I continue to be impressed with material coming out of the Whitefish Press. This small publishing house sort of reminds me of Miramax Films in its early days, because it publishes content no one else will touch. There's not a big market for titles like The Art of Hand-Crafting Fly Fishing Reels or A Conversation with Oscar Kovalovsky: Last of the Great 20th Century Reel Makers.
But as the most recent age of freshwater fishing comes to a close – the era that began with the reservoir boom of the '50s and '60s – and its voices and innovators pass away with alarming regularity, the Whitefish Press has in part dedicated itself to the preservation of stories and timelines from this golden era.
Last fall, Whitefish published two new books of particular interest to BassFans. The first, by Bill Baab, is an exhaustive look at world-record holder George Perry – his personal life and his record catch. It was Baab who made a connection between the Perry family and the alleged photo of the record that surfaced several years ago.
The other, titled An Impossible Cast (paperback, $19.95), is a biography of Glen Andrews – perhaps the best bass angler most people have never heard of.
Andrews' credentials stand on their own, but praise from luminaries like Ray Scott, Bill Dance, Jerry McKinnis, Bobby Murray and many others paint Andrews as one of the most instinctive and gifted bass anglers in the history of the sport.
And there's a mystique around Andrews, because at the peak of his tournament success, he hung up his rod and walked away. Soon after, anglers like Dance, Roland Martin, the Lindners, McKinnis and Scott struck gold in the bass world. But Andrews shared none of it, and receded into obscurity to become a family man.
An Impossible Cast is penned by Andrews' son, D. Shane, along with help from writer Jeremy Miller. And through his son, we get a unique look at the struggles Andrews faced as he was forced to choose between a career in fishing (which at the time paid little to nothing) and a life at home with loved ones.
At the same time, D. Shane presents an inside look at the growth of bass angling, within an epicenter, at a critical juncture in time. In the early- to mid-'60s, advancements in freshwater fishing occurred in a north-south-east-west "cross" – lines that stretched down from Minnesota into the Ozarks and Alabama, as well as across the mid-South.
And the Ozarks in particular was the site of rapid progression both in bass angling, as well as bait development and boat manufacturing.
Andrews, who guided on new lakes like Bull Shoals and Table Rock, was right in the heart of it.
So too, he was a critical competitor in Hy Peskin's World Series of Fishing – he was runner-up in '62 and '63, and won it the following 2 years. Modern tournament angling didn't begin with BASS – it began with Hy Peskin – and Andrews dominated that early era.
An Impossible Cast is certainly, at its core, a very important work in terms of fishing history. The day-by-day telling of World Series competition, the flavor and characters of the Ozarks guiding scene, the struggle to earn a living from guide fees and tackle development – Andrews was one of the first to live it all.
The prose itself is largely rough and unpolished, with lots of clunky grammar. And I'm told there are some minor inaccuracies with the World Series segments.
None of that, however, takes away from the importance of the book and my hearty recommendation to purchase and read it.
Here's hoping the Whitefish Press continues to take risks and publish content so vital to the sport's legacy.
For more information about the book, or to order, visit WhitefishPress.com.
