James RickardThe right bait matches the hatch
July 24th 2007 21:45
I gripe a lot about the lack of definite answers when it comes to fishing. "Whatever works. Do you must," as Yoda says. This was really hammered home this past weekend.
I blew off church and went to one of my favorite spots Sunday morning. As I drove up, the white water birds were flying away so, I knew feeding time must be over and, since the birds were gone, I knew the bait fish were probably gone also. That meant that the predator fish (read BIG) would probably be stuffed also.
This was one time that I was glad to only have a dozen minnows because I had a feeling that the fish wouldn't be prone to bite on them if they had just gotten done eating breakfast. I decided I'd have to try and trigger some strikes and that would mean artificial lures. It was a nice, clear day so, I decided on a couple shiny crankbaits and a white and chartreuse spinnerbait that I could use to cover a lot of water. When bank fishing, I like to use two rods--one for the minnows and one for the lures. Since I was carrying a couple of rods, at least that much was working out.
After about twenty minutes a kid around 15 came from down the shore carrying a bait bucket, a dip net and a folding shovel. I didn't think much of it even when he came by after another 20 minutes or so. However, on his THIRD pass, I had to say something. "What are you?" I asked. "The designated bait getter?" I guess he liked that line because he laughed and answered, "I'm here with my grandfather and his friends. You know how those old farts are!" He began digging right where we were standing. "Doing any good?"he asked, nodding at the water.
"I can't buy a nibble," I lamented. "I think the fish are tired from eating all morning!"
Nodding, he responded, "They're biting like crazy down were we are."
Fishermen are a social lot and before I knew it I was standing abreast of three old guys and this kid. "Ya say they're not bitin' down there?" the oldest fellow wheezed.
I shook my head. "I couldn't get a darned thing."
He proudly held up his stringer which held lunch for his whole party. "That's because they're all over here," he chided through gaping teeth.
Even though it was getting late in the morning, his fish were still feeding on craw crabs rather than the baitfish the birds were after. I cursed whatever it was that made me leave my Gulp craw crabs at home and tied on an orange crankbait. In addition to that, I tried to entice the fish with a minnow but, it was all for not. The feeble little brains of the fish were set on feeding on only craw crabs.
One of the old guys in a dirty plaid shirt gave me a craw crab to try and as soon as I dropped my hook into the water I got a bite! It was a bass about 13" long--nothing to write home about but, it proved a point. Logic said it was too late in the morning for the fish to be feeding. In addition to that, since it's well after their spawning time, I was surprised that they were so close to the bank. To paraphrase Yoda, "Ya gotta do what ya gotta do!"
Until next time--watch yourself and watch your line!
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