Winning at the St. Lawrence was the thrill of a lifetime

Jody White

I signed up for the Bassmaster Open on the St. Lawrence River as soon as I could back in November. As someone just fishing one event, I rode the waitlist from the get-go, but I was at least a solid 29 seconds quicker on the keyboard than AJ Slegona. This year has been pretty incredible for me on the water, but at the time, I just wanted to make sure I’d have a chance to fish a big tournament on a great fishery that isn’t too far from home.

In 2022, I fished the Bassmaster Open at Oneida and got a check, and it was the first time I’d fished as a boater in one since 2019. At the time, I’d never fished a tournament on Oneida, but since moving back to Vermont in 2019, I’ve tried to immerse myself in fishing more than I did when I was living down south. Though going to school at Virginia Tech and then living in Kentucky for a while taught me a lot I wouldn’t have learned up north, I’m at my best in the northeast, with smallmouth, clear water and spinning rods.

So, when I plugged in my credit card info to the website, the goal was a check. Ideally, if things went well, I’d be able to cover the cost of a week of learning at the St. Lawrence, catch a bunch of smallmouth and not drive too far. Of course, the goalposts shifted after the first day of practice.

Setting up the most nervous week of my life

On Day 1 of Official Practice, there happened to be an American Bass Anglers Open Series event out of Clayton, New York so I went ahead and fished it. I practiced for the ABA event in Lake Ontario and had a really swell time – I found a couple cool rock piles, caught some 4-pounders on a spybait – all around fun. But, I never got on more than 19 or 20 pounds in the lake, and it takes a lot more than that to win a derby at the 1000 Islands. So, I decided to start in the river on tournament day – I had some decent history from winning an ABA in the river in 2022, and I figured if it wasn’t working out, I could just roll out to the lake and try not to bomb.

Well, the first four bass on my first stop went over 19 pounds on the Rapala scale. Pretty early in the morning, I had 27 pounds in the ‘well and I had taken the divider out so my kicker could swim around better. Then, I went all over the river near Clayton and caught 4-pounders – I bet I threw back two more 20-pound limits that day. All in all, it was the wildest tournament and practice day I’ve ever had and likely ever will have.

It was an amazing day, and between cash and contingencies it paid more than $6,000, setting me up for a good week almost regardless. On the downside, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wanted to make a long run, and that doing more than catching 21 or 22 pounds a day for a check was on the table.

Putting the plan in place

Saturday night, Billy Gilbert offered me his boat for the tournament. Billy and I went to high school together, and we run similar electronics and trolling motor setups and I talk fishing more in-depth with him than anyone else – it was the perfect scenario. Still, I don’t think I decided on it right away – I still had my original plan of living around Chippewa Bay and Morristown in my head. Then, Sunday morning, I got woken up by storms at like 3:30 in the morning and I was too nervous to go back to bed. I called Billy while he was driving to a tournament and we made a plan to do the boat swap. Then, I took a shower and was the second boat at the ramp at Chippewa Bay, on a dreary, rainy morning that filled me with excitement nonetheless.

On Monday, which turned out to be terribly windy and a good day to miss, I drove to Buffalo to get Billy’s 21-foot Phoenix, leaving my aluminum Vexus in Waddington. After about 8 hours of driving and an hour or so of shuffling tackle around, I was back in the water at Waddington. There, Kyle Patrick taught me how to use Billy’s Garmin units for more than LiveScope, and I did a few drifts to assure myself that I had no idea how to catch bass in the kind of current that defines that part of the river.

On Tuesday, I dunked the boat in out by Clayton and started to poke around. Pretty quickly, I knew making the run was going to be the move for me. Between what I checked and found, I had more options than I could ever use on tournament day.

The last day of practice, I tried and failed to sleep in. Then, I put in at Ogdensburg to poke around more. In my head, I wanted to find something to stop at on the run back, as I was far from sure how the timing of the whole ordeal would go. After a little bit in Ogdensburg, not really catching much, decided to practice running the boat. Strapping everything down, I burned up to Morristown as fast as I could to gain comfortability behind the wheel. Then, I started catching fish again, and even found a few places that made the rotation.

The thrill of a lifetime

The tournament itself has been written about very capably by David A. Brown and Christopher Decker, rehashing that probably isn’t worth it. Suffice to say, I bounced between being calm and collected and incredibly nervous, sometimes for no real reason. Generally, once I started actually fishing all was well, but I had to force myself to eat anything in the morning, and my stomach was in turmoil the entire time.

In retrospect, it was probably a good thing for my health and performance that Cory Johnston was leading the whole time. I regard the Johnston brothers as unassailable on the St. Lawrence, Ontario and really most places where smallmouth live. I went out on Day 3 fully assuming that Cory was going to catch 25 pounds and ice the tournament down – if I had known he’d leave the door open I probably would have forgot to get gas or accidentally drove to Kingston because I was so nervous. 

When I got in the no-wake at the end of the day at Waddington, I immediately asked my marshal, James Cobbs, what Cory had. When he told me BassTrakk has him at 19 pounds my nerves started working overdrive again. I’ve been to a million weigh-ins for work, and I know that the margin between Cory and I on Day 3 wasn’t actually that much on the St. Lawrence. But, logic wasn’t really present on stage for me. I didn’t really believe it until Hank Weldon read off the weight, and despite the trophy living on the kitchen counter, it still feels pretty surreal.

I’ve been immersed in fishing basically my whole life, from poring over North American Fishing Club magazines in my youth to basically spending all of my work and leisure time involved in fishing now. Winning any tournament is a good time, but to win a major three-day event is the sort of lifetime accomplishment that I’ve dreamed about without really thinking it was going to happen. I know how good the competition is and how much must align for wins to happen at that level. The fact that it happened for me is still mind-blowing, even a month later with dust on the trophy.