And then she turned loose all her pent-up anxieties on the 21 anglers in 13 boats that had showed up to fish today's tournament out of West Neck Marina. There was lots of thunder, lots of lightning, and copious amounts of rain soaking us as we hurried through the weigh-in as best we could.
Besting everyone today and walking away with the 1st-place prize money was this team of
(from left) Paul Celentano and Sid Ryan, who weighed five fish that tipped the scales at 12.09 lbs., anchored by a big fish weighing 3.17 lbs.
Laying claim to 2nd place was the team of Chris Napier and Al Napier
(not pictured), who had five fish weighing 10.91 lbs. Their big fish weighed 3.15 lbs.
In 3rd place at day's end was this team of
(from left) Bob Glass and Randy Conkle. Their five fish totaled 10.35 lbs., anchored by one weighing 3.41 lbs.
Big-fish honors went to Skip Schaible, who weighed one that went 4.36 lbs. He and partner, Mitch Portervint, had five bass, with a total weight of 10.28 lbs.
Winner of the mystery-weight drawing, with three fish totaling 2.87 lbs., was Gary Coderre. His weight came closest to the 2.20-lb. tab that was drawn.
Here is how everyone else finished the competition:
* Mike Evans, five fish, 8.27 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
* The team of Jim Wilder and Chris Vitovich, five fish, 7.95 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
* The team of Tom Acree and Joe McDevitt, five fish, 7.27 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
* Ronnie McLaughlin, four fish, 6.07 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
* Ken Testorff, five fish, 6.04 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
* The team of Bryson Morawski and John Kindel, three fish, 4.91 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
* Wayne Hayes didn't weigh, nor did the team of Duane Kessel and Zach Ouellette.
Overall, today's anglers weighed a total of 50 bass for a total weight of 87.01 lbs. The average weight was 1.74 lbs.
Three new names were added to the list of anglers now eligible to fish our season-ending two-day Classic contest. Those three are Wayne Hayes, Chris Vitovich, and Mitch Portervint.
For planning purposes, our next event is scheduled for Saturday, July 11th, from safe light (about 5:15 or 5:30) to weigh-in at 2 p.m. Hope you can join us.
When I left home for the marina in the wee hours Saturday morning, I had a plan--of sorts. I knew I probably was going to get wet, so I donned my rainsuit pants before I ever left the house and had the coat at my fingertips.
I also knew that, given the muddy water I had encountered Wednesday in West Neck, coupled with the open tournament going out of West Landing, I was heading south, with one overriding requirement: A bridge had to be within easy reach of my destination. If the lightning was to get to poppin', I wanted something to hide under.
And last, but certainly not least, I knew that a buzzbait was going to figure into my equation for catching fish. Those two passes I had gotten Wednesday on a buzzbait kept going over and over again in my mind--just like some of the old records I used to play on the phonograph would catch in one of the grooves and keep repeating the same few notes. The only difference Saturday was going to be a slight modification to the buzzbait--it was going to have a trailer hook.
My first stop--within a stone's throw of the Pungo Ferry Bridge--was Albright's, where I had been Wednesday. On Saturday, though, I went to the front of the creek, instead of the back. One boat already was fishing the area of the cut-through as I approached, and I had heard some guys saying they were going to the back, so I just ran on down to the oxbow and entered at the mouth of the creek. In the first five casts with the buzzbait, I had three passes but no hookups. I didn't let that deter me, though.
I stayed the course and ended up boating a total of seven keepers and two dinks, along with a big pickerel and a white perch, on the buzzbait. Had my limit by 9 o'clock, and by 11:30 had covered all the areas I wanted to fish, so headed back to West Neck, where, despite the pounding I knew it had to have taken already, I thought I might find a kicker fish.
It was now that I turned to my soft plastics. However, instead of throwing the same 5-inch Senkos that had been drawing all those tail-biters, I turned to the 4-inch model.
By this time of the day, many of the clouds directly overhead had parted, and you could see bright blue sky in several places. Trouble was brewing in the distance, though, and I could both see and hear it. The blackness was gathering strength. I knew if I didn't catch a kicker soon, I was headed to the dock and the safety of the marina store.
That thought had just passed my mind, when I felt a slick tick in my rod after making another cast to my favorite stump field. I took a couple of small turns on the reel handle, then watched my line slowly start moving to one side. Suddenly, the line really took off, and that's when I swept the rod hard the other direction. The subsequent weight I felt sent my adrenaline into overdrive. Imagine how I felt though, once I had everything beside the boat and looked over to find my braided line embedded in one of the stumps from the field. Oh, there was a fish at the end of it--all 1-lb. worth of his feisty self.
As quickly as possible, I released the fish, freed my line, wrapped everything up, and headed for the dock. That "trouble in the distance" was getting closer, and I had had enough for one day.