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Low Down on Lake Toho Draw Down
Part 6: Too Good!
By Paul Crawford

June 28, 2004

Easing down the line of thinning hydrilla, another 3 pounder explodes under the Storm Chug Bug. I think it's the orange belly that's doing it. The hydrilla is dying back quickly and a thin curtain of green angel hair moss now covers the tops of the stems. The orange belly seems to show up through the moss and the increasingly stained water as the hydrilla filter has ceased to function. It almost has to be the color since I can cast 6 or 7 times around here with another color and not raise more than a follow from a snapping gar. With the orange-bellied Chug Bug, it's rare to make 3 casts without a couple of strikes and a fish. I think I'll try a Spook next. At least it will be a change.

In the last stages of the Draw Down, I've discovered something I never really knew about bass fishing; I don't particularly like playing in a fish. In fact, catching fish can get pretty boring. I guess that's why I don't crappie fish much. Here on Toho in mid-May, if you know the lake a little, know how to work off shore cover and structure, it's pretty hard not to catch fish. Today is a very pleasant day in the mid-80s, water temperature a nearly perfect 78 degrees, and a nice SE sea breeze keeps the hydrilla gnats at bay. Just about every remaining grass point has a couple of 3 pound bass hanging around that will hit most things that move. Well, they'll hit it if they can out run the gar, chain pickerel, occasional mud fish, and maybe a small gator or two. Every predator in the lake is up roaming these edges looking for the long awaited next good meal. With all of these hungry mouths to feed, my top water doesn't stand a chance.

As the numbers of fish visiting the boat mount, it's not hard to notice their size and condition. Most all of the bass are between 2 and 4 pounds. Smaller and larger fish are noticeably absent and it's not hard to do the math. The lake's deteriorating condition over the last year or two waiting for the draw down resulted in a rather poor year class recruitment. What dinks were in there, (and no doubt there are still plenty), were keeping a very low profile. The difference between predator and prey has noticeably shrunk as the forage feast has run its course. All of these sizable predators are here at the edge feeding on the last remaining bounty of penny minnows. Normally these tiny minnows are way too small to attract the notice of big bass and toothy critters, but these are far from normal times. When you see a skipping shad now, it's likely to be the 2" variety, not the normal 5" spring fare. The 5" class of shad fell victim to these predators a couple of months ago when the draw down bass were full and round like little footballs.

The bass working these edges are slender, lean, and shrinking. What was a 4 pound fish 8 weeks ago now only weights 3 pounds if that. Large mouths are followed by tapering bodies, narrow sides most of which bear lesions and scares from close encounters with parasites and other hungry predators. The mouths of these fish are filled with small leeches and sore from unaccustomed diets. You see the tiny minnows hiding in the grass and the movement of larger bodies. You don't see or hear the normal snaps of shell crackers, perch, and other smaller fish working the shallow grass. If the small fish are in the lake at all, they are well hidden.

The lack of good-sized prey has made these fish aggressive, competitive, but a little weak. Slower presentations work much better than the normal lightning fast retrieves usually effective in the spring prime time. They aren't just everywhere, but they are in most of the obvious places as well as a few better-hidden pockets. It's very hard not to feel compassion for these fish and you weigh the rewards of catching them against any possible long term damage you might due by stressing them in their weakened condition. While a Senko, Fluke, worm, or even a jig undoubtedly would produce even more fish than my top waters, I have neither the desire nor interest in greater numbers. I'm working on the theory my Dad taught me all of those years ago that it's better to catch one fish on top water plugs than catch 10 beneath the surface. Despite an almost genetic aversion to using treble hooks, I do still love my top waters and the excitement and numbers are more than enough for me. I've even taken to the next step by leaving the rather dull factory hooks on the bait rather than replace them with my normal tacky-sharp trebles. This has resulted in a lot of missed blow ups, but there are enough you don't really care. Buzz baits got boring and the Chug Bugs are working today. Tomorrow it will be something else. It's an extremely rare opportunity where most anything works with the proper presentation and you can almost call your shots. The rush of the big splash or the site of a 3 pound fish leaving the water to crash down on top of your bait is still there, but somehow the overall experience is lacking. There's just not a whole lot of challenge to it.

I hear the laughter and hoots from a pair of guide boats. They are some of the handful of boats that share the lake today. With no tournament pressure, the freezers full of crappie already, and the lake too shallow for safe pleasure boating, only a few guides and bass fishermen venture to West Lake now. The safer water and healthier fish keep many of the commercial guides busy on the lower chain, but a few charters are taking advantage of the easy pickings on West Lake. I can't think of it as anything but a waste. It's four or five guys crammed into a boat feeding $200 worth of shiners to starving fish in an afternoon. There appears to be a steady stream of 4 pound fish coming and going to the boats. I can't help but wonder what's the point of sticking a grand in a guide's pocket for that.

It's almost as bad in my boat as I step on the trolling motor to work along a straight edge of grass. You can't learn much when the fish are everywhere and if it's no challenge to get a bite, then what am I doing here? It's turned into more of a mapping trip than anything. I've toured a lot of my old spots to find out why they work so well the rest of the time. Haunts that were once just a hidden honey hole in open water reveal themselves as subtle points, the shallow hump, a ledge only a couple of inches deeper than the surrounding flats, but enough to make a difference. I'm searching along this edge with my Chug Bug to find new, overlooked spots for more challenging days. My list of good spots has grown enough now that if I can't get a bite along here now, it will be some time before I'm back for a second try.

On the other side of the locks in Lake Cypress, you can almost walk across the tournament boats taking advantage of that lowered water but much better fed bass population. In the rest of the Kissimmee chain, the fish are full and still feeding more. Local tournaments regularly see 20 pound limits as the fish are both shallow and roaming open water feeding on schools of shad. While not as easy of fishing on the other lakes, it's still nothing short of a spectacular spring feed where the bass and the forage appear almost limitless. I do love spring time in Florida. I'll be spending a lot of time down there during our summer night fishing tournament season, so those waters can wait for another day.

I squint to watch a young bald eagle swoop down to pluck a luckless fish out of the shallows. The fishing has been good for him this year too. I love to watch the big birds work, it's true grace in motion. As the eagle starts back to his perch with the struggling fish firmly in his talons, my attention is jerked back to the boat as a two pound bass heads the other direction with my Chug Bug in his mouth. I'm paying the price for not concentrating as the fish heads for an isolated ball of thin hydrilla. I need to keep him from wrapping up in the grass and stressing out even more. I don't want to hurt him with a long, drawn out fight, but I don't want to rip him up with too strong of pull either. Holding the rod down and adding tension with my thumb, my rod flex convinces the bass to head back this direction. I reel him into open water and raise the rod tip. As the bass erupts from the shallow water, I give him some slack and watch with some satisfaction as he spits my bug back at me. A successful quick release. I've have enough unintentional practice during the tournaments in how to loose a fish on treble hooks to have gotten pretty good at it. I watch a slight wake make its way quickly towards open water as a small pair of eyes surface a few yards away to see what the commotion is all about. I keep the Chug Bug in the boat as I move around with my depth finder investigating the spot. It seems to be just a couple of inches shallower here and that has let hydrilla balls start up just out from the hard edge. It's probably worth remembering so I set an icon on the GPS for future reference. Those small eyes silently slip back beneath the surface.

By the time you read this, it will be over. The Great West Lake Toho Draw Down is on schedule to be completed on June 1st, and that's not a moment too soon. The few rain showers we've already had has put a slight current coming out of Shingle Creek. I talked to a guy at the ramp who had caught about 50 fish there that morning on a Rat'L Trap. They have also been slowly seeping a little water down East Lake canal in Goblet's cove. Within a couple of weeks, they will need to lower East Lake back down for the storm season. Once the East Lake canal starts to flow, all of those green pastures will return to their proper place beneath the waves. The hungry fish will find a new feast waiting for them in the flooded shallows as the rising water chokes the last life out of the treated hydrilla. The daily summer rains in late June should have us back to near normal pool by Labor Day. The fish that flood into the shallows will find the newly scraped spawning flats and by the end of the year, the cycle of life will have restarted. In a word… Cool.

With the sun getting lower in the west, I decide it time to cover a little more water. I grabbed up my trusty buzz bait. This little jewel is one of those hidden treasures you unexpected find in the corner. In this case, Yamamoto, of all people, have produced my idea of the "perfect" buzz bait. Light head, noisy and squeaky out of the box, wired on skirt, I didn't even have to trim the skirt it was already bobbed to the right length. I launched the buzz bait towards an isolated hydrilla ball as I stepped on the trolling motor. As soon as it neared the ball, a fish just flushed the toilet up underneath it and I felt a rock solid hook up. As I pulled hard to clear the grass, I saw an unusually long and slender shape clear the water. Whoops…. Problem. Sure enough, as I reeled into the boat, it came in rather straight with just a couple of head shakes. As I pulled the lure up out of the water, I found myself staring at an impressive row of teeth. The big pike had swallowed the thing down to the gills. Good thing those skirts are wired, and I still may have to let him keep this one. I tried my best to ease the big hook out with my pliers while being wary of the hungry eyes staring at my fingers. The hook popped free but I felt the oozing blood from the nicked gill flow around my fingers and drop to stain the deck. I flipped the injured pike back in the water and quickly washed my hands. I hated to hurt even the toothy critter, but I guess gators have to eat too. Wishing the pike the best of luck, I decided to return to my Chug Bug and stepped on the trolling motor, moving on into the dusk.

There has been no massive fish kill. There has been no souring of the water. There have been no exceptional rains to wash away the draw down or flood the lakes downstream. Good weather is predicted for the next month and if it turned bad today, it's still been a successful schedule. The numbers of fish show a very healthy and robust brood stock for the spawn. The forage, though hidden now, is more than enough for an explosion of fresh food for the coming seasons. The shallows stand cleaned and refresh, ready to receive the returning waters. It's too early to say that's it is a complete success, but the signs are hopeful and none of the dire predictions have come to pass.

With the sun starting to set, I reached the end of the hydrilla line. I was immediately rewarded with yet another 3 pounder knocking my top water into next Tuesday. As I reeled the feisty fish to the boat, I was amused to see another fish about the same size frantically dashing around the hooked fish in an apparent attempt to steal my Chug Bug out of his mouth. No quick release here, He'd tried to wallow it side ways and a hook was embedded in either side of this mouth. A quick boating, a couple of jerks with the pliers, and I watched the fish swim back to join his buddy. It had been a good day even if it had become a tad boring. I'd found several new spots to test when the waters rose. I'd caught enough on top waters to keep myself giggling like a 14-year-old girl. I'd convinced myself the lake and the fish in it were in an exceptionally healthy state. All appears ready for West Lake to re-emerge as one of the top fisheries in the world. For this day in mid-May, I needed to beat the mosquitoes back to the ramp and I was probably way behind. There would be other days on this great lake. But somehow I doubted I'd have another day quite like this one. It's one of those memories you file away for a lifetime. A day when the fishing was so good the challenge went out of it and you were left looking at the reasons that you love this sport. For me it was the glance of a diving eagle, the wary stare of a curious alligator, a gentle breeze on a quiet lake and the emerging signs of a bright future.

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