Help! I Need a Laxative... for My Fishing Line

You heard me right. I need a laxative for a spool of my 40-lb. Stren Sonic Braid. Actually, I've already packaged it up and plan to drop it in the mail tomorrow, headed back to Pure Fishing--once this nasty weather gets out of town. I've already called and let them know to be looking for my package.

I've been spooling line for a lot of years now, but it wasn't until today that I've ever encountered a new spool of line looking like it had been through a giant backlash before it was packaged. As I told the company in the letter accompanying my return, I thought line was supposed to be wound on a spool, not "bound" on it. I'm not kidding you about the "bound" bit. It was so bad I ended up cutting my finger, trying to get it unbound. I kept pulling, thinking it eventually would free up but had no such luck.

If anyone else ever has had the same experience with a new spool of line--of any kind--I'd love to hear about it. Those of you who use braid know all too well how difficult it can be to pick backlashes from your reel. Imagine trying to do a whole spool that way. Like so many other times out on the water, I just gave up. The one difference between those times and today was that I didn't break out a knife and start whacking. It was a struggle, but I kept my frustration in check.

A Short Day, Another Mixed Bag



2 channel cats (left), 4 bass (right)...

1 pickerel (left), and 5 white perch (right)...

Such was the extent of my catch for the five hours I spent in West Neck Creek today. I had planned to run to Albright's when I launched this morning but didn't like the looks of the sky and decided to stay close. Turns out that was a good decision. The black clouds, thunder, lightning, and rain moved in early this afternoon.

It didn't take me very long this morning to figure out it probably wasn't going to be the kind of day you write home about. I immediately had three fish come unbuttoned from my topwater bait on the way to the boat. I also had three fish swirl and miss on the same bait. That activity all occurred at the duck blind and in the last cove on the left before you reach the river. Once the sun started darting out from behind some of the clouds and warming things up, the topwater bite came to a screeching halt.

I ended up boating 2 bass on the topwater bait. The other 2 of them, plus all the other fish, came on a 3/8-oz. Bomber crankbait. Once again, the ticket to success with the crankbait was a slow crank-and-pause pattern--no other retrieve would work for me.

I talked to Jimmy Bauer before leaving the marina today and learned that he had boated 2 bass on soft plastics. He also picked up 5 or 6 crappie at the bridge on a flyrod.

In case you haven't already guessed, the water still is high--lapping at the end of that catwalk on the left as you face the ramp. The water temp was 80.5 when I launched, and it had gone past 82 by the time I quit. If the predicted northerly winds I saw earlier this evening come true, the level should drop some before our Saturday tourney.

From Anchor Stuck to Sitting Duck

Illustration by John Williams

After watching the last rays of a setting summer sun, I grabbed my tackle and headed toward the river bank. The thought of what I might encounter on the way, with my hands full and only moonlight as a guide, motivated me to move faster than usual.

Over the years, I had met several creatures along this narrow path that led down a hill, past the entrance to a cave, and across some railroad tracks. All of these critters weren't what I'd call friendly, especially those that slithered among the rocks and through the grass.

However, on that night about 38 years ago, I didn't meet any creeping, crawling things. But I did have an experience that I'll never forget. The recollection is as vivid as the lightning that flashed across the sky later the same night--despite a weather forecast of perfect conditions.

Once I had placed all my gear where I wanted it in a rented aluminum boat and attached the trolling motor, I headed upstream. My quarry this night wasn't the crop of feisty smallmouth bass that inhabit the Shenandoah River, but rather, the hardy catfish that lurk therein.

My favorite spot for these whiskered prey was a riffle located a couple miles from the dock. Getting there was an adventure because I had to fight a strong current, and giant submerged boulders were everywhere. For this reason, I always carried an extra prop or two for my trolling motor.

When I arrived at my favorite riffle, I first dropped the stern anchor and waited for it to settle among the boulders. Then I used the trolling motor to turn the boat nearly perpendicular to the two banks. When I thought the moment was right, I heaved the bow anchor overboard and hoped it would settle quickly enough to maintain the perpendicular position. Although this task wasn't always easy, it worked on the first try this particular night.

I hurriedly rigged my Coleman lantern, baited my hooks, and threw out my lines. A few hours later, I already was culling smaller catfish from a full stringer. Unfortunately, the furious activity had kept me from noticing what was happening around me. The stars had disappeared, the usually noisy night creatures had hushed, and the ever-so-slight breeze had vanished.

Realizing that a storm was approaching, I rushed to take in my lines and prepare for the trip back downriver. I yanked the stern anchor free of the boulders and dropped it in the boat. While the boat was swinging around the bow anchor, I turned on the trolling motor and started moving toward the spot where the bow anchor had wedged. Once there, I jerked hard with one hand, but the anchor wouldn't budge. I tried using both hands, and still the anchor held tight.

For those of you saying, "Hey, dummy, why not just cut the anchor rope?" let me set the record straight. The anchor wasn't fastened to a rope. Instead, it dangled from the end of a chain that someone had welded to the boat.

My efforts turned frantic when the first bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a deafening rumble of thunder. "What a predicament!" I thought. "On the river with an aluminum boat in the middle of a storm and an anchor that's stuck. How unlucky can one person be?" I soon had my answer to that question. When the first drops of rain hit me, I remembered leaving my rainsuit in the car because I had swallowed the weather forecast--hook, line and sinker.

At its peak, the rain fell so hard that everything around me became a blur. The lightning was so fierce I was betting I'd get fried any moment. "All the old-timers will find left of me is my charred remains," I mused.

After what seemed like an eternity, though, the rain subsided. I returned to my efforts to free the bow anchor, but it stayed stuck. "What would those old-timers do in this situation?" I wondered. Before an answer came to me, I again felt raindrops pelting my head. It didn't take me long to figure out what had happened. Like other storms I had witnessed in the area, this one had done an about-face. I was in for a second dousing.

I can't begin to explain how helpless, miserable and, yes, scared I felt at that moment. All I could do, though, was huddle in the boat, with my head down and rain running down my shirt collar, all the way to my Fruit of the Loom. I remember being amused at one point by watching my tackleboxes floating around the water in the boat.

At long last, the return rain passed, the clouds parted, and I welcomed the dawning of a new day. I bailed water until there was enough light to see how to free the anchor. On the trip downriver, I saw a family getting ready for a day's fishing from the bank. Because I wasn't in the mood to skin any catfish, I beached the boat near the people and asked them if they would like to have my catch. They gladly accepted. To save time and to avoid answering any questions about the way I looked, I handed them the fish on the stringer. "Keep everything, with my compliments," I said, as I pulled away from the shore.

Moments later, I arrived at the dock, where the perch-jerkin' old-timers sat, spinning their yarns. They looked at me a little strangely but were friendly as usual, which gave me a false sense of comfort. "Don't guess they're going to razz me," I remember thinking as I started unloading the boat.

Just then, though, one of the old-timers quipped, "By the way, sonny, didn't anyone ever teach you to come in out of the rain?"

Under different circumstances, I would have responded in kind to his jibe. This time, however, I forced a smile, picked up the rest of my gear, and headed up the hill toward my car. I vowed the next time I went fishing, I would carry my rainsuit, as well as a weather radio, a hacksaw, and--just in case the fish got lockjaw--some dynamite.

Epilog: I was the editor of Fathom magazine, published by the Naval Safety Center, when I originally wrote this article in 1994 for Safetyline magazine, another former Safety Center publication.

Boat Ramps--Where Anything Can and Often Does Happen

Not all boat-ramp evolutions go as smoothly as
the one in progress here.

I've been doing this bass-fishing thing for a lot of years now. And please don't tune me out just yet, 'cause I'm not going to lapse into a pat-on-the-back session about how great a fisherman I am. When it comes to bass fishing, I'm the first to admit that any success I've ever enjoyed in this sport has involved far more luck than any skill I may have acquired along the way.

Putting all that aside, I want to talk about some of the things I've seen, heard and/or had happen to yours truly at boat ramps. I feel like it's safe to say that anyone who has spent a lot of time around boat-launch and recovery sites have at least a few stories of their own they could share.

A Case of Mistaken Hearing

One of my earliest recollections took place at Lake Anna, which, for those who don't already know, is located in Northern Virginia. We were fishing a big open tournament when heavy thunderstorms moved in and got so vicious that officials cancelled the last few hours of fishing. The thunder, lightning, wind, rain, and hail had driven nearly everyone back to the marina. Incidentally, I said "nearly everyone" because a few participants had been forced to beach their boats around the lake and wait for a lull. It turned out that a number of us ended up having to go back out after the storm had passed and help some of those folks get their boats off the beach.

But that's getting away from the heart of this story, which is what was happening in the ramp area. Boats were everywhere, with owners dropping off partners along the shoreline to go get tow vehicles and trailers, while others hurriedly put their rigs on trailers. With lightning popping all around and, in some cases, striking trees in the area, to say the scene was one of total chaos would be a gross understatement. Anyone there knew it just was a matter of time before something bad was going to occur.

One angler had tossed his keys to his wife and asked her to go get his vehicle, while he and his partner waited in the boat. As her turn came at getting lined up and backing down the ramp, the boat owner anxiously bumped the boat's throttle into and out of gear. Then, while his wife still was inching backward with the trailer, he made a run at it, hollering "whoa," as the boat hit the bunks. I should note here that the wife, with all the rain, hail and such going on, only had cracked the driver's side window, so she undoubtedly couldn't hear very well. In any event, she evidently, instead of hearing "whoa," thought she heard "go" and dropped the gearshift into drive. All the subsequent uproar and arm waving from those watching weren't enough to make the wife stop... until the damage had been done. There lay the broken bass boat--as I later learned, a brand new one--on the ramp.

Oh, by the way, the wife finally hit the brakes, but only long enough to turn around in the driver's seat and take a quick look at what she had done. Then, she sped away. I never did hear how things turned out between the husband and her. If what the husband was shouting with clinched fist shaking in the air as she drove away was any indication, I have to seriously doubt there was any conciliation.

Although boat-recovery operations continued at a feverish pace after this incident, no more boats were damaged, no one was injured, and everyone was accounted for at final muster.

Beware Flying Winch Handles

The early '70s found me on Navy staff duty in the Washington, D.C. area, and at least one day of nearly every weekend found me at the Potomac River, Occoquan Reservoir, or Lake Anna. My trips to the latter usually were solo events, much as my trips to the North Landing River are today. One of those 0-dark-30 visits to Lake Anna, however, made an "impression" on me that I've never forgotten to this day, some 40 or so years later. It likely never will disappear from my memory bank unless, God forbid, that I, like my dear, late mother (and all of her sisters), should end up with Alzheimer's. That disease, like so many others, just genuinely sucks.

In any event, this particular Lake Anna trip got headed south when the winch mechanism on my old trailer wouldn't release right. To put this situation in proper perspective, I need to explain a couple things. As I've already said, it was 0-dark-30. I also need to point out that the ramp I was using is (or was at that time, anyway) nearly vertical. And, to make matters worse, I was stubborn back in those days (a habit my wife still swears I haven't overcome). In this situation, I wouldn't pause long enough to grab a flashlight.

So, here I am, trying to get the winch mechanism to release, so I can just let the boat slide down into the water (with winch strap still attached), then load my gear, and be off for a relaxing, fun day of bass fishing. Unfortunately, in my angst with the winch, I absent-mindedly had been getting my face ever closer and closer to it, laying myself wide open for something bad to happen. And, I'm here to tell you that it all happened in a blinding flash.

The mechanism suddenly turned loose, and the winch handle snapped around, catching me flush in the mouth. Blood flew everywhere--and here's a guy who has been known several times in his life to pass out at the sight of blood. All I can say is thank God this wasn't another such occasion. I firmly believe He watches out for us a lot of times, especially when we blow off common sense or otherwise just aren't smart enough to look out for ourselves.

Anyway, I'm standing behind my car, holding my mouth, with blood running down my arm from a cut lip and teeth that have been knocked loose from the winch handle, wondering what I should do. Absolutely no one else was around at this hour of the morning. Now anyone with sound judgment is going to be left scratching their heads for a long time when you hear what I finally decided to do in this situation. Just promise me you won't call the folks with the white jackets on me, 'cause I assure you that I've gotten smarter as I've gotten older.

I calmly walked to the water's edge, knelt down, scooped up some lake water with my free hand, tossed it in my mouth, and rinsed it out--not once but four or five times, never once thinking about all those little organisms I probably just had introduced into my system. My only concern was to get rid of some of the blood. I then walked to the car, got in, and using the overhead light and rearview mirror, adjusted the alignment of my loose teeth as best I could, then closed my mouth and kept it shut in that same position the rest of the day. Oh, and incidentally, I went ahead and loaded the boat and went fishing all day.

Once back home from that trip, I spent a lot of time rinsing my mouth with something other than lake water, but I never made an emergency trip to the dentist. And when I had my next scheduled visit, I never said a word to him about what had happened to me at Lake Anna. I figured if he detected any grossly misaligned teeth, he would say something to me, and then I'd explain, but he was mum, and so was I.

Why did I handle this situation the way I did? Was it youth being macho? I don't think so, because the only thing I remember being that day was scared. Did it somehow have something to do with what I had witnessed as a young boy, e.g., I saw my one granddad pull his own tooth with a pair of pliers to stop a toothache. Did I maybe think I had to be as tough as he was? I doubt that, too.

Regardless of the logic I used--if any at all--I lived to talk about it, and maybe by sharing the story with others, will spare them a similar fate. You also should know that I keep my boat winch today well-lubed and try to be more cautious around all things in general that I know can hurt me.

Why Are You So Nervous?

That's the question I was left pondering in my mind one morning many years ago, as I sat parked, awaiting my turn to launch my boat at West Neck Marina. I had watched the gentleman already at the ramp go to meticulous lengths to get everything just right in his boat (I once worked with a guy who actually stacked paper clips in neat rows in his desk drawer, so I know all about being meticulous), but now this fella simply was circling the boat and pickup, stopping every little bit to rub his chin like something might be wrong. I was the only other one waiting that morning, so I was trying to be patient.

Finally, though, I couldn't stand it any longer. I got out of my vehicle and walked over to where the other fella was and asked if he had a problem. His response was, "I'm nervous."

Trying not to sound too much like a smart-ass, I said, "That much I had figured out. But what are you so nervous about?"

The answer I got was, "This is a brand new boat and pickup, and I'm not sure I can get the boat in the water by myself without messing up something. I've never owned a boat before."

I couldn't help wondering how this guy had come by enough money to buy the whole package in one fell swoop, and, too, I wondered if he ever had been in a bass boat before, but I kept those thoughts to myself. With what I'm sure was a bit of a smile on my face, I instead just asked, "Would you like to have my help? I don't want anything to do with your boat, but I feel sure I can back you in the water and let you drive it off. Then if you'll just grab hold of the dock, I'll park your vehicle, hand you the keys, and you can be off."

"Oh, mister, I'd really appreciate that."

So, the fella hopped up in his boat, I very slowly backed him in, the boat floated off the trailer, I parked the vehicle, handed him the keys and wished him well, and I then stood there watching him motor away. He already had left the premises when I got back that afternoon, and I never saw him again, so I've always wondered if he kept up his bass fishing or perhaps found a hobby that didn't cause him so much anxiety.

Boat ramps--the stories are as abundant as the anglers who patronize them.

Do You Have Your Boater Education Card?

If you don't already carry one of these cards in your wallet, the next time you see a game warden coming your way, you may wish you had paid a little closer attention to the new education-compliance requirement being phased in for all Virginia boaters. Here is how this requirement is being applied:

     * All PWC operators, regardless of age, and motorboat operators 30 years of age or younger shall meet the requirements by July 1, 2012.
     * Motorboat operators 40 years of age or younger shall meet the requirements by July 1, 2013.
     * Motorboat operators 45 years of age or younger shall meet the requirements by July 1, 2014.
     * Motorboat operators 50 years of age or younger shall meet the requirements by July 1, 2015.
     * All motorboat operators, regardless of age, shall meet the requirements by July 1, 2016.

Vessel operators who are required to have a Boater Education Card must carry the card on board the vessel and have it available for inspection by an enforcement officer.

All states that have mandatory boater-education requirements will accept the Virginia Boater Education Card. Likewise, Virginia will accept boating-education cards that are issued by states that meet the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators (NASBLA).

The Virginia Boater Education Card is proof that you have successfully completed an approved boating safety course. Since this card doesn't expire and does not need to be renewed, it is not called a Virginia Boating License. Nevertheless, it is the law, and all boaters are expected to comply.

For complete details, go to: http://www.boat-ed.com/virginia/boating_card.html.

A Smorgasboard Sort of Day



1 of each of these...

and 1 of these on the left, and 7 of these on the right...

That was the extent of my day on the water today.

With the even higher water today than yesterday and with the way the clouds started breaking up this morning, I decided to run to the back of Albright's, as I wanted to do yesterday. Immediately tried to establish a topwater bite, to no avail. The gar were everywhere, so that could have been part of the problem. The first several crankbaits I tried also proved to be useless. It wasn't until I tied on a 1/4-oz. Bomber that I actually caught my first fish--a white perch. A straight retrieve with that bait didn't even work. I had to shift to a crank-and-pause pattern before the bites started coming. That one lure accounted for all my fish today.

Met up with Skip Schaible in West Neck Creek just before I quit. He asked how I'd done, and when I told him, he said, "I'm glad to see I'm not alone. I was afraid I was holding my mouth wrong." From that, I interpreted that he had pretty much the same kind of day as I had. Also saw Joe McDevitt's vehicle and trailer in the parking lot, but never saw him on the water, so didn't have a chance to find out how he had done.

This will be my last outing until after the holiday weekend. I have no intentions of mixing it up with that crowd. Some of them already were showing up today to check out their boats and jet skis. Good luck to anybody planning to hit the water.

Lots of Water, Lots of Baitfish, Lots of Swirls and Short Strikes...

But I only got 3 fish in the boat today, and 1 of them was a white perch. Caught both bass on a Bang-o-Lure and the white perch on a Thin N.

With the high water, I knew I should go to the back of Albright's again, but the threat of t-storms kept me "close to home." I stayed in West Neck Creek from 7:30 to 12:45, when a line of showers moved through. I had watched the clouds darken up all day and was smart enough to return to the ramp and get my boat on the trailer before the rain started falling.

I don't mind getting wet when there's a tourney going on, or when I'm catching fish fairly consistently, but when I'm only dragging water like I was most of today, I'm not about to sit there and get all shriveled up like a prune. The way I see it is this: I have nothing to prove at this stage of my life. Furthermore, my mama always taught me to come in out of the rain unless there was a good reason not to. And given the fact she lived to be 84, and my dad lived to be 88, I figure I'd do well to listen to what they told me.

Anyway, I'm headed back to the creek tomorrow to see if I can improve on today's tally. This evening's weather forecast made it sound like there's a decreased chance of t-storms tomorrow, so perhaps I won't be as hesitant to run to Albright's.

2012 Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourney Schedule/Rules and Regs

If you're a local newcomer and/or never have fished out of West Neck Marina in Virginia Beach, you may not be aware that we hold bass tournaments every couple weeks or so. We usually start in late March or early April and conclude in October.

The 2012 season is in full swing now, and if you're even remotely interested in joining us, here's our complete tourney schedule, as well as our rules and regs:

2012

Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourneys

Schedule

(Subject to change because of weather/water conditions)

(Note: All tourneys will start at safe light, so times listed below are only a general guide.)

March 31 (0700-1500)                   August 4 (0600-1400)
                                                             18 (0630-1430)
April 14 (0630-1430)                               25 (0630-1430)
         21 (0630-1430)
                                                   September 8 (0630-1430)
May 5 (0600-1400)                                       22 (0700-1500)
      12 (0600-1400)                                       29 (0700-1500)

June 2 (0600-1400)                        October 13-14 (Classic weekend,
        9 (0600-1400)                              with cookout following early
       23 (0600-1400)                              weigh-in Sunday) (Fishing hours
                                                           Sat. 0700-1500, Sun. 0700-1300)

July 14 (0600-1400)
        28 (0600-1400)

Note: This schedule reflects observance of the following holidays/holiday weekends and special events:

Easter (April 8)
Mother's Day (May 13)
Region 7 Intercoastal Waterway Tourney (May 19)
Memorial Day (May 28)
Cancer Classic (June 10)
Father's Day (June 17)
Independence Day (July 4)
Labor Day (September 3)
Region 7 Open (Don Sprinkle) (October 7)
BFN Fall Classic (October 20-21)
TBF Fall Classic (October 27-28)

2012

Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourneys

Rules & Regulations

Entry Fees 

Tournament: $25 per angler, except for two-day Classic, in which entry     fee will be $50 per angler. (To be eligible to fish the Classic,  anglers must have fished at least 4 other tourneys during 2012.)

Big Bass Pot (optional): $5 per angler, except for two-day Classic, in     which the fee will be $10 per angler. (Note: This fee must have been paid prior to start of tournament to be eligible to win.)

Season Lunker Pot (optional): $2 per angler (Note: This fee must have been paid for and angler must have fished in at least 9 tournaments to be eligible to win.)

(Note: $5 ramp/parking fee also will be collected, along with the entry and pot fees, from all participants, except those who store their  boats at West Neck Marina and have unlimited ramp usage as part of their rental agreement.)


Payouts

10%, or $2.50, of each participant's entry fee for each regular tourney, and $5 of each participant's entry fee in the Classic, will be Dewey's cut. A $2 fee (or approximately 1% of the total money collected) also will be taken off the top at each tourney to pay the annual renewal cost of the maintenance contract for the digital scales used in our tourneys. (Note: This maintenance contract ensures our scales get repaired or replaced should they ever break.) The remainder, amounting to approximately 89% of the total purse collected, will be paid out as follows:

     2-9 anglers: 1st place, no split
     10-19 anglers: 1st & 2nd places, split 60-40
     20-29 anglers: 1st, 2nd & 3rd places, split 50-30-20
     30-39 anglers: 1st, 2nd, 3rd & 4th places, split 50-25-15-10
     40-49 anglers: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th & 5th places, split 50-20-15-10-5
    50-59 anglers: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th & 6th places, split 42-27-11-
                           9-6-5

                                        
 Tournament Rules

* Sportsmanship and honesty are rule No. 1.

* Livewells of all participating boats must be checked before the start
    of each tournament.

* Largemouth bass only, 12-inch minimum, 5-fish limit per boat.
   No more than 5 fish shall be in a boat's livewell at any time during a
   tournament. That means if/when you catch a 6th fish, you cull
   immediately--no keeping a 6th fish in the livewell in case one dies on
   you.

* Artificial baits only--no live bait, even as trailers. Likewise, umbrella
   rigs are not allowed. Anyone caught using such a rig automatically
   will be disqualified.

* Life jackets must be worn anytime the outboard motor is in operation.

* Dead fish penalty: 4 ounces (or 0.25, in decimal numbers) per dead fish.

* Short fish (less than 12 inches): individual/team loses that short fish
   and biggest fish as a penalty.

* All boats/participants must be within the boat basin (e.g., that area     
   located directly in front of the marina store) by scheduled weigh-in
   time to avoid disqualification--no exceptions. As you approach this
   area, remember that you're in a "no wake" zone (e.g., don't cut your
   return so close that you have to ignore the "no wake" signs.) All fish
   must be weighed in prior to trailering boats. 
  
* The area between the channel marker with the "off limits to tournament
   fishing" sign and the boat basin is forbidden territory for all tournament
   anglers. Any participants caught fishing in that area on tournament day
   will be disqualified.     

* Any weather/water conditions that may place participants in harm's
    way will be cause to cancel a scheduled tournament. Dewey (the
    tournament director) will have final say in allowing boats to launch.
   All participants who desire notification of such actions in advance
   (when possible) should ensure they have provided Ken Testorff (the
   tournament organizer) a phone number (home and/or cell), as well as an
   email address.
  
* In case of a tie for big bass, largest total weight of the tied
   individuals/teams will be the deciding factor. In similar fashion, a tie
   for largest total weight will be decided by the big bass of the tied
   individuals/teams.
    
* While participants generally are discouraged from leaving their boats
    during tournament hours, it's recognized we can't always control the 
   urgency of normal bodily functions. Accordingly, anyone who needs to
   make an emergency "pit stop" has two options: You may stop in a
   secluded area along a stretch of shoreline, as long as you leave all
   fishing equipment in the boat and return there immediately after taking
   care of business. Or, you may call Dewey (or his appointed substitute
   tourney director) and arrange permission to return to West Neck Marina
   and use the toilet facilities there. If you choose the latter option, you
   must tie off your boat at the dock in front of the store--NOT at the ramp.
   Anyone who doesn't follow this guidance is automatically disqualified
   from the day's competition.

* The digital scales for which we have a maintenance contract will
   continue to be used for weigh-in at all of our tournaments. The scales
   will be set to measure in decimal numbers, and the AC power cord
   always must be used to ensure accuracy. The tournament organizer or
   volunteers familiar with operation of the scales are allowed and
   encouraged to assist the tournament director at all weigh-ins,
   especially if they arrive ahead of the others. The ideal situation is to
   have one person doing the weighing, and another person entering the
   numbers on the weigh-in sheet.

Making the Best of a Bad Situation

Boats start returning for weigh-in.

By Ken Testorff

A few familiar faces from the Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourney Series were among those Virginia Region 7 anglers who braved the high winds and low water--make that low, "chocolate" water--to fish the Saturday, May 19, 2012, tournament out of Munden Point Park.

It certainly wasn't a day for fishing creeks, except those deeper ones. I talked to angler Danny Knight, who said he and his partner, Mike White, of the Princess Anne Bassmasters, only could get about 300 yards in one of their favorites before they ran out of water. Danny went on to note that the low, muddy water had North Landing River's supply of bowfin and catfish all stirred up and turned on--he had to wrestle a big one of each specie during the day's fishing. Meanwhile, he and his partner only boated a couple of keeper bass before calling it quits a little ahead of time.

Wayne Hayes (left) weighs the bag of fish
brought in by Craig (right) and Susan Owens.

The day's top honors among the field of 51 boats went to the Virginia Bassmasters team of Craig and Susan Owens, who had an 8-bass limit weighing 20.44 lbs. Their bag included two hefty fish--one over 4 lbs. and another over 5 lbs. Big-fish honors, however, went to Marty Cole of the Backwoods Anglers, with a bass weighing 5.37 lbs. He and his partner, Jeff Hayden, also captured second place in yesterday's tournament, with a total weight of 16.73 lbs.


Those anglers from the Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourney Series who fished yesterday finished the wind-tossed event as follows: In 11th place was the County Bassmasters team of Chris Napier and Alan Dean, with 8 fish weighing 13.78 lbs.; in 20th place was the Confederate Bass Anglers team of Rob Peppers and Al Napier, with 8 fish weighing 10.34 lbs.; and in 22nd place was the Performance Fishing Team of Wayne Hayes and Chris Sims, with 7 fish weighing 9.7 lbs.

(Left) Kevin Massie and his partner, Vince Stuccio, recover their boat.
(Right) Wayne Hayes and his partner, Chris Sims, recover their rig.

Overall 2012 Region 7 tournament standings (through three of four tournaments for the 128 members) show the team of Chris Napier and Alan Dean with a combined total weight of 49.48 lbs., which is only 3.3 lbs. behind the leaders, Brian Cottrell and Ellis Jones, of the Hampton Roads Fishing Team. Meanwhile, the team of Rob Peppers and Al Napier has a combined total weight of 37.65 lbs., which is 15.13 lbs. off the mark; the team of Wayne Hayes and Chris Sims has a combined total weight of 30.6 lbs., which trails the leaders by 22.18 lbs.; and Paul Celentano, of the County Bassmasters, has a combined total weight of 17.01 lbs., which puts him more than 35 lbs. behind the leaders.

(Left & Right) Regional anglers moor at the dock railing in
preparation for bringing their fish to the scales.

Wayne Hayes (in the driver's seat) angles toward the dock to
let out his partner, Chris Sims, so he can go get the tow
vehicle and trailer from the parking lot.

Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered...

With repairs made, I'm ready to go again.

By Ken Testorff

Yes, I know that's the title of a show tune and popular song from the 1940 Rodgers and Hart musical "Pal Joey," but that's not what I want to talk about. My only intention here is to point out that no bass angler in his/her right mind ever wants to find himself/herself in that condition during a fishing trip, especially when that outing is a small, local tournament. Yet, that's exactly where I found myself early one morning in September 2009.

While running to my first spot that morning, I had seen the light for my bilge pump come on, but a quick glance over my shoulder revealed that no water was pumping overboard. My thought then was, "Never mind, I'll have a look once I shut down the outboard"--a mistake on my part. A smart person would have returned to the dock and checked out the matter. As an employee (at that time) of the Naval Safety Center, you'd think I would have used a little of the same "risk management" philosophy we always were preaching to the fleet, but no, I was bore sighted on getting to that first spot and trying to load the boat with bass. It turned out that I loaded the boat alright--with North Landing River water, though, not bass.

My first fishin' hole was about a 15-minute run from West Neck Marina in my boat, but that's when everything on board is working correctly, which, as I've already told you, wasn't the case. I soon was going to find out, among other things, just how long it can take to pass each one of those channel markers on the river. Suffice it to say I was reminded of the tortoise and hare story before all was said and done.

When I shut down the gas motor and finally had a look at the situation--another mistake on my part, because I'm really not mechanically inclined--I failed to arrive at the right conclusion. I opened the bilge compartment and saw some water, but not enough to alarm me. I then tried a couple things to get the water to pump overboard, to no avail. With this many red flags showing, most people would have headed to the dock, but not me. I simply decided to start fishing and to keep checking the bilge.

Some 15 minutes or so later, I turned around on the pedestal seat and noticed that water was starting to cover the floor of the boat. I knew it was past time for another check of the bilge. I opened the lid to find my onboard battery charger completely submerged, and water lacked only a couple inches of going over the top of my batteries. "I'd better make some phone calls and get this thing headed toward the marina," I finally thought to myself. Duh!

At this point, I was starting to get a bit excited, but that feeling was about to ramp up several notches when I fired up the outboard and discovered that I couldn't get the boat on step. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even gain enough speed to curtail the flooding. The water was getting deeper around my ankles, and I had tackleboxes floating around the floor--not exactly a vision, much less the reality, any bass angler ever wants to entertain. "How many ways can you spell stupid?"--that's what I kept asking myself.

I then whipped out my cellphone and made two calls; I would learn later that I should have made three. I'll explain that statement before I'm done. My first call was to my long-time friend Dewey Mullins, who runs West Neck Marina. My plea to him was simple: HELP!!! After adding the reason for my distress call, I asked if he could send someone to give me a hand. He promised to dispatch a boat right away. My second call was to another long-time friend and boat mechanic Wayne Hayes, asking if he had any advice for a dummy in crisis mode. Wayne agreed to stay on the line and walk me through some things I could do as I waited for help to arrive from the marina.

Those channel markers seemed to be passing at an ever-increasingly painstaking pace, and watching water slosh around the floor of my boat only added to my discomfort. Meanwhile, I tried to focus my eyes in the direction from which help would be coming. I can't begin to tell you what a relief it was to see a boat headed toward me that I recognized as being from West Neck. Dewey had sent his son, Curtiss Wayne, with a portable bilge pump and battery to run it. Curtiss held our two boats together, while I hooked up the wires. In mere moments, water finally was pumping overboard. It took a spell, but once the level was down far enough I knew I could run, I thanked Curtiss and asked him to call the marina and have them keep the ramp area open for my arrival. He agreed, and I headed toward West Neck as fast as my 115 Yamaha would take me. I seldom put the hammer down all the way, but then I don't face situations like this all the time, either.

The ramp was wide open when I arrived, and I passed my vehicle keys to Curtiss, who seemed to have shown up out of nowhere (he had been a good distance behind me the last time I looked over my shoulder while running). Once he had backed my trailer in the water, I drove the boat on, shut everything down, and thanked my lucky stars for having friends I could count on in a bind.

Oh, by the way, that third call I should have made was to my wife. I learned that Dewey had called and awakened her a short time after I called him. He wanted to know if she could give him my cellphone number. She immediately asked why, and he told her I had called and reported that my boat was taking on water, which prompted her to try and call me. She couldn't get through, of course, because I was hanging on the phone with Wayne. Let's just say that among all the other lessons I learned that September day was one about getting my "priorities" straight.

Wayne's investigation of my problem revealed a double whammy. The PVC-pipe through-hull fitting for the livewell had broken off, which allowed water to enter the boat unchecked, and the fitting on the bilge pump also had severed. In a nutshell, the inflow of water never would have stopped, nor would any of it ever have been discharged. What caused the problem? I'll never know for sure, but my theory is that it may have been the result of a hard jolt I had taken a couple weeks earlier while getting over another boat's wake. It was all I could do to hang onto the steering wheel in that episode. Perhaps that jolt cracked both fittings, and they just fell apart during my run on tournament morning.

That memorable day on the water turned out not to be a total loss after all. Once Wayne had diagnosed the problems, he took me fishing in his rig, and we both caught a few fish, which always goes a long ways in healing any kind of wounds, even those to our pride. He also repaired everything and had me back on the water in no time. If there is a moral to this story, it has to be this old one: "A friend in need is a friend indeed."

Epilog: As a result of this incident, I carry a portable, battery-powered bilge pump in my boat as part of the standard safety equipment--just in case history ever repeats itself.

"When the Water Is High, Go to the Back of Albright's"



Caught 5-17-2012, weighed 2lbs. 1oz.

By Ken Testorff

I've been following that advice about where to fish when North Landing River is high for years, and at least 95 percent of the time, the advice pays off in a respectable catch. Today was no exception. I had a good feeling about how the day might turn out from the moment I shut down the outboard (about 0700) and hopped on the trolling motor. The water in Albright's Creek was that super black color, without even a trace of the annoying mud we've been dealing with up and down the river system for several days. I nearly always boat some fish in those conditions.

I didn't have to go far before boating my first and biggest bass of the day--weighing a nice 2-lbs. 15-ozs. The fish had given away his location, albeit in a fairly subtle way. I was tossing my topwater at the point going into a shallow cove when I saw just one tall piece of grass moving. On the fifth cast, the "bad boy" couldn't stand that Bang-o-Lure bobbing in his face any longer. The strike resembled that of a small fish, but once I set the hook, the battle was on. He made a complete circle of the boat, getting airborne twice, then tried to wrap in my trolling motor. All I can say is "thank God" for 40-lb. braid. It's the only thing I fish any more.

I stayed with the Bang-o-Lure until about 8:30, which is when the wind kicked up. In that time I boated two more bass, one weighing 1-8 and the other just a dink, as well as a white perch. With the cloud cover still solidly overhead, I stayed with a topwater bait. My choice was a walk-the-dog lure, which always seems to work well for me in windy conditions.

In the next six hours, I boated five more bass and another white perch. Two of those five bass were dinks, but the others weighed in at 1-0, 1-13 and 2-1 (see photo above). My biggest five of the day had a combined weight of 9-4, which nearly duplicated my total weight for our tourney last Saturday.

I missed several topwater strikes throughout the day, mostly as a result of being too quick on the trigger. I also had a couple fish come unbuttoned, but in both those cases, I was happy it happened. In the first instance, I had tossed the lure across a submerged log but had to delay my retrieve because of a bird's nest. Once I had that problem under control and had taken up the slack, I felt pressure and set the hook. Immediately, I saw this 6- or 7-lb. grindle roll up and over the log. Seconds later, though, my line went limp, and I breathed a sigh of relief. About four casts later, another grindle--a much smaller version--snatched my lure but like his bigger and uglier cousin came loose almost as quickly as he had hit.

By 2:30, I had had enough of the wind. After tying everything down, I began the less-than-pleasant trip back through windswept water to West Neck. The ramp gratefully was clear of other boats, so I wasted no time in recovering mine, getting it cleaned up, and heading home.

May 12, 2012 Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourney

Tournament Winners

By Ken Testorff

First place among today's field of 14 boats and 21 anglers went to the team of Bob Glass and Randy Conkle, with five fish weighing 13.16 lbs. Randy also grabbed the lunker award, with a bass weighing 5.34 lbs.

Second place went to Steve Bailey, with a sack of five fish weighing 12.36 lbs. Rounding out the money winners was the team of Eddie Sapp and Paul Celentano, who weighed in five bass that tipped the scales at 11.07 lbs.

(L-R) Bob Glass and Randy Conkle - 1st Place

Steve Bailey - 2nd Place

Eddie Sapp and his partner (not pictured) Paul Celentano - 3rd Place

Other Results

Here's how the rest of the field finished in terms of total weight: the team of Dave Meers and Ed Balko, five fish, 10.63 lbs.; the team of Bobby Moore and J. P. Twohig, five fish, 10.34 lbs.; the team of Al and Chris Napier, five fish, 9.93 lbs.; Ken Testorff, five fish, 9.55 lbs.; Bob Chambers, five fish, 8.23 lbs.; the team of Gary Coderre and Rick Trehern, five fish, 7.93 lbs.; the team of Rob Peppers and Jim Funk, five fish, 7.69 lbs.; and John Matyiko, five fish, 7.63 lbs. Anglers Wayne Hayes, Skip Schaible, and Joe McDevitt didn't weigh any fish today.

Those 18 anglers in 11 boats who participated in the weigh-in accounted for a total of 55 bass crossing the scales today. The fish had a combined weight of 108.52 lbs.

Anglers besides Randy Conkle who weighed big fish included Steve Bailey/4.61-lb. bass; the team of Dave Meers and Ed Balko/3.49-lb. bass; the team of Al and Chris Napier/2.86-lb. bass; the team of Bobby Moore and J. P. Twohig/2.58-lb. bass; Ken Testorff/2.54-lb. bass; the team of Eddie Sapp and Paul Celentano/2.50-lb. bass; John Matyiko/2.37-lb. bass; and Bob Chambers/2.37-lb. bass.

With today's tournament, a total of 12 anglers have qualified to fish our season-ending two-day Classic on Oct. 13-14. The list includes Gary Coderre, Steve Bailey, Eddie Sapp, Paul Celentano, Bob Glass, Randy Conkle, J. P. Twohig, Al Napier, Skip Schaible, Chris Napier, Joe McDevitt, and Ken Testorff.

Gary Coderre and Rick Trehern motor toward the dock for weigh-in.

Next Event

For planning purposes, our next tourney is scheduled for Saturday, June 2. Start time will be safe light (or approximately 0600). Weigh-in will be at 1400. Anyone with questions can email me at kenneth34@cox.net.

The Dewey Mullins Story

                                                                                                                               



Dewey on the job--minding the West Neck Marina Store.

By Ken Testorff

In case you haven’t noticed, there are two new signs at the entrance to West Neck Marina. Both identify the premises as “The home of Dewey Mullins bass fishing tournaments”—specifically, the Dewey Mullins Tribute Bass Tourney Series. The new signs are a way for marina owners, David and Teresa Winfree, to honor the man who runs West Neck Marina like a well-oiled machine.

A native of West Virginia and an 18-year U.S. Navy veteran, Dewey has deep roots in Virginia Beach, where he once owned and operated a gun shop and was service manager for Princess Anne Marine. His love for both hunting and fishing has earned him the respect and admiration of a wide circle of sportsmen in the more than 50 years he has lived here.

He’s also known as a long-time lure maker, with his patented Dewey Mullins “Special” Spoon perhaps being his crowning achievement. This spoon gained considerable notoriety during those not-soon-to-be-forgotten days of the ‘70s and ‘80s, when anglers from every part of the country were flocking to Back Bay for a chance to catch some of those legendary 8-plus-pound bass. Dewey’s spoon accounted for a large number of those citation catches, including his own 13-pound 3-ounce largemouth, caught in September 1979—the mounting hangs on the wall of the West Neck Marina Store today. It doesn’t take much to engage Dewey in a conversation about that fish, as well as events leading up to it and what happened afterward, too.

The Duey "Special" Spoon

As Dewey explains, he lost an even bigger bass the previous day. He had gotten that fish to the boat and was reaching for the net with one hand, while keeping pressure on the line with the other, when he accidentally allowed just a smidgen of slack in the line, and when he looked back over the side, the bass had spit the lure and was swimming away from the boat. Dewey then was kicking himself for two reasons: First of all, he hadn’t even put a net in the boat that day. And second, of course, he was upset that he’d allowed that ever-so-tiny amount of slack in the line. These lapses might have disheartened some anglers, but not Dewey. He simply made up his mind to return to the same spot the next day with his fishin’ buddy, John “The Barber,” and try again.

And so, sure enough, the next day found Dewey and his buddy camped out on the same stretch of Back Bay water. Dewey says they were fishing along when he started noticing an area up ahead where something big really was roiling the water as it chased pods of baitfish. He never saw the fish—just the huge commotion it made in the grass and water each time baitfish swam by. Dewey kept his cool, though, cause the action just kept repeating itself, over and over. When he finally was within range of the spot, Dewey said he let loose a long cast and went on full alert as his spoon dropped through the grass and settled toward the bottom. In the blink of an eye, the much anticipated strike came, and Dewey responded with a solid hookset. The battle now was on, and Dewey had made up his mind this fish was going to be his—even though (yep, you probably guessed it) he suddenly realized he once again had forgotten to put his net in the boat. Methodically, he worked the big bass to the side of the boat, where he then rammed his hand in the fish’s huge mouth and snatched him aboard with the gills.

A page from the U. S. Patent Application

Dewey then says John “The Barber” spent several hours that day, walking around the launch site with Dewey’s fish slung over his shoulder like a sack of patatoes, showing it to everyone he met. Hours passed, according to Dewey, before word reached a local tackle shop, and they, in turn, contacted Dewey about bringing the big fish in for measuring, weighing and preparing the necessary citation paperwork. Turns out the 13-3 bass measured 25” in length and was 25” in girth.

Unfortunately for Dewey, however, his record Virginia fish never got the recognition it deserved, because, as luck would have it, another angler in a different part of the state caught a bigger one before officials could get Dewey’s catch registered in the books. As Dewey jokes, though, all was not lost in this paperwork glitch. First of all, he still has the mounted fish on the wall—a citation, at that—and he often gets to relive that moment in his life when he did what so many other anglers just dream of doing. Besides that, says Dewey, “I still have some of those Tom Mann’s 6-inch jelly worms stashed around here some place,” as he points around the store. Dewey’s reference here is to a whole, giant cardboard box crammed full of jelly worms, in every color of the rainbow, that arrived at his door, courtesy of Mr. Mann, a few days after word spread about the record catch. You see, Dewey had used a 6-inch, white jelly worm as a trailer for his spoon that September day.

Dewey's 13-3 largemouth

And while we’re discussing how the word spread about Dewey’s catch, there’s another related tale worth repeating here. Like many of Dewey’s fishing experiences back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, this one again involved his good friend, John “The Barber.” The two of them had spent yet another day on Back Bay and just had arrived back at the ramp, when Dewey hopped out of the boat and told John he would back the trailer in the water, and let John drive on the boat. There was just one problem: It had been a long, tiring day, and Dewey hadn’t stopped to notice the angle of the boat trailer and vehicle parked next to his. He simply got behind the wheel of the truck and started backing, when all of a sudden, he heard some awful grinding. He stopped, got out of the truck, and saw that he had backed into the adjacent rig. Dewey got back into his truck, and he and John completed the boat-recovery operation without further incident.

Then Dewey went inside the marina to leave his name, address and phone number with management for the person whose vehicle he had damaged. Before Dewey could get out of the parking lot, though, that person showed up and confronted Dewey, who immediately offered to pay for all damages. The response he got wasn’t what he had expected. The other person retorted, “Oh no! You ain’t gettin’ off that easy!”

Dewey shot back, “What’s your problem?”

The other guy then said, “You gotta take me fishin’ and show me where you caught that big bass. Then, we’ll be even.”

Dewey complied, and that guy and his partner went out a few days later and won a tournament, fishing that same area where Dewey had caught the 13-3 bass, and true to his word, that guy wiped the slate clean as far as Dewey owing him any other payment.

Those stories and a lot more are still fresh in Dewey’s memory today. It’s a combination of those stories, Dewey’s personality, and his love for the outdoors that make West Neck Marina Store a popular gathering place for hunters and fishermen alike. Of course, it doesn’t hurt, either, that Dewey continues making lures and servicing guns for some. Among his current list of fishing products are spoons, jigs, spinnerbaits, and chatterbaits, as well as a couple versions of the increasingly popular umbrella rig. It also should be noted that he not only services local customers but fills orders for many out-of-state clients, too.

Dewey relaxes in front of the store after conducting yet another successful tourney weigh-in.

All this being said, you probably aren’t left with any questions about why both the Winfrees and West Neck Marina bass-tourney anglers have chosen to honor Dewey as we begin this 2012 fishing season. We all simply wanted to bestow some long-overdue recognition on a man who has given so much to hunters and fishermen alike. We salute you, Dewey.