Pardon the long setup but I think some back story is important here.
Saturday evening we pull up to a gravel bar for the evening bite. There were two other boats, a pontoon with dad and two boys anchored on the shallow hump of the bar, and another boat dragging lindy’s with a drift sock across the north side of the bar. Wind was out of the west.
We set up a drift on the south side of the bar drifting west to east. Marked a lot of fish but they seemed finicky so we decided to anchor upwind and drift bobbers across the bar. We anchored within casting distance upwind of the bar. I felt bad parking about 60 yards of the pontoon.
An hour later other boats started showing up and they worked around us with trolling motors but staying outside. I hooked a 26″ walleye letting my bobber drift onto the rock pile, just like we planned. As I cast to out the side to start a new bobber drift a boat motors in between us and the pontoon. I could have hit his boat with my bobber as he passed. He passed within six feet of my then floating bobber. The guy in the bow was leaning over the edge a bit watching my bobber as they passed. The SOB dropped his anchor right on top of the spot were my last bobber went down, just down wind of us.
This also put him about 30 yards from the pontoon.
We did comment rather loudly, “next time why don’t you just tie up to our boat.” Followed by, “132,000 acres and you have to park right there.” They were oblivious.
It gets better. A bass boat with a young guy and his GF troll between the SOB, I like to nickname everyone, and the pontoon dragging lures and they snag the pontoon’s anchor line. They snap off the lure in the line for dad to hook his hands when he pulls up the anchor. Then the move about 30 yards up wind of the pontoon and stop to retie and continue fishing.
At this point we are up to seven boats trying to fish this spot. Dad gets fed up, pulls anchor to leave which was also a good show because pulling in his anchor pulled him up next to the dork that had parked on top of it and hooked his line earlier. Dad heads his tri-toon at full throttle through all the dick heads. I laughed. Good for him.
But wait, there’s more. Now the race starts to grab dad’s spot. The winning boat anchors on the spot. About 20 minutes later an arse hat comes trolling through the middle of the anchored fleet, by now there were 15 boats on the gravel bar, yacking on the phone while driving the boat. I had to move my line to save his trolling motor. Again, another oblivious idiot out there. I thought about leaving my 20lb 832 out there to wrap around his trolling motor, ending his weekend of fishing. Instead, I told my fishing buddy, watch this. Watching the schiit show, loud talker on the phone shouts, ‘Fish On’ and hangs up, only to find out he had also hooked an anchor rope. We were rolling in laughter at this latest cluster.
Meanwhile, we caught a dozen eyes in a few hours, five over 25″, and enjoyed watching the inconsiderate idiots hook each other and vie for that perfect position.
Please be considerate of others. If you don’t get their first, don’t fish on top of someone else. There are 132,000 acres to chose from. The rocks were on fire. Any rocks. You didn’t have to be on the spot on the spot to do well.
My buddy doesn’t get to Mille Lacs much anymore and he has a great memory of fishing Sherman’s with his dad many years ago. So instead of hearing about it all day, I pointed the boat there first thing on Saturday to get it out of his system. 
