Get a perch, straight down.

(This is my friend, Murray. Be sure to notice the perch in his right hand) It was getting kind of embarrassing to pull up to the gas dock in my Ranger bass boat with the fancy fish finder, the electric trolling motor, and all my gear carefully set out just as the pros do it on TV, to watch others pull up with their little tin boats, their Canadian Tire rods and a limit of big bass in a bucket. “How’d you do this morning, Paul?” Sulking in my live well were three barely legal smallmouth that would make a nice lunch if I scrambled some eggs. I’d always loved fishing but somehow never managed to graduate much beyond the sunfish my grandpa taught me how to catch when I was a little guy and any fish would do. So, I’d grin and go about getting the gas tank filled. This would have gone on forever except about twenty years ago, give or take a few, I finally learned the secret of catching big bass from a boy who grew up at the marina, the thirteen year old son of Karen and Mike who have the marina and the little store: “Get a perch, straight down.” Five words of terse wisdom that replace several volumes on the subject of catching bass. This changed my whole approach and I began to routinely haul in lunkers of three – five pounds, along with the occasional big one. Those thirteen inchers I began to refer to as “A nice eating size.” Of course the big ones went back into the water. For the next several years fishing was a refined art of catching the smallest possible perch to catch the largest possible bass. Perch holes were carefully guarded secrets that I would only share with close friends. I fished this way for several years until one day a friend asked me did I realize it was illegal? What’s that, illegal? Yes, technically perch is a game fish and it’s illegal to use a game fish as bait. This threw me into a moral dilemma. I could no longer plead innocence of the rule to the game warden. Besides, everyone on the lake fishes this way; it’s how it’s done around here. What’s he going to do, arrest all the children and their parents out fishing? And when’s the last time a game warden’s been seen around here, anyhow? It doesn’t even make sense. Bass and muskie eat perch, why can’t we feed it to them? The lake is full of perch, it’s choked with the little things. In fact, part of the fun of fishing that way is catching the bait. You’d find a good perch hole, put an inch or so of worm on a little hook and toss it out. In a few minutes you’ve got five or six baits and you’re off to do battle with the bass. And it’s a fun, exciting way to catch them. I used to tie a bass hook to the leader on my fly rod and still-fish on the edge of the weeds. I could feel every flick of the perch’s fins as it moved about, and I could tell when unwelcome company had arrived. There’d be a sharp tug as the bass took the perch in its mouth and I’d have to stifle the impulse to strike because the perch wasn’t actually in the bass’s mouth yet. The bass would swim off with the perch held delicately in its lips and I’d pay out line down the fly rod not wanting the bass to sense that anything was wrong, Then the bass would pause and I’d imagine it sucking the perch into its maw with flaring gill flaps. Then I’d haul hard on the rod and one of two things would happen. The bass would make a magnificent run for it, leaping and boring deep and trying to rub me off on the weeds, and there would be great sport on the long limber rod. Or nothing, because I’d pulled it out of his mouth. I would sit there and feel no bass on the line. I would slowly bring the perch back within sight. Sometimes I’d see the bass, huge, just below the bait following it in and I’d freeze. Then the bass would see me and turn off and sink out of sight. I confess, there was more of the latter than the former. But I ask you, does something this much fun have to be illegal? Can’t they make an exception? No? Well, thanks a lot, spoilsport!