Sunday August 1st, 2010. Arch nemesis: Upper Chesapeake Bay. Made it to the ramp on time despite my usual missed turn in Galena that sends me into Sassafras instead of Turner's Creek. It's still all good. Left Bob, LEFT damn it! Fellow club members, queue laughter. I figured going into this tournament I would just fish it like I fish the Potomac this time. A lot of the characteristics are similar if not the same and I usually do very well on the Potomac. I don't fish the Upper Chessie very much because that place just gives me bad vibes. I don't deny it's productivity and credentials as a world class bass fishery, it just gives me an uneasy feeling about navigation and basic mechanics of fishing there. It has a reputation for tearing up boats and gear and the fish tend to get widespread cases of lockjaw. I would advise greenhorns to use extreme caution here and learn it at a very slow pace. Take a couple of YEARS to learn the ins and outs of fishing the various tributaries and navigating them. Don't force yourself to learn it by fishing tournaments on the Upper Chesapeake because it will do to you what it has done to me. Discourage, rape your confidence and beat up your gear. My only saving grace is that I was born with a gift. Having nerves of steel and a head as hard as diamond... I'll learn it, just the hard way. You should learn it by learning from mine and others mistakes. A while back I vowed to never return to fish there again. That's not a good idea since a lot of the area's major tournaments are staged either on the North East or the Sassafras. (Both tributaries of the Chesapeake)
I started off in this tournament with high hopes of at least bringing in a few fish. From talking to other seasoned anglers of the water, I knew about a grass bed directly across the Sassafras from Turner's Creek. I made a B line to that location and immediately started finesse fishing a tiny T rigged creature bait, focusing on the area between shoreline structure and the edge of the grass. I was getting little bites but nothing would full on take it away. I put it down and grabbed a favorite spinnerbait of mine and the second cast, about half way through the retrieve, a 22 inch striper nailed it. I figured that the early morning light would do those blades justice and I was getting what I thought was a signal from the fish. I left the trolling motor on and continued up the shoreline and got another hammering hit from another rockfish who was evidently making his morning rounds near a duck blind. I decided to cut my losses in this area because after all, I'm not in a striped bass tournament.
I moved all the way across the bay to an area close to Aberdeen. Since I was getting hits from the spinnerbait I just stuck with it and fished it past indentations in the grass line. I ended up with 8 more frigg'n stripers on the end of my line, ranging in size; the largest at about 19 inches. That information that took me about 3 and a half hours to get put me in a decision making situation. I had to decide if I was going to move out of the area or stay put and just switch things up a bit. I could have made about a 30 minute ride into the Susquehanna or try fishing inside the grass I was already at, where I predicted the bass might be escaping the hot weather.
The beds I was near had holes scattered about in the middle of them. Another signature they carried was a drop after the edge. I felt this was a good plan and grabbed the flipp'n rod and got at it. My targets were the holes, edge and sparse grass clumps on the drop off. None of which produced a single bite on my Big Show Craw. Out of time, luck and steam, I headed back to the ramp with empty buckets. To end on an up note though, in passing a big fishing cruiser as I neared the mouth of the Sassafras; some nice looking ladies thought it necessary to flash their very beautiful tits as I rode by at 60 mph. Thank you whoever you girls are. My crap day of fishing was instantly forgotten.
