The cool pre-dawn air was a bit crisp as we ripped across the lake, throwing a rooster tail high in the air. We had a destination in mind, and the anticipation was running high. Wanda and I always look forward to a fishing trip, and we knew that today...like in the immediate future we were going to have some fish tugging on our line. Darrel cut the motor and we silently glided across the water before dropping the trolling motor overboard. With eyes locked on the depth finder, Darrel said, "There is a ball of shad and some fish holding under them. Let your spoon go all the way to the bottom then reel it back up three turns."
It is always exciting when you are hunting fish and you find them under their favorite food source. When the fish are tailing the shad, they are ready to feed. Any unsuspecting, careless, or injured shad will be picked off by the predators lurking below. We didn't find the fish by accident; we were fishing with our long time friend and guide Darrel Binkley of Bink's Guide Service. We have fished with him many times over the years, and I have to say he is one of the best fishermen that I have ever been in a boat with. "You should be getting bit about now. Pay attention!" Bink instructed. I ripped my rod tip towards the surface then let the Many Shad spoon freefall back through the school of shad and fish. My line stopped momentarily, making a small curl on the top of the water. I set the hook hard and was rewarded with strong, rod throbbing resistance. In a couple of minutes, I had a nice walleye in the boat. A few minutes later, I set the hook again and this time the fight was not as hard as I expected. I was somewhat puzzled as a saucer sized bluegill reluctantly surfaced, making big circles in the water. The big brilliantly colored bluegill had been in more than thirty feet of water, hanging under the school of shad. Though, I have been catching bluegill my whole life, this one was bigger than any I had ever caught.
A pair of bald eagles winged overhead as we moved to another spot. Wanda, Darrel, and I had our lines in the water, ripping the spoons through the school of shad and fish, then letting it freefall back towards the bottom, resembling an injured shad. I looked at Wanda's line and it was angled towards the back of the boat instead of going straight down into the water. It is important to keep your spoon as vertical as possible when fishing in this manner, so being a good husband I called this to Wanda's attention. As usual, in a good mannered way, she informed me that she would let her line lag behind if she wanted to, and that I might ought to mind my own business and fish the way I wanted to. By the time the little blonde had given me the "what for" and I decided that she would just have to be content not catching any fish, her rod bent double. One of the things that I love so dearly about Wanda is that when she catches a fish (any fish) there is always a lot of verbal emotion exhibited, like whooping and hollering, especially if she caught that fish by fishing in a manner that I have told her that was not the proper way. The toothy, marble-eyed. golden brown walleye was no exception. Of course, it was the biggest fish of the day, weighing more than five pounds, and I still have not heard the last of it. But that's okay, too. It is all in a day's fishing.
We caught walleye, hybrids, bluegill, and stripers, and I came close to my heart's desire of catching a very big striper. I have caught several stripers, but that big one has always eluded me. When I set the hook on a very heavy fish, I knew that it most likely was a big striper. After the fish almost took my rod away from me, almost pulled me off the deck of the boat when it decided to go under the boat, I just knew it was a really big striper. I was excited to be living the dream of catching a big, beautiful, slivery-sided striper that I have longed for so often. It would only be a matter of wearing the fish down in the open water. Well, until my line went solid. "The fish has me hung on something, Bink!" I said in dismay. "That's not possible, Tommy. There is only one tree in this whole cove. Where is the fish now?" Bink asked. I pointed to where my line was solidly hooked against something other than the giant surging fish. "That's not good. That is where the tree is located," Bink said as he turned the boat in that direction. My heart sank as the I reluctantly broke the line. Oh, well. Tomorrow may hold my big striper, but if I never catch one, it will not be due to the fact that I have not tried. What I do know is that we had spent a wonderful day catching a variety of good fish in one of the most beautiful places on the planet...Arkansas!
reprinted by permission: Paxton Media Group
