Catch 'N Release: BASS Trail's Lasting Legacy

Wednesday, December 17, 2003
by Ray Scott

Photo: Ray Scott Outdoors A photo taken at the first B.A.S.S. catch and release tournament in 1972 shows Ray Scott face-to-face with a largemouth bass held in a special holding tank developed to promote "don't kill your catch" bass fishing.

(Note: Ray Scott and BASS's following of avid bass anglers share the credit for the successful "Don't Kill Your Catch" conservation efforts in bass fishing tournaments. However, catch 'n release was adopted after seeing it used by trout fishermen. Over March 9 -11, 1972, Ray introduced catch and release to the bass tournament world at the Bassmaster Florida Invitational on the Kissimmee Chain of Lakes, but it was on a trout stream near Aspen, Colo. that the idea was spawned.)

Pre-Spawn and Spawn

In the summer of 1971 I was invited to speak to the Outdoor Writers Association of America at a function in Pensacola, Fla. In the group was a fly-tier named Al Ellis from Phoenix, Ariz. who listened to my remarks on the conservation efforts by B.A.S.S. to "Peg Polluters" and clean up our waters.

Ellis, as a member of the Federation of Fly Fishermen, invited me to the FFF's Colorado conclave to serve as master of ceremonies. Truthfully, I didn't know a tippet from third base, but I agreed to attend. Not being a fly-fishing expert, I made like a Don Rickles of bassin' and poked fun at the fly-fishing crowd. Their fancy clothes. The little fluffs of sheep skin on their many-pocketed vests. The full-length rubber booties.

These were serious fly fishermen. Names like Lefty Kreh, Jack Hemingway, Gardner Grant, Leon Chandler and other legends of the long-rod sport. The sum of my experience with a fly rod was throwing poppin' bugs for a few largemouth bass and stump-knockin' bluegill. So it was with curious interest that I watched the six fly casters work along a small stream on a field trip outing.

Everybody was dressed in their funny garb and casting about 20 yards apart along the tiny stream. Then downstream a report sounded -- "Fish on!" -- and everyone stopped casting to watch the action.

The trout was no more than 12-inches long, but you wouldn't believe the excitement. From somewhere the guy produced a net. He dipped the fish, pulled a little tool from the vest, carefully unhooked the trout, and very, very gently released it.

Let me tell you: All those fly fishermen went into orbit. They were cheering and high-fiving each other, all over the release of a puny little trout.

The next day on the flight home, I let my brain whirl. If those fly guys can get so turned on by releasing a piddlin' little trout, how would a bunch of hairy-legged bass fishermen act over letting go a 5-pound largemouth? But making it happen was another question.

Post-Spawn

Getting my catch 'n release idea together, I first requested – more like a plea – that the B.A.S.S. tournament pros make an effort to keep their fish alive to weigh-in and hopefully release alive.

In 1972, this was difficult. Bass boats, as we know them today, did not have a livewell, much less an aerated livewell system. But the pros at the Florida Invitational tried. They used coolers, nets and stringers. The water temperature in the Kissimmee river was 72 degrees, but I don't recall a single contestant objecting. There was no reward or penalty for live or dead fish, and about one-third of the bass were released alive.

By the next tournament, I figured out that giving a 1-ounce bonus for each live bass weighed in would be the incentive to spark even more efforts to save the catch. At the time fishery, biologists had confided to me that "hook and line fishing pressure could not possibly severely harm the bass fishing resource, especially on large water."

But I reasoned that public pressure could be a problem as bass fishing and bass tournaments grew in popularity. And even though the dead bass at the weigh-ins were being donated to charity, the sight of a johnboat filled with dead and dying bass on ice wasn't the best public relations image.

To that end, I approached several folks in the bass boat manufacturing business to design a functional livewell system. In the meantime, B.A.S.S. tournament director Harold Sharp along with Don Butler of Tulsa, Okla., the head of Okiebug Fishing Tackle, designed a portable aerated livewell in a 48-quart size Igloo ice chest – complete with a spray bar – run off the 12-volt marine battery. The system served the purpose and later was the basis for the first built-in aerated livewell in Ranger bass boats designed by Forrest Wood.

The catch and release bass tournament concept had just got off the ground, when the B.A.S.S. Tournament Trail stopped at Ross Barnett Reservoir near Jackson, Miss. -- and ran head-first into a road block.

Mississippi Standoff

We'd shown a lot of progress. Bass fishermen were beginning to realize the importance of catch and release to the future of bass fishing. Angling attitudes were changing, but not in Mississippi.

A local group, the Mississippi Association of Bass Clubs, had been killing all their tournament fish and didn't want to arouse any adverse publicity. The situation turned into a political tug-of-war. Fish and Game Commissioner Avery Wood got word from Mississippi Gov. William Waller that "the fish were not to be released."

When I asked the 64-dollar question in Wood's office -- "Why not?" -- he barked back: "Because we don't want you to turn fish loose that have been stressed or diseased and spread disease all over the lake." But I knew there was no scientific evidence to support the anti-release stand. It was politics for sure.

The explanation that our B.A.S.S. organization was going to set the example with catch and release and teach fishermen "you don't have to kill every bass you catch" didn't phase Wood's mind. We had some harsh words and neither of us changed our position. Finally, I stood up to leave and told the Fish & Game Commissioner: "We're going to release every bass possible, unless you've got someone there with a baseball bat to kill 'em."

At the moment, in my mind, the future of catch-and-release tournament fishing was at the crossroads. We couldn't back down. If B.A.S.S. didn't make an effort to release the fish, the momentum we'd generated would grind to a halt.

There was a compromise, of sorts, in the standoff. Mississippi Game and Fish biologists showed up with an aerated tank truck, but deposited the tournament bass in a small, netted-off area about a mile from the weigh-in.

This was August in Mississippi, a bad time because of the hot weather and low dissolved oxygen. The average depth in the netted-off area was only 2 feet, and the combination of heat, shallow water and no shade took its toll. The water temperature was over 90 degrees.

But as it turned out, despite the horrid conditions, 25 percent of the released fish survived. We'd scored a moral victory.

In 1997 the Bassmaster Tournament Trail returned to Ross Barnett and seeing Avery Wood again was an interesting sidebar. "I never thought you'd speak to me," he said. But I had to admit to him: "Man, do you know what you did? You made me more determined than ever. It was a gut-check time. Ross Barnett was the turning point in the 'Don't Kill Your Catch' movement."

The Bandwagon

Over the years, numerous studies and efforts by state Game & Fish Departments have proven the validity of catch-and-release bass tournaments. With improved livewell systems, the advent of catch-and-release chemicals, improved handling at weigh-ins to reduce stress and holding tournaments in cooler-water conditions, the B.A.S.S. tournament staff set the example for others to follow. From the lowly 25 percent release survival at Ross Barnett, the average success rate has reached 98 percent at B.A.S.S.-conducted tournaments.

But that's not the full story of the B.A.S.S. "Don't Kill Your Catch" effort. The angling public in general, and tournament organizations and bass clubs everywhere, climbed on the catch-and-release bandwagon. We've all learned our lessons.

Taking care of the catch before the fish reach the weigh-in is the right answer. If bass arrive in poor condition, not even the best life-support system – cool, aerated live tanks, chemicals or prayer – will be strong enough to save the more stressed-out fish.

To their credit, tournament officials are streamlining weigh-in methods to return bass safe and alive, and reduce delayed mortality. Shimano has sponsored extensive studies on improving bass mortality, especially at tournaments. Recently, I observed a system of water flowing through PVC pipes, funneling bass from the weigh-in stand right into the lake. Al Redding, president of the Alabama B.A.S.S. Federation, demonstrated his system at a benefit tournament on Lake Martin.

If the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society has a lasting legacy, it's the "Don't Kill Your Catch" story -- the everlasting future of the sport of bass fishing. And just think: A piddlin' little 12-inch trout made a difference in the future of the bass fishing.