Sam Rayburn Hobie BOS: A Georgia Creek Fisherman Gets to Play on a Legendary Field

Since I was a boy I’ve bass fished and several lakes have always been held a notch above the rest. Several come to mind like Toledo Bend, Lake Lanier, Lake Seminole, Georgia’s Eufala, Champlain and Sam Rayburn.

 

Sam Rayburn….I got the chance to fish the legendary lake this past June. The Hobie BOS had it’s sixth trail stop there and I wasn’t going to miss it.

Preparation started months in advance, YouTube videos, magazine articles and some in depth map study. With a combination of the print and video media I honed in on an area that seemed to dish out a great deal of success and when I pulled up the navionics topo map I saw why. The abundance of offshore structure and contour was remarkable…still, it was a huge patch of water and I’d need actual fishing time to break it down but I was pretty sure I could find fish somewhere in that area. While looking at the maps, one place jumped off the map at me….a small feeder creek called “ Ware Branch”. I actually joked that I had the winning spot picked out because of the name alone… (My last name is Ware) and how awesome it’d be if I won it in Ware Branch.

 

Fast forward to the week prior to the official tournament practice…the lake is ten feet above summer pool and it’s being debated if it’ll be held or postponed. After a long meeting with the Army Corps of Engineers our tournament director A.J. McWhorter came back with exciting news. The tournament was a go AND we’d virtually have the normally congested lake to ourselves. While that was great news the drawback was, all the homework I’d done would have to be thrown out the window. This was going to be an even playing field because of the high water and any past knowledge of the lake would be obsolete.

 

I arrived in Broadus Texas at sunset on the Sunday prior to the tournament and drove to the main bridge across the lake. She was so high that most boats couldn’t pass underneath and water had flooded deep into the woods making for some very tasty looking fish habitat but I decided to stick with my offshore fishing plan. The areas in the eighteen to thirty foot deep range I had marked as possible spots months ago was now over forty feet deep so I did some adjustments and keyed in on areas with structure like tapering points, possible shell beds and grass that at normal pool were ten to twenty feet deep.

 

I spent the first three days on the lower end of the lake and caught large numbers of fish with a few really good ones scattered in but knew that it’d take a higher population of bigger fish to win. The last two days were spent in the original area I had planned to fish.

 The first day I probed around some islands that sat on the main channel…there was one strip of old brush I found in thirty two feet of water that I was dead set on fishing. The wind was horrendous that day and it took a while to finally get my twelve inch Texas rigged worm in the sweet spot. I pulled a three pounder out then I hooked into a giant. Although it jumped at the boat and came unbuttoned I know it would’ve been my personal best. She was a true giant and that gave me the confidence that I was doing the right thing and I certainly needed it.

Last day of practice was spent further back from the main river channel and the day started out with absolutely nothing to brag about… I got suckered into the flooded trees and spent most of the day flipping the newly flooded forest. I eventually hit open water and headed to “Ware Branch”. On Google earth the branch winds its way to the main creek channel through a huge patch of lilly pads, the navionics maps showed the winding channel being ten to fourteen feet deep and the surrounding pads sitting in six to ten feet of water….with the high water that entire area was submerged under an additional ten feet of water. No pads were visible but it definitely looked neat on my electronics. I also noticed there were a lot of submerged hydrilla beds bordering the pads. I spent a long time scanning the entire creek channel and when I reached what would have been the original mouth of the creek which was now in twenty four feet of water I also saw fish, lots of fish! I questioned myself if they were bass and my first four casts produced four bass in the one to three pound range. I had found a motherlode of bass but were there any giants mixed in? Probably around my tenth bite I locked into a big fish that I’d guess was between five and six pounds…luckily she jumped and tossed my lure. I knew I had found my spot…the same spot with my last name, the same spot I had joked about months earlier being the winning spot.

I set out checking similar creek mouths in the area but none had fish and as I was passing “Ol Ware Branch “ temptation got the best of me and I had to make another cast in it. I pulled out my big Texas rigged worm and buried the hook in it to minimize my chances of actually hooking anything and made a cast into what I’d determined to be the “juice”. I could feel the worm coming through the grass and pads then I felt that “thump” we bass fishermen live to feel. I didn’t set the hook, I just kept tension on it and she rocketed straight for the surface, jumped and spit my worm. That fish was atleast six pounds and without a doubt I had my spot. When I say spot, I’m talking and area the size of a tennis court.

That night I spoke with my mom and she asked if I had found a honey hole…I answered yes, we got a kick out of the name of the little creek channel and before I hung up I told her “Mom, if those fish stay there, I’m gonna be hard to beat”. I prayed that night for consistent weather and water conditions and thanked him for planting the seed in me to fish.

 

Day one: I launched and reached the spot with only minutes until official lines in. Within an hour I had a limit and the rest of the day until eleven thirty was me culling little by little to reach an 86” limit. I didn’t have any 4G so I couldn’t submit my fish but my wife stayed in contact with me….I’d catch a fish and send her the measurements via text message…she finally told me around eleven thirty, “You need a kicker, one really good fish and you’ll take the lead”. Shortly after that a rain shower with some wind blew through and I tossed a black and blue Picasso Shockblade Pro out over those deep submerged pads and it got absolutely hammered. After a really good fight I landed my kicker, 22.50” in all her glory. When you catch a significant fish like that AND it puts you in the lead at a tournament stacked with hammers…you yell, NO…YOU LET OUT A YAWL!!!...and that’s exactly what I did. I finished day 1 with 93.75” and in the lead.

 

I had to leave thirty minutes early from that spot, load up, drive fifteen miles to the top of a hill where there was sufficient 4G service and upload my 5 biggest fish into the TourneyX app. I’ve felt pressure to catch up in a big tournament but never this type of pressure. I had to maintain and I was pretty sure there were enough fish left to keep it up. The calls and texts I received that night were humbling but I knew I still had a lot of work to do.

 

Day two: I made it to my area right at lines in but they weren’t liking my texas rigged 7” finesse worm that had caught 90% of my day 1 fish but a big texas rigged 10” "U" tail did the trick, I caught a lot of fish on that worm and a few more on a 4.25” skinny dipper on an owner flashy swimmer, I just couldn’t get a big bite, all of the fish were between 15 and 17 inches. My mind kept telling me to load up and hit that brushpile I had hooked the monster on in practice but my gut wouldn’t let me leave fish to find fish. I beat the hell out of that area and then some but it just wasn’t meant to be. On the way back to my launch I reflected on the day and smiled….I had fished 100 percent clean, I caught what bit and didn’t lose anything that would’ve helped me climb the leaderboard. I had sent my fish measurements periodically to my wife throughout the day but I had no idea where I stood or exactly what my total was. I made it to the top of the hill and entered my 5 biggest bass to TourneyX then called my wife. She said I should be in 2nd if no one upgraded after the lines out deadline. Note: they turn off the leaderboard at 2pm on day 2 to build anticipation for the awards ceremony.

 

I stopped in Zavalla Texas to grab a BBQ sandwich and unwind when I got the text from Hobie stating I was in the top 10 and was invited to the awards ceremony. That text was music to my ears and I eagerly drove to the weigh in. I parked at the tournament location, got out and was walking across the parking lot when I saw a woman with two teenage boys….”Lord that woman looks just like Meredith Henderson “ I thought, then I saw Clint….my buddy and his family had made a detour from their trip to the Bassmaster Classic being held in Fort Worth to our awards ceremony. You don’t know how happy that made me, that’s one of the happiest moments I’ve had while fishing these tournament trails.

 

I went over my day with Clint and his boys and told him I guessed I was below 4th place….even though my wife was adamant that I was in 2nd.

 

A.J. called 4th place….it wasn’t me. That meant I was top 3 AND qualified for the Hobie Tournament of Champions to be held at Georgia’s Lake Eufala later in November. He called Caleb Helbig at 3rd place and wow what a feeling I had. Sure enough, Amber was spot on, Bryan Scarberry had one hell of a day to take the lead and I was happy to take 2nd, a good chunk of change, a cool trophy and a chance to compete in the Tournament of Champions, the most prestigious championship in kayak fishing.

 

I’ve been traveling and fishing these tournaments since 2014, I’ve learned an enormous amount about fishing, people, regional cuisine, where to camp, where not to camp, alligators, other critters and the differences in fun fishing and competition fishing. There’s similarities but there’s also huge differences. Up until this day I had only earned one national win and a 4th place in another national tournament but I never gave up and I won’t. If someone is on the fence about entering a national tournament, don’t be intimidated by what you think you’re going up against. Pay your entry and get busy on your homework. I doubt you’ll be as lucky as I was with the 2nd best spot of the tournament bearing your last name but you’ll be surprised how after a few tournaments under your belt, you’ll feel the groove and everything will slow down, allow you to grasp it then prepare you for success. 

 

I’ve always just been a creek chub fisherman from Silver Creek Georgia but that JUST might be all I need to be. We’ll see how that works out at the Hobie BOS on Toledo Bend in February 2022. Until then stay tuned….

 

Thank God for Little Plastic Boats!

Change is inevitable...as soon as you think you've figured it out it'll change...never fails.

The past couple of weeks the weather hasn't been pleasant...It's been cold, windy and wet. Believe it or not for a fisherman there is one thing that was positive about it...the weather and the water temperature were consistent. The fish had to eat and once I found them, they were there everyday in the same area, doing the same thing. Although I was freezing my tail off, soaking wet and beat down by the wind, I was catching fish. Something I chalk up as a minor success towards my preparation for the KBF tournament.

  I have fished a particular lake for the past 5 days and I covered days 1,2 and 3 in the last blog but day 4 a friend of mine from Atlanta came up to fish the morning with me. We went out to where I'd caught a couple of good fish and set up shop. After  a few of hours and about 4 dinks (dinks are very small Bass) I caught a 22" largemouth that exceeded 6 pounds. On our way back to shore my friend picked up a nice 5lb fish...but this fish was a good bit shallower than any of the rest I had caught through the week....Was this a hint as to a change in pattern or was she just shallower for no good reason? These are the questions I and I assume  other fishermen ask themselves when trying to pattern a lake. On that particular day the sun was out and the fish was caught on the windward side of the lake...water temp was about 2 degrees more at 46 -47°. The fish was in 4' of water and every fish I'd caught previously were located 100 yards away in the 8-10 foot range, they all hit the same bait though.  The problem and it is a big problem...I only started wondering about the why's and where's of that fish today...because I only caught dinks today in the 8-10' water... I have to be proactive and ask myself these questions on the fly.

This morning I fished all over the lake's 8-10' sections and completely ruled out that water. Today's conditions were warmer, cloudy with a good wind but the water temp was 50 and in some places 51. Is that a big enough difference in conditions to change the pattern? I believe so. I can't fish tomorrow as a matter of fact,  it'll be Friday before I'm on the water again but if I were going tomorrow I'd throw a spinner bait or small swim bait in the shallower 3-6' sections of water.
In the past two weeks (10 days fishing) I've caught 6 fish weighing from 5-8lbs. Not bad and to be honest the best string of bass fishing that I've ever had but isn't good enough because...
• although I'm having fun...I'm preparing for a tournament. The biggest tournament I've ever had a chance to compete in and only on one of those days did I have a respectable limit.
• I could've caught more if I would've thought quicker and noticed a few subtle or not so subtle clues.
• I found that a lot of today I was making blind casts on covered ground.
Why?...things changed and I didn't.

  So, here is the scenario... I get up to Kentucky lake and find fish early in the week but a cold front moves in and changes everything  causing thevfish to leave or change their feeding habits on day 1 of the tournament. What do i do?...The easy answer is to scrap the plan I had and go to deeper or different water. The problem is my confidence level that I had gained from the hypothetical fish I'd caught earlier in the week is now a hindrance. Confidence is a great thing to have most of the time but when it's in a plan that was once working but no longer is will definitely lead to disaster if I handle it like I did today. I would've spent most of, if not all of the day trying to salvage what I had confidence in. The end result would be the age old excuse...they weren't biting. Although sometimes, they really aren't biting, I can not be sentimental when it comes to my confidence. To use some age old adages, I have to read the writing on the wall and I can't beat a dead horse. I'm seeing more now than ever before that this is a game of patterns...that will end, changes that will happen...when you least expect it and patience that you'll have to throw out the window sometimes so you can make something happen.

Easy as pie...yea right!

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and I'd really love to read your thoughts about my blog, your general location and any suggestions. Peace

MAVERICK

mav·er·ick  (măv′ər-ĭk, măv′rĭk)
n.
1. A person who shows independence of thought and action, especially by refusing to adhere to the policies of a group to which he or she belongs.

Kayak fishing...seems like a vanilla activity. Probably reserved as a stepping stone for a person on their way to buying a bass boat or a cool Hells Bay skiff. Truth is, most Kayak Anglers I know hate a motor and would sell a motor boat if given one.

This is more than a sport or a hobby. Just going fishing is boring to most of 'em. It's the added challenge of fighting the wind, strategically maneuvering so your drift gets you on the exact line to fish an area. It's feeling the water as it sprays in your face at every paddle stroke. It's the challenge of handling a paddle with four fishing rods and 6 boxes of tackle from a fixed position in a space the size of a love seat...all while making a cast every few seconds. The challenge, the cold, the complete exposure to the elements...the drive to catch that fish makes them what they are...Mavericks...It's more than a hobby.

       
   For Those About to Rock...

I feared getting old when I was a young boy. Reading the newspaper, napping and cutting grass was not what I looked forward to doing, then there was the dread of croaking. I said I’d never grow up and I believe, so far, I’ve been pretty successful
I have always been an imaginative soul, never bored and always had something to occupy my mind. Whether it be fishing, hunting, exploring, music, surfing and the list goes on (yes, I live in the foothills of the Appalacians and I’ve owned three different surfboards) I have always had fun or knew what I needed to have fun. As a teenager I took a left turn and turned to alcohol on many occasions to have fun which eventually caught up to me about 12 years ago with a not so fun period of my life. Hey, I like hotdogs and orange koolaid but I’d rather partake in said meal at my house…not the big house.

So, now I’m almost 50. I’m getting old and the fear I had about aging was to much surprise...a hoax. My imagination is still there but my interests are not as broad. I only kayak fish and I’m still a music junkie. I’m 49 and still love rock music as loud as my car stereo will go and I fish a lot. I work a part time 60 hour a week job at the local paper mill that pays the bills and a full time job with no pay…fishing. I don’t read the news paper and I pay the kid next door to cut the grass.

When you hear that getting old is a bad thing, I call bull$##t. I have more fun now than I ever had in my teens or twenties and my recipe is a combination of that imagination, passion, some how keeping a working amount of that childhood innocence and an overly patient wife, which I am blessed to have.

We only have so many heartbeats in the old ticker and my plan is to be doing what I love and not what I loathe when that last one finishes.

For those approaching the golden age... Prepare to rock. Peace and thank God for little plastic boats.

Maybe the Best Turkey Hunt Ever

 

  His parents are some of my closest friends and there was a connection with this boy that I had that was different...I saw a bit of myself when I was that age. He was obsessed with the outdoors and I can relate with anyone on that level regardless of age. I told his dad I'd take him and they met me at my hunting club's gate, much like other people would drop their kid off at baseball practice.

  At sunrise we set up on an oak flat after locating 3 gobblers on the roost. They were a couple hundred yards away and gobbling at my calls. We heard em fly down off of the roost then they were quiet. Assuming they were coming to us we got ready...an hour later we heard hens and I knew our plan was ruined(for anyone that doesn't turkey hunt, the Hunter imitates a hen and the Tom comes to find a girlfriend. Mix in a real hen calling and its hard to compete...I'm not that good to compete with a live hen) I told chase we'll ease up on that ridge and set up. My idea was a Jake(young male turkey) may've be left out of the fun and we could trick him. We crept up through a thicket and were on the spine of the ridge. To our left was an extremely steep 75yd drop to some backwaters of the Coosa river, to our right was the edge of a thicket and the spine we were on and left side had large hardwoods growing.

   Me and Chase were talking about our new plan when I noticed movement down the spine about 100yds, it was 2 turkeys, we sat down next to the nearest tree. Chase was a couple yards in front of me and I started a yelping sequence on my slate call. I honestly didn't know if they were hens or toms until they turned towards us. We watched them strut and jocky for the lead all the way down that spine . One had a 5-6" beard and the other was "the man". At 14yds the big one strutted and when he dropped out of his strut....Boom!!! Chase's little 20gauge turned that turkey over on his back. He jumped back up and started running to our left (towards the steep hill and water) and took flight. 2 more shots from Chase's gun and the turkey disappeared over the edge. I remember Chase yelling "He's getting away!!!" I thought, "Not if I can help it", as I started over the edge of that hill at a full sprint. The big Tom was rolling down the hill a ways in front of me and ended up landing in the water. I didn't slow down and lept into the backwaters to grab his bird. Standing there in knee deep water admiring this creature, completely overwhelmed with adrenaline I hear,(pardon the profanity) HOLY SHIT!!!! To my left about 50 yards away is a bass boat. The fisherman said he wished he had that on video...I can only imagine all that happened from his point of view. I told the fisherman an 11 year old boy up on the ridge had killed it and hurried back up to Chase. I watched a boy truly appreciative of his trophy. 11 3/4" beard 1 1/4 spurs and big. What a hunt! What a hunt! WHAT A HUNT! ...Also, somehow I broke a finger on my trip down that hill. I can't imagine a more eventful hunt by myself but being able to share the day with a young'un made it remarkable.

Fisherman First Aid

When I arrived at the ramp today my buddy Jesse was waiting on me. He had caught a nice bass and when he tried to lip the fish it went wild and hooked Jesse in the thrashing episode... buried a #4 gama treble up to the bend. He successfully released the fish, cut the O ring and had been unsuccessfully working on the hook for the better part of an hour with his pliers. He asked if I could help.

I was a boy scout from age 7 until 17 and I had read the handbook cover to cover numerous times. The line yank hook removal technique had always interested me. It looks like it’d be pretty dang painful. This technique requires only one tool…a length of fishing line. Odds are if you’re thinking about removing a hook from you or your buddy, some line is within arms reach from you.  I like to get a piece of braid about three feet long and double it up. Place the double line behind the hook and run the two tag ends through the loop on the other end and have the victim press down on the eye of the hook as hard as they can stand. Slide the loose slip knot down the hook as close to the skin as possible and tighten up on it. I like to wrap the line around my hand…make sure that the victim is pressing on the hook eye, this is very important. Next I tell them I’m going to count to three but before I finish saying the word “one” I yank that string like I own it, as quick and hard as I can. This will only work on rigid body parts…fingers, hand, feet, leg, scalp etc. If the hook is in the nose, ear lobe, lip etc. It’s best to push the hook all the way through and cut the hook point with barb off with your pliers then remove the hook the way it went in, If it’s in the eye…take a picture, post it on Facebook and take the unlucky soul to the hospital.

The hook came out of Jesse’s finger in text book fashion, he put some Neosporin on the wound and fish the rest of the day.

I’ve done this three times in my lifetime…two of them this year and none of the victims said they actually felt any pain. Familiarize yourself with this technique because it can save a trip to the hospital and get you back on the water quickly.

Introduction..."The Creek Chubb Chronicles"

 

  What I enjoy most about kayak fishing is the adventure that goes along with targeting a particular type of fish, making a plan and then pursuing it. In the coming months I invite you to join me as I seek out my personal best in several species of fish. I'll be limiting myself to kayak fishing totally public water and no use of a guide. Public in my book is defined as state or federally owned or managed water with a minimal parking fee…normally $5. All of these trips will be in a days drive from my home.

  A rough rundown of my search would be:

Largemouth Bass – my largest to date is 24” long caught from Rocky Mountain Public Fishing Area.

Smallmouth Bass – my pb is 19” from lake Blueridge. This is one of the few fish that I’ll have to travel for. Pickwick Lake will be my first choice to try.

Spotted Bass – my pb is 21” from the Coosa River. I have a world class lake within 2 hours drive that’s rumored to hold spots to 10lbs…Lake Burton. I’m also going to double up on this one by going after a PB river spot in the Coosa River Basin.

Shoal bass – my current pb is a dismal 17” and The Ocmulgee river will be where focus my efforts.

Striped bass – my pb is 28” and the Etowah River will be the place.

I'd also like a rematch with a tarpon of any size. 

  I think this will first and foremost be fun, secondly I hope it to be educational for me as well as with the reader. I’ve got a year to do it and I’ll write about it shortly after I complete one. 

The name of this series will be “The Creek Chubb Chronicles”. This name is significant because as a kid I religiously chased these little undesirable trash fish in several creeks around my hometown. With a cheap Zebco 202 on a solid fiberglass rod and a couple pieces of bread as bait I was happy catching these little fish but I dreamed of one day chasing the biggest fish around. Tuesday I start the trek. I hope you’ll follow along. Peace