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Bonecollecter1111 I like that picture with guys around the back of the pickup with all those birds.

The Waterfowler wrote:The Glory Days. At least to me it was. Beaver Dam in the early 70's. Buck brush, saw-grass and button willows made this a duck haven with so many hidey holes, not to mention hallowed ground like Round Pond, Doc's Pool, The Teal Hole, Usery Pocket, The Hanwerker Stand and others. I feel blessed to have been a part of the times I had down there. Whether hunting ducks, frogs or squirrels or fishing for crappie, bass and bluegill each outing was a memory I'll cherish. This picture was taken on the old dock before high water washed it away. A new one was built and named after Dr. Andrews. This was in 1971. Notice our camo and our footwear. No Gortex, thinsulate, brush-buster clad neopreme waders, Mossy Oak or Real Tree. It was wool, long-johns, canvas coats or U.S. Army surplus to thwart the cold.

We shot the north end, either Doc's Pool or Round Pond this morning.



For you duck band junkies, this band was given to me By Doc shortly before he passed away. It was the first Black Duck he killed as a youngster hunting at Beaver Dam with his Dad. This was before the USF&W was ever pirinted on the bands and the U.S. Biological Survey did the banding. This bird was banded in 1936 and Dr. Andrews killed it in 1939 and before anyone cries foul, the May date was when Doc reported it and is what showed up on the file. He killed it in January he said. I had the certificate re-issued by a friend that works at the bird banding lab. The original one is somewhere in the several hundred scrap-books Doc had. I haven't seen another one like this one.

That bird was baned on my old stomping grounds. I use to hunt grass island all the time

This is my favorite thread. Mr. Pat should write a book. More stories please.

How about a list of topics upon which to hear the Waterfowler speak:

- best retrieve by a dog
- best/worst cold weather MS hunt
- best/worst opening morning
- best/worst closing morning

Please give us some more tells to hold us over until the season gets here...thanks

Henna Sag, i bet you do, you were there, best part was when 7 hunters showed up, and one smart booty said if we limited out he would carry all the birds out, and then he did. i thought the poor guy was die by the time he had walked the half mile back to the four wheelers, wish i coulda got a pic of that cuz you couldn't see anything but a head pokin outta a buncha ducks.

for all those that need a reminder of why we do what we do, http://kimbroughkorner.shutterfly.com, your welcome to see my pics.

and please Mr Pat, keep the pics/stories coming

The best and worst opening/closing days is near impossible as there has been so many and mostly best. Suffice to say every moring is the best and every closing is the saddest. I'll have to think on those for a while.

Retrieves have been many and I've been blessed with some good, if not great, dogs. All have retrieved into the thousands for me and my friends and each one has given his all for me and asked little in return.

My favorite Chesapeake, Jake, made one heart stopper once on the Mississippi River in the early 70's shortly after I moved to Memphis. Jake traveled with me to Alaska, Texas and many states in between, retrieving over 8,000 ducks and geese in the process. On a cold January morning a friend and I took a boat below West Memphis that we used to cross a chute to Cat Island where we beached it and then hunted a willow flat at the tip of the island next to the main channel. It was a low water year and we had to carry decoys quite a ways to the switch willow flat. Ducks loved the back-water eddy with the protection and cover the willows offered. We shot many a limit there in the good old days of the point system. Ruff stands were a thing of the future and I put Jake where-ever I could to keep him mostly out of the water. I ended up finding a log jam I could get the dog on and we set up at first light. River ducks were best for us at sun-up and it was a cold wait till they really started moving. A few early arrivals died and then a big group of Mallards made a pass and hooked to us. These birds usually worked quickly there and they fell in the hole and it was game on. Tom doubled and so did I. Both of mine dead and one of Tom's crippled. Jake focused on the cripple flopping through the willows and went after it first. It quickly made the river's edge and got in the current. I waded as far as I could to try and kill it but to no avail. By the time I got to the river side of the willow flat Jake was 100 yards out and going down current. The duck would dive then come up and flop accross the water which made it impossible for me to call the dog off. The speck in the river was my dog and getting farther away with each moment. Our boat was a quarter mile away and of little help. The sick feeling I got was beyond description. All I could do was say a little prayer and kick myself for sending him without anchoring the cripple. I immediately lost interest in killing any more ducks and continued to stare down river. It seemed like hours, but some 30-45 minuted later I looked accross the chute and there came Jake up the bank carrying the Greenhead. I sat down on the whistle and he swam the couple hundred yards back to the bar and delivered the still struggling cripple to me. I just stood there while he took a roll in the sand then headed back to the log-jam for another go at finishing our limit. Looking back I hardly remember the rest of the day's events as I was just happy to have him back at my side. My log says we came out with 8 Greenheads and a couple Teal, but that one Mallard Drake will be etched in my mind for a long time.

Damn I could feel a pit in my stomach as I read that................awesome Pat thanks

Now that Dog had heart, i have hunted behind some good dogs, but very few with that kind of heart and drive. i think thats what makes the differance between a good dog and a great dog, no matter what the dogs skill level

I love the stories but it is depressing to read about these awesome waterfowling seasons that will probably never materialize for younger guys in Mississippi. It is the same with wild quail hunting in Georgia. Hallowed hunting grounds have been consumed by suburbia...

Jake was special, but all my dogs have been. A big, rugged Chessy by the great FC AFC Baron's Tule Tiger. He could mark 5 or 6 falls easily and was as determined as me in recovering birds. Once in Alaska while hunting on the Bering Sea coast on a spit between the mainland and the ocean he got caught up in a rip current and it was almost an hour before we could get the boat and get to him while he swam in almost the same spot and never dropped the duck. Very tired but never quit.

I've given away and sold dogs that were better than most peoples, but they didn't fit my personality. I have to have a dog that can go day in and day out wheather retrieving for just me or a group. When Chris Akin called and said he had found a psycopath retriever that fit my personality I quickly bought Ace and he has been just what the doctor ordered for the past 7 years. I dread the day when he is gone.

Jake was special, but all my dogs have been. A big, rugged Chessy by the great FC AFC Baron's Tule Tiger. He could mark 5 or 6 falls easily and was as determined as me in recovering birds. Once in Alaska while hunting on the Bering Sea coast on a spit between the mainland and the ocean he got caught up in a rip current and it was almost an hour before we could get the boat and get to him while he swam in almost the same spot and never dropped the duck. Very tired but never quit.

I've given away and sold dogs that were better than most peoples, but they didn't fit my personality. I have to have a dog that can go day in and day out wheather retrieving for just me or a group. When Chris Akin called and said he had found a psycopath retriever that fit my personality I quickly bought Ace and he has been just what the doctor ordered for the past 7 years. I dread the day when he is gone.

Jake died unexpectedly one evening shortly after Gail and I married and I found him in his kennel when I went to feed. Gail knew the heart-break I was having and helped me load him in my truck and told me to do what I needed to do for him. I drove him to Arkansas and went through a cable into Wappanocca NWR(hope the statute of limitations is up, may need GG if not) and buried him near their observation tower so he could have birds fly over him each season. Was hard digging a grave in the dark with tears in my eyes and I still give thanks each time I go up I-55 and see the refuge for being blessed with such a good dog. He and I logged a lot of miles and memories together.

Jake and I in the Texas Panhandle.

love that pic of you an jake, that in classic waterfowler form. if i can find'm, i got a coupla real good ones of you and stephen from my last trip up to shoot geese.

Waterfowler,

What would be your most memorable hunt?

On page 4 I wrote about my most memorable hunt, my last one with Dr. Andrews. Not all hunts are about numbers, but I've been on some incredible hunts in some incredible places in my years of waterfowling. I've been both lucky and blessed. I've shared blinds with good friends and good dogs, many of which are gone now but I cherish their memories.