Jeff McAllister and his son Austin head in from an evening hunt on the Mississippi Sound with a mixed bag of redheads and greater scaup. Photo by Capt. Robert Brodie.

Stiff southeast winds had turned the Mississippi Sound into a froth of whitecaps, overcast skies giving an eerie look to the early-morning rays of sunlight just appearing on the horizon. With such rough conditions in the open water, we decided to conduct our morning hunt along the shoreline.

Here, we set out our large set of 100-plus decoys strategically in four long parallel lines designed to leave landing zones for interested ducks as well as shooting lanes for low incoming birds. Our intended quarry: diving ducks, it being the big crimson-headed redheads that we most desired. We simply lay down flat on the marsh, remaining motionless, eyes scanning for any sort of movement either high in the sky or just above the water's surface. Our guest on this outing was Randy Patrolia of Hattiesburg.

The morning started off extremely slowly, a few birds working the horizon while shorebirds and mergansers caused neck-wrenching false alarms. However, since our focus was mainly on bagging a couple of trophy redheads, we knew to remain patient, especially late into the morning.

Right at 10:00 a.m., we stood to stretch our legs. Behind us, framed against the sun on a large sandbar covered with huge white pelicans, hundreds of shorebirds kept lifting up into the air and then quickly setting back down. However, one glance back toward the birds left us caught off guard.

At first, what was coming toward us from the land over the sand spit didn't register -- but then we realized that a huge flock of redheads was approaching from behind, coming out of the sun. Needless to say, it was a mad scramble back into the prone position. Although the redheads had to have seen us getting into position, it didn't matter to them: They made one big circle out in front of us as my son-in-law Van Clark and I hit the calls hard. The ducks banked instantly, pitching directly toward our decoy spread.

The 50-plus birds zeroed in on the bobbing decoys with reckless abandon, wings back, breasts exposed, feet dangling; the moment of truth had arrived. Patrolia rose first, eyes focused on the big dark-headed drakes. His shots were true, sending two heavy redheads crashing into the sound.

As I rose, ducks were still taking wing, offering skeet-like shots as they rose out of the decoys in all directions, and soon two more birds splashed down into the salty water. Our patience had paid off, and the late-morning flight of redheads had delivered another magnificent shotgunning memory.

A VAST SOUND
The Mississippi Sound is an extremely large body of water running approximately 60 miles in length and bordering the entire Mississippi coast from the Louisiana border to the state line with Alabama. To the south it is separated from the Gulf of Mexico by Mississippi's barrier islands: east to west, Petit Bois, Horn, East Ship, West Ship and Cat.

Though, speaking historically, few dyed-in-the wool diving-duck hunters work the Mississippi Sound, this massive body of saltwater is the wintering grounds to thousands upon thousands of the birds. Redheads, buffleheads, lesser scaup, greater scaup, canvasbacks, and sea ducks like scoters and oldsquaws all use these southern waters as their wintertime haven. However, puddle ducks like mallards, gadwalls, widgeon and shovelers can be taken on the sound at times, while both blue- and green-wing teal frequent the shoreline marsh areas.