- Thomas Edison, Socrates, Sherlock Holmes and me – fishing for bluegills.
- Magic baits are usually not magical, but how you use them can be.
- Test, change, revise…and catch more fish.
- Practice catch and release when it makes sense.
By Jeffrey L. Frischkorn
It’s tough to behave in a manner equating yourself as an expert when you know you’re really not. Including angling. A lucky hack, yes, but a Socrates offering sage rod-and-reel advice? Not so much. Me included and likely, especially.
Maybe Thomas Edison put it best: “Success is 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration.”
And when it comes to fish, I sweat a lot. Simply put, there are no short cuts to catching fish. No magic bait, no new pro-angler-endorsed fishing outfit, no spiced-up boat platform with a cornucopia of gear heralded as the latest and thus, the greatest.
So, what about those big bluegills I catch? The answer boils down to rolling up my sleeves along with trusting my instincts. And some luck in rounding it all out. Mr. Edison, thank you.
Right now, I am closing in on catching my 50th member of the sunfish clan where each fish measures a minimum of 9-inches. Several approaching 11-inches, too. None have come from fishing from a boat, either. Not one. If you want, I can repeat that fact. It’s important to remember.
I began my fishing quest – and will end it – from the bank. I started with a light, long, ultra-light rod that is no longer made, and a spinning reel plucked from a display hook at a generic tackle store.
Likewise, I prefer those foam plastic torpedo-shaped bobbers, or “floats.” Such bobbers, I have found, offer less resistance to the forces of a bluegill pulling it under than are those round foam bobbers. Excuse me, “floats.”
I did have to twist my arm for the late season bluegill bite by downsizing both the fishing line and bobbers. While my toolbox a few months back relied on 1/16-ounce jigs and 8-pound test main line, I have scaled back to 6-pounds test main line and 1/32-ounce jigs with minimalist strands of multi-colored hair and a brightly painted head. Not feathers, but hair. Personal choice.
As the season has progressed, I also moved from casting near the bank to lobbing the bait further out. I surmised the fish were suspending and not orientating themselves to the contour of the bottom. Just the opposite of what I was anticipating.
Similarly, I self-taught that an 18-inch strand of 4-pound leader material attached to a barrel swivel – which is also tied to the main line – beats the 8-pound test/6-pound test package I used all summer.
That’s the thing about us anglers: we seem to try different things when the fish are not biting. Thus, when the new lure, the new technique, the new whatever doesn’t work, we mistakenly blame that lack of success on the just-applied thingamabob or must-perform writer-approved procedure.
Case in point. Of course, live bait works better when the water cools. It doesn’t take a Sherlock to figure that one out. Yet even though I was doing just fine with tipping a jig with a trio of maggots, I got to wondering if this methodology could be improved upon. In short, I revisited my thinking in midstream for no other reason than because I wanted to test a thought.
Consequently, I hit on adding those small artificial products that come in those always leaking bottles of artificial “live bait” that Berkley makes. So, I began using Berkley’s pink-colored artificial grubs, two of them along with three real live maggots.
Before I forget, remember when I said no boats are required? That’s true. For my bluegill fishing I have a pair of walk-around ponds that are included in the membership of two sportsmen’s clubs I belong to. Neither pond is more than a few acres in size. And yet I fish the daylights out of them by strolling along their respective bank, driven by the blessed thrill of experimentation.
I’m not alone. I have a young friend who regularly catches trophy bass from a heavily fished pond in the center of our county’s largest city. And then in a place that everyone else says bass do not go. And with top-water lure models made popular back in Grandpa’s Day, as well.
But that kid and I do not give up. And, bluntly, neither should you. Before abandoning a particular body of water, given it a minimum of three tries, four if the waters are close to home.
And in the Before I Forget, Part II, neither that kid nor I keep any of the fish. We each figure that trophy bass as such are too valuable to be caught only once. But I digress.
In the end, scuttle the notion you can buy your way to successful angling. You really can’t. Maybe most importantly, don’t fret about failure. Such lapses reward you more than a successful fishing trip can ever do.
Rest assured, too, there will come a time when you have that “eureka” moment, discovering your own key has unlatched the fishing treasure box with no help from anyone else. Me included.