Sometimes Light Is Right
Big Fish Scores New Alabama IGFA Record

Thursday, July 1, 2004
by Ray Scott

I felt confident on a recent hot June day on my lake. On board were two well-known bass fishing outdoor writers: Tim Tucker, a senior writer for BASS, and Alan Clemons, the outdoor editor of The Huntsville (Ala.) Times. To their credit, both are journalists of the high order.

By chance, the two writers had shown up at my 55-acre bass pond, known as the "Presidents Lake" from being the past fishing hole for both President George W. Bush and his father, George H. Bush, both lifetime members of the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society. Tucker and Clemons were in the neighborhood covering the recent Bassmaster Elite 50 fishoff on the Alabama River, held at Prattville, Ala.

The writers let on as if they were interested in my lake-building and design used to create "Great Small Waters," a three-set video series detailing my trophy bass waters secrets. We talked about lake design and the importance of structure in a bass lake, the food chain and the value of supplemental feeding to grow big bass.

The day lingers longer in early June, but the afternoon was wearing on, and the two reporters slowed down in their rapid-fire interviewing. I suspected the two were more interested in fishin' than talkin'.

When I asked, "Y'all like to fish a bit?" the recorders were turned off. The note pads were put to rest.

As any bass angler knows, early summer can be a so-so, catch-as-catch-can period. Usually the big fish have slowed down following the spawn and moved out from the easy targets into the shallows to deeper-water haunts. One solution to the problem is to scale down to smaller lures and light line.

I've been pounding the seminar table at the Bassmaster Fishing University for the past 2 seasons on the idea that "light is right" in slow-bite situations. By "light line," I'm talking IGFA-approved 4-pound-test monofilament.

My fishing partners for this day listened politely as the Ray Scott seminar on light tackle was repeated. Then they picked up their hawgin' sticks and winches spooled with 20-pound test.

So be it. They of little faith. Light tackle doesn't mean a limp-wristed weenie rod. The Ray Scott Sportackle spinning rod has a tapered tip for range and accuracy, but a butt section with some backbone and muscle. Team it with the Ray Scott SuperCaster 225 reel with the oversize spinning spool, and like Davy Crockett, you can go bear hunting with a switch. I was grinning a few moments later when on the first cast I felt the slight tap of a bass inhaling the slow-sinking Senko.

The bass moved with the bait, and I leaned forward to sweep the 7-foot rod into action. With 4-pound test line, you don't set the hook, but sweep the rod and use the reel to grind the needle-sharp hook into the fish's jaw. And you pray the bass moves away from the cover.

Good fish telegraph their size. The message comes up the line as a strong signal. This largemouth bass was moving off, like a big rock headed downhill. My right foot hit the trolling motor foot control and moved the boat to keep pace without too much pressure on the fish or the 4-pound test mono.

Playing a big bass on light line is a game of skill – well, part skill and a lot of luck. Then Lady Luck played a hand. The big bass moved away from the structure – a pile of sticks and planted brush on a ridge – into deeper, open water.

The next test is to play the fish, try to wear it down, and move it into hand-landing range without the fish's teeth cutting the thread-like 4-pound string.

I knew that many big fish are lost at the boat. Rush the bass and it makes a last-ditch surge for freedom, and a poor drag setting will break your line and your heart.

The fight lasted over a minute and a half – maybe two. Truthfully it seemed like hours. Some bass you really want to put in the boat. And I wanted this one as pure proof of light-line capabilities.

Tucker and Clemons, like good outdoor journalists, had packed their camera gear. And the steady click, click of the Nikon shutter was in my ear. A few expressions of "that's a good one" and, later, "that's a damn big fish to try to catch on 4-pound line" were sprinkled in their comments.

The largemouth made its predicted last lunge and then rolled up at the side of the boat, and my right hand reached for its big lip.

Silently I whispered, "Thank you, Lord." For sure the bass was a blessing. Holding the big largemouth up for a few more brag-board photos, I suddenly realized the true size of the fish – a possible Alabama state record for 4-pound IGFA test line?

As a matter of record, I knew the IGFA 4-pound-test mark was 6 pounds, 6 ounces landed by my fishing buddy Jim Kientz of Montgomery, Ala. on this very lake. Jim's feat had been duly recorded and certified in the IGFA record book. I've weighed in a passel of lunkers as the weighmaster on the Bassmaster Tournament Trail, and I pretty well can judge a 7-pound bass when I meet it. So I though that this might be a record-setting bass.

Getting a record approved by the IGFA is a labor of love – catching the fish is the simple part. For starters, the paperwork to IGFA must include a description of the tackle, details of the catch, photos, a 50-foot section of the line used, the name of any witnesses and the fish to be weighed on certified scales.

Photo: Ray Scott Outdoors Here's Ray with his record 7-09 largemouth taken on 4-pound-test mono.

So I packed the bass in a water-filled cooler and hustled the record contender up to a nearby country store that had scales. I was determined to keep the fish alive for its return to my lake. My good taxidermist buddy in Birmingham, Ala., Archie Phillips, could produce a replica for me.

The digital scales marked the bass at 7 pounds, 9 ounces.

And the record fish is still alive and well, swimming in the Presidents Lake. Both Tim Tucker and Alan Clemons will attest to the fishing facts. And maybe think seriously about the use of light line for curing the slow-bite times. As good reporters do, they continued to test their hawgin' tackle and well-rope line while awaiting my return from the weigh-in.

And just for the record, the light-tackle bite was still on when I got back in the boat. According to the reporter types, light line produced more and bigger bites than their combined efforts. Sometimes light is right!