Kevin Springman's question about rails brought back memories that I think may be of some interest. Mid to late sixties, I used to hunt with a friend who's wife was also a hunter. People say that if you can remember the sixties you weren't there but I remember this day. We were on the marsh across form Ocean City, NJ: a scorching September afternoon, all of us covered in mud and hung about with muddy rails. My friend shoots a Clapper that makes it to the middle of a waterway and is rapidly floating away on the tide. A dog , even the best trained, will drink the salt water in those hot conditions so we hunted dogless. Quick as lighting, this girl gets naked, not that she was wearing much anyway, charges into the water, swims like hell and returns with the dead rail in her teeth. Pretty soon we were all doubled over with laughter. Sadly time has done it's work, he was killed in the seventies and she was felled by her wild ways but I still smile when I'm reminded of rail hunting.
Nial
