Bass Club

by Amanda Vallo

A Refresher

Refresher last weekend I joined my Fishing Buddy Bill…his buddy Bud, Ron and John on their annual fishing trip to Lake Erie. Bill and his friends have been fishing together since 1986. This trip started as an outing for their Bass club, became “The Old Farts Tournament” and is now “we just fish Lake Erie the whole month of May.”

I arrived late Friday with a wake up call of 7:30am.

FIRST RULE OF THE BASS CLUB—Early to Bed and Early to Rise!

9:00pm LIGHTS OUT!

Zzzzz….

7:13am I’m awake! And…

I am not a speedy morning person. So, thankfully the “new do” looked amazingly good. I stood admiring the new cut in the mirror, “you know I can probably get away with this.” (i.e., without wetting and styling)

SECOND RULE OF BASS CLUB—No dawdling or put on a hat!

So, I left my room layered in two t-shirts, BASS shirt on top, Fishing Goddess on the bottom. The BASS for when I was playing goalie…(think catching fish in the net as Bill yanks in the big ones) Fishing Goddess for when I was casting (see then I’m on offense and Bill’s on defense– jumping out of the way!)

Actually, it was pretty chilly, 55-60 degrees and I’d packed pretty light. THIRD RULE OF BASS CLUB! Layer for warmth!

8:00am Quick breakfast at? The Breakfast Place

Bill—French Toast.
Me—Pancakes deet deet deet dee deet deet dee deet…pancake report…interesting unique texture and flavor…would describe as spongaciously delicious like Betty Crocker snack cake…rubbery, sweet, good, jogging for the mastication muscles.
Ron—Toast and a milk. The previous evening Ron ate a plate of spaghetti as big as his head that had not settled well.

9:03am—FOURTH RULE OF BASS CLUB—Names must rhyme!

Don couldn’t make it this year so Bud brought John. I’ve determined all additional members in the Bass Club must have names that rhyme. See it could be Ron and Don, Ron and John or even Don and John…just not Ed (actually, Ed couldn’t make it).

And, I figure since I’m the first female all names must rhyme with my name, Amanda. That leaves, well…umm Shanda and any Yolanda’s which don’t mind being called Yo lan da.

Tutorial

We are fishing for bass, why bass? Because this is a sport fish, which always means we are supposed to be at least somewhat competitive. Remember this.

And, we are going to be portage fishing—when you fish in the portage area (shallow water). If you’re at the office, your desk…wherever, please practice along. We learn by doing.

Cast your line…get it real close to the shore, next to rocks, any pipe openings, legs of the docks or you’re co-workers. Wait…let the baited hook sink to the bottom… jerk it a little to get their attention…wait… jerk it again… and then SET THE HOOK! Yank the pole up HARD so the hook gets the little fish right in the mouth! (hmmm–first rule of Amanda, ouch)

The Crew
(pictures to click on here)

(Bud and Ron)
I’ve met Bud and Ron before. click click
Two white adult males, 55-60yrs. old.

(John)
John–OSU hat, sunglasses, late 50’s fisherman body. Likes: beer and battered fried fish. He has a way of making a lady feel comfortable.

This was the first time I met John. He said something like “How’s it cookin’ good lookin’?” Not in a lecherous, suggestive way but just in a way like that’s all he knows to say to a woman. I could forgive this. Figure besides his wife he doesn’t see too many (women) and maybe less and less of her. Fisherman’s wives are not like the kind pining away after their men lost at sea. Ron’s wife paid him $1,000 last year to go fish. “Get out, out of the house! Here, whatever it takes!”

Anyway…

(click)

The Boat
(www.rangerboats.com)

Bill’s boat is a Ranger Bass Boat with red sparkle paint. It’s a low rider, with two swivel chairs. Bill sits in front and is in charge of the trolling motor–like a little fan on a stick that sits off the front of the boat. It pulls you along real slow, along the water edges where fish hide! Bill operates it via a foot pedal so his hands are free to fish.

Practice…practice…just like you are stepping on the accelerator or foot pedal to the Singer (sewing machine).

Me I’m second chair. I sit in the back next to the motor. The chair sits up high and when I cast, I like to swivel a little–wahoo!

If you’re in an office chair practice…please practice. I’ll wait.

We cast off the side of the boat. I’m a right handed cast so I cast with a sidearm flick. Back over the motor and forward release…plop. Back over the motor and forward rel…plop. No? OK, how bout back over the shoulder…high relea…plop (straight down).

FIFTH RULE OF BASS CLUB! Two feet in front of the shoreline is where you want your cast to be!

10:12 am Fishing the Junk Yard

And, Merrily-merrily-we-troll-along-life-is but-a-dream. I’m catchin nothing. Bill’s got four or five. “Real nice ones.”

So I give it a little more umff…cast into the shoreline, the bushes, into the little bendy tree limbs…

Bill says “gonna tell ya something.”

“yeah?”

“Ain’t gonna catch nothin up there.”

“That’s not true.” I say, “I caught a twig. And I might catch a bird…birds like worms too ya know.”

10:58am

I finally get my casting down.

And, I’m just thinkin, row row row your boat…Bill now you sing!
Interesting this Junk Yard place at Lake Erie…it’s very junky…scary junky…

We pass a junky old school bus…Canton County…driven onto an island of gravel in the middle of a Lake? That’s takin the field trip a little too far. Two or three abandon cranes…kind with cables and claw hookers for grabbing up piles of dirt…beat up old wooden boats kind use for fishing on the ocean…names like Top Notch, Miss Fit, Love Boat IV.

“Everybody now! Life is but a dream…”

SIXTH RULE OF BASS CLUB—NO SINGING!

(rats!)

But can I dance?

Question:
What do men do on a fishing trip? What do they talk about?

SEVENTH RULE OF BASS CLUB—NEVER TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU TALK ABOUT IN BASS CLUB!

(Hmmm, second rule of Amanda–blah blah blah)

Some about life, we talked about Bill’s son Tim…some about the good old times… Mostly I learned though, they talk about—fish. Where to catch them.

“Yeah, we were over in the docks yesterday.”

“Back by channel 2?”

“No, over one behind it caught us some real nice fish over there.”

We ran into Ron on his boat as we came out of the Junk Yard.

“Yeah, I just got into some smallmouth over by the Railway Bridge a whole bunch over there.”

(Ron’s always “getting into” the fish)

Good fisherman apparently can also get all the fish in one area or more impressively determine the location of a particularly big fish, next to a particular dock and then go back and get it. (Smart fisherman or stupid fish, you be the judge).

Bill decided, we needed to go over and fish the docks!

11:32 am Fishing the Docks

but first…

Where do fishermen pee?

Fishermen pee off the back and or side of the boat or in the Johnny on the spot can. Fisherwomen unless they are very talented, do not. Fisherwomen have to be run back to shore to pee in the Port-O-Johnny.

I award three stars to the Lake Erie Port-O-John. It was large, spacious, with hand rail. It did not particularly smell, there was entertainment (a flyer to read on the door inside) and a hand sanitizer dispenser.

OK, fishing the docks…

But first let’s play “Fact or Fishin”

EIGHTH RULE OF BASS CLUB–NO SILLY QUIZ GAMES!
(Third rule of Amanda. oh yes we do!)

So, if you think it’s true just yell out “Fish!” If you think it’s false? “Fishy!”

FACT OR FISHIN

–Large mouth bass are really just small mouth bass all grown.
–Fish have tongues.
–The ideal water temp for bass fishing is 85 degrees.
–People tend to drown from hypothermia (Remember, if you missed this one, see Jack fallin off the raft–Titanic—and wear your life vest!)
–Lake Erie was named for the Erie Indians.
–Lake Michigan was really named Lake Bert (by the French) so they could have
“Bertie” and Erie.

*Answer Key—Fishy, Fish, Fishy, Fish, Probably and Fishy!

Anyway,

FISHING THE DOCKS!

At Lake Erie there is an open Bay where people fish. It is very choppy. Then there are also the channels or residential areas where people live and have built boat docks.

When you “fish the docks” you are pitching the line in—doing a little 10-15ft. flip of the wrist to release and pitch the line forward, like tossing a horseshoe (clink), doing the ring toss (clink) at the fair. No? OK, overhand slow pitch softball toss (clunk) tossing the garden hose to the next person ready to wash their car…

What I’m trying to illustrate is that there is an art to this. I don’t/didn’t have it. My tosses somehow did not leave the boat.

Again, hard to catch anything that way.

So, I settled for practicing my short game. Short, short casting is like practicing the chip shot in golf.

“Hey, not too bad.”

2:00pm STILL not catch anything…

When you fish the channels, you get to talk to people as you pass in the boat. Early May that’s going to be other fishermen in their bass boats or more likely the locals up in their yards watering the flowers.

“So, how ya doin?” was always followed with “Did you catch any?”

Me? I just smiled (oh, no, but I almost caught a bird?)

Bill always said
“Aw caught a few, four or five, not too good.” Bill’s never doin too good.

NINTH RULE OF BASS CLUB NEVER TELL THEM WHAT YOU REALLY CATCH!

2:48pm STILL NO BASS

Question: Why do “guys” guys really like to fish?

Hold on I have to go get my counselor hat and whoopee cushions for this one…

OK, I think it’s because they secretly feel this is an OK time to be alone with and excited to be with other men. Plus you have the added bonus of shooting the bull, bragging or taunting one another from the safety of your craft.

“Hey, there looks like two fishermen!” We found Bud and John fishing in one of the channels. Bill seemed very happy, excited like they’d been lost at sea for days.

There was a lot of fish bait talk, inside jokes I’m not sure I got.

It was kind of nice, really, a looser form of intimacy.

Anyway,

3:30pm I’m still not catching anything cept cold! It’s warmed up to 58F but it’s WINDY!

Swing low sweet chariot
Comin for to carry me home…

TENTH RULE OF BASS CLUB NO COMPLAINING!

ELEVENTH RULE OF BASS CLUB (uhg so many rules) NEVER TELL LOCATION OF THE BASS CLUB!

So, then, we turn the corner and get into Channel Slow, No motors! KEEP OUT PRIVATE! We seem to be obeying all watercraft laws otherwise so I assume we’re sanctioned to be here by the states. And if not? as Bill says, oh well.

(Bill says anywhere there’s water you can fish—not sure if that’s a Bill rule or a state rule).

Good sign, all the people were very nice and friendly and wanted to chat.

3:52pm FIRST STRIKE!

“How’s the fishin?”

(I’m in my full Ranger gear now. Ranger hat, Ranger Boat jacket, hood up).

I’m decidedly not looking too cool. I let Bill handle it.

“Not too good.”

“Catch any?”

“Four or five.”

Bill pulled three real nice ones into the boat and we rounded the corner.

And, I cheered for him. Partly because I think I hear the Fishermen passing behind us in their “suped-up Danger Ranger” whizz cast whizz cast faster as I hooted and hollered a bit more than usual (to make the Ranger guys think they were losin) “Wow what a huge huge fish!”

TWELVETH AND FINAL RULE OF BASS CLUB—THERE AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE ANY RULES IN BASS CLUB!

Sitting there I’m not afraid to say it, I was getting bored not catching anything.

So…what to do? Time for quiet contemplation.

No, no, go away. This is not the time for this. (Having the Buddhism kick in, it’s a bad time while you fish). There’s something not very happy going on if you really watch the fish. Flipping around on the deck, hook down the throat, in the mouth, the bloody, now air sucking gills, the wide eyes, the creeeuup as the hook is de-hooked. The desperation wave of the tail, as they make a side smack into the water when you throw them back and they flail away…perhaps too stunned or injured to make it back to the nest.

Fishing? It’s like nibbling a piece a cheese at a party…you’re like mmm hors d’oeuvres then some stranger walking by ramming the toothpick up your nose…(OK, there’s definitely no Buddhism in Bass Club)

I can do this.

Crisis has passed. I’m just hoping one. Just one little one will hop up into the boat with me. I’m now willing the fish in. Just suck onto the rubber worm!

3:58pm No fish.

4:00pm Fish sacrifice.

Hook em through the lip. That’s all you’re supposed to do. You feel the tug and then SET THE HOOK!

My fish? hooked em through the belly. The fish swallowed, working it all the way down the digestive system bout out the anus til I noticed it. “I’VE GOT ONE!!!” (wahoo) I set the hook, reeled, tugged, and yanked just like Bill said.

Bill said, “OK, quit reeling.”

I said. “But I’m fightin it Bill, I’m fightin it!” (reel reel the poles bending)

“OK, just yank er in…”

(reel reel reel) “But Bill, she ain’t tired yet! It’s gotta be an 18 pounder get the gaft! get the net! Hurry!” (I’m riding it) should we club it? The lines movin “see took er right under the boat!”

OK, actually?

One yank, fish pops up into the boat, probably a one-pounder, maybe 6-7 inches (to keep them they have to be at least five lbs. and 14 or 15in.).

The two Ranger Boat dudes cruised by again—I was like WAHOO I caught a fish!

“Er um, yeah she’s no good throw er back.”

“Naw you get to hold er first.”

Bill unhooked her as I cringed–ow, ow, ow! She made a creeup creeup sound.

“No, just throw her back.”

“Naw, now you got to hold her.”

Holding my first baby bass, Bethany (I named her) I said, “thank you Bethany.” She made a “creeup creeup” sound. I quickly went “OK, catch and release!” Bethany had two rows of teeth, a tongue, big eyes and was gasping for water. flip and a (plop) she was gone.

Finally tally?

Ron, bottomed out the scales. The arrow went around til it couldn’t go any further. “I still coulda got more on there!”

Bill, caught somewhere between 15-20 bass (both largemouth and small mouth) two or three real nice ones “keepers.”

Bud and John, lost at sea still fishing when we left. I’d say they won the tournament (Ron would probably argue) and tell their wives they were happy.

Me, one baby bass named Bethany.

–The End

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~ This piece was posted on Wednesday, June 15th, 2005 and was filed under Writing, Short Story. You can make comments on it below. ~