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Discussion in 'Louisiana Flyway Forum' started by Engstfeld, May 29, 2018.
A bit dated, but interesting.
I think every word in that story is a scurrilous lie.
It's spot on.
That was a good read.
I grew up hunting in Cameron Parish in the early 70's. My Dad's best friend was his main hunting partner & his brother was the local game warden. Back then, tradition, definately superseded the Law....as the two brothers were violators, especially during duck season. They contended that ducks were an abundant resource, and that the Feds couldn't keep them from taking what was rightfully theirs. Basically the only thing they were against was wanton waste. They harvested as many ducks as they could, but only kept what was legal limit. The rest went the the poor of the parish......which, frankly seemed like the whole parish, as best as I could tell.
I'm sure many of those traditions still hold true today.
I moved to Camron Parish in the '80s, and even then a whole lot more "used to outlaw" than did. But the duck crunch of the late '80s spooked most of those who still were straight by graphically demonstrating that the supply really wasn't endless. Well, that, and having to go before federal magistrates for waterfowling violations, instead of your cousin, the local judge
Which isn't to say there aren't still some bungholes, just not remotely as many.
When I was a kid a buddy goose hunted with this old lawyer. He always had a backpack full of sanwiches and a folding shovel. One day some illegal geese and specks lit in the decoys. The lawyer told the kids to shoot the specks but of course the little outlaws smoked the illegal birds. They spotted a guy with a dog walking toward them from waaaaaay across the field. The lawyer got out his shovel and dug a hole, put the illegal birds in it and covered them up. And tore up ham sandwiches into little bits, scattering them all around. The guy walking up was the game warden, he checked the legal birds and put his lab on a search. The dog snuffled aimlessly around, scarfing up the sandwich bits, and ignoring his green jeaned master. The Warden, angered at his disobedient lab, yelled and snatched at the dog's collar not understanding what was wrong with his dog. He left, the dog didnt want to leave, it looked like they argued most way back to his truck. The lawyer dug the birds up and all laughed all the way back to camp.
I got checked by a green jean this weekend!
While fishing. First time ever while fishing. Just wanted to see what we had in the live well, licenses and PFDs. East Cote Blanche Bay. Not many reds right now...caught 4. Lots of lady/banana/slickfish though. And I'm guessing not many crabs either. First time ever....not a single crab trap in the bay.