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April 22, 2010

Prior to arriving at Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia, I believed the fish would be moving shallow, perhaps even beginning to spawn. And that was the case, precisely.

Even though the bass in my home state of Florida were still bedding, a lengthy warming trend in the northeast drove the highland reservoir’s bass to the bank. Other than what Skeet Reese accomplished with a swimbait, the event essentially became a sight-fishing fest.

I threw a swimbait a lot in practice, alternating between a BassTrix and Storm WildEye Swim Shad. But the bass only seemed interested enough to follow the bait, not eat it. I’m sure other anglers tried swimbaits as well, but Skeet evidently had the magic lure in this event. He seemed to catch fish at will, even behind other competitors.

The lure he used is the same one Byron Velvick won with on Clear Lake—a prototype BV 3D made by Jerry Rago. Try to find one! At the time of the event there were only a handful made, and those couldn’t be pried from the hands of their protective owners.

Throughout practice, most of the competitors pretty much ran the same pockets and banks looking for sight-fish, marking them with a GPS. Everyone tried to compliment the search with some type of reaction bait, like a floating worm, topwater or swimbait.

After realizing how many anglers were beating the same banks, I decided to head upstream to see if there was a better option. Near the headwaters of two major creeks I found off-colored water and an abundance of threadfin shad…and better than that, no other boats!  I immediately caught fish throwing a 3/8-ounce Hildebrandt Tin Roller with tandem willow blades in silver. The blade size and profile matched the size of the threadfin perfectly.

I caught numerous fish in the four hours I spent there, but none were of the size required to compete. I alternated lures frequently, trying both the spinnerbait and a No.5 Shad Rap along flat banks, steep banks, around docks, laydowns, and any other available cover. Still I caught only smaller than average fish. So I eventually blew that off and went back downriver to resume the search for bedding fish.

We Weren’t Alone

Our event fell right on the heels of two other large events. The weekend we arrived there was a large BFL draw tournament. Twenty pounds won it, but it took more than 15 pounds for 20^th place, and that’s stout for this lake. There was even an abundance of 13- to 14-pound stringers. The following day there was a buddy tournament and they pounded them, too. In just one day of practice, it became obvious that the grade and numbers of fish from those tournaments weren’t going to be there for us.

It’s no fun fishing behind big tournaments like that, especially on a clear lake during the spawn. The fish just get pummeled. But that’s part of the game.

I continued to search on the lower end of the lake by running pockets, exhausting my trolling motor batteries every day looking for fish. I marked more than 200 beds in three days. The scenario was pretty much the same as last year—swapping water with a lot of other boats. It sounds good that you’re marking fish, but the reality is you’re going to share those same fish. If your milk run is one step ahead of the next guy during competition, then you can do really well.  If not, then you’re fishing for scraps.

Leave No Stones Unturned

Boat and angling pressure on a lake has a definite impact on fish, especially when they’re shallow. With two large events prior to ours, it had to be the reason the bigger fish were so scarce. By the time we hit the lake, three-pounders were considered a prized find.

Because so many anglers were searching in the same areas, I spent considerable time looking in smaller, more obscure places that could go overlooked—like areas behind docks and along the shelves of steep banks. Realizing most of the field would expedite their search by marking as many easy-to-see fish as possible, I knew some would be overlooked. By being thorough, I found several key fish hidden within the obvious areas, and it was these same fish that proved invaluable as the tournament progressed.

Tournament Time

On day-1 of the competition I ran straight to a quality fish I had marked close to take-off.  With an early draw, I knew I would get there first. The fish weighed between 3 ½ to four pounds and was situated near a spawning pocket where I had marked numerous other beds. I worked that fish for about 20 minutes with no luck, then some approaching boats made me nervous—I thought I might lose the adjacent pocket to another competitor, so I pulled the PowerPole and quickly moved to defend that water. Within an hour I had a decent limit of fish, so I returned to the start fish. After 30 minutes or so, I finally got her to bite…only to lose her half way to the boat. Frustrating!

From there I ran pockets, gradually upgrading my catch. I felt relaxed and confident. On two separate occasions I caught spawning pairs. Not an easy task, especially with so much boat traffic going on around me.

By day’s end I had nearly 15 pounds and was well in the race.

On day-2  I went to a different part of the lake. The weather forecast called for high winds and the new location was much more protected. I believed it was the right move at the time. Almost immediately, however, I realized the area had been picked clean. I trolled from waypoint to waypoint, only to find barren beds. By 9am, I had only scraps to show for the time lost, so I pulled the trolling motor and raced to another nearby area…one that I hoped had received less pressure.

The wind was picking up pretty good, eventually gusting up to 30 miles per hour. This only made it tougher to see and stay on the fish. Even with a GPS waypoint and a PowerPole, I struggled.

About midday I went to a fish I’d seen the day before on a deep stump, about 7 feet down. I made a long cast with a Yamamoto green-pumpkin lizard and set the hook. The stump was tall and heavily decayed. The fish swam through a large hole and out the other side. I was using 17-pound Sufix fluorocarbon and when I pulled tight on the fish, the line dug deep into a soft groove and wedged there. The fish was tethered on two feet of line, circling above the stump. I could see it clearly, easily a 3 ½ to four pounder. Anxiously I tried to free my line from the stump, only to eventually snap the rod tip. I then tried reaching for the tethered line holding the fish. But each time I raised the fish toward the surface, it was just out of reach. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally gave up and reluctantly snapped the line.

I had only 9 pounds in the box and this was a good, quality fish…one that would have really helped. But I simply couldn’t reach it. I felt like the wheels were coming off at that point.

I moved on to another area where I was saving a good fish hidden behind a dock that ran parallel to the bank. I could barely see the fish in practice, so I was confident it would still be there, unmolested. Fooling it into biting wasn’t easy, but after about an hour, I finally caught it—a three-plus pounder, and my spirits were renewed.

From there I trolled to another waypoint, hoping to find another overlooked fish. On the approach something bright caught my eye. Extending from the end of a shallow dock was a PVC pipe. And what was peculiar was that the T-fitting on the end was bright white, and the rest of pipe appeared brown from algae and sediment. I knew immediately that only a fish could have buffed the pipe clean like that. So I spun the boat around and made a cast along side the pipe. About halfway down, the line jumped. I swung and missed. The second cast yielded another short strike. But on the third try, I hooked a fat 2 ½-pound male. Swimming with it was a 4-pound female! I boated the fish, culled a small keeper and quickly made another cast alongside the pipe. Immediately the line moved off and I set the hook. After a minute or two, I lipped the female. She weighed nearly five pounds and I knew at that point I would be fishing on Saturday.

When you’re trying to sight fish in excessively windy conditions, it’s frustrating as hell. What’s worse is when things aren’t going your way…like losing a crucial fish on a stump, or counting on an area only to find it picked clean by other competitors. But if you overcome those things, and finish strong, nothing is more rewarding.

Quality Just Ran Out

The wind blew hard again on the third day, so I gambled by dedicating most of the morning to throwing a swimbait. Word had gotten around about Skeet’s success using one, and with low skies and stiff winds, conditions seemed perfect for that kind of reaction bite.

So I ran a bunch of shallow points throwing the BassTrix and Storm WildEye Shad, and eventually caught one…not big, but it was a start. Soon afterwards I had a much bigger fish shoot out from under a dock only to grab the lure’s tail. That made me stick with the pattern even longer, thinking it might only be a matter of time.

Unfortunately, I never had another bite on the swimbait, and by 11am I went sight fishing to fill out my limit. Running from pocket to pocket, alternating between the lizard and a tube, I caught lots of 1 1/2-pound fish. The dark, blustery conditions made it nearly impossible to see the deeper beds that should have held the better fish. But without seeing them, it was like I was fishing for ghosts.

As it turned out, my limit weighed less than 10 pounds. Not good after such a solid start, but it is what it is…

My main lures were a Yamamoto 4-inch tube in a crawfish pattern (a reddish brown and green color) and a 6-inch green-pumpkin Yamamoto lizard. Besides the swimbait, one other lure that helped me put some fish in the boat was a 13-S Rapala Original Floater Minnow. It fooled several fish sunning themselves around docks and in the back of super-shallow pockets. These fish were lethargic, and had no interest in feeding or protecting. It’s an old-school technique; if you can see the fish far enough away, you make a long cast, twitch the bait once or twice, then let it sit. That’s when the bait will shine. Something about its motionless profile resting on the surface—bass can’t stand it.

I spoke with Carolina pro Jason Quinn about it, and he too experienced similar success with a Rapala Floater Minnow. In fact, he told me he was able to pull some really big fish to the surface with it during several phases of the tournament.

My tackle selection was pretty basic, geared perfectly for sight-fishing. I used 10-pound test Sufix Tri-Tanium mono on the Rapala Floater Minnow, and 10-pound Sufix fluorocarbon on the tube. I fished the lizard on 17-pound fluorocarbon. Both the tube and lizard were Texas rigged with Tru-Tungsten weights and EWG worm hooks (1/8-ounce weight for the tube, 1/4-ounce for the lizard).

Overall, I had a pretty good plan. After determining the upper river bite wasn’t going to yield the quality I needed, I opted to stay down in the clearer water and sight-fish. I did pretty well on day-1, but days-2 and 3 became a simple matter of survival. I went with what I knew and worked around the wind. There’s nothing else you can do in that situation.

It wasn’t a high finish, but it yielded $10K and some badly needed points. Overall, I felt like I played well with the cards I was dealt. Now we head for the TVA lakes—Pickwick and Guntersville. Stay tuned, as the tour is fixing to turn it up a notch!