I’ve heard some very strange ‘truths’ in the fishing department over the years. From the obscure to the most rudimentary, they all have one thing in common; a belief that cannot be challenged no matter the evidence to the contrary. Some border on common sense that we all share.
For instance, hooks are necessary.
It starts to unravel a bit when that hook must be of a certain variety, color or size; or that crank bait must be of a certain color and by a certain maker. As the old saw goes, everything I sell is designed to catch fish, or fishermen. Supposing this is true, must you really have that jerk bait in Monkey Puke, or that in-line spinner, only with a red eye or white hair? Terrifying as it may seem, sometimes there are no alternatives in a given situation, such as we have been led to understand, and we must break free of our paradigms, our superstitions if you will and reach deep into the tackle box and blaze off in a new direction…as painful as it seems.
I carry two rigs with me. Some are content with one whenever they show up and open the bail or push that button. Watch the pros and the number of combos strewn across the deck boggles the mind. They work their water to a froth, attempting to determine what magic is required in any given situation. Working a jerk bait when they should have been on the bottom: dragging a worm across a flat when they should have been chugging at the break. And in each and every instance we constantly wonder if we’d only done something just a bit different with the same lure in the same spot, or totally different in a spot just to the right or left, or a mile from where we stood in wonder at the frustration of it all…it can be maddening.
And when success occurs we take note. One small piece of information overlooked and the notes are worthless. The second guessing begins and the empirical truths fly. The sentence begins, “They’re only hitting the RoadRunner in chartreuse”…and then we fail to finish the sentence, “Or else the fish starve!”
The essence of the dilemma, what works, what does not, our tackle containers are full of hope, of fish not yet seen, full of tugs not quite felt…yet. It boils down to confidence, really. We will work that lure forever and when we fail to get bit, well, they just aren’t biting that particular day…or were they? I have fallen prey to this situation as we all have. A couple light taps then, nothing. I’ll inevitably switch and when the switch fails to produce, on to plan ’C’. I’ll blame the weather, the clarity, the drop in water level, the moon…you name it. You should have been here yesterday.
Man, I hate to hear those words. They are right up there with the four words every fisherman hates to hear, “What a beautiful day”. So, when in doubt, just fish. The method is personal, the results fleeting. If it were easy…and all that. We’re a proud bunch. Nothing hurts more than thinking that you have found the pattern, solved the problem as if you’ve just unraveled the meaning of life, only to see that pattern smashed by the lack of results, or worse yet, bettered by someone we thought to be beneath our abilities.
The competition is between you and the fish. When we begin to develop other competitors in our mind, that is when the frustrations truly mount. How in the heck did that three year old out-fish me? Chance encounter, he or she got lucky. It sure wasn’t brilliance on their part. He was using a perch patterned WallyDiver. So, we go to the store and they are sold out, word got around and the supply won’t be replenished for another week, and we storm out of the store. Silly.
Herein lies the dilemma. That kid could have thrown anything that grows in a tackle shop, or a piece of yarn from his sweater and that fish would have nailed it. The narrowness of our path towards the pursuit of the next great catch can be unhealthy. If we just relax and take our time, factor in everything we know the luck will come. Little can we know that it was a break in the clouds that caused a flash of sunlight through a crest in a wave that flickered across the tail of that bait just at the right instant…but we’ll swear by that color, won’t we? I play the percentages. I find that when I do my chances increase greatly. The percentages don’t lie. They are there if we only open our eyes to them. Unless you threw a lure of every particular color or pattern and shape that it comes in until you got bit the questioning and hair splitting becomes unsupportable.
Back to percentages. Color catches anglers. I will argue that point to my death bed. Give me vibration every time. I’m not there to entice a strike with the right pattern, I’m there to be the fly on the nose, the lap dog in the pitbull’s back yard. Nature abhors weakness so I will proceed with timidity with the most timid lures I can find and when I stick to this approach my own percentages improve. Just a foot deeper. That is my calling card. Color…shmuller. Give me white, black, silver, pearl, brown and that is probably too many. Scent isn’t even on the radar. I’m not there to feed…I’m there to provoke a strike. It they’re tasting it…tough, I’ve already set the hook. When I’m fishing I do not use the word “feed”.
Hey, I sell a lot of stuff. It’s all there for the taking in this wonderful, free enterprise system of ours. You can have 99% of it. I stick to the basics of vibration and find that my wallet suffers enough, from that alone. Why would I try to split that hair? Why would I want to suffer so much second guessing by factoring in scent, color, and all the rest? To be truthful, it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans against vibration and that is an empirical truth you can bank on. Tone it down, take a deep breath, keep it simple and the variations in the simplicity alone will keep you busy for eternity, and that is an empirical truth that stops the frustration and leads to gratification of the highest order. Or not.
Iowa Sportsman
http://www.iowasportsman.com/article.php/20090704074155867