Perhaps if I mentioned how dry it is, you will scratch your head wondering what I am thinking as the rain is pouring from your rooftop. Maybe, if I say it hasn’t rained in a month of Sundays, the heavens will have opened up dumping bucket loads of pure, fresh water to the parched earth. Truthfully, I can’t remember the last time we received significant rainfall. I know practically everyone is in dire need of water, but this drought has been just what the doctor ordered while attempting to complete the cotton harvest.
Well, the bales are tightly wrapped, and it wouldn’t bother me in the least if it rained every day now. I know, be careful what you ask for, but the cattlemen need the moisture for winter grazing, and we need it now to activate herbicides for next season’s crop. All the hunter’s food plots look like the Mojave Desert but remember, one extreme usually follows another, so a wet spell may be in the works.
A couple of weeks ago, I was surrounded by water but never got wet. The sky was crystal clear, and a slight north breeze called for a light jacket. By now, you have probably figured out that I was in a boat. It may be too dry for deer and squirrel hunting, but conditions are perfect to fill the ice box with fresh crappie.
Sam and I met Hayden Jeffries at the landing around 8 a.m. By 8:15, the first slab was in the cooler. It was fast and furious for the first hour and it looked like we would have limits before 10 o’clock. Then, just like turning the light switch off, so did they. Crappie can be finicky creatures. You can’t make them bite, but when they’re ready to eat, you better be there to take advantage of the opportunity. We trolled around until Hayden had enough and we changed tactics. The small cooler he brought was full of minnows.
We swapped from jigs to live critters, and the light switch came back on. For the next hour or so it was steady with the net being called upon every five minutes or so. I kept count. Then as before, the bite slowed again. There are no explanations as to why the fish start and stop biting. I guess that’s why it’s called “fishing” and not “catching.”
I grew up bream and bass fishing with my dad. Additionally, we would set trot lines in the borrow pits off the Mississippi River. Pop never did crappie fish and I’m not really sure why he never pursued this wonderful gamefish. Maybe it was because the spawn coincides with spring turkey season and nothing was going to take him away from the dogwood bloom and the spine-tingling gobble that shatters the stillness of the dawn. I took every step with him from the time I was able to walk. If he was in the woods, I would be right behind him. If he was dropping crickets into a bream bed, I would be sitting in the boat next to him.
Since I wasn’t exposed to fishing for white perch, I was never “bitten” by the bug. Occasionally, I would catch one below the spillway while we were out for spring break. Hardly a day went by during spring break that my buddies and I weren’t fishing. If the water was high, I may have caught more than one or two. Granted, many of those spillway slabs were hooked in the fin and brought to the rocks, but that is a story for another article down the road. I’m sure you can figure that one out.
Back in the day, I could hold my own with a bass rod. I had several mentors besides my dad who allowed me in their bass boats when I was in high school. Mr. Gene Barlow was a pharmacist who my dad called on while employed by A.H Robins. They became very good friends and began hunting and fishing with each other. Mr. Gene would take me all over Ross Barnett, from the upper lake to the dam, and we would bass fish. He was good, and I was a willing pupil.
I remember catching a crappie on a crankbait one day. I think the lure was called a “Big O.” I didn’t even know what I had caught until he told me what it was. Of course, it went into the live well with the rest of our catch. Through Mr. Gene I met other anglers. Jerry Babin, Mike Babin, Rick Denson and others helped me along with my bass fishing skills, but no one even mentioned crappie fishing.
I remember fishing below the spillway on many occasions. Believe it or not, I fished for largemouth bass, and it used to be excellent fishing along those rocks. It probably still is. In those turbulent waters, I would pitch a devil’s horse, and it produced a lot of heavy stringers back in the day. You read correctly, a devil’s horse, which is a topwater lure. Even in the frothy waters of the spillway, it worked great. It was on the rip rap of the spillway that I met Mr. Pete Ponds and his son Bob. They were excellent bass fishermen, and I fished next to them many times. In addition to being good fishermen, they also made lures.
Have you ever heard of a “skipper shad?” Mr. Pete invented this lure, which is a piece of lead, slightly curved, that will slide up and down your line resembling that of a shad. A treble hook tied to the end of the line is the business end of the lure. A similar bait for comparison is the “Lil George.” I’ll let you do your research on these lures. Mr. Ponds and Bob would give me some of their lures as I fished next to them. They taught me a lot and when I got hung in the rocks, they would just smile and hand me another lure. In fact, I saw Bob back in the summer and told him this story. I asked about his dad, and he said he’s still fishing. Great memories were made while fishing with them. Now, back to the crappie.
By noon, we had our limit. We visited on the way back to the landing and told stories of past fishing trips. Before we parted ways, we all agreed on more excursions together in the future. They can’t get here soon enough for me.
The next evening, I got the grease hot and fried some of those fresh filets. Words can’t express how tasty fresh crappie are. Throw some hushpuppies and coleslaw in the mix, and you have a meal fit for a king. Whether you refer to these fish as crappie or white perch, this is a wonderful time of year to try your luck. They’re feeding on shad to fatten up for the winter and prepare for next spring’s spawn. Believe me when I tell you, the bite is on. Thank you, Hayden, for your expertise. Sam and I always enjoy sharing the boat with you. We can’t wait to go with you again.
Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
