Let's talk

Bass ‘conversations’ make for good outing at Lake Hamilton

Arkansas Democrat-Gazette/BRYAN HENDRICKS
A memorable day fishing on Lake Hamilton with Tyrone Phillips reminded the writer how to catch bass in cold weather Friday.
Arkansas Democrat-Gazette/BRYAN HENDRICKS A memorable day fishing on Lake Hamilton with Tyrone Phillips reminded the writer how to catch bass in cold weather Friday.

HOT SPRINGS -- If you listen, fish will tell you what they want.

"Listening" to fish engages several senses, but not hearing. Many of their cues are visual. A lot of it is touch, some of it is intuitive, and a big part of it is visceral.

For example, I knew the exact moment fish started biting Friday at Lake Hamilton. For most of the morning the sky was gray, and the air was cold, damp and windy. My head felt as if a brick and a tube of glue were stuffed in my sinuses.

Just before noon, I felt the air pressure change. It was subtle, but I felt and heard a slight pop under my right orbit. My sinuses started draining and the throbbing pressure in my temples vanished. Just like that, it was a brand new day.

Whenever that happens while I'm on the water, that's almost always the instant the fish start biting. It's because whatever happened in the atmosphere made them feel better, too, and they feel like eating. Unfortunately, I was still about 90 minutes away from getting on the water.

By the time I launched my boat, the golden window of activity had passed and a high-pressure front had cleared the sky and fanned a stiff, bitter wind.

I had five rods in the boat. Tied on one was a new Live Target Bait Ball crankbait, a regular square-billed, clear-bodied crankbait. Molded inside the body are the profiles of small threadfin shad. It looks like a small school of bait, and it is the closest thing there is to a three-dimensional lure.

Another rig wore a blue chrome Luck-E-Strike RC STX jerkbait, while another was rigged with a Texas-rigged Zoom Junebug colored Tiny Lizard.

I spent a good while throwing the Bait Ball crankbait at docks in Mazarn Creek. I worked each dock from every angle, hitting the outside corners and both sides, and then came across the front of the docks after I passed. I also threw into empty boat slips. I got a good workout but no fish.

I recalled a similar day on Lake Hamilton in 2009 when I fished with Tyrone Phillips. We caught a lot of bass fishing docks in main-lake coves with Lucky Craft jerkbaits that looked a lot like the RC STX.

I boated to a main lake cove and worked the docks with RC STX jerkbait the same way I had worked the other docks with the crankbait. Again I got no bites.

The water is very clear at Lake Hamilton right now, and with good sunglasses you can see things that you can't see in a normal pool. One thing I saw was a big brush pile under a dock and a bigger brush pile was to the side of the dock next to a drop-off.

I jerked the RC STX over the top of the side brush pile with a rapid retrieve. I snapped the rod hard with each crank to make the lure dart and dive dramatically. I didn't get a bite, but a burly bass followed the lure at a cautious distance.

I cast over the brush pile again, but this time I used short, subtle strokes. More importantly, I waited a long time between strokes and let the suspending lure sit.

Warding off anxiety and impatience as long as I could, I started to pop the rod when a 2-pound largemouth zipped out of the brush and smacked the lure. There was nothing lethargic or tentative about the strike. It was a killing move.

By the time I landed and released the fish, the wind had blown me past the brush pile. I had to troll back and reorient the boat to the brush pile as precisely as I could remember. I did the same retrieve. I watched a bigger bass emerge from the brush, and I was ready when it smacked the lure as violently as the first.

My sunglasses were essential. It was as if they erased the water and I could see everything with perfect clarity.

Again I trolled back, repositioned the boat, repeated the pattern and caught another bass that weighed about 3 pounds.

The pattern unraveled on the fourth pass. Having to troll into the wind to reposition didn't help because the waves slapping the hull of my boat made quite a racket. I looped wide around the brush to minimize the disturbance, but in my mind the damage was already done.

Worse, I was too excited. Even though I worked the lure at the same speed and cadence, my mind was working too fast. I was no longer relaxed and living in the moment. I was anxious and tried to force the moment. That disrupted my connection with the lure, and it disrupted my synchronicity with the fish. I was trying to tell them what I wanted rather than listening to them tell me what they wanted.

I worked the brush piles a few more times, but the moment was lost.

With the sun starting to set, I motored to a low bluff. It's the kind of place I wouldn't be surprised to catch a walleye, but it also looked bassy. I back off about 25 yards and cast the Zoom Tiny lizard. I didn't bring an electronic graph, so I don't know how deep it was. I just know it took a 1/2-ounce weight a few seconds to hit bottom.

Using the trolling motor to manage a slow drift, I methodically worked the lizard down the bluff. It juts out slightly in front of a couple of submerged snags, so I stopped to work that spot thoroughly. I slowly hopped the lizard across the rocky bottom by bobbing my rod tip and the lure felt like it was ascending and descending a series of small ledges. Occasionally a rock offered resistance, and I had to resist setting the hook.

I knew it was the real thing when I felt a quick jolt stab my wrist. I swept the rod around and watched it bend under the weight of a 3 pound largemouth.

When the sun dipped behind the hills, it was over, but the conversation had been most enlightening.

Sports on 02/08/2015

Upcoming Events