A fine day and a beast of a smallmouth

[Al Agnew]

Friday was one of those days that make spring in the Ozarks such a perfect time and place. The weather couldn't have been better--cool in the morning, warming to perfectly comfortable during the day, just a slight breeze, not a cloud in the sky. I was on the creek by 10 AM, and it was at a perfect level for floating, with enough water in the riffles to preclude scraping bottom in most, even though this is a small, narrow, brushy little creek. It's not easy to get to, not easy to get a shuttle unless you know somebody, and it's not going to be named here because I'm surely selfish enough to want it mostly to myself.

Have any of you seen the DVD, "The Secret"? I watched it the other day. Its premise is that you "invite" good things by thinking about them and even being grateful for them before they happen. That was much on my mind as I started down the creek. I was already grateful for being able to be on a fine Ozark stream on a fine day, and I was thinking I should be grateful ahead of time for how good the day was going to be. I was also thinking about NOT allowing negative thoughts to gain a foothold in my mind. There are times in any float trip, especially a solo one, when you mess up a nice spot either by missing the cast or by allowing the canoe to get too close to it. You get strikes from good fish that you miss. You lose good fish. You hang up in a grapevine. An errant puff of wind turns the canoe the wrong way. There are times when I do get annoyed at such things. But on this day I decided that nothing would bother me. My mantra for the day was, "you don't have to catch every fish in the creek. You don't have to fish every spot. All you have to do is enjoy, and invite the good things in."

Well, I can tell you that it worked.

The creek was air clear. The smallies were mostly done spawning and were hungry. I started out fishing mostly with topwater lures, and the strikes came very regularly. But a lot of the fish just weren't getting hooked. Sometimes, using walk-the-dog type topwaters, that just happens. You'll get the same fish hitting three or four times before either giving up or getting hooked. You'll be getting strikes from three or four fish for every one you hook. But so what? One of the best things about river smallies is the way they hit with such wild abandon. In the clear water, I could watch a lot of them hit. Watch shadows come out from under logs and charge the lure. Watch them zig and zag behind the lure, getting (apparently) madder and madder until they couldn't stand it anymore and whacking the bait. Since most of them were 10-14 inches, if they didn't get hooked or stay buttoned, it just saved me the chore of unhooking them. I was catching enough of the 15-16 inchers to keep me very happy.

But, after a while I got the idea of trying a Superfluke (soft jerkbait). Well, on this day, for a while at least, it was magic. All you had to do was toss it reasonably close to a piece of cover, twitch it a couple of times, and fish would materialize and engulf it. While you were playing one fish, the fluke would slide up the line and others would be following the fight around trying to take it off the line. Pretty soon I had added a couple of 17 inchers to my tally for the day.

This creek produces fish up to 18 inches fairly regularly...I can usually catch one or two 17-18 inchers in a day's fishing on it. Fish bigger than that are rather rare. The habitat is good in places, but some of the bluff holes are badly filled in with gravel. There is one such pool that almost never fails to produce a good fish for me in the one or two times a year I float this creek, but each of the last few years it has filled in more and more. Last year, the only good water left was a 4 foot deep pocket along the bluff bank that was no more than 15 feet long and 5 feet wide, with a couple of big rocks lying in it. But that spot produced an 18 incher last year. So as I approached the pool this year I was interested to see if the pocket would still be there.

It wasn't. The gravel had filled it in to no more than two feet deep. I looked around the pool, and I could see nowhere that was any deeper than that. But, over on the opposite bank, there was a big log lying in the water with what looked like enough space beneath it for a fish to get under it. The water there was no more than two feet deep as well. But I tossed the Superfluke over close to the log, and this big brown shadow glided out and 20 inches of smallmouth leisurely slurped in the fluke. I set the hook and the big fish immediately shot toward a wrist-thick grapevine that was hanging down into the water. There was no way I could stop it, and when the fish got there, it wrapped the line around the vine in a knot that would do a boy scout proud. I had made a long cast, and the canoe was a long way from the grapevine, and there was nothing I could do but set the rod down and paddle as quickly as possible over to it. The whole thing should have been a disaster, but 2/10 Power Pro braided line is STRONG. The fish thrashed around in the 18 inches of water around the vine the whole time I paddled to it, and when I got there, it had pretty well tuckered itself out and was quietly finning on 4 feet of line from the knot in the vine. I hopped out of the canoe, ran my hand down the line to the fish, and lipped it. Not exactly your classic fight with a big Ozark river smallmouth, but surely an interesting experience! There was just enough current that, once I took a photo of the fish and released it, and then extricated the lure and line from the vine, the canoe was 50 yards downriver and I had to run through knee deep water to catch up to it before it got to the downstream riffle.

I was thinking how much bigger that fish looked in the water compared to the 17 inchers I had already caught as I approached a pair of worn down trees in 4 feet of water in a nice run, a mile or two downstream. In the clear water, long casts were necessary, and I made a very long cast with the topwater lure to the those logs, from well upstream. As I played the lure alongside the logs, I began to make out a very long shadow easing out toward the lure. "That can't be a bass," I thought to myself. But it seemed to be looking at the lure. And then it turned and went back underneath the log. I reeled in quickly and picked up the Superfluke rod. By this time the canoe had drifted closer, and when the fish came out again to check out the dancing fluke, I could see it clearly.

I've seen a lot of big smallies in the water, and I'd already seen and caught the 20 incher on this day. This fish was MUCH bigger. I'm absolutely certain it was at least 23 inches. I really think it was closer to 25 inches! I'd be willing to bet it is the biggest smallmouth in this creek, and it may be the biggest Ozark stream smallmouth I've ever seen. It refused the fluke, but just hung in the water for a bit, in clear view, as I drifted closer and closer to it. I should have backpaddled quietly before I got too close, gave the fish a rest, and tried again with something else. But you know what? I realized I didn't really care if I caught that fish. I just wanted to get a real good look at it, to gaze upon it in amazement and maybe a bit of awe. Finally it eased back beneath its log and disappeared.

I'm sure I'll remember that fish for a long time. The image of it, lying there in that clear water, will probably haunt my dreams. Not many years ago, I'd be scheming on how to catch that fish. I'd probably go back after it again and again, maybe at night, maybe with live bait. I've done that with other big fish in the past. But this place is...well...let's just say it's far enough from home and far enough from any access to make it a bit difficult to get to without some expenditure of time and effort. And somehow I'm content to just know that fish is there. I told one good fishing buddy, who I know will keep it quiet and who, if he happens to catch the fish, will certainly release it, where it is. I hope he does catch it, because I really would like to know how big it really is. I also hope that somebody doesn't catch it and kill it, or gig it this coming winter. Sure, I'll probably make one more float trip on this creek this summer, and when I do I'll be trying hard to catch that fish. But if I don't, I'm content with the experience of seeing it on this gorgeous day.

The rest of the float was not quite so eventful. The fish eventually turned off a bit, and the last couple of hours the fishing was somewhat slow. For those interested in numbers, I ended up catching 82 bass. I finished the float a hour or so before sunset, and had a long drive to a get-together with a bunch of good friends for a night of barbeque and cards.

Life is good.

[Terry Beeson]

VERY kewl, Al...

[kkparks_3]

Awesome story Al!

Even though I read your story already on another site, I have to admit I read the entire story again here.

That was almost as descriptive as your paintings. Good read.

Kevin