My First Bass - The Fisherman

My First Bass

Though I fished a lot when was a kid, I stopped when I got into high school. This was followed by a stint in the Army, college, career, marriage and children, albeit consuming most of my time. Sound familiar? In the blink of an eye twenty years had passed by before I decided to start fishing again. A lot of things had changed in the world of fishing during that time and my skills were not up to par. Neither was my knowledge.

I watched all the fishing shows and tournaments on TV becoming fascinated with Largemouth Bass. Roland Martin and his cronies sure made it look easy, but I was soon to discover, it was not. I joined B.A.S.S. and soon thereafter entered their contest for catching bass which in N.J. had to weigh a minimum of 5 lbs. to qualify. Easy right? Just further proof of how delusional I was at that time.

hand holding a sea bass Following many discussions with the owner of a local tackle shop (who was also a professional fishing guide) I outfitted myself with a new rod and reel based upon his recommendations. I practiced in my backyard ad nauseam and after snagging the neighborhood cat a few times, thought it best to hit the local lake instead to test my skills. After losing a Walmart shelf full of lures I was advised to switch over to plastic baits and practice “pitching” into tight spots by the banks, around tree stumps and under overhanging branches.

On the day in question, I ventured off to my local lake seeking asylum with nature to practice, with my new tackle attached to a Culprit Jerk worm. I wondered why they called it a “jerk worm.” Was somebody trying to tell me something? Was it the worm or the person using it? I would soon discover the answer to that question.

Following the lake to its end where it branched off into two tributaries I picked the most difficult spot to pitch. I was deep into the brush by now and purposely left my tackle box and bucket in my truck. After several pitches to the opposite bank I miscast landing my plastic on a tree root whose underside was exposed by the bank. My worm bounced off the root plopping into the water. After an expletive or two I began my retrieve only to be in for the shock of my life. There at the end of my line was this monster largemouth staring at me. I immediately began to panic because I left my bucket in my truck which was a long ways off. Now what?

I disengaged the hook, lipped the fish and holding my pole in the other hand began to sprint through the woods like an NFL running back paying no attention to the bramble and brush that was tearing at my skin. By the time I reached my truck I looked like I had been through a paper shredder. I grabbed the bucket out of my truck, filled it with lake water and sped off to the closest place with a scale, a local fish market. With bucket in hand I explained to the owner I was in a contest and politely asked could he please weigh my fish for me to which he agreed with a smile. After placing the fish on the scale he blurted out “2.5 pounds.” I shouted “How could that be? There must be something wrong with your scale!” He then proceeded to show me what a 5-pound bass looked like as I hung my head in shame.

Words cannot express the disappointment I felt at that moment, not to mention how ashamed I was at my own stupidity. Slinking out of the store I drove back to the lake and promptly deposited my “trophy” bass back to his home, wishing him a long life and hoping we’d meet again one day. Needless to say the drive home was the longest of my life.

It took me a while to get past this incident as I tried to console myself with the words my late father once taught me – “Everyone makes mistakes but it’s the fool who doesn’t learn from them.” Suffice to say this was a lesson well learned as it showed me how much more I needed to learn in terms of knowledge, practice and skill. As we all know, fishing is a game of all of those components combined and it takes time to acquire them.

I’ve come a long way since then but still consider myself a rank amateur at best. That’s fine with me because I love the game of fishing, and no matter what happens on the water, there will always be another tale to tell.

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