I have to say, not a bad finish for my first full season on the ESB trail. I finished 4th overall in points and fished the State Championship Tournament, pulling 40th in my first as a co-angler. Now that it is all said and done, I can think back on different things that could use some change, and the other things that worked out for me and build on that to improve for the 2010 season which is already well under way.
Starting with the State Championships, I had no idea. I'll just say that. When you are so used to being in control of your own boat. Having first shot on new water and fishing at your pace, and then all that is taken away and you are no longer in control, you have to adjust to a different pace. Quite possibly, you may end up changing your entire style. All this on tournament day; for me it spelled total disaster. I did what I could to hold on and not zero each day, which I didn't. But I think mentally, that was the goal I eventually set for myself. "Just don't zero. Whatever you do." And that attitude was not going to get me anywhere beyond 40th place.
Things I would do differently now: For one, I would be out there learning the ropes of being a co-angler before tournament day. If you have never really fished in the back, you better learn how it works way before you go out with money on the line. Essentially, you are competing, knowing you have a distinct handicap from all the other anglers out on the water on the front of a boat. These are learning experiences only learned through trial and error. So for those of you that are new to the sport, my advice to you is this. Expose yourself to as many situations you can present to yourself. Get the experience of being in different scenarios so that when it occurs again, you be ready to answer the call by using the last experience as a gauge.
Having already kicked off the 2010 season at Chesapeake Bay, the struggle to get and stay on top is unrelenting. Out of the old and right into the new. No break yet, not until January. The tournament last Saturday [a complete train wreck on my part] and again, another learning experience. Knowledge of this fishery is key to any kind of success. You just can't go there and slay the bass without pre-meditated planning of your game plan. I had a game plan, but too much of it depended on game time decisions that were more like guesses than sound, educated decisions. The weather for the day was snotty. Gale winds up to 30 mph, rain on and off and high water all day. The bay was inaccessible and dangerous so I opted not to attempt a cross over to the Susquehanna river. It was off limits anyway due to the weather. My game time [guess] was made and I B lined it to Lloyd's Creek. Within, there was a grassy cove with a wooded shoreline and it was heavily shielded from the high wind by way of a towering cliff. I thought to myself "At some point in the day, the fish here will bite." I would run the shore line with a ribbon-tail worm and a lipless crankbait, then at the end, switch sides and cover the edge of the grass bed with a beaver tail pegged to a 1 ounce weight to punch it through the grass. I had the whole area to myself all day long; and all day long I went back and forth stubbornly with the same tactic waiting for the bait switch to activate. Never even had a bite!
On an even more horrible note, as the wind picked up more and more, the gusting bursts of wind started to penetrate my area intermittently. Just fishing, minding my own business I just happened to look over an witness on of my $650 rod/reel combos get inched a little to far off the side of my gunwale and it went in. My heart instantly shattered to pieces and I leaped back to the driver's seat to set a man-overboard marker. For the next hour and a half or more, I would try to no avail to hook up on my sunken treasure. Surely lost forever I gave up on it and returned to the the ramp hopelessly defeated by those Chesapeake bass. My fellow club members can tell you, I was about as angry as a man can get. No fish and down 1 $650 rod plus the cost of gas. Total LOSS all around on the day not to mention the 2 $10 crankbaits I will have to replace. I vowed never to return to fish and events of any kind on this particular body of water. An unrealistic threat, but at the time felt good to say. Obviously that was a threat I can't keep as that is one of the most popular tournament waters in this area.
On my way back home I began to contemplate the possibilities of getting my combo back out of the water. At the time, I had not had enough weight to keep a hook plastered to the bottom, so I never had a real chance of getting back that day. I could go back the next day, but if the current moves it I'll never find it. I concluded that for $650 it was worth going back with the right tools to try and get it back. My ramp pass was good for the next day so why not give it a shot.
I went back first thing in the morning with a big 3 oz. sinker and a big treble hook. I tied it on and affixed the sinker/barge anchor about an inch up the line from the hook. My MOB marker was still active leading me straight to the site of my lost crew member. On arrival I used the little bit of current and wind to drag the rig across the bottom. It only took about 10 or 11 passes and I could tell I had snagged an object of some kind. I noticed I was about 12 feet from my marker so I was not all that excited but when it surfaced, sure enough I was rewarded with one recovered rod and reel. Definition of near disaster.
Starting with the State Championships, I had no idea. I'll just say that. When you are so used to being in control of your own boat. Having first shot on new water and fishing at your pace, and then all that is taken away and you are no longer in control, you have to adjust to a different pace. Quite possibly, you may end up changing your entire style. All this on tournament day; for me it spelled total disaster. I did what I could to hold on and not zero each day, which I didn't. But I think mentally, that was the goal I eventually set for myself. "Just don't zero. Whatever you do." And that attitude was not going to get me anywhere beyond 40th place.
Things I would do differently now: For one, I would be out there learning the ropes of being a co-angler before tournament day. If you have never really fished in the back, you better learn how it works way before you go out with money on the line. Essentially, you are competing, knowing you have a distinct handicap from all the other anglers out on the water on the front of a boat. These are learning experiences only learned through trial and error. So for those of you that are new to the sport, my advice to you is this. Expose yourself to as many situations you can present to yourself. Get the experience of being in different scenarios so that when it occurs again, you be ready to answer the call by using the last experience as a gauge.
Having already kicked off the 2010 season at Chesapeake Bay, the struggle to get and stay on top is unrelenting. Out of the old and right into the new. No break yet, not until January. The tournament last Saturday [a complete train wreck on my part] and again, another learning experience. Knowledge of this fishery is key to any kind of success. You just can't go there and slay the bass without pre-meditated planning of your game plan. I had a game plan, but too much of it depended on game time decisions that were more like guesses than sound, educated decisions. The weather for the day was snotty. Gale winds up to 30 mph, rain on and off and high water all day. The bay was inaccessible and dangerous so I opted not to attempt a cross over to the Susquehanna river. It was off limits anyway due to the weather. My game time [guess] was made and I B lined it to Lloyd's Creek. Within, there was a grassy cove with a wooded shoreline and it was heavily shielded from the high wind by way of a towering cliff. I thought to myself "At some point in the day, the fish here will bite." I would run the shore line with a ribbon-tail worm and a lipless crankbait, then at the end, switch sides and cover the edge of the grass bed with a beaver tail pegged to a 1 ounce weight to punch it through the grass. I had the whole area to myself all day long; and all day long I went back and forth stubbornly with the same tactic waiting for the bait switch to activate. Never even had a bite!
On an even more horrible note, as the wind picked up more and more, the gusting bursts of wind started to penetrate my area intermittently. Just fishing, minding my own business I just happened to look over an witness on of my $650 rod/reel combos get inched a little to far off the side of my gunwale and it went in. My heart instantly shattered to pieces and I leaped back to the driver's seat to set a man-overboard marker. For the next hour and a half or more, I would try to no avail to hook up on my sunken treasure. Surely lost forever I gave up on it and returned to the the ramp hopelessly defeated by those Chesapeake bass. My fellow club members can tell you, I was about as angry as a man can get. No fish and down 1 $650 rod plus the cost of gas. Total LOSS all around on the day not to mention the 2 $10 crankbaits I will have to replace. I vowed never to return to fish and events of any kind on this particular body of water. An unrealistic threat, but at the time felt good to say. Obviously that was a threat I can't keep as that is one of the most popular tournament waters in this area.
On my way back home I began to contemplate the possibilities of getting my combo back out of the water. At the time, I had not had enough weight to keep a hook plastered to the bottom, so I never had a real chance of getting back that day. I could go back the next day, but if the current moves it I'll never find it. I concluded that for $650 it was worth going back with the right tools to try and get it back. My ramp pass was good for the next day so why not give it a shot.
I went back first thing in the morning with a big 3 oz. sinker and a big treble hook. I tied it on and affixed the sinker/barge anchor about an inch up the line from the hook. My MOB marker was still active leading me straight to the site of my lost crew member. On arrival I used the little bit of current and wind to drag the rig across the bottom. It only took about 10 or 11 passes and I could tell I had snagged an object of some kind. I noticed I was about 12 feet from my marker so I was not all that excited but when it surfaced, sure enough I was rewarded with one recovered rod and reel. Definition of near disaster.
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