Fish Are Starting to Bite--More for Some Than Others

When I arrived home this afternoon from spending another day on the water, I had an email from my buddy, Skip, with this photo attached. Unfortunately, he didn't tell me how much it weighed. This much I'll bet you: He had a smile on his face as he landed it, regardless of what his scales showed.

Unlike most trips, I didn't launch at West Neck today. Instead, I hooked up the boat this morning and towed it down to Munden Point and launched there. I first ran to my favorite haunts in Milldam but found nothing short of a mudhole everywhere I looked. And while I did see some fish movement in the water--also some more dead bluegill--I couldn't find anything that would entice a strike.

About 11 o'clock, I decided to tie down all the loose stuff and make a run to Blackwater. The conditions there weren't perfect, but they certainly were better than what I had been fishing in Milldam. So I set the boat down and hopped on the trolling motor to see if I could find a few fish. Despite the improved water clarity, the bass continued their lockjaw routine, which forced me to start dragging everything imaginable out of my tacklebox. I was determined not to incur a skunk.

My persistence finally paid off with this 1-1 that came aboard about an hour before I decided to call it a day. He hit right beside the boat when I wasn't paying attention, and because my drag had slipped, the fight lasted a lot longer than it should have.

While Skip and I were strugging today, I know a couple of friends who indicated they had a pretty fair day. In a phone call I had with John, I learned that he had caught a decent number of nice fish. Charlie, likewise, had picked up about a half-dozen in a shallow little stream down south. I met Mark going out this afternoon just as I was wrapping up my day, so I don't know if he caught any or not. He wasn't out very long, because I saw him only a few cars ahead of me on the road coming home this evening.

The water temp when I launched this morning read 54 degrees, and it was running 62 when I threw in the towel this afternoon, and I know John found the same temps where he was. He was telling me that he expects to hear about some nice bags being weighed in this weekend's Dewey Mullins Memorial Bass Tourney, and I feel the same way. I think we're likely to have a good turnout, as well, because no one wants to be sitting home when the action breaks loose. It could happen any moment.