches thick and coated everything metal. The mate and I got a couple of mop handles and tied a life-line to us and got on deck. We slipped and slid on the pitching deck and broke ice off everything we could safely reach. Knocking ice off the radar dome restored that at least temporairly. The two 16 foot tend boats strapped to the aft deck were now icebergs with no hope of breaking any of it loose. Upon returning to the pilot house I caught a conversation with the CG that really put things into perspective. "Rockport Coast Guard, Rockport Coast Guard, this is the M/V Quickwater 10 miles NNW of Butter Island and working hard". "Quickwater, Quickwater, this is Rockport Coast Guard, advise how many souls on board, over". It wasn't fun any more. All planes were grounded and we were on our own except for our radio contact. Survival suits were broken out. Yes, things had just gotten serious.
Two more trips ropped together on deck kept most of the ice at bay and our radar operating. Visibility was less than 50 feet. Capt. Jim had cut toward Smith Island and we finally got into a lee and dropped the hook which held. We spent long enough to break more ice and make sure everyone was Ok and all was battened down then made a run for the mainland. I've got to admit we tested every rivet on the boat as we pounded toward land and racing darkness. Finally the welcome lights of a small harbor were visible as we neared a safe haven. We were physically and mentally exhausted and sore from bouncing off everything in the pilot house. Joe's wife and another Suburban had drive some 3 hours to pick us up as we were nowhere near Belfast, but glad to be somewhere besides on board the boat.
We laughed, albeit uneasily, about this later but in all honesty it could have been tragic if not for a little luck and divine guidance. I periodically watch the video that I copied and sent to everyone that made the trip and I even sent one to the Captain. Some time later I received a package in the mail. Inside was an M/V Quickwater hat from Capt. Jim. I look at it from time to time and offer a little thanks to the Big Guy that watches us duck hunters when we do less than smart things.
I recruited 7 of my friends to take an Eider hunt in Maine in late January after the season was over down here. We hunted with Coastal Maine Outfitters when Joe Lucey ran the operation and were treated like kings at his lodge which was an 18th century barn that had been converted to a lodge. I can still remember seeing the 2 foot square beams in the sleeping lofts and marveled at what it took to fell and hew the logs that made this building. The hunting was good as shooting Eiders is more of an execution that a hunt and we all enjoyed the endless lobsters and prime rib that we were fed. I had a cross section of guys with us from dentists and doctors to rice farmers and taxidermists. The first two days were perfect with gunning from the ledges exactly what I had experienced from past trips and the FNG's thought it grand to shoot our then 7 bird limits.
The evening before day 3 found all of us having a sundowner in front of the spacious fireplace reliving the day and wondering what the po' folks were doing. Joe came in and told us that dinner was ready and we all headed for the dining room. Joe then stopped me and said that some pretty good weather was headed in and by good meant the exact opposite of what you'd think. He called it a Noreaster in his Maine accent and it didn't sound all that bad. I gave the guy the choice at dinner to rabbit hunt on land or take our chances with the weather the next morning. Well, we hadn't come that far to shoot rabbits, we could do that at home and not having to walk much either. The weatherman predicted it should move through fast and be out of the area by mid-morning. As I remember that was famous last words.
The next morning was quite brisk with fresh snow and a driving wind. We left Belfast on a 42 foot crewboat at first light riding the tide to a distant speck on the radar called Butter Island. This was quite a hike and the farthest we had traveled in our 3 days of hunting. Joe and his assistant guide surmised we'd ride the falling tide out which was pretty smooth in spite of the building wind, drop the hook behind Butter Island, eat lunch then hunt the incoming tide which would be optimal conditions.
We made good time and arrived about 10:30 a.m. and anchored in a lee and opened lunch. They fed us well and I still remember the homemade cream puffs as delicious but remember them more from what was to come later. The boat Captain had just completed his Captain's test and graduated from boat-driving school and it was his first day to Captain this boat. I should have expected something like this when I first met him at daylight instead of the boat pilot we had had the first two days.
The radio chatter began to get more interesting as gale warnings were posted along with small boat advisories. This is when I found out what is a small boat and what's not. The snow had become a near white-out condition and reports on the weather radio indicated the front had run head-long into a stationary low and thing were about to get dicey. In fact the wind had picked up to where we were no longer in protected water and the hook was starting to drag on the bottom and we couldn't get it to bite. The Captain and 1st mate made the decision to pull anchor and head in. I was videoing all this and we all though it was something they saw every day. Not hardly.
As we turned tail to the Atlantic and ran into the teeth of the storm it became evident the party was over. We were in 8 foot seas and they were increasing as waves started to break over the bow as we rose out of a swell and soon were crashing into the pilot house. The windshield wipers quickly iced up and then broke off. The first mate and I were both in the pilot house and Captain Jim suggested I go below to the galley with everyone else. It didn't take long for me to forget that, remember the cream puffs? They didn't look near as good when they were coming up as they did when they went down. All 9 down below were in various stages of chumming and I got topside to avoid joining the crowd. Only 3 of us weren't seasick.
Progress was painfully slow as we powered up the waves and throttled down falling off. Wind was hitting 70 knots. Watching the radar scope it seemed like the blips of land were so far away and not getting much closer either. Then the screen went blank. It took us a few minutes to realize what happened. The radar dome was iced over so thick that it couldn't see ahead, just behind. In the middle of all of this contact had been made with the Rockport Coast Guard by the Captain. We were also getting top heavy from the ice build-up in deck. As we sank in the troughs in now 12 footers we wallowed and the Captain was beginning to worry we'd roll over. Ice on the rails and everything else was over 4 inches thick and coated everything metal. The mate and I got a couple of mop handles and tied a life-line to us and got on deck. We slipped and slid on the pitching deck and broke ice off everything we could safely reach. Knocking ice off the radar dome restored that at least temporairly. The two 16 foot tend boats strapped to the aft deck were now icebergs with no hope of breaking any of it loose. Upon returning to the pilot house I caught a conversation with the CG that really put things into perspective. "Rockport Coast Guard, Rockport Coast Guard, this is the M/V Quickwater 10 miles NNW of Butter Island and working hard". "Quickwater, Quickwater, this is Rockport Coast Guard, advise how many souls on board, over". It wasn't fun any more. All planes were grounded and we were on our own except for our radio contact. Survival suits were broken out. Yes, things had just gotten serious.
Two more trips ropped together on deck kept most of the ice at bay and our radar operating. Visibility was less than 50 feet. Capt. Jim had cut toward Smith Island and we finally got into a lee and dropped the hook which held. We spent long enough to break more ice and make sure everyone was Ok and all was battened down then made a run for the mainland. I've got to admit we tested every rivet on the boat as we pounded toward land and racing darkness. Finally the welcome lights of a small harbor were visible as we neared a safe haven. We were physically and mentally exhausted and sore from bouncing off everything in the pilot house. Joe's wife and another Suburban had drive some 3 hours to pick us up as we were nowhere near Belfast, but glad to be somewhere besides on board the boat.
We laughed, albeit uneasily, about this later but in all honesty it could have been tragic if not for a little luck and divine guidance. I periodically watch the video that I copied and sent to everyone that made the trip and I even sent one to the Captain. Some time later I received a package in the mail. Inside was an M/V Quickwater hat from Capt. Jim. I look at it from time to time and offer a little thanks to the Big Guy that watches us duck hunters when we do less than smart things.
Last edited by The Waterfowler on Tue May 12, 2009 3:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Helping ducks have a bad day since 1961.
http://www.getducks.com
www.thewaterfowlerjournal.com
We hunt the World!
http://www.getducks.com
www.thewaterfowlerjournal.com
We hunt the World!
Re: trophy/man rooms?
This thread is awesome...Anyone have the link to the fuge forums thread ya'll talking about?
Never mind, I found it, and just spent 4 hrs reading it and drooling on my keyboard......Words don't describe....
Never mind, I found it, and just spent 4 hrs reading it and drooling on my keyboard......Words don't describe....
Last edited by pstone on Thu May 07, 2009 3:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
GRENADA MAFIA
Re: trophy/man rooms?
my spenter quivered a little as i read that.. defenilty more exciting than me schittng myself in askew....
"Ya ever work beef Billy?"
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H20fowlkiller
- Duck South Addict
- Posts: 1956
- Joined: Wed Dec 20, 2006 2:57 pm
- Location: Pascagoula, MS
Re: trophy/man rooms?
awesome story pat glad everyone was ok.
How long was that total excursion?
How long was that total excursion?
Re: trophy/man rooms?
Man that's gotta be the craziest duck hunting story I've heard. Write a book full of stories like that, and I'll buy 2...
GRENADA MAFIA
Re: trophy/man rooms?
TOLD YA'LL.
gator
gator
HRCH Eight Gauge - Gauge (see you on the bridge buddy)
HRCH Eight Gauge's Mountain Man - Trapper
HRCH Eight Gauge's Mountain Man - Trapper
Re: trophy/man rooms?
Re-enacting the "Edmund Fitzgerald" instead of rabbit hunting? What's not to like?
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the doctor
- Duck South Addict
- Posts: 3999
- Joined: Wed Jan 16, 2002 1:01 am
- Location: merigold
Re: trophy/man rooms?
Hmmm, bad weather coming let me take these guys further out than we've been all week and oh yeah I know I'll get a rookie captain...
sound like he might have had in for you guys...JK
good story
the doc
sound like he might have had in for you guys...JK
good story
the doc
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The Waterfowler
- Veteran
- Posts: 803
- Joined: Mon Mar 07, 2005 2:47 pm
- Location: olive branch, ms.
- Contact:
Re: trophy/man rooms?
H20fowlkiller wrote:awesome story pat glad everyone was ok.
How long was that total excursion?
We left Belfast at first light and got back to the mainland at dark:15. Almost 12 hours. It's hard to describe the pounding we took. I'm going to find the video and show it to my camp members. It got way past rough to keep filming as it was all I could do to hold on. I still have a friend I hunt with in Arkansas who went that still gets queezy crossing a ricefield.
Helping ducks have a bad day since 1961.
http://www.getducks.com
www.thewaterfowlerjournal.com
We hunt the World!
http://www.getducks.com
www.thewaterfowlerjournal.com
We hunt the World!
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