Back in the eighties I was an avid bass fishing fanatic. I read everything on bass fishing that I could get my hands on and read Michael Jones “Out and About” fishing column in W.O.N with reverence every week. To me, he was a fishing “GOD” of sorts and through him unlimited information on bass fishing in the Southland. The bass fishing mecca on the U.S. western coast had to be the lakes in San Diego county. My world revolved around bass fishing and it seemed that on Mondays I was already planning for Saturdays fishing trip down to San Diego. My folks lived in Rancho Bernardo a short distance to Lake Hodges which was considered one of the premier bass fishing lakes on the bass fishing scene in western U.S. Back then I didn’t own a bass boat and had to rent boats on the lakes. It was a hell of a juggling act to arrange getting a rental boat reservation living in Orange County. I found a weekly routine of waiting for the lake venues to open up so I could be one of the first anglers to get a confirmed reservation for a rental boat. It was agony some days just trying to get through since there were only a limited amount of boats for rent and it seemed every bass enthusiast had the same idea in mind.
I never missed fishing the opening weekend of fishing on Lake Hodges. No matter what the weather had in store I would be fishing Hodges on the opener. In early March the weather out here on the west coast is frequented by rain storms and I fished often enough ill prepared for rainy conditions as I was younger and stupid as my ex-wife often reminded me. I was so proud of the cart system I schemed up to transport all of my fishing gear from my car to the rental dock which included a MinnKota trolling motor, battery box with deep cycle battery that doubled as a bait well with circulation pump, tackle box, net, fishfinder and lunch box. I was that guy that anglers would look at and think now why didn’t I think of that. I had all the bugs worked out to make my bass fishing a serious past time especially to the eyes of fellow boat renters. My dream or quest was to be one of those guys that pulls up to the dock and asks the dock worker to take my photo of the 10+ lb. Largemouth bass and me, that I had kept alive on a stringer for this moment in my fishing career and like all good stewards of the sport release the fish for all to see my conservation of the species. A perfect day in my head at that time in my life. I know there are many flaws with this dream but those were different times back in the eighties. One particular year the concession operation had changed hands and much to my dismay the reservation system went by the wayside as the new vendor had no idea there was previously a reservation system in place. My world was rocked when the man on the other side of the phone said it was going to be first come first serve for rental boats. Back then, there was so much “hype” about bass fishing and who was going to break the standing world record and that the line on the single lane road into Hodges was about ½ to ¾ mile long with people parked overnight for the opener. By the time I had gotten off work in Orange County and made the 1 ½ hour or longer drive to the lake the line was very long and my chances of getting a rental boat more on the slim side of things. My anxiety over my situation was bad enough that I didn’t get a wink of sleep that night. As morning came the gates were opened and vehicles slowly moved forward towards the concession where you would have to purchase your lake fishing permits, launch fees and of course boat rentals. And then if things weren’t bad enough a couple of guys thought it would be a good idea to skip waiting in line and drive onto the oncoming traffic side of the road to get a jump on everyone. It was a mad house situation. By the time I got to the concession all the rental boats were gone except one. I asked the man at the concession if I could have the boat? His reply was that it was reserved but the guy hadn’t shown up yet. I seriously lost it. I hollered at the guy that I was told it was going to be first come, first serve over the phone and he had to rent me the boat. His reply was that I had to wait till 7:30 A.M and if the guy didn’t show up then I would have the boat. I asked why did they tell me first come, first serve over the phone? “Well, we had so many people complaining about it we decided to take reservations.” I was absolutely awestruck at the stupidity of the new concession owner that words could not express my discontent. So, I patiently waited for 7:30 to arrive which was about 15 minutes away just smoldering when a young guy approached me. “ I understand your trying to rent a boat?” I looked at him and I murmured “Yes, but it’s not certain I’m going to get one” with a very frustrated look on my face. He went on to say that he was just getting into bass fishing and could really use some help learning the sport and would pay for half the boat rental if I was fortunate enough to get the boat. He said he would appreciate learning from a fisherman who knew the lake and surmised that by looking at my cart setup that I was that guy. I have no idea why I said “ok” to the young man. Maybe I just felt sorry for him and felt it was my duty to bring him into the sport of bass fishing on a positive note and that I was a good enough bass fisherman to teach this newcomer? For whatever the reason, I accepted the challenge and found new friend. As the 7:30 hour arrived the concession owner peered his head out the window and said the boat was mine and come sign the paperwork. After signing the rental agreement with paper in hand we headed to the rental dock with fishing gear in tow. The start to my fishing day was about 1 ½ hours behind schedule and with the late start I was sure that my “go to” spot was already occupied but as fate would have it that day no one was there. I was ecstatic with joy and quickly anchored the boat in a manner that no other boater would be able to come between me and the shoreline of deepwater reeds which I felt held my much sought after double digit bucketmouth bass was to be holding up in.
Back in the eighties fishing with live bait was allowed in San Diego County and my bait of choice especially to a big old bass on opening day was a large shiner. In fact, the concession sold them as bait to break the Largemouth Bass World Record. I’m not kidding they really did. They sold them for like $2.50 a shiner and I bought $20.00 worth of those babies to put into my homemade livewell. My new found boating partner was about to get his first lesson in serious bass fishing as I showed him the proper way to tie a knot to his line, not to mention the correct hook and method of hooking a shiner so that it would swim freely and to use an open bail method of fishing with live bait. As we settled into some seriousness about catching a bass and my explaining what he’ll need to do if a bass should take his bait and how to set the hook. Then the skies opened up with buckets of cold hard rain. Remember that part of my wife telling me how stupid I could be? As fate would have it with all the nonsense of the morning I had left my rain gear in the car. And boy, did it rain. So much rain fell from the sky that we needed to bale water from the bottom of our boat. I was freezing and soaking wet from head to toe. My young steward was at least smarter than myself and geared up for our intrepid weather. He seemed comfortable enough that throughout the sky falling down on us he managed to put down maybe three beers and was popping the lid on his fourth brew. I looked at my young friend and had to ask him how in the hell could he continue drinking cold beer with all the rain? To which he responded “ I’m going through a nasty divorce. The beer kills the pain”. I was a little concerned but decided it was his cross to bear and not mine and let it go. A little while later he asked me what do you do if you have to pee while in the boat? I told him to pee into one of the empty beer cans and throw it onto shore. After filling a beer can with urine he then tossed the can directly over my head towards shore showering me further with his urine escaping from the open can. This morning had to go down as one of the worst days fishing ever but my luck continued to slide downward even more. After some scolding from me on the beer can incident I noticed my fishing line started to move sideways from the reeds. Maybe just maybe, GOD was feeling sorry for this soaking wet fisherman and going to reward him with that much sought after fish of a lifetime? As the fish moved into open waters I went to set the hook as hard as I could, and to my utter surprise found that I never bothered to set my drag on the reel. The reel backlashed into a bird’s nest, needless to say my prey escaped with a $2.50 shiner stuck in its mouth as a reward for my stupidity. I sulked back into my seat. No words could be spoken to express my bitter remorse as to the events that just transpired. My fishing partner could sense my loss as if the Mighty Casey had struck out at bat. We didn’t speak of the incident and sat quietly in the boat. Then, as if we were to be pardoned from the misery of the day my fishing partner’s line went taunt. He set the hook and the fight was on. I coached him through the fight as if it was myself fighting the fish. After a few crazy minutes I netted the fish for him, it was a beautiful largemouth bass that I guessed was in the 6-7 lb. range. After a few high fives he stated that it was his first ever bass caught and thanked me for the lessons and help. He also said that he knew I was having a miserable day. And miraculously, the sky had opened up. The sun beamed down upon us as if God had answered my prayers but my lesson learned was that I had made a promise to a young troubled angler to teach him how to bass fish and that promise was kept.
