Moving on from St. Johns

The first flight heads out.

I’ve been fishing tournaments since I was 10 years old. My daddy and I spent a lot of days on the water, and although some turned out better than others, I learned one thing early on – nothing good comes out of living in the past.

That’s how I’m dealing with my 77th-place finish on the St. Johns River. Finishing in the 70s stinks, but it could’ve been worse. I could’ve finished in the 90s or lower.

Yeah I didn’t get a check, but it’s not like it was catastrophic for the season. So you just move on. I’ll try to do everything I can do to make up those lost points in the remaining events.

Looking back, I think a couple of things hurt me on the St. Johns. First off, I never got a big bite.

That’s the thing with Florida – you have to catch a big one each day. I was looking for bed fish, but I didn’t find any big ones that were locked on good enough to catch.

It seemed like the majority of anglers fished the west side of Lake George, but I always try to get away from the crowds for a couple of reasons. First, fishing pressure can really wear on an area. Also, if your day starts slowly and you’re watching guys in other boats slinging 5- and 6-pounders, it can really jack with your head.

I spent my time around the Palatka area where I targeted canals and the main river. During practice I found some big ones in the canals, but by the time the tournament rolled around, they were gone. I had hoped more would move up, but I only saw bucks.

I have to admit, sight fishing is really not my strong point, but when you go to Florida in the spring, you pretty much have to.

I tend to look for the little hidden places where most guys don’t want to go. I fish for scattered singles, but this time it didn’t happen.

In the canals, I was just going along looking for opportunities to sight fish. On the main river, I was targeting the outside edges of eel grass and holes in the eel grass where bass were spawning.

Overall, I just never gained the momentum I needed. I didn’t have a great first day, but on the second day, I went back in the canals because I was within striking distance of making the cut.

Twenty pounds in Florida isn’t that hard, and 20 pounds would have moved me up where I needed to be going into the third day. You do that again and you find yourself in the Top 12.

Day 2, started on low tide, which is good for sight fishing. I honestly thought I’d go back into some of those areas I had fished the first day and find a couple of big fish, finish out a limit and make the cut.

At 1:30, I had three, and I had to check in at 3:20. That’s when I went out to the main river and just started fishing. It took me maybe 30 minutes to figure out where the fish were and I thought to myself, “I should’ve started here this morning.”

The worst thing is that while I was doing it, there was not a soul in sight. I had no company.

Now, you might think that I would’ve been in full-blown panic mode with that second day coming to a close. But the mindset in Florida is that you have to get five first and then you only need two big bites. That will salvage your whole day and make you look like a hero.

That’s why you never really hit panic mode, because you know that your next cast could be a 5-, 6- or 7-pounder. Even on the second day when I had three at 1:30 and my check in was in two hours, I wasn’t really panicking. I knew that if my next cast was an 8-pounder, I didn’t need five.

To put this into perspective, if it’s one o’clock on Lake Hartwell and you had 10 pounds and you hadn’t had a bite in three hours, you’d be scratching your head in panic. There are just not many 8- to 10-pound fish there.

But in Florida, that’s a different story. Your boat is probably within 50 feet of an 8- to 10-pounder everywhere you stop. It’s just a matter of whether you can get him or her to bite or not.

As it turned out, I should’ve gotten on those river fish a lot sooner. I really didn’t start fishing out there until the last hour and a half on the second day, which was my final day.

I figured out that it was a lot better than I thought it would be. I literally caught a 3-pounder on my last cast and I had to go.

What can I say? A day late and a dollar short.

But I’ll get past this one. Actually, I think the bad tournaments make you hungrier. They make you fish harder the next time.

Anyway, I’m not one to dwell on things like this. What’s in the past should be left there.