Photo by Kenny Bahr

Daylight was coming quickly now, and with it came the promise of another clear, cold January morning of duck hunting on the mighty Mississippi River. The damp, penetrating chill of the morning air made me pull up the collar of my goose down jacket as I launched the decoy-laden duck boat into the dark muddy water of Grand Gulf Boat Landing near Port Gibson.

My hunting partners for the morning were Desten Segrest and David Strittman, both experienced waterfowlers on the "Father of Waters." Accompanying us on our adventure would be their two well-trained chocolate labs -- Lexie and Beau. A good retriever is invaluable when hunting the big river, and we were fortunate to have two of the finest duck dogs in southwest Mississippi.

Desten fired up the big Mercury outboard and directed the bow of the boat toward the main channel of the river. Just as we approached the swift flowing current of the Mississippi, he suddenly killed the engine.

"What's the matter?" I asked, hoping we had not encountered a mechanical problem in the pre-dawn darkness.

"Nothing", he replied, "I just want to check and make sure a barge isn't coming down the river before we cross."

We listened intently into the darkness for the tell-tale rumbling of the many barges that carry their goods both north and south. No big diesel engines could be heard on this particular morning, only the gurgling of the giant whirlpools as they passed us on their way downstream.

The half-mile boat ride across the big river seemed to take an eternity. And the freezing North wind combined with the icy spray created by the boat's wake only compounded our discomfort.

As we approached the western bank of the Mississippi, Desten guided our boat into a pocket of "slack" water on the southwest corner of Middle Ground Island, an isle created when Old Man River decided to change its course. Several pockets of still water and numerous mud and sand bars on the backside of the island offered migrating waterfowl excellent places to raft up and rest out of the swift currents of the Mississippi.

Working quickly, Desten and I slid the boat into a patch of flooded willows and assembled the pop-up boat blind as David set out our rather large decoy spread.

"You think four dozen decoys is enough?" David asked laughingly.

"Probably not, but since that's all we have, it will just have to do", Desten responded. "Now switch on that Mojo Floater and let's get in the boat! It shouldn't be long before the ducks will be here!"

No sooner had the three of us settled into the comfort of the well disguised pop-up boat blind, than the first flight of mallards approached. Lexie and Beau simultaneously came to attention and stared anxiously skyward at the incoming flock.

"Here they come!" David whispered excitedly.

The first flock circled over our spread with a bit of uncertainty. After all, late season ducks are hard to fool. They have seen about every trick in the book on their long journey south. We began begging them back with light come back calls and before we knew it we had a dozen orange feet right in our face.

"Take 'em boys!" Desten shouted.

We proceeded to fill the sky with steel shot as the ducks frantically flared and darted in all directions in a vain attempt to escape our ambush. We were able to bring down a total of five greenheads with that first volley.