THE RACING PIGEON 29 MARCH 2024
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Again the birds were housed in perfect surroundings over some old stables with a boiler underneath that supplied the two cottages with hot water and kept the loft dry during the winter. We visited them quite unexpectedly but within ten minutes you’d think we had known them all our lives. The birds that had been raced on the Natural or Widowhood system were now rearing a late youngster, but one could see that they were of the highest quality and not only by their past performances from all distances. They were of a similar type to all the Belgian lofts I had the pleasure of visiting, always with a good head and eye, a head which shows the full amount of character, when one is looking for good pigeons, something better than lengthy pedigrees. The lofts that gave me most pleasure were the lofts of N & R de Scheemaecker of Antwerp, where 25,000 pairs of all the known strains are kept. Each strain is housed separately in a 100-foot loft, with the same size wire aviary on the front. To me this was a feast and a must if you ever visit the land of the pigeons. The loftman, or foreman as they call him, was then a likeable old gentleman called Jan Willox. As this was on a Sunday, the large lounge and bar was filled with pigeon men and women, all waiting for their number to be drawn from a large drum. De Scheemaecker sells everything appertaining to the pigeon sport and when you have spent a certain amount of money your ticket is placed in the drum, and if your
number is drawn out you can have a pair of squeakers from any of the strains kept, giving everyone a chance of obtaining a strain of their choice. As Sunday was Jan Willox’s business time we made arrangements to see him the next day with the object of purchasing some youngsters. This was late February, but I can tell you there were plenty of youngsters about the farm, as the Belgians cannot get their rings early enough as they have to fly the old birds for the amount of any-age races organised. When we arrived the next morning the youngsters were all in separate boxes with a lid at the top, where the strain was pinned on. Myself, I had not gone with the same object as my friends as to purchasing youngsters, but I could not help falling in love with a little chequer hen of the Havenith blood. I asked him the price – 600 francs, equivalent to £5 – I brought her home. As a young bird she won several positions and the next year 70th Open LNR Combine Berwick, 5,444 birds, and was timed in from Thurso the same year. She was one of the very few yearlings I have sent to Thurso and then only because she was barren. I lost her a fortnight later in a smash from Perth. Not only did she win much more than I paid for her, but again she had proved my judgement right. Don’t forget we can all be a good winner, but not all can be a good loser. When you have fulfilled your boyhood ambition you can look back with pride and know that all was not in vain.
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