The last few Progressive Bassmaster Elite Series tournaments were old school, shallow bass fishing on muddy rivers where I had to grind for every bite. Just getting into some of the backwaters was challenging. I often had to nurse my boat over logs, stumps and other obstacles in skinny water.
Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway
The first of these events took place on the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway. I learned from my research that several tournaments had already been held at the ramp where we were taking off.
I fished around the ramp on Day 1 to see if any released fish were still hanging around. They were. I had only six bites, but my bag weighed 14 pounds, 3 ounces and landed me in 13th place.
I started at the ramp the next morning but couldn’t get a bite there. I locked up, which is a gamble because you risk not getting back through the lock in time to weigh in.
After locking up, I struggled to catch two bass barely long enough to be legal. I called the lockmaster to see if I could lock back down earlier than the appointed schedule. He agreed, and I locked down with three other Elite anglers.
I fished around the lock and boated two keeper spotted bass. My fishing time was running out. I was discouraged and unsure of what to do.
On the way back to the ramp, I ducked into a narrow pocket. Chris Zaldain was there, fishing on one side of the backwater. I fished the other side. He and I became good friends years ago when we were young California bass nuts.
Chris told me he had about 12 pounds. I told him I had four small bass and needed one more for my limit. I fished faster than Chris because I had an earlier check-in time and only minutes left to fish.
I reached the end of the pocket first and started up the other side toward Chris. When I got to him, he was directly in front of two trees that had big-time potential.
I pulled up my trolling motor with the intention of making the run back to the ramp. Chris told me to put my trolling motor back into the water and to cast to one of the trees. I refused to do it, but he insisted.
I did as he wished, skipped a wacky Senko into one of the trees and caught a bass over 3 pounds. I quickly dumped the fish into my livewell, made the run back and checked in with one minute to spare.
Chris’ incredible act of friendship and sportsmanship allowed me to finish the day in 40th place. After doing the math, I learned I would have finished the day in 82nd place without that last-second bass.
On Day 3, I managed to grind out only two bass. But thanks to Chris, I finished 48th and logged a slew of Angler of the Year points.
There was a shad spawn going on during the tournament, and I caught some of my fish on an Evergreen Grass Ripper swim jig. Even more productive was the Yamamoto wacky Senko I fished in spawning areas.
Arkansas River
The next tournament at the muddy Arkansas River also produced some last-minute heroics. The best area I found in practice was in Kerr Reservoir. To get to my fish required a 25-mile run to the downriver lock, the time locking through and another 25-mile run across the lake.
I made my first cast at 9:30 and had only three hours or so to fish. The stress of that time crunch was horrible. The gamble paid off with a 16-9 limit that put me in 20th place.
I made the same run the second day and had to grind for six bites. I lost one of those fish but caught a 4-pounder at the last minute. That kicker held me in 42nd place.
Because bites were so hard to come by the second day, I decided not to lock through on Day 3. I sacked 11-11 pounds and moved up to 37th place.
In that event, I got to throw a spinnerbait, a buzzbait and a frog. I also caught a few bass by flipping wood.
