The Mighty Potomac
A Lesson in Respect
by Charles Stuart
My
first tournament of the 1999 season took me to the
Potomac River. Located between Maryland and Virginia, the Potomac
River is without doubt one of the premiere fishing locations on
the eastern seaboard. River fishing for bass is tough. So
many factors play a role in the presentation, location and color
selection. The Susquehanna River in Maryland, the St. Lawrence
River on the US and Canadian border and the St. Johns River in
Florida have left me with physical and mental scars, including
memories of lost fish, lost opportunity, lost equipment and a
several close, personal looks at Mother Natures awesome power.
The Potomac this day would be no exception.
With a
stalled storm over the Atlantic Ocean, wind and high
tides caused havoc for the fishermen. During official tournament
practice on Saturday, I had damaged my boat in only 20 minutes of
battling the waves and wind. I was now a non-boater. Add to that
the prospect of bad weather for the following day and I began
wondering if it could get any worse. Sunday morning showed no
promise of change as we waited patiently for the start of the
tournament. I watched as 200 boats were rocked from side to side
by turbulence. How rough would it be I wondered, when we took off
for Nanjamoy Creek (normally a 40 minute run). When our number
(boat 117) was finally called, we moved out into the main river
channel. Almost immediately, waves hit us from both sides as we
pushed southward on our journey. As each wave would hit, we were
thrown upwards by the force of the water, only to come crashing
downward into our seat. The force of impact sends a jarring pain,
searing through the spine and into the skull like a kick from a
steel boot, but you just keep going. Suddenly and without
warning, a large wave appeared in our path. It was too late to
turn and too late to avoid.
We hit
the wave full force and watched helplessly as the
electronics located at the bow the boat were ripped from the
mounting and slid along the flat casting platform towards us. As
we pressed on, equipment straps began to give way and rods
bounced towards me. Rob, who was driving the boat, battled with
cross winds and waves with each passing moment. The next large
wave that hit us ripped the electronics and windshield from its
bolted mount in front of Rob's face. How he was not injured still
remains a mystery to me. We were now without depth, temperature
or location electronics. With no shoreline in sight and the waves
continually beating us from all sides, we had no choice but to
proceed.
After
what seemed like an eternity, (one hour and 40
minutes) we reached our destination. Gathering our thoughts and
equipment, we began fishing. The creek provided us with some
shelter from the wind and current and soon the journey seems a
distant memory. (Fishing can do that!). The size limit for the
Potomac is 15 inches. That is a two-pound plus fish, so catching
them to size proved a daunting task. Between us, we caught and
released forty fish in the 13 and 14-inch size range. Rob finally
caught the only keeper a 15-inch fish but we were now facing an
outgoing tide that bought the fishing to an abrupt halt. We
searched for a few more fish in vain and decided we should begin
our journey back to the launch site and weigh in the only legal
fish of the day. We tried to be optimistic about the journey
back, hoping that the wind would be at our backs and that the
turbulence has in someway subsided.
How
wrong we were! Once we left the bay, the wind lifted
us into the raging river system once again. Pressing onward, we
hit large waves similar to those we had seen in the morning. The
trolling motor on the bow was ripped from its "gator
mount" and plunged into the water causing a large spray to
cover us both from head to toe. Rob cut the engine and I tied the
motor down to secure it and protect us both from the possibility
of it breaking free and hitting us full in the face, (A trolling
motor weighs approximately 40 pounds. With a gator mount, that is
increased to near 70 pounds) not a pleasant event! As we moved
on, we began to notice water coming into the lower deck area
around our feet. Rob turned on the bilge only to find that the
unit had failed.
Now we
were beginning to fill with water and still had
several miles to go before reaching safety. After almost two
hours, we finally pulled into Mattawoman Creek opposite the
launch site. Here we tried to find out what was wrong with the
bilge, but with so much water in the boat, there was little we
could do. With time
almost run out, we had to make a final crossing of the river at
one of the widest points. When Rob tried to get the boat on
plane, we became lower in the water at the rear of the boat. The
only solution was for me to sit on the bow and counterbalance the
boat so that we could attain enough speed. I had to perform this
function twice before we got back to shore.
Just
when we thought it could not get any worse, the wind
picked up again and began rocking the boats tied to the moorings.
We could not prevent the boat from being pounded into the dock
and other vessels tied close by. So great was the force of the
wind that the boat cleats were ripped from the bodywork. Rob went
for the truck and trailer and I took the boat out from the area
and moved along the shoreline where some other fishermen had tied
their boats. Throwing a line to the shore, the boat was
"secured" and I waited for the trailer to be reversed
onto the ramp to remove the boat from the water. While waiting, I
timed the water coming into the boat as around an inch every five
minutes. We had just made it back!
By the
time we got the boat out of the water, the lower deck
area was full. As we raised the boat onto the trailer, Rob turned
to me and asked, "have you ever had worse" to which I
replied yes I had. (I will tell you that story another day) But I
also added that today was a good day! "A good day",
said Rob, "Why is that?" I replied today was a good day
because we made it back to the dock. "So what's a bad
day?"………… I replied, Do I really need to tell you
that !!!!!!!!!!!!
| Author Information.
 Charles
Stuart is a pro angler, journalist and NY State Guide who fishes
the B.A.S.S., RED MAN, FOXWOODS and the ABC Tours in the
Northeast. Born and educated in England, Charles fished
professionally in England when he lived there. Charles has now
lived on Long Island, NY for over 15 years. He's fished most
lakes, rivers, streams and ponds on the island. He has fished
from the Canadian border to Florida in search of largemouth and
smallmouth bass.
One of Charle's
objectives is to use the knowledge he has gained to teach young
fishermen and women the joy of the sport and the art of
"catching". Charles feels that, unlike other sports,
all members of the family can enjoy fishing together. To Charles,
fishing is a sport that does not place pressure on a child to
succeed, thereby building the child's confidence and self-esteem.
Charles is sponsored by
Bullet Weights, G.Loomis, Budz Fishin Wayz, Gamakatsu, Lake Hawk,
Chevy Trucks, Hawg-ly Lures, Power Resources cranking &
trolling motor batteries, Uncle Josh, Ike-Con Fishing Tackle,
Snap-Set Spinnerbaits, Map-Trap, and Stamina Components.
You can email Charles
at LIFisher@aol.com
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