Any surfcaster today who is worth his salt, likely has at least one pencil popper in his plug bag. To my knowledge, I am the first person to ever cast a pencil popper at the Jersey Shore. Let me explain.
During the late 1950s I kept Sand Hopper, my old 1929 Model A Ford beach buggy behind Cap Colvin’s Bait and Tackle Shop in Seaside Park, NJ. Cap’s was considered headquarters by many in that area of the Jersey Shore. As I was only 20 years old, I was a less experienced “regular.” In those days Barnegat Bay would often come alive with striped bass from late April into early June. Bucktails were the primary lure used until the original Rebel plug hit the scene. Despite their easily straightened hooks the Rebel, along with the bucktail, became the standard for fishing the flats behind Island Beach State Park, which is where I’d fish my 14-foot plywood skiff.
One day, after fishing a slow morning session, my partner Hal and I returned to Cap’s for a late breakfast and to bemoan the slow fishing. While we were engaged in “regular talk” a large man walked through the door. No one in attendance knew the gentleman except Cap who greeted him warmly. Cap then introduced his “regulars” to Stan Gibbs. Since a very early age, I had been reading my Dad’s copies of Saltwater Sportsman from almost issue number 1, so my brain went, “Wow, Stan Gibbs!”
Stan was on a sort of plug marketing visit to Cap’s. After some general fishing conversation he pulled out a funny looking plug he said he was developing. It was white, skinny, and about 5 to 6 inches long. He said he was thinking of calling it a “Pencil Popper.” Stan went on to explain you could only work the plug correctly if you tied directly to the line and you were able to pat the top of your head and rub your belly at the same time. His instructions were to whip the rod rapidly while reeling slowly.
What happened next is one of the highlights of my fishing life. Stan held out his prototype lure and gave it to me. Why he chose me, I’ll never know. Maybe he felt like helping a young guy out. Later that day Hal and I were again on the water casting the normal bucktails and Rebels, again without much success. I got the idea to experiment with the pencil popper. You wouldn’t believe it, but on almost every cast I had bass attacking the lure while Hal went fishless using the normal offerings. Feeling sorry for him, I let him use the lure after I had quickly caught my limit of 10 fish. He proceeded to limit out.
Seeing our action a Seaside Park resident friend motored near us and hollered over, “Bob, what the hell are you using?” I responded, “a pencil popper.” He obviously had no idea what that was, and from that day on my nickname among the gang was “Pencil Popping Bob” which lasted a long time. We would often joke, “If you put a Pencil Popper in Barnegat Bay the bass would come from Sandy Hook to jump on it!”
Stan Gibbs and I stayed in contact via phone reporting on each other’s fishing success, or lack thereof. Years later he loved to hear me tell him of some of my great wetsuiting nights in Montauk using his darters or bottle plugs. Stan was a fine gentleman, and I describe him thus: “If you don’t like Stan Gibbs, you don’t like anybody.” I consider myself fortunate to have known him.
Later that same year my dad had a heart attack. During his lengthy recovery period he needed something to occupy his time. What better way than to sit in front of his lathe turning out pencil poppers? The next spring dad, my fishing pals, and I had an arsenal filled with two different size pencil poppers of many colors. Dad’s poppers caught like the Gibbs.
Years later while fishing a beach in Maine, just as the sun was up, on a mill pond calm ocean, I was working a large white Gibbs pencil. I had retrieved the lure about a third of the way when I saw a dorsal fin first, followed by the entire back of a giant bass lift out of the water behind my plug. I don’t have to tell you how my heart began to beat. I kept the rod tip bouncing, but slowed the retrieve to nothing. I can still see it today, like slow motion. The bass slowly closed on the plug and there was a giant swirl as the bass inhaled the popper. That fish hit the scale at 45 pounds, and, although not my biggest bass, it is certainly one of my favorite memories.
Pencil poppers have produced good catches for me of both bass and bluefish from Maine to North Carolina. It is an exciting lure to fish.
