By Dave Hurteau & Chad Love

From The Roanoke Times:
Barnes, a 63-year-old Chesapeake, Va., telephone contractor, apparently shattered the state striper record with a 73-pound giant caught near the 4A Buoy off Cape Henry.

Clay Armstrong currently holds the record for a 68 pound, 1 ounce fish caught off False Cape in early 2006.

From The Washington Times:
On Saturday . . . Woodbine, Md., resident Justin Riley, [competing] in an Anglers Choice winter bass tournament on the tidal Potomac River with his father, Ed, . . . latch[ed] on to an 11-pound, 2.88-ounce largemouth.

By Monday, the Maryland Department of Natural Resources Fisheries dispatched biologists to the store to verify the weight of the bass and officially list it as a state record.

And from The Chattanoogan:
A TWRA Fisheries Biologist recently distributed this e-mail to his counterparts across the state.
"Attached are a couple of photos of a monster blue catfish caught near Greenville, Mississippi by an elderly man who let the fish go after his wife took the pictures. . . . [S]ome catfish anglers guessed it to be at least 150 pounds. It looks like 200 pounds to me. For sure it would have been a new world record."

Anyone know more about this catch?

-By Will Rice

"There was no evidence to show they’d been around. There were no boats,
no wreckage. There was nothing." - Henry Bain. Andros Island, Bahamas

On the morning of August 5, 1995, Stanley Bain stood in front of his
Cargill Creek Lodge and surveyed the small flyfishing empire that he’d
built. The resort sat near the North Bight on South Andros Island, The
Bahamas, concealed among lush tropical gardens and manicured lawns.
Three satellite cottages peppered the outskirts of his property, which
included an in-ground swimming pool and a Cessna 402 for his more
affluent clients who wished to arrive via private charter. And
surrounding it all were some of the most productive bonefishing waters
in the world.

Stanley was preparing for a two-week fishing trip to harvest
lobsters for the coming year’s clients. A recent hurricane had just
passed and he and his brother William were getting a late start on
opening season. But soon after fueling up the 36-foot Luhrs Sport
Fisherman and two Dolphin skiffs that would accompany them, Stanley,
William, and three lodge employees set out into the emerald waters
surrounding Andros. As they headed away from Cargill Creek, the group
passed Simon Bain, another of Stanley’s brothers, who was returning
with a client from the North Bight and Moxey Creek after a morning
chasing big bonefish. Simon ran his boat close in front of his older
brother’s cabin cruiser, and he can still remember his two brothers
laughing as he passed. It was the last time he would ever see them.
Stanley Bain and his crew of four disappeared that day forever.

To continue Will Rice's, The Disappearance of Stanley Bain click here and finish reading at The Drake Magazine. It's not that long.  Go get a fresh cup of coffee, take your ten minute break and enjoy a good mystery story.

TR

By Kim Hiss

     I got to the office today, and a co-worker had sent an email offering free golden retriever pups, with a picture of an impossible-to-resist litter of warm, fuzzy furballs. There's no way I could take another animal at the moment living in an apartment, but offers like that always make me seriously consider it just for a second before I have to talk some sense into myself.

     Later in the day, I saw this Arizona Republic story about a Lab who ate a pair of Super Bowl tickets totaling $1,900 in value. That helped get me off my new puppy kick as well. Apparently as punishment, the Lab, a 3-year-old named Buddy (at right with the incriminating evidence), isn't allowed to watch the game.
     I've been wanting to write a dog-blog for a little while, and kept looking for a good news story to give me an excuse to do so. But considering that we're passed the time of year when a great dog-saves-duck-hunter-from-drowning headline is likely to pop up, I figure this ticket mishap will have to do.
     So now's the time for your best and worst dog stories -- from great hunts to utter training disasters. Remembrances of past companions are also welcome (the first story I ever edited for Field & Stream was a one-page piece about the death of a bird hunter's favorite retriever - it's amazing how upset you can get over stories like that when it's not even your dog!). -K.H.

By David E. Petzal and Philip Bourjaily

"Cheap" refers not only to price. A great many pre-64 Model 70 Winchesters were cheaply made but still carried hefty price tags. It was so pervasive that in the mid-1960s the Gun Digest ran an article by Bob Hagel entitled "How to Fix Your Model 70 and Learn Ballroom Dancing at Home." The triggers were lamentable, the inletting appeared to have been done with an adze, and the checking was executed with a rooster claw.

Remington used to build the Model 788 bolt-action, which was cheap but not a bad gun at all. It was so simple that there was not much opportunity to screw it up. It had a rear-lugged bolt, an uncheckered stock, and a pretty fair trigger. The 788s that I got my hands on shot very well.

The Tikka T3 at $700 is not cheap at all, but considering the fit and finish and accuracy, it is cheap. T3s are very, very nicely put together, and for what you get for your money, it is a cheap gun.

But the best cheap guns of all are used guns. Lunatics like me sell wonderful firearms for all sorts of inane reasons, and you can profit from our folly. I recently put a rifle on the market for $500 which would cost nearly $3,000 if you bought it new today. It's 20 years old and has had serious usage, but it's still a $3,000 rifle for one-sixth the price. And, oh yes, it's been sold.