Recognize This Boat and the Man on the Front?

Couldn't say as I'd blame you if you told me you don't, considering how long it has been since they've been on any of the local waters. However, it's none other than Eddie Sapp and his Skeeter.

I saw both of them today--for the first time in many months. I didn't talk to Eddie but am guessing his deployment to parts unknown is behind him again, and he's now trying to make up for lost time. He blew by me in the blink of an eye but not without throwing his hand in the air as he passed, and I reciprocated.

All I can say, good buddy, is: "Welcome Home!" It's really good to have you back.

Seeing Eddie safely back on U.S. soil again was--by far--the high point of my day on the water. The rest of it could be summed up in one word: disappointment. It started about 45 minutes or an hour after I had departed the ramp area. In that time, I had worn out a Pop R without so much as a smell. The same could be said for the chatterbait I had been using.

I then made a few casts with a crankbait, also to no avail. It was then I decided I was going to see if I couldn't find a soft-plastic bite. I had a fluke tied on and only had made a half-dozen or so casts when I tossed it up beside a couple of cypress trees and immediately had a fish stretch the line but drop it before I could do anything. I let the bait sit a minute, then barely moved it, and this time, the fish really took off. At the same time, I snapped the rod hard to the side and felt a lot of weight.

In the next two or three minutes, I had worked the fish close enough to the boat I went fumbling for the net--and I do mean "fumbling." For some reason, I couldn't find the handle. As if that wasn't bad enough, the fish by now was slightly astern of the boat, and instead of simply taking the fish on around the stern, I turned him back the other direction, and therein was mistake No. 2, which proved to be my downfall. I watched the fish come up alongside the boat, roll and open his mouth before bidding me adieu.

He easily was a 4-pounder and perhaps would have gone 5, but as we all know, close only counts in horseshoes. Can't say I'm surprised there was a big one in that spot 'cause I have a friend who once took an 8-plus from the same location. I subscribe to that theory that once a big fish is caught, another big one often will move in and take up residence in the same hole.

I finally managed to boat an 11-and-a-half inch bass to keep from recording my third skunk of the current season, and I had a few more "mild" hits on the fluke throughout the day, but that was the extent of my day's rewards.

Today's big fish is the third one like this I've lost since I stopped swinging my fish aboard, and so I'm thinking I very well may return to those old ways. As I see it, I can't do much worse. Using a net is OK when you have a companion in the boat, but when you're playing solo, I'm not convinced your best option is the net. And, yes, I know there are many who will disagree with me on that point.

Let me end on this positive note: It was a gorgeous day weather-wise. I don't remember the last time when we had weather like this in the month of August.

 

It seems my friend, Jerry, also has had an experience or two of his own with a net. In the explanation accompanying this photo, he described an incident that occurred during a Sunday-afternoon fishing trip he took to Lake Smith several years ago with his son, Chris, and then-8-year-old granddaughter.

"Before we really got 'settled in,'" Jerry said, "my granddaughter hung a nice keeper bass. My landing net was laying in the floor, with rods, tackle boxes, etc. covering it. We looked like frantic idiots, trying to free the net in time to save her fish.

"We did save the fish, but I learned a lesson from the experience. I was a sheet-metal mechanic before I retired, so I constructed the pictured holder for my net. Finding my landing net has NOT been an issue since that day."