Fishing Machine

Around 2 or so years ago, I finally realized the direction I was beginning to go. I had sort of a feeling that I wanted to take fishing to a competitive level. But I didn't really know whole heartily. If you can feel me on that? It was then, that I knew I had to have a boat. I needed a boat! Telling my wife was like telling her that all the malls had closed... forever. I hate it when she does that. Makes me feel bad, and feel like I can't approach her. Can't she see I'm working on something here? Anyway, regardless of her initial reaction, 2 years later and I'm sitting in my boat.

June 28, 2008, I wake up and step out of my hotel room front door in Lake City, SC. The hot, humid air just lays on my skin as I rub my eyes. I look across the street at a palmetto tree and smile thinking to myself; ''I'm here''. I had waited so long to have a boat I could say was mine. Today was the day it was to come true. I had driven all the way from Delaware the day before and got there that night. I was so amped up that I barely got any sleep. But I wasn't feeling it. I was still amped. I went back in to jump in the shower, packed all my stuff, and went down to the front counter to check out and have some complementary breakfast. I was bursting at the seems trying to take my time. My efforts were futile as I'm cramming a bun down my throat and stirring my coffee at 12,000 RPM and out the door. All for no reason. I had no certain time to be there. Just AMPED! Could have done without the coffee that morning.

Pulling into the parking lot at Marshall's Marine, I had barely even stepped out of my Ford when a voice said; "You must be Bob." In a thicker southern accent than mine. "Sammy Floyd" he said. "Pleased to meet you." I returned the flavourful gesture and replied; "Good to finally put a face with the voice Sammy, I'm Bob". We stepped inside an expansive sprawl of everything boating, walking past an aluminum bass boat that I could have turned my nose up at. "Let's go see your boat man"; Sammy exclaimed. We walked through a room with Tritons and Rangers lined up side by side, from wall to wall. The glitter paint, gleaming in the showroom lights like a 4th of July fireworks display. One spot closest to the door was empty and I remember thinking to myself "That's where my boat was". We kept walking clear out the other end of the ginormous building that housed what seemed like 100 boats, coming to a paddock with more... You guess it... boats. Across a gravel lot I could see Sammy was leading toward an aluminum building resembling a shop of sorts. "Now you gonna want to pull your vehicle right around the back of that build'n, jus'on the right side". "You see dat ramp dea ?" "Das where we gonna test'er out"; Sammy instructed as he pointed to a small impoundment, man made, for such an occasion. On further inspection, I could see the "pond" was no longer than about 125 yards. I went back to my Explorer and drove it around as instructed, backing up to a big garage door. I could see it. In my rear view mirror was the boat I had been plotting for weeks before. I stepped out of the Explorer as Sammy was already hooking up the boat. I had no words for what I was seeing. It was even more pretty than the photos on the website. "Now jus drive around that side and back'er up". Getting the boat in the "pond'' was easy and Sammy pulled up to the dock and I hopped aboard. After showing me all the gadgets and what not, he showed me just how quick she would get on plane from a dead stop. What we call in the bass boat world, a hole shot. Starting at the very end of the pond, Sammy aimed the bow at the other side and punched it. For about a second I was looking at sky, then the front deck, then the opposite bank as it QUICKLY got closer. Charging forward to about 15 or 20 yards from the bank, he let off just as I was about to bail, stopping fairly quickly and leaving a huge wake in our path that devastated the banks on our left and right sides. "That was only about 55''; Sammy said over the idling 225 Mercury Optimax outboard. "It'l do every bit of 75 with more space"; he said smiling directly at me. "Fa Sho''. Where the hell on the water in Delaware, was I gonna go at 75 mph? If the entire state was water, I could get from one end to the other in about 30 min. longways. Thinking to myself; "Oh well, the power is there if I need it." After getting the boat trailered and all the paperwork squared away, I had hoped that Sammy and myself would grab a bite to eat for lunch but time did not permit him. After all, he was at work. When it was all said and done, I was the PROUD new owner of a 2003 Ranger 521VX, white with burgundy glitter trim colors, grey carpeted with matching leather seats. Sammy and I said our goodbyes saying "The next time we see you; you'll be on TV with that boat". I don't think he knows just how right he is.

Coming Into My Own "Style"

They say that every bass angler has his/her own style. Really, what the hell that means is beyond me. Using one technique more than another does not constitute as a "style'' in my book, but whatever. This sport is great and I love it; but it has more B.S. to it. I guess that is my style. I filter through all the b*** s*** I get down to the stuff that will help me catch fish versus the stuff that just tells me to use this lure or that line because super star KVD does. Let me tell you something about how good KVD is. Fishing is a sport of equality. It's not like a football or baseball athlete that have separate physical capabilities. In fishing, anyone can end up on any part of the lake using any of a million lures. It's that winning combination of those two that brings home the money. In other words, it's 60% luck and 40% using educated guesses to put you NEAR the mark. So how good is KVD? He's only as good as his ability to pick a combination of the two explained above. My point... use things that have proven themselves to YOU, not just because Tim Horton or Skeet Reese uses it. So, my style: using anything that has consistently worked for ME in situations that I like to fish. It's all about words like I, ME, MY, MINE, MYSELF. You should be thinking selfishly when sculpting your way of fishing. If you start using stuff that does not really work for you just because it's endorsed by your favorite pro; It's likely that it's just going to be a time eater out on the water. How did I come into my style? Well I'll tell you that the first time I really started to have luck on soft plastics was when I started fishing them weightless. Then I started using the senko and my catch rate went up. Even as much as the senko is used, I still keep a rod rigged with one because it's a go-to for me (it works when others won't). I also have other tendancies that formed in me over time such as spinnerbaits and jigs. It's knowing when to go against these habits that I somtimes have trouble with. Often there are times I will tell myself to do something different and still later find myself using my usual habits. I guess it's just being conscious of your faults, and striving to correct them. Falling into a pattern can be dangerous because my own feeling is that you can become too dependant of catching fish with just one option. One day they stop going for the usual presentation and you are soooo reliable that they get back on it so you don't switch and you end up coming in with empty live wells. Bet you can't guess how I know about how that all goes down? You guessed it; experience!

West Virginia

Ahh... my sanctuary. The mountains of WV. For years I have retreated to my parent's place of rest and relaxation just outside of Moorefield, WV. It backs up right to the south branch of the Potomac River. Winding through the hills and cliffs of the eastern panhandle to meet up with the main branch near Allegheny County, MD. Its full of smallmouth bass and the occasional trout but it's main attribute is the serenity. Pure uninterrupted peace; in some places case you wouldn't see a person or civilization for miles. I credit a lot of the skill I have obtained to this place. The way the river bottom hides it's self [though the water is crystal clear], with all the little nooks and crannies forming the highly contoured bottom. You have to pursue, to catch fish. They seldom seem to stay in one place there as they swim up and down 200 yard lengths of the river with relatively low water flow. At any given time and place they may find a spot at the bottom where they will stop and wait for food to come to them, or rest. Most of the time they move for prey. I figured them out after fishing the river multiple times over multiple seasons. But they always throw little changes at you to keep you on your toes. I can think back to many fond memories on the south branch with my dad, my boys, my wife. I can't begin to tell you how important this place is to me and my family and the little messages that it sends me about fishing [every now and then]. My advice to anyone that has the stereotypical view of WV, is go to this place. See it for yourself, what it will do for your spirit. Those who live in the city, this is a place where your natural born senses will run wild and return you to a state of being that you have missed for ages. I guarantee.

Then It Ended

After December came my seasonal status with Fish and Wildlife ended. I found myself unemployed yet again and the patience of my wife wore thin yet again. I thought I could wait out the winter for the job to open again, but it never did. The awesome people that I worked with kept their eyes and ears open for though. A job had popped up on the Wildlife side, researching horseshoe crabs. Not exactly what I was looking for, but it was in the Division where I would at least been seen and known. That job was also seasonal, and only lasted for the horseshoe crab spawning season, March to May. Unemployed again and had not got a lure wet since the previous summer. Then a call came on my voice mail. It was Greg Murphy telling me about a job available with fisheries doing work with knobbed whelk and blue crabs. It wasn't largemouth bass, but it was full time. Just what I had been hoping for. I was back in fisheries and my family was again at ease as I was bringing in a steady income. Time to fish! Not quite. I guess now I will let you in on some things that I had left out on my earlier entries. I have two boys, 8 and 3 (then 7 and 2). I am originally from Chesapeake Beach, MD where my parents still reside. Having lived the year before across the country, we like to visit with them every chance we got, meaning every weekend. Tough finding time to fish with 2 little boys wanting attention and a mother seemingly deprived of her grandchildren. That's when West Virginia came into play.

After I Moved

When I moved to Delaware, the setting changed big time. I didn't have all the familiar places I used fish that I knew pretty well. And my best fishing buddy was still in California, being shipped out for deployment regularly. I couldn't even share stories and recent catches i had. Kinda sucked. I got real itchy to set the hook on something after about a month so I grabbed a license and a guide book and went at it in the spillway of Silver Lake in Dover. That was when I found my new love; the senko worm. I could throw one of them just about anywhere I knew there would be bass, and I would get bit. What a blast! The spillway offered so much shoreline to fish that it quickly became commonplace for me and my older son, Andrew, to fish there. I will admit now, that this spot is definitely an amature place to fish. Well with all the fishing going on and we finally got all settled in, something was missing. I didn't have a job. No job; unhappy wife. Unhappy wife; makes it harder to fish. Much, much harder to fish. So I went on the job hunt with little luck. I had an offer from Dover Downs, but the hours would impede upon my time with the family which was against mine and my wife's preference. I still don't quite know what propelled me to do so, but I contacted the Natural Resources Department about work. It turns out that jobs in the Fish and Wildlife field are few and far between, I got a big NO. However, I was offered an opportunity to volunteer. So I did, with the notion that I might be able to show my desire to be an outstanding employee and be offered a full-time job. After about a month somebody did end up quitting and I was able to move into that position which was seasonal. I worked the rest of the 2006 summer with Greg Murphy and Cathy Martin of Delaware Division of Fish and Wildlife earning little pay; but I loved doing what I was doing. I did research on Delaware's most prominent waters and I learned them [somewhat]. The Nanticoke River offered me the chance to see first hand what size fish was attainable in Delaware. It fueled my fire. I wanted to fish more and more. After work I was hitting the small impoundments next to the laboratory I worked out of. I did my research to find out how I could be more productive in the conditions I was fishing in. Something was growing inside me that could not and would not control.

When I Was Starting Up

About 4 or 5 years ago, I lived in San Diego, CA. I lived in the outskirts of town in Lakeside which is due east of the city. While there, I met a person who is now a very good friend of mine and at that time, I did not know, but would ultimately introduce me to the sport of bass fishing. When I first started going to the local lakes and ponds, I was not ALL interested in just catching bass. Really didn't matter to me what I was catching as long as I was catching fish. Couldn't say that today. Back then I was fishing from the banks of Santee Lakes, the quarry behind the Lakeside drive-in movies, and Miramar. Constantly, whenever I had the smallest opportunity to sneak out with my two, cheap baitcasting rods; I would head off to one of these places to further hone my skills. I am sure I have made quite a contribution to someones tackle box with all the lures I lost in all those reeds growing along every bank. I used to catch some good fish out there in SoCal. I remember I would just dream of going to Dixon or somthing and hooking into a big 10 lb. Largemouth. One day I took the day off from work and did not tell my wife. She thought I would be going to work as normal, but instead of going to work... I went to Dixon to go fishing. My fishing at that time was frowned upon by mife [girlfriend then] as she was pregnant on top of finacial difficulties and I showed no sign of slowing my habitual migration to local lakes and ponds. I was hooked! Just like the fish I was catching. So I got to Lake Dixon, and me and this Marine wher the only folks there. We both wanted to rent a boat so we went halves on one which made the trip more worth while in the end. From what I can remember; it was like June-ish and pretty damn hot. I threw everything I had at 'em but to no evail. I returned home that day having spent a total of about $60 that I didn't have and not a sigle fish to show for it. Can you say disappointment?