I was living in the great state of Tennessee back in the late 70's and early 80's and, being financially challenged, my fishing was done from the big dirt boat (the bank). I had parked the USS ( Pontiac) Catalina up by the dumpster with suitable distance so no one would mistake the two, and was trudging down the causeway when I was approached by a young man who said "I'm headed to the baitstore- the smallmouth are tearing it up!" and he ran off. I ran off,too, towards the rip- rap mayhem that revealed not only a large school of smallmouth, but another school of rockfish, as we called them in the day, was herding a giant school of frantic shad into the rocks.
The shad were so afraid that they were beaching themselves on the rocks. Unfortunately, the grade of the rock was such that it proved impossible to catch or retrieve them. Not to mention, my knees were rattling so bad with striper fever that I was doing good to tie on a hook. Now, I learned quickly that tossing a sinker and an aberdeen hook tipped with a minnow would not catch one of these smallmouth. Only a sinkerless hook would fool them into hitting my bait, which really limited my cast. I did catch several 1.5-2.5 pound fish before it all shutdown. I must say, while the school of bronzebacks swimming around was amazing, the striper, breaking the water with their backs, two or three abreast was like a National Geographic special! It was a sight to behold and, if I could have remained calm I would have caught more fish. But, in those days, that was as much fun as coming up on a turned over chicken truck!
