Tuesday, March 24, 2015

The Agony of Defeat or The Pride of Turning a Corner

                                   
The conditions for FLW BFL Gator division #3 on Okeechobee were not ideal. The water temperatures had dropped over 10 degrees all over the lake. The wind still wouldn't decide which direction it was going to blow. The wind didn't have any problem blowing all out (15-20mph) even if it couldn't figure out a direction. All reports from practice were the same. The bite is tough. Really tough.

The third BFL had us launching out of the north end of the lake on the Kissimmee river. This meant either very long runs to my known areas in the south, or really work hard at developing new areas in the north. I have never liked the north end of the lake like my beloved south. Give me Pelican Bay or South Bay well, any day. When my son and I launched for practice on Friday, I had basically laid out the north end in my head from map work. My plan was to work from the Kissimmee river south all the way to the Harney pond area. I wanted 3 to 5 big areas that would give me the kind of water that I like to fish in the south. As I said above, the conditions were rough. High cold winds, a very tough bite, and ugly water. However with persistence and moving ever farther south, Matt and I found some fantastic new water. I found all the right grass, all the right clarity, even found a spawning bay way way back in the junk that had about a thousand fresh clean beds in it. We got a few decent bites, but I was less concerned with bites. What I found was a mother load of really great water that given the warmer temps the next day should be just the ticket to an exceptional day. If only the weather once again would cooperate. My entire plan was based on the fact that air temps would be in the high 70's the next day. With mostly sunny skies the shallow waters of the great beast would warm significantly and I was pumped. In traditional Okeechobee fashion, the air temps did indeed rise. However the skies at least in my neck of the woods never cleared. The vast blanket of clouds never let the sun bake the waters. The water temps during the day only came up from 56 to 58. Let me spoil the ending for you. The guy that won ran straight across the lake to a big rock pile and worked it all day. His theory (way better than mine) was simple and well known. Rocks hold heat. He walked away with it. 

So flash back to the tournament day. I wanted to start on the area Matt and I found that had the most bites in the shortest stretch. It was a huge flat bay that had thick and many areas of scattered grasses. The water was a little more stained, but there was everything I look for. Lots of different grass, good quality water, and activity everywhere. The birds told me I was right on it. They were also everywhere. I pulled around the corner and sagged in my seat. Five boats were sitting in and around the flat doing exactly what I planned on doing. However, I noticed none of them were working directly toward the stretch that Matt and I had so many bites on. So I stayed out of the way of the boats who were already there and tried to get myself in position to work that stretch if nothing else. My co-angler caught a little keeper within minutes of arriving, so I felt good about our chances. We worked our way carefully along the far inside edge of the flat throwing a variety of moving baits. I was throwing my favorite Lock Jaw Jigs 3D eye jig with a Mister Twister bait that is not quite ready for prime time (its in production not released and still not authorized to share so shhhhh). My co-angler caught his little keeper on a spinner bait. I rotated between all of my standards. Even dead sticking a Mister Twister Comida (soft stick bait).  The bites weren't coming and we kept getting edged away from the best grass area by the press of other boats. I am very conscious of other boats and not being that jerky guy that runs right across someone else's line. We were all working the same area but along similar lines not interfering with each other. It was actually a very nice display on all of our parts. However, as the inside line guy I ran out of real estate way faster than everyone else. I knew the bite was going to stay tough for most of the day, so I was decisive and strategic and made a move to my second spot. My second spot was a dream in terms of perfect water. It had mats, hydrilla, lillys, scattered cane, and all manner of other cover including brush all in perfect water clarity. 

I started in this area throwing top water because the area screamed top water. I was covering water and as I pulled up to each of the mats in the area I punched them with my go to combo. I use a 1 1/2 tungsten weight a 4/0 Trokar flipping hook carrying a Mister Twister Poc'it craw in Okeechobee Craw color. I add a good line of Rage Fish Attractant to the craw and weight work it in good all over the bait. This gives me a good deal of confidence because, I truly believe and have seen in action the fish hold onto the bait a little longer that way. Within the first 15 minutes I got bit in a mat. I pitched the craw into the center of a small mat, saw the whole mat quiver (the dream of all flippers), got bit, and smashed into a really decent fish. Three cranks and I had the fish and half the mat at the edge of the boat, but lost it right as my co-angler went for the net. It was probably only 3 or 4 pounds, and the risk reward in mat punching is pretty high or low depending on your or the fishes perspective. I wish my co had moved quicker, but bottom line is I didn't land the fish. That's on me not my co. Once again though I knew I was in a decent area pretty quickly. I had two more decent flipping bites, but no hookups. My best guess on those was not letting them eat the bait. I was hitting them too quick. We worked all over this area remarking on just how perfect (but cold) the water was. We moved around a lot trying the far inside, middle, and far outside grass lines with everything but the kitchen sink. 

At this point in a tournament day I would normally be wound tighter than a drum and my mind would be playing dangerous games with my thinking. However I am extremely proud of how I handled the day to that point. I had moved around, thought on my feet, and was trying everything I had at my disposal to make something happen. This is the beginning of the true turning point in my tournament fishing as a boater. I knew I was being smart. I was doing everything right.

At this point, we decided to make a run to the big spawning bay I had found. There was a chance that some fish were still hanging around or with the warming air temps the fish might pull back in there. It's tricky getting in there, but I managed it like I've been doing it for years. Again a real turning point for me. Previously I wouldn't have done something like run on plane in 2.5 feet of water down a tight cut and maneuvering into a place like this. But I was fishing to win. There is a hard to describe difference I felt out there that day. I'm sure guys who have done this much longer than me already know this feeling, but it is new to me and part of my growth in the sport. I knew at a core level that I was doing everything right to win. I was fishing for big fish exactly like I needed to win. One thing I do have to make sure of in the future though is using a push pole in a place like that. Very thick and hard to manage the boat. There were beds everywhere and some fish movement. Because I couldn't be as stealthy as necessary, I fished the beds I couldn't see way out in front of me. I caught three little bucks back there who I think had early aspirations of being daddy's. They were all just shy of 12 inches so still no keepers. We worked all around this bay hunting some bedding fish that never materialized. The water temps in this shallow bay had improved to 60 degrees but still not enough to really draw them back in there. Again though, I was doing it right. I was trying everything that you should try. I had found very healthy areas, and I was working them methodically waiting for the bite to come to me. I continued to believe even as late as 3pm (ck in 5pm) that they would turn on and if I stayed working in my best areas, the bite would happen and we would get good real quick.

We left the little bucks behind to hit my first area one more time now that the boats had cleared out. We worked the best part of the grass line one more time but didn't waste time when the bite still didn't materialize. I decided to start heading back towards the launch ramp with three more good spots on the way back. Again all of this water was perfect in every technical sense and I was fishing with tons of confidence even though I still didn't have a fish in the live well. I was fishing with way more confidence than makes rational sense, but that is the part I am the most proud of.  I was not lost in my head feeling sorry for myself and making excuses. I was fishing hard fast and with purpose.

After trying my best remaining spot my co-angler suggested we finish the day on Kings Bar a community area very close to the ramp. He said its almost a guaranteed late afternoon bite which I had heard before as well. This is another one of those places on Okeechobee that just makes it one of the most special places on earth if you're a bass fisherman. There is everything here. Cane, lilly pads, mats of all kinds, hydrilla all over, penny wart, everything. Again, even with an hour left in the fishing day, I knew I could still win this tournament. One wave of big girls pulling in here off the main lake for a late afternoon feeding session, and I could win this tournament in a blink. The true turning point folks right there. Let me repeat that. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could still win this thing. I fished like a machine. I fished with confidence. I fished exactly how you have to if you ever expect to be a winner in this game. I am very proud of making that turn in the road. The best part. I was still having fun. I was still enjoying every sight sound and moment standing on the deck of my bass boat leaving behind all the rest of the world for those brief few hours living the dream.

Unfortunately nothing happened except my co caught a monster pickeral that for a moment made us think he was about to win big bass. I scored my first zero in the BFL's as a boater. But looking back I have zero regrets. I have zero shoulda, coulda, woulda's. I fished like I know what I am doing. I am proud of making this turn in the road. I wish the results had been better, but truly this was as gratifying a loss as I could ever wish for. I executed the day like you have too to win. This knowledge and this confidence is exactly why I will succeed. Tight lines everyone. Never stop learning. Never stop dreaming. Peace.


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