Miss Laura brought in for my inspection a small bowl of tomato hornworms, a nasty-looking, caterpillary thing that was defoliating her prize tomato plants.
My first question was: "I wonder if you can catch fish with them?"
Thank goodness for the internet, the thread that connects kindred spirits around the globe. I quickly learned this was not an original thought.
From myfishfinder.com on Aug. 4, 2010: "I used some yesterday! Bass love 'em! And my tomato plants look much healthier. Last year I lost track after over 300 worms [sad emoticon]"
That person apparently grew fish bait better than he grew tomatoes.
In response, following a photo of a tomato hornworm: "I'd have to have my wife put that on the hook for me [happy emoticon].
Another response: "Those suckers are gross. I wonder if you could wacky rig it and fish it like a Senko?"
That's how I would do it. Pierce it through the middle with a No. 1 or No. 2 worm hook and flip it under a boat dock. A bass would not resist that live, wiggling action, and while factory colors are better than ever, you can't duplicate the vibrant, luminescent shades of green, black and chartreuse of a live tomato hornworm.
Plus, the get-even factor would be most satisfying.
Another user posed a similar question in July 2010 on www.homesteadingtoday.com. Texasdirtdigger replied: "I throw them in our lake. The catfish swarm for them."
The same question arose in 2008 at bigfishtackle.com and davetclown replied: "One of the biggest bass I ever caught was trolling a hornworm on a crawler harness."
So the verdict is that tomato hornworms and other garden pests are great for fishing.
They are also great for freaking people out.
One of my fishing buddies is an avid gardener who enjoys growing vegetables with his wife, Miss Terri. They were gardening together when Rusty plucked a big tomato hornworm from one of his prized tomatoes and showed it to her. He said she was suitably repulsed.
Oh, how he'd been waiting for this moment.
Unbeknownst to Miss Terri, my friend had a big, green gummie worm in his pocket. He threw the hornworm on the ground, sliced it in half with his hoe and bent down as if to pick it up. When he arose, the gummy worm dangled from his lips. He sucked it in, proclaimed it delicious and asked Miss Terri if she'd like to try one.
She uttered many unkind things to him, ran into the house and locked him out. He said it took some doing to regain his house privileges.
A conversation Monday with Mark Hedrick of Little Rock reminded me of the simple joy of fishing for bass and bream with popping bugs under catalpa trees. It took me back to the summer of 1977, which I spent with two elderly uncles, Bill Ramsey and Demp Ramsey, at their houseboat on Brodie Lake at Wright.
Demp was a crotchety old cuss with a dry, acid wit, but that gruff exterior belied a kind heart. Uncle Bill could speak entire sentences composed only of obscenities, without a single verb or noun, and you knew exactly what he was talking about.
Demp was a lifelong Arkie, but his accent sounded like Vermont or southern Maine. We taught me how to scull a flatbottom boat, how to run the 9.9-horse Johnson outboard and how to fly-fish with popping bugs. He got irate if the bug slapped the water on the back cast.
After those initial lessons, he filled the gas tank and said: "That's all you get for the summer. Don't waste it."
Catalpa trees lined the bank, and fish teemed under those with worm infestations. I became proficient at dropping a popping buck under the low-hanging branches, and it seldom took more than one or two short pops to get a strike. I caught a lot of small bluegills and green sunfish, but I was just as likely to catch a palm-size bluegill. Sometimes a fat redear graced my line. Sometimes it was a bass, and then I really had my hands full.
Our best fishing was at night. Two big floodlights hung over the end of Demp's dock. He turned them on about 10 p.m. Before long, small baitfish swam in circles under the light, and bigger baitfish joined them. Around midnight, big shapes appeared deeper. They were big white crappie, and we caught them one after another every night until about 3 a.m. I'd sleep until about 9 a.m. and start the cycle all over again.
It was all so simple then. And really, shouldn't it be?
Sports on 07/06/2014