Hooked On Lures
By Capt. Mel Berman, 970-WFLA

One of the bonuses of being “Capt. Mel” is that I get many invites from some of the areas best fishing guides. Because of the inadequacies of their novice clients, most use the tried and true live bait method of fishing. But my personal problem is that, over the last several years, I have become so enamored with the use of artificials that “soaking” a live bait frankly doesn’t get it for me.

On a recent outing with a local skipper, we netted a bunch of big beautiful whitebaits. And then it was off to one of his secret snook holes – a shallow area surrounding a certain barrier island along the Pinellas Coast

When we set up, the captain did a masterful job of chumming what was apparently a huge school of very large snook. He tossed out great handfuls of crippled greenbacks in a semi-circle area behind our anchored vessel.

At first the snook turned their collective noses up at the baits. But then, as the tidal conditions improved, these hefty linesiders began chowing down with enthusiasm.

Now I have to admit that it was an exhilarating experience hooking and releasing these big beautiful fish -- when the bite was on. Yet, there also ensued those long periods of down time -- when nothing was going on --- those long stretches where we couldn’t even coax them to eat even our nicest greenies.

It was during this slack “no-catching time” when I longed for my good old lures. Somehow, just standing there, holding the rod – hoping and praying that some fish will come by and give that live bait a yank – I frankly felt a sense of boredom.

Now I know a lot of our readers don’t mind – or even relish the idea of using live baits. But had I been out on my own with one or two of my fishing buddies, I’d be busily engaged in working various kinds of lures to see if I could elicit a response.

At first, I might reach for one of my confidence baits, like the popular DOA Shrimp or one of many available jigs. Then, if that didn’t work, I’d say to myself, “self – how about trying a topwater plug?” Then I tie one of my current favorite topwater fish catchers. I could have fun just watching that lure walk-the-dog across the water’s surface. And just seeing a big fish “waking” behind the plug would often be reward enough for me.

But here I was, just standing there with an inert rod and reel in hand. So I couldn’t stand it anymore. Throwing caution to the wind, I reeled in my hapless whitebait and tied on a small jerkworm jig. Twitching that baby through the water, I realized that was having fun again.

Now I would be the first to admit that I didn’t have any greater success than my fellow passengers drowning their live baits. But is sure was a lot more interesting and enjoyable time for me just twitching and reeling – trying different colors, shapes and sizes. I’d work some of the lures slow, some fast. I finally tossed a small gold spoon out in front of the obstinate snook – and guess what? I hooked one of those big babies!


So you see, on that trip, that very day, I discovered that I was a hopeless case. I am indeed hooked on lures.