She's B-A-A-A-C-K!

After 4-plus months, my Skeeter is back in the storage shed at West Neck Marina, complete with a rebuilt Yamaha outboard that will be ready as soon as the break-in is complete. Brought it "home" from the mechanic's shop today, with the help of my long-time friend and tournament partner, Wayne Hayes.

Turns out that the crux of all my problems leading up to the boat going to the shop to start with was a pinhole leak (see arrow pointing it out at left) that allowed water to get to a lot of places it shouldn't have been.

The mechanic also said he had fixed the problem that had caused numerous overheat alarms many moons ago until I had Wayne remove all the thermostats. My YammerHammer 150 now has a new set of thermostats, which the mechanic assured me will operate like they're supposed to.

As I was leaving the mechanic's shop today, he left me with a couple other considerations, too. First of all, he made certain that I understood the necessity of using double oil during the break-in period. (If any mosquitoes are still alive in Virginia Beach, they won't be for much longer...I assure you.) And secondly, he cautioned me to be alert to the fact my outboard is apt to have a lot more giddy-up-go than I've been used to for quite some time. "No hot-doggin'" were his exact words to me.

In any event, I'm feelin' good again...albeit a bit out of practice. Felt like a fool this afternoon as we were running the outboard for a few minutes at the West Neck ramp (yes, in all that cold rain) and Wayne told me to check all my pumps. I flipped on the two livewell fill valves but didn't see the lights in the switches, at which point Wayne hollered, "Might help if you turn on the master power switch first."

Tough Fog Delays Start of Yesterday's Tournament

The 29 anglers in 20 boats had to wait an extra hour (until 9 o'clock) yesterday morning to get the "go ahead" from tournament director Gabe Himmelwright to start the Boundary Bass Club tournament out of Pungo Ferry. At day's end, these competitors brought a combined total of 76 fish to the scales. The overall total-weight tally was 139.80 lbs., for an average weight per fish of 1.83 lbs.

Those folks who claimed a spot in the winners' circle included the following:

1st Place, the team of (from left) Mark Ingram and Gabe Himmelwright, five fish, total weight 15.10 lbs., and a 5.53-lb. big fish, which also gave them the Lunker Pot.

2nd Place, Steve Bailey, five fish, total weight 11.14 lbs., and a 4.54-lb. kicker fish.

3rd Place, the team of (from left) Stan Krason and Dustin Alley, five fish, total weight 10.43 lbs., no big fish.

A $30 gift certificate to Bob's Fishing Hole store also was awarded as a raffle prize yesterday. Holding the certificate here is Ethan Welch, who fished with his dad, Nate.

Here is how everyone else lined up at completion of the weigh-in:

     * The team of Kevin Massie and Sid Ryan, five fish, total weight 10.33 lbs., and a 2.87-lb. big fish.
     * Jim Calhoun, five fish, total weight 10.01 lbs., no big fish.
     * The team of David Dozier and Nelson Anderson, five fish, total weight 9.97 lbs., and a 3.22-lb. big fish.
     * The team of Dave Anderson and Gary Coderre, five fish, total weight 9.73 lbs., and a 2.84-lb. big fish.
     * The team of Andy Morath and Aaron Leigh, five fish, total weight 9.71 lbs., no big fish.
     * Don Carter, five fish, total weight 8.95 lbs., no big fish.
     * Rusty Girard, five fish, total weight 8.03 lbs., no big fish.
     * Fisher Bryan, five fish, total weight 7.92 lbs., no big fish.
     * The team of Leo Boisvert and Vince Stuccio, five fish, total weight 7.45 lbs., no big fish.
     * Jim Leavis, five fish, total weight 6.93 lbs., no big fish.
     * The team of Wayne Hayes and Ken Testorff, five fish, total weight 6.30 lbs., no big fish.
     * Greg Bryan, two fish, total weight 4.33 lbs., no big fish.
     * The team of Nate and Ethan Welch, four fish, total weight 3.47 lbs., no big fish.
     * Austin Kirk, Ronnie McLaughlin, Red Bruun, and Chris Napier didn't weigh any fish.

The next scheduled Boundary Bass Club tournament is set for Saturday, Jan. 8, 2022, on the Pasquotank River, launching out of Elizabeth City, NC.

A Bernie Schultz Tribute to the Late Aaron Martens

Here's a great little story that I found in the latest issue of Jay Kumar's BassBlaster:

"As the minutes turned to hours, he (Aaron) kept culling, while I watched, unable to catch even a bare 14-inch keeper," said Schultz. "He eventually must have felt sorry for me, 'cause he called me over to get one of his special baits...a 'Scrounger,' which was relatively new at the time. Rather than simply tossing me the lure, he sat down and began to assemble and modify it--custom trimming its transparent lip and soft-plastic body.

"Our boats sat rail to rail, as Aaron meticulously tweaked the lure," continued Bernie. "Dissatisfied with the initial effort, he scrapped the lure's transparent lip and started over.

"As he was trimming the second one, a school of fish erupted on the far side of his boat. Impulsively," allowed Bernie, "I fired a cast across his deck into the melee and hooked up with my biggest fish of the day. As it cartwheeled across the surface, Aaron realized its size and shouted, 'Dude! Here I am making a bait, and you're catching fish on the other side of my boat. That's not cool, bro.'

"Our marshals and I broke out laughing," said Bernie..."all while I'm trying to battle this fish without setting foot on Aaron's deck."

"Name one other dude who would stop catching biting fish to make a bait for another competitor," said Kumar. "If you know one, you're blessed."

My Wish for Each and Every One of You

Wishing you peace, joy, and all the best this wonderful holiday season has to offer. May this incredible time of giving and spending time with family bring you the joy that lasts throughout the year.

'Twas the Week Before Christmas

By Scott McGehee

'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the South,

The weather was warming, time to catch a largemouth;

I should be out shopping for gifts with care,

But instead I have hope that the bass will be there.

The water's too cold for the bass to bed,

So I'll just have to catch them, fishing slow instead;

While momma's at the house, wrapping gifts with class,

I'm on the lake, a fishin' for bass.

When up on the shore arose such a clatter,

I ran to the bank to see what's the matter;

Away from my weedline,

That'd been producing just fine.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a sleigh, pulled by eight whitetail deer;

I have to admit, I was a little confused,

St. Nick was here early, which left me bemused.

I told him, "Please be aware,

Gun season is open, so your deer should take care;

There's hunters about, even though there's no chill,

Looking for fresh venison, all ready to grill."

He replied, "They'll have to chance it, alone in the wood,

I'd love to go fishing, if I could join you, I would;"

Turns out old Santa's a bassaholic at heart,

Catches bass to unwind, has done so from the start.

So back to the weedline we flew,

To see if I couldn't help old St. Nick catch a few;

Thus we drove to my spot, in my nimble BassCat,

Where he sat at my side, all jolly and fat.

And he whistled and shouted and called out his wishes,

"Fish crankbaits and worms, to catch some fishes;

Spinnerbaits and jigs, we must all try,

We'll catch us some bass, to grill or fry."

We had quite a day, with cast after cast,

It passed way too fast, I wished it would last;

I came to find out that St. Nick's a good stick,

When it comes to cold water, he knows every trick.

I wanted to beat him, but then I thought twice,

If I do that, it might not be nice;

If I'm naughty, I'll get switches and coal,

Not what I wanted: a new Power Pole.

So catch them we did, all the way to dark,

Till he said he must go, it's been quite a lark;

There's still work to be done, before my big night,

Back to my eight deer, I must take flight.

Back to the elves, before they start to fight,

A delay in getting ready just wouldn't be right;

So left me he did, then took to the sky,

He and his reindeer, north did they fly.

And he whistled and shouted, and called them by name,

But since he's been fishing, their names aren't the same;

"Now, Rayburn! Now, Martin! Now, Falcon and Fork!

On, Pickwick! On, Sardis! On, Mead and Norfolk!

To the end of the dam! To the top of the trees!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away, please!

But as they flew off, I did hear him call,

"Merry Christmas to you, and Bass Wishes to all."

This poem was first published by BassFan on Dec. 23, 2009. At the time, the author was a Bassmaster Open angler from Mississippi.

More Than Just a Piece of Plastic

The author and his son.

By Blaine Matray

My family was in the midst of opening presents and the calamity of a typical Christmas morning. Buried amidst the pile of shredded wrapping paper and bows was the smallest, yet last of the gifts--MINE!

I tore through the wrapping paper like I was a child again, only to be brought back to reality by what my eyes beheld--a Bass Pro Shops gift card. My kids howled with laughter, wishing me a Merry Christmas and hours of fun with my piece of plastic, with the misunderstanding that a gift was useless unless it had batteries in it.

I was thankful for the gift card, content in putting it into my pocket and spending valuable time with my wife and kids the rest of Christmas Day.

Months passed, and I forgot that I even had my gift card. It was summer, and warm evenings brought opportunities to get outside and fish farm ponds around Oklahoma...the best time to put that simplistic piece of plastic to use.

With minimal convincing, my son, Mason, deemed it necessary we head to Bass Pro Shops to pick up new tackle to ensure successful fishing. We spent what seemed like an eternity in Oklahoma City looking at the essentials that every father and son should have in their tackle boxes.

We scoured over aisles and aisles of Biffle O's, Hula Poppers, floating Rapalas, Jitterbugs, and plastic worms in every color of the rainbow. Each different lure brought a memory of mine to light, potentially helping my son understand the depth of how largemouth bass can change a person's life forever.

Calm June winds one evening brought an opportunity for Mason and me to get out and put our new lures to the proverbial test. We had access to our friends' aluminum boat, so we took full advantage of the fishing endeavor.

As we motored out to our first spot on the pond, my son asked, "What should we fish, Dad?"

I gave him the autonomy he so desired at age 7 and replied, "The water is warm, so the bass will be more active than spring. What do you think, Son?"

We recently had read a feature in the Sunday Oklahoman about the Biffle O and its tournament success. The Biffle O it was. Having never fished the lure, Mason assertively convinced me to follow his lead.

The poor bass never had seen anything like that lure. We lost count of the fish we caught and released. As the sun began to set that evening, I introduced my son to the art of topwater plugs. We both tied on Hula Poppers and cast toward the weed edges near the bank.

I was in the midst of explaining to Mason about letting the motion rings dissipate away from the popper when the unimaginable happened--WHAM! The water exploded from below, and a monster bass flew out of the water higher than the edge of the boat.

We both momentarily froze in disbelief before coming to our senses. I set the hook as he ran with the Hula Popper and handed the rod to my son. "Your turn, Mason," I told him.

Mason grabbed the rod and held on for his dear life. "Keep your rod tip up, up, up!" I exclaimed. "That bass is going to make a run under the boat." The monster shot under the boat as my son kept fighting.

With one last pass, the bass blasted out of the water again, revealing its imposing yellow eyes and shook the Hula Popper right out of its mouth into the boat. It came to rest right between my son and me. We both stared at each other in utter disbelief. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, we simultaneously erupted into laughter.

It was at that moment that I realized how special that gift card from my wife really was. That simple little gift card had transformed itself into the greatest Christmas present a father could have ever asked for--a priceless moment with his son that undoubtedly would last forever.

The author is a distinguished multiple award-winning senior sales executive with more than 23 years of successful biopharmaceutical/pharmaceutical sales experience in Blanchard, OK.

Beginning To See Daylight at the End of This Tunnel

After what will be two weeks tomorrow, the recovery from my run-in with a headboard is coming along nicely now. Still have some bruising, which expanded immensely from the photo I originally published on this blog, e.g., it ended up spreading all the way down the back of my left leg into parts of my foot. Treatments with heat and cold packs, use of epsom salts, and elevation of my feet appear to have been the ticket to the success I'm starting to enjoy.

My knee still shows bruising, coupled with a fairly good-sized knot on the side of it. Fully suspect a trip to an ortho specialist is in my future, but will deal with that when the time comes. Already can wear my jeans again, and that's what matters to me. And after the reduced swelling that has occurred in my left foot today, I suspect I'll be able to wear my regular shoes, starting perhaps as early as tomorrow.

Have been using Tylenol tablets tinged with a little codeine for sleeping the past few nights, but think I likely have taken the last one of those, since last night's pill didn't seem to provide much help. Besides that, I'm not a fan of taking any more meds than absolutely necessary.

Along with the improvement from the damage I did to myself two weeks ago, I am finally getting word that it'll probably only be a few more days before I get my boat back from Craig, ready to hit the water again. I know there first will be the matter of about 10 hours of break-in time, but with any luck, I hope to accomplish that in a couple of days. Plan to leave all my fishing gear at home during those two days, so I won't get distracted.

Barring the unforeseen, I have plans to join Wayne this coming Saturday for a trip to Pungo Ferry, where we will participate in the tournament the fellas with Boundary Bass Club have scheduled.

Had to take a rain check this past Saturday for the event at Bob's, 'cause I was in a bad way with my leg that day. As the doctor at Patient First, whom I saw on my second trip there last week, explained, I have a bad case of arthritis in my left ankle that was stirred into more action than usual by my accident. At least I now understand why my left foot often is puffy...even when not injured.

In any event, I'm looking forward to getting back to some degree of normal healthiness in coming days and be able to log some time on my rebuilt motor, too.

"It Is Christmas Time, a Halting of Hate Time"

That's a line from Dr. Maya Angelou's Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem, which she penned for the 2005 tree-lighting ceremony at the White House. Hailed as a global renaissance woman, Dr. Angelou was a celebrated poet, memoirist, novelist, educator, dramatist, producer, actress, historian, filmmaker, and civil rights activist. She passed away on May 28, 2014, but her works live on, as depicted in Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem, which follows in its entirety.

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes

And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.

Flood waters await us in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche

Over unprotected villages.

The sky slips low and grey and threatening.

We question ourselves.

What have we done to so affront nature?

We worry God.

Are you there? Are you there really?

Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters,

Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope

And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.

The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,

Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.

Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.

Flood waters recede into memory.

Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us

As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children

It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.

Hope spreads around the earth, brightening all things,

Even hate, which crouches breeding in dark corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.

At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.

We listen carefully as it gathers strength.

We hear a sweetness.

The word is Peace.

It is loud now. It is louder.

Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.

It is what we have hungered for.

Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.

A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.

Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.

We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.

We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.

Peace.

Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.

We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,

Implore you, to stay a while with us.

So we may learn by your shimmering light

How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language

To translate ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ

Into the great religions of the world.

We jubilate the precious advent of trust.

We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.

All the earth's tribes loosen their voices

To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We Angels and Mortals, Believers and Non-Believers,

Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.

Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.

Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves

And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation:

Peace, My Brother.

Peace, My Sister.

Peace, My Soul.

It's a shame that some folks don't see the world as Maya Angelou did. I cite, for example, these three Christmas-card photos that politicans saw fit to publish...on the heels of a recent Michigan high-school shooting incident, no less, in which four people (to date) lost their lives:

My question is: Do these demonstrate Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men?

I Fish You a Merry Christmas

By Kimberly Squyres

While clawing and gasping my way through the holiday hustle and bustle of the store the other day, I wasn't exactly feeling the holiday cheer...that is, until I saw someone wearing a T-shirt bearing a message that rang clearer than the silver bells of Christmas. It read: "Shopping with your husband is like hunting with the game warden."

Maybe it's because I was at a Target store and saw symbols of red bulls-eyes all around, but I temporarily was transported from my retail hell and actually took a moment for a little chuckle. And for that moment, I almost forgot about the overplaying of "Deck the Halls" on the loudspeaker and, for that matter, about decking the people around me.

Don't get me wrong; I'm no Grinch or Scrooge, but I can only take so much pushing and shoving and temper tantrums of spoiled children screaming all around. Nothing like a little bit of tinsel and a limited supply of hot holiday toys to bring out the best in everyone. Instead of holiday cheer, however, it brings me holiday tears...but I digress.

Back to the shirt that read "shopping with your husband is like hunting with the game warden." Now I'm not here to dispute that fact--we all know it's true--but it made me think about a related parallel. I realized that hunting (or fishing, in this case) is really a lot like Christmas shopping (with or without the game warden).

Waiting. One way or another, fishing or shopping, you wait...and wait...and wait some more, whether waiting for the fish to bite your line,  or waiting in a checkout line with a big wish list in hand. They both take patience, whether you're trying to find just the right fishing spot or just the right (and closest)  parking spot. It also takes patience whether you're refraining from jerking the line too soon, or lining out that jerk who just cut you off in line at the store.

Timing. Both can, and often do take ALL DAY, whether you want it to or not (fishing--yes, please, but no to shopping all day--my feet just can't handle it). And even more, you may end up throwing it (fish or gifts) back (too small to eat) or returning it (also because it's too small--probably from all those second helpings of holiday food and Christmas cookies).

Stuff. Either way, you end up with lots of stuff, mostly that of which you (or others) don't really need. It's nice to have, but you can do without, or at least without a lot of it. Whether it's the 47 different spinnerbaits in your tackle box, or the 47 different boxes under your tree, you end up with a lot of stuff. And it often all ends up sitting around, unopened or unused, forgotten, or regifted, whether it's in the tackle box or the gift box.

Planning. For both, battle tactics are required, as is a plan and armor, whether you're battling for bass or bargains. I'm talking selecting your baits to lure in big bass, mapping out your escape route from other shoppers that are being an a** (I'll let you fill in the two blanks), cutting coupons, bargaining with retailers, checking the Solunar Tables to the sales advertisements, you gotta know what you're looking for and plan accordingly. Bring your game face, your running shoes, waders--whatever it takes. Just be ready for action.

Despite these metaphorical parallels, I'm more into "reel" life. I'll be glad when all the holiday hoopla is over, and I can get away from the stress of shopping malls and get back out on the lake and in the woods. And better yet, just save yourself some trouble...and money. Don't see red. See the beauty of the blue lake and skies, instead. Maybe instead of partaking in all the commercialism of Christmas, give a gift that no nature- or lake-lover can turn down, or, for that matter, return the one on everyone's wish list--fish.

Forget the lines and get a life, or change one. Take someone fishing--a little adventure they won't forget, or heck, you could even give them a fish. Start a family Christmastime tradition on the lake. Gather your friends and family for a weekend at a lake house, take pictures water skiing with Santa hats on, or go Christmas-light looking or caroling.

Besides, that's what this day is all about--family, friends, traditions, memories, and of course, Jesus is the reason for the season. And it's always the season to celebrate that, whether it's Christmas or hunting season. Good luck out there with whichever adventure you choose to take on. Merry Fishmas!

About the author: Kimberly Squyres is addicted to all things outdoors. She has dedicated her life to meeting the people that make up the place called Deep East Texas, and telling their stories and promoting their causes through pictures and the written word. When not writing, rescuing dogs, or riding horses, in her spare time, she is a full-time lecturer of communication and director of debate at Stephen F. Austin State University.

For the Man Who Hated Christmas

This true story was originally published in the Dec. 14, 1982, issue of Woman's Day magazine. It was the first-place winner out of thousands of entries in the magazine's "My Most Moving Holiday Tradition" contest in which readers were asked to share their favorite holiday tradition and the story behind it. The story inspired a family from Atlanta, GA, to start The White Envelope Project and Giving 101, a nonprofit organization dedicated to educating youth about the importance of giving.

By Nancy W. Gavin

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.

It all began because my husband, Mike, hated Christmas--oh, not the the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it--overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma--the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son, Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended, and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged the shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.

It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly. "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."

Mike loved kids--all kids--and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting-goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed an envelope on the tree, with a note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.

His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in the succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition--one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there, either.

You see, we lost Mike last year, due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further, with our grandchildren standing to take down the envelope.

Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, always will be with us.

Boundary Bass Club Fellas Take Their Game to the North River

Saturday, Dec. 4, 2021, dawned clear and bright, but there still was a bite in the air that greeted those 17 anglers in 10 boats who blasted off from Waterlily at 8 a.m. for their tournament day on the North River.

As the day wore on, temperatures rose into the 60s, making for comfortable fishing conditions. At day's end, a total of 26 bass were brought to the scales, weighing a combined total of 54.56 lbs., which translates into an average weight of 2.09 lbs. per fish.

Those who claimed pay envelopes when all was said and done included the following:

1st Place, the team of David Dozier and Nelson Anderson, with a limit of five fish, for a total weight of 11.58 lbs. Their big fish tipped the scales at 2.96 lbs.

2nd Place, the team of Ken Matthias and Jim Leavis, with five fish, for a total weight of 11.40 lbs. Their big fish tipped the scales at 4.03 lbs.

Lunker Prize for the tournament, weighing 5.47 lbs., was caught by Vince Stuccio. He and his partner, Leo Boisvert, had a limit, which weighed in at 8.81 lbs.

Here is how the rest of the field finished:

     * The team of Mark Ingram and Gabe Himmelwright, five fish, 9.76 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
     * The team of Bob Clarkson and Dustin Alley, four fish, 6.91 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
     * The team of Sid Ryan and Kevin Massie, three fish, 4.67 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
     * Richard Woods, one fish, 1.43 lbs. total weight, no big fish.
     * James Calhoun, Red Bruun, and the team of Steve Bailey and Dennis Dean didn't weigh any fish.

The next Boundary Bass Club tournament is scheduled for Saturday, Dec. 18th, at Pungo Ferry.

For Period Ending Sunday, Dec. 19, 2021

Saturday, Dec. 4 (from Wayne and Ken)...We journeyed down NC way to participate in today's regular tournament out of Bob's Fishing Hole. It didn't take long after the 8 a.m. blastoff to figure out today's fishing was going to be different than last week. Where we already had boated six bass in the first hour and a half a week ago, we only had a couple of pickerel and a dink bass to show for our efforts in the same span of time this morning. It ended up taking us six hours to amass a limit of three small keeper bass today, along with about four pickerel. Two of the keeper bass fell for mid-level crankbaits, and the other one went for a jerkbait. A quick look at the weigh-in board before we headed home this afternoon revealed that the vast majority of anglers had a lackluster day. While the weigh-in process still was in progress as we bid our adieu, it was easy to detect only three totals in the 5-lb. range and several in the 3-lb. range, which is where we fell in the grand scheme of things. Ran into Andy and Diana Morath at Bob's today, as well as my former West Neck partner, Paul Celentano. Had a call from Gabe Himmelwright after arrival at home, letting me know it'll probably be tomorrow before he can get me the results of their Boundary Bass Club tournament today. Will post those results on the blog as soon as I receive them, so stay tuned.

Saturday, Dec. 18 (from Ron)...Landed back in town from a business trip at noon yesterday, went home, prepped my gear, and launched (at HRBT) at 3 p.m. Caught a couple of small stripers before landing my best of the day...a 34-incher! With that fish in my lap, and arm fully extended to try and get the photo, I took a bunch of poor pics. May need to get one of those selfie sticks.

December 2021 Best Fishing Times