Sometimes, all the skill and preparation can’t beat that special intangible: luck

I’ve always said that I would rather be lucky than good. For example ...

I was on a scouting trip by myself at San Luis Reservoir looking forward to fishing hard all day and trying out new techniques.

I approach striper fishing more as a hunter than as an angler because big stripers are just like any other big animal: They are tuned in to their surroundings, extremely wary, take over the best feeding spots and don’t get too far from the food. These strategies allow them to get big without being caught or eaten by another predator. You don’t usually get a big striper just by luck. That’s what makes it so special each time I hook a big one. They don’t come easy and it’s a privilege to catch and release these brutes.

So here I am heading all over the lake looking for the best areas and fish activity. I caught and released a few school fish but the overall bite was bad. Hours of fishing and work and nothing was happening. It was getting late and I had to leave soon. There are times when you have to admit that all the spitwads you threw at the wall accomplished nothing. Yeah, “never give up” can come back and haunt you at times.

I let the boat float about 100 yards off a small point while I put all my lures, poles and equipment away. I had a lot of stuff out all over the deck.

The light breeze was blowing me into the point as I cleaned for about 10 minutes with my head down. I was about 80 yards from the shore when I heard a splash nearby, then another. I looked up and realized there was a school of small stripers chasing bait about 30 yards from my boat! Might be a big one in the boils, too!

I had put everything away except for one pole that had a lure tied to it. There was no time to get another pole out, and I was supposed to have the boat out of the water in 14 minutes.

I threw the lure into the feeding fish and was reeling back when a strong force slammed me. I was hooked up to a good fish with about 12 minutes to ticket city!

When it came up, the beautiful 19-pounder glowed in the fading light. I was in shock. I had the one pole, was definitely leaving the lake, my day was kaput — then out of the blue a school of fish decides to attack me and a big one hits.

I hoisted the fish in, weighed it and released it all in about 90 seconds. I fired up the engine with five minutes left and got my boat out with about 30 seconds to spare. It’s tough running up that darn ramp, but I gained the extra time I needed.

Moral: Angler fishes hard for nine hours and gets very little, then one shot (the last cast), one kill. Seems somebody teed up the whole crazy thing. I realized I wasn’t such a great angler, after all. I’ll take it. Never give up!