As we have many times in the past few years when we need fillets quickly for a weekend fish fry, my partner and I hooked up the boat and headed to Calling Panther Lake near Crystal Springs Wednesday (Sept. 19).
The 500-acre Mississippi Department of Wildlife, Fisheries and Parks lake didn’t let us down. Using spinning gear, 8-pound fluorocarbon leader off 10-pound braid, and drop shot worms, we quickly started picking off our targets — undersized bass that are in great number in Panther.
So much so that MDWFP biologists urge fishermen to take as many as they want, up to 30 apiece a day, of bass under 20 inches.
Seriously, the regulations allow a daily creel limit of 30 bass per day, only one of which can exceed 20 inches.
Feeling that to be a little generous, we set our limits at anything under 15 inches, and boy, is that a good number.
In a little under three hours, we put 51 in the ice chest, most of them 12 and 13 inches. We released a bunch between 14 and 20. It isn’t always that good, but we have rarely made a fish run and left with under 30 bass.
This was our pattern, which we have used in the late summer or fall to make at least one “fish-fry collection” a year.
Beginning at daylight, we launched and headed out around the points and turned toward the dam. We always pass up that first big flat on the right, which is a rounded point that juts about 300 yards off the bank.
As soon as we passed it, we turned in toward that bank and began working the shoreline with the drop shot rig. Usually, it takes a while to establish the pattern within the pattern, but not Wednesday. On a cool, fall-like morning, the bass were up and feeding ahead of what would be a long blue-bird day.
Using an 1/8th-ounce weight and 6-inch Roboworm in a bold bluegill color, we were putting fish in the boat one right after another. Most of the bass gave themselves away, chasing shad or bream fry against the bank.
Apparently, our light weights hitting the surface sounded like frightened prey, and the bass would come looking. When the fish saw the little worm, the bite was automatic.
We worked our way to the dam, and about halfway, the bank bite slowed. By then our 48-quarter cooler was over half full of 12-inch keepers.
The sun was up and we figured the fish had left the bank and moved out, so we did likewise. We repositioned the boat about 30 yards off the bank and began casting halfway to the bank and working the drop-shot back. The bites were slower and further between, but we kept fish.
My partner, Dan Smith of Ridgeland, switched to a square-bill crankbait and, while he did catch a few, it couldn’t match the slower moving drop shot.
By the time we reached the dam, and hit a few offshore spots with rock, we had a full ice chest and several more in the livewell.
It was about 9:45, so with a little time left before our planned 10 a.m. departure, we crossed the dam to a deeper hole to look for a few more fish. Shortly after our arrival, we added two more keepers and then ended on a really high note.
We saw a big swirl and a nearly hand-sized bream jumped out of the water trying to escape a predator. I hollered at Smith to throw something, quick. He reached and grabbed a ScumDog plastic frog and made a cast.
“Ain’t you got a crankbait,” I said, doubting a fish would hit a surface bait in that bright sun.
Said Smith: “I just grabbed a rod, thinking I had the square bill but I had the frog and I just…”
Bam! His answer was interrupted by a huge splash about 20 feet from the boat. The bass had hammered the frog. Smith set the hook and in about 15 seconds he had a 20-inch plus fish that had to push 6½ pounds.
“Frog for dessert,” is what I told him, as he released the big fish.
Isn’t it great when a plan comes together.
Reporting the catch to biologist John Skains of the MDWFP, he was interested in not only how we managed the catch but the health of the fish.
“Were the small fish healthy?” he asked.
Actually, they were a little thin but they were sassy.
“How about the fish between 14 and 20 inches?”
Fat as footballs and mean.
“And that one over 20?”
Healthy, but a little stupid.
Skains laughed but was happy to hear both of the number and the quality.
“We put the high creel limit on there to increase capture so that we can reduce the competition for the bigger fish and insure trophy fish opportunities,” he said. “I’m glad to hear they can be caught.”
The trophy aspect remains viable. The lake record is 15.4 pounds, caught by James Allen of Crystal Springs.
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