My Best Tournament of 2008
February 26, 2009
Just about every tournament angler utters some type of cliché almost every time they get a chance to stand on a stage with a microphone in front of them. From “It was just my day,” to, “I was just in the right place at the right time”. In June of 2008, I was proof positive that sometimes clichés are called for; such as, “Even a blind hog finds an acorn once and a while”. At least that’s the one I used on stage at the Bassmaster Weekend Series event on the Alabama River last year. That single event turned out to be my best tournament of 2008.
Pre-Fish
The week before the event I played hooky from work and drove down on a Tuesday to pre-fish. I actually won a tournament there in the 90’s but couldn’t even remember where the ramp was, let alone any holes that produced fish. I fished several good looking areas with numerous baits and had very little to show for my efforts until one particular stop.
My practice partner and I pulled up on a particular ledge on the main channel only about a mile from the launch. Sitting there watching the Lowrance we noticed a couple nice schools of shad at about 23 feet with some bass following. The river had good current and we dropped a couple baits down on drop-shots and finesse gear and landed four or five keeper spotted bass. I was thinking that this place might be a great backup for keepers if tournament day turned out to be tough. Turns out those were good thoughts.
I could have boated 12 to 13 pounds of largemouth from the bank-grass on a buzzbait during Thursday’s practice and I felt that this was the pattern I should focus on for a good finish. I moved from the grass to the main channel and fished twenty miles up river, then twenty miles down river with the water moving heavily. High gas bill by the way since gas had almost hit the four dollar a gallon. I didn’t find anything different to depend on at either end on Thursday so in my mind, the grass bite was the ticket.
Friday’s practice was slow and the water was quickly disappearing from the shore line. This left all the grass on the bank in nothing but mud. My co-angler and I looked up and down river for something different, simply because the water was just about out of the bank grass and I thought that the grass bite might totally disappear. I was right. The water dropped over two feet with absolutely no water left around the grass lines.
I remembered one little hole way up river and we headed there to try it out -- a “pump-out” place to catch a few keepers. There was a boat on it, but I didn’t think it was a tourney guy, so we fished an area within sight for a few minutes and he eventually left.
As he planed off, something blew out of his boat and disappeared. My partner had just hooked a couple nice two pound plus spots on a finesse worm when the previous boater came back and asked if we saw the T-shirt that had blown out of his boat and we tried to point out the spot for him.
We finished the day without finding much of anything to depend on. Keep in mind that I’d hit the hole I’d found the week before several times with not so much as a strike, and I was pretty disappointed since I was really depending on this area.
At the draw meeting, I ran into lost t-shirt guy. He asked if we had caught any fish off of that community hole. I told him honestly that we did. He told me that was his only hole and he was going to start there. I told him I was too, but that if I got there first, he was more than welcome to bump boats. He agreed to the same.
Derby Day
I was boat #2 that Saturday morning and made my first run to the pump station. The river was flowing but they weren’t pumping any water. No bites. Lost t-shirt guy showed up a few minutes after I got there and we both fished the spot for about half an hour.
I moved down the bank about 25 yards when suddenly not one, but TWO catfish boats moved right in on top of t-shirt guy, ANCHORED right in the middle of where he was fishing and started throwing casting nets! He was a much nicer fellow than me because they stayed there without even so much as a treble hook in their ear. I moved back up and called out to him that I was leaving because there were too many hooks in the water. That proved to be the best move I’ve made in a long time.
I ran back down river a couple miles and started cranking a tree that had fallen on the main channel, landing a nice two pound spot from the tree top. Finally, the skunk was gone and I had points. We moved even further down river and stopped on a point to crank some more, boating a nice three pound spot on a crankbait. Moving into a shallow creek I got a small largemouth on a finesse worm . . . then nothing for the next few hours. I tried 
cranking similar areas like the one I’d caught my first fish in but couldn’t buy a bite, and the heat was soaring.
I cruised by the honey hole I’d found pre-fishing the week before and there was a boat sitting right on top of it. Nuts! I didn’t think anyone would find it but I was wrong. Kinda. We moved on and fished some other holes in the blazing heat. I noticed my co-angler wasn’t feeling very fresh. He was battling a strep infection and the heat was getting to him. We cruised back by my honey hole to find there wasn’t a boat within two hundred yards of it! Even though I’d hit this dadgummed thing numerous times during practice and couldn’t get a bite, I knew what it could produce if I caught them feeding.
I decided to quell my stubborn streak and use the bait I’d caught ‘em on the previous week. About the second cast with the drop-shot on 6-pound Toray line I landed a nice three pound spot. A couple drops later and I had a 2-12. A couple drops later and I landed another three pounder. Now instead of getting points, I’m thinking another nice one plus a four pounder and I’m in business!
I watched my Lowrance unit and after 10 minutes of down time they showed up again. I landed another nice 2-08 on the next drop. I culled my small largemouth from earlier in the day and a couple drops later I got another three. My co-angler told me I might have a shot at this thing. My dropshot brought in several nice fish, all from an area that was about as big as a small dinner table, allowing me to cull my smaller fish.
Several boats tried to get in on my spot, and a couple actually saw me culling. One even proceeded to drift between me and the bank! About 20 feet from the bank, dropping straight down in 23 feet of water, my Dobyns drop-shot rod loaded up and I landed a 2 + while the guy was talking to me. I had a solid limit of spotted bass now, but my co-angler wasn’t looking too good. The poor guy was sitting there with one of my FroggToggs Chilly Pads on his head and he wasn’t sweating in 100 degree heat. Not good. We headed in half hour or so early to get him cooled down.
When all was said and done, I realized I hadn’t lost a single fish the entire day. Every hookset put a fish in the boat, and my best five Alabama River spotted bass hit the scales at 16.11 pounds on a day when the overall fishing was severely tough. A sunburn, a nice $5,000 first place check and some Triton Gold bonus money made for a pleasant trip back home.
Looking back, I realize that Bassmaster Weekend Series event has impacted my upcoming 2009 season -- patience and persistence pays off. I used to fish fast and furious, trying to cover as much water as possible. During practice days and the tournament itself, I’d hit one area over a dozen times without a single bite. But I knew that the fish would eventually be there feeding and that’s what kept me coming back.
Lots of patience and a whole of persistence paid off with a tournament win. Some say that there is a fine line between patience and stubbornness when it comes to bass fishing. That’s true, but sometimes being a bit stubborn on occasion can pay off in the end as well. It was one of those days that comes along every once in a while where everything falls into place perfectly. Ah, yes, another cliché.