Second Bass Outing – Lesson Unnecessarily Learned Again

I had a chance to fish for bass in Seattle’s Lake Union yesterday afternoon for a short stint of 45 minutes. On the way to the lake following and all-day meeting, my gut was telling me that the drop shot was the ticket. However, I let my desire and pride get in the way. I wanted to catch them on not only a crankbait, but a homemade crankbait.

The casting rig had my baby bass crankbait on and the spinning rig was prepared with the drop shot. I worked the first spot for ten minutes by way fan casting, which yielded nothing, not even any follows. I switched to the “Joker” crankbait and worked the same general area but working a spot known to hold fish. Another 10 minutes passed, in which all lengths of pauses, rips and twitches produced the same result of nothing.

I start to feel the pressure of the clock now with only about fifteen minutes left to fish so I give in halfway to my gut feeling to switch to the drop shot rig. The other half of the gut said to go with a green French fry plastic, but pride and desire wanted to use a 4” purple and white Tiki Stick rigged wacky.

I pitched the bait in the spot described above fully expected a hit, but nothing, even after ten minutes. The pressure was really on now and I dislike with a passion losing and going home skunked. With only five minutes left, I give in to the gut feeling completely and slap on the green French fry worm and put it in the same spot as I did the Tiki Stick.

Within seconds of the weight touching the bottom, I felt a hit. However, the excitement caused me to react with a jig type hook set. Doh! It was definitely a Homer Simpson moment. I quickly retrieved the rig and pitched it close to the same spot.

I felt a tiny tug that turned into nibbling. It was enough feedback to know it was a dink, but I didn’t care. The skunk and monkey finally were off my back. Right after letting it go I cast it into the same spot.

The same play repeated itself, but this time it was a heavier tug and more aggressive hit. I reeled up the line and caught a better one. This smallie looked really wide, almost like a football, such that it made the tail look like a stub. I had never seen in person such a football like smallmouth bass. I didn’t know if it was the result of it eating very well or being stuffed with eggs.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have any time left and had to head home, but I can’t help to think if I had gone with my initial gut feeling first that I might have caught more bass and much sooner too. I have followed it in the past with success, but somehow, some way, I let foolish pride and the anticipation of that glory that only comes with catching fish on something made by your own hands get in the way. Thirty minutes of wasted time versus two fish caught in less than five minutes? Yikes! This is a lesson already known, but needlessly learned once again. May you or I make that same mistake in the near or far future. I will have to think twice the next time I am tempted to call my kids hard headed or stubborn. They might say they got that from me. Doh!

Location: Lake Union, Seattle from the shore
Conditions: Partly sunny and cloudy, about 63 degrees
Gear:
Curado 101D with 10# Sufix Siege, 7’ Mag-Touch rod for crankbaits
Rapala 6Sxi with 6# Invizx, 6’6” Compre rod for soft plastics.

-ib

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