Do you remember your best bass-fishing day ever? Perhaps it was toss-up between a few.
What about those times makes them stand out in your mind? The number of fish you caught? Their size? Maybe it was the adventure aspect of trying a new lake. Perhaps it was an exotic vacation to "bass heaven," enhanced by balmy temps that drove away the winter blahs. Maybe it was just good times with friends or the memory of a loved one.
In any case, good fishing likely contributed to the experience; but just how vital was it to the whole equation? What if a destination nearly guaranteed supernatural bass fishing? Would that aid in your decision to travel there, or almost take away from it?
Such questions criss-crossed my mind endlessly as I watched a TV show highlighting the newly famed Tecomate La Perla Ranch in Texas. Many of you likely watched the same program; host Mark Zona nearly frothing at the mouth and falling out of the boat while hauling lunker after lunker aboard. Good Lord, it looked like fun!
In the end, Zona caps off the trip with what appears to be a double-digit monster wrestled aboard after short-string jumps that were epically caught on camera. What a mule!
But did it count?
To back up a bit, it’s important to understand the work that went into producing that lunker.
La Perla Ranch is a jewel of famed private-land wildlife manager Dr. Gary Schwarz, who's likely best known for his work in raising trophy deer through food and habitat management. Little is publicized about the fact that Schwarz and partners were also responsible or developing the first conservation easement ever in Texas to conserve wildlife habitat.
One of Schwarz’s new projects is developing trophy bass fisheries. Through this venture, he’s laid claim to what is likely one of the best fisheries in the country, a series of ponds containing habitat and food designed specifically to produce trophy bass. Zona’s show, filmed there recently, illustrated how incredibly successful the approach has been.
Schwarz is interviewed during the episode, stating that his major desire for creating such a paradise was simply to give anglers their best chance at the bass fishing experience of a lifetime. As his eyes lit up on camera, you could see it in his expression: Schwarz is incredibly passionate about making these dreams come true.
My mind began to wonder. What about the mega-deer being produced on private land? When I watch a TV show host “harvest” a huge 14-pointer on a piece of ground I know I’ll never gain access to, it kind of takes away from it.
And I’ve been on a few spectacular duck hunts on big tracts of private ground in the best areas of the country; places where my buddies will never go. When they ask how the hunting was, I give them numbers, but the details always come with a disclaimer. You see, when huge flocks of mallards are landing all around you at 20 feet, running up the score isn’t all that tough.
So why should bass be different?
What’s a better accomplishment: taking a gnarly swamp-buck off of public ground after a week’s worth of scouting, or shooting a trophy out of a heated blind an hour after stepping off a plane?
Are a couple ducks at the local public-draw hunt better than a 30-second limit in the best private flooded timber in Arkansas?
Does an 8-pounder at Eufaula trump a 12-pounder at La Perla?
The enjoyment factor is all in the eyes of the beholder, I imagine. What I like about fishing isn’t necessarily the same thing you do. I’ve shared boats with fellow anglers who were happy to just be outdoors and on the water. Really, I think their enjoyment level was truly the same whether they caught fish or not. I’ve also fished with anglers who feel a good day is measured solely in the total number of fish caught, how quickly they “limited out," or by catching a trophy fish.
While most of us fit in the middle of these extremes, none of our viewpoints are entirely right. But there may need to be more definitive lines drawn should a fish of truly legendary proportions come to the forefront.
What if Schwarz’s private CandyLand produces a 23-pound bass? Realistically, it’s probably equally possible that private waters hold the same potential to do so as public in today’s day and age. Will it count?
We’ve seen this opinion hashed out time and again here at BassFan and all across the web. Usually, the strongest viewpoints are those expressed by constituents who claim only “public” water can lay claim to record fish. But, for that opinion, I question: What constitutes public water? It may not be as cut and dried as you think.
How about lakes open only to a housing or golf community, or the somewhat-private lakes at a vacation resort like Disney World; public or private in terms of a record? Anyone can fish there, as long as they pay.
What about public lakes that limit the number of users, as some do out West. Anyone can sign up to obtain a permit, or wait in line at the gate in the morning, but the number of anglers who can fish is severely limited – well below the number who desire to do so. Is that lake truly “public” in the case of a record fish?
What if the lake managers held a drawing to allow only 100 anglers, chosen from the general public, to fish a lunker pit? What if it were 50 fishermen, or 10? What if it were one lucky basser? Is that still a “public lake?" Where’s the cut-off?
The IGFA rules for record-class fish state that: “No applications will be accepted for fish caught in hatchery waters, sanctuaries or small bodies of water that are stocked with fish for commercial purposes. The intent of this rule shall prevail and IGFA retains the right to determine its applicability on a case by case basis.”
So what does this mean? I know the intent of “commercial” is to cover, say, a fish factory, but should there be a line drawn between waters designed and managed for bass on a commercial (paid guides) basis vs. a recreational opportunity?
Sorry for stirring the pot, but I see this as problem that could arise after it’s too late. Perhaps it never will. But, whether it’s in the case of bass, bucks or ducks, someone will always be pushing the envelope. Perhaps we need to stop and question why.
I remember one of my best days. As a 12 year-old kid, I had just bought my first Rat-L-Trap. The bass in the farm pond next door had never seen, or more importantly heard, such a device. Nowadays, I’m not sure how many I caught on successive casts; I may have known for a while after. And I never got a weight on the biggest.
But I’ll never forget those bone-jarring strikes and the anticipation of the next cast.
(Joe Balog is the often outspoken owner of Millennium Promotions, Inc., an agency operating in the fishing and hunting industries. A former Bassmaster Open and EverStart Championship winner, he's best known for his big-water innovations and hardcore fishing style. He's a popular seminar speaker, product designer and author, and is considered one of the most influential smallmouth fishermen of modern times.)
