My Best/Worst Fishing Day Ever

I'm sorry to say, folks, but it looks like I had another idea that flopped. I ended up hearing from only two fishermen who were willing to share their experiences. Nevertheless, I'm going to proceed with this project, so that these two anglers' efforts will not have been in vain.

Before I do, though, I would like to thank Jim Funk for posting an ad on the Region 7 website, asking for inputs from those fellas if they were so inclined. Really appreciate your help, Jim.

That being said, here is the information I received.

My Best Day

My friend Jerry's best bass-fishing day was when he was about 12 or 13 years old. "This was the 'trip' that really hooked me on bass fishing," he said.

"I lived in the town of Williamston, NC, and one day, I rode my bike to Conoho Creek, a distance of about 3 miles from where I lived. I was bank fishing, tossing a topwater Rebel across the mouth of the creek into the Roanoke River.

"There was a 'boil' of feeding bass in that area, which was just barely within my casting range. I don't remember how many I caught that day, but I had a stringer of huge bass that would drag the ground. I had my hands full figuring out how to drape the stringer on my bike before heading back to town. What a day of fishing!"

One of my friend Skip's best bass-fishing days occurred at West Neck Creek. It was overcast at the time, and just as had been predicted, afternoon storms were moving in from the west.

"I could see lightning and hear thunder in the distance," said Skip, "so I figured I would head back. As I almost was to the mouth of the creek, I noticed a guy catching fish as fast as he could. I slowed down, and he told me to pull in behind him and start throwing a white spinnerbait.

"On my first cast, I had a fish on. With the lightning and thunder drawing ever closer, I knew it was dumb to stay out there, but we both kept fishing. And on every cast, we both would catch a fish. We stayed put until the storm eventually passed below us.

"I have no idea how many fish we caught, but for that 15 minutes, it was non-stop action. As soon as the sun popped out, though, the catching came to a dead stop. I've never seen anything like it before or since," Skip concluded.

My Worst Day

Skip also provided an input for this category. It involved a trip he hook with a buddy years ago. At the time, Skip had a bass boat, and his friend owned a saltwater boat, which they used according to the type of fishing they were going to be doing on a given day. On the day in question, they were in the buddy's boat.

"Our standing rule," explained Skip, "was that, unless one of us was bleeding to death or suffereing from compound fractures, there would be no turning back. We were headed to the lighthouse off the coast, and as soon as we pulled out from the Lesner Bridge, I got seasick. I 'chummed' all the way out and back.

"True to our rule, though, we did not turn back. I cannot remember if I caught any fish. I just remember how bad I felt. That was the only time in my life I have been seasick. The strange thing is that it wasn't even rough that day."

Too bad you didn't have some saltine crackers, Skip. I quickly learned on my first Navy cruise, thanks to an ol' bosun's mate, that nothing will cure seasickness faster than some of those crackers. After the first day of that cruise, I was fine, but I always kept a pack of saltines in my locker, just in case.

My personal worst fishing day ever has to be a tournament several years back that I fished solo out of West Neck Marina (back when Dewey was running things). I had the winning total weight, as well as big fish. There was just one problem: I returned to the scales for weigh-in an hour late.

Did my watch stop? No. Had I misunderstood what Dewey said about weigh-in time that morning? No. Did I have boat trouble? No. The simple truth is that, after having put the winning weight and big fish in my livewell within the first three hours of fishing, I somehow "twisted" the appointed hour of return in my head.

Bottom line: I walked away with nothing, when I could have walked away with it all. I went ahead and weighed my fish when I came in, and a quick comparison with the final tally sheet conclusively showed I had the best total weight and big fish--it just didn't count.