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Why do they shell out a continual stream of cash for these inert items? It’s easy to see why. Most of us have a slight insecurity when it comes to bait selection. We stock our tackle boxes with everything but the proverbial kitchen sink in hopes of being ready and armed for whatever the fickle fishing gods lay on us.

On the other hand, there are those elite, highly productive anglers among us who consistently catch fish, exclusively working one preferred lure. After years of deployment, it has evolved into their “confidence bait,” a lure with a proven track record of accomplishment even under the most adverse conditions. 

Some years back I enjoyed a front-row seat observing one such disciplined angler in action, a good fishing friend, Bob Simone.  As usual, Bob arrived with just one spinning outfit fitted with his chosen bait, a Norman’s Rat-Lure.

As for conditions, it was one of those boring no-tide, very sluggish fishing days. Either the fish had all died or suffered from some kind of “terminal lockjaw.”  Undaunted by these less than enthralling conditions, Bob steadfastly walked his Rat-Lure across the waters surface, “Slurp, slurp, slurp.” 

Meanwhile, the bulk of my time was spent frantically rummaging through my overly generous inventory of lures, hoping against hope that I’d stumble across that one irresistible bait that might appeal to the finicky fish.

“Slurp, slurp, slurp.” Bob continued, patiently tossing and retrieving his buoyant topwater in all directions. Meantime, my continuing project was tying loop knots, changing baits, working each and every one without success, then changing again. These frequent bait replacements eventually shortened several leaders to useless nubs. At least there was lots of practice measuring 20-pound test and surgeon’s knotting countless leaders. 

Moving our small boat so that we could work a trough running along an oyster bar, my very first cast finally yielded a fish. I triumphantly reeled it in, gratified to feel “a pull.” Unfortunately, it was an embarrassingly small spotted sea trout, measuring no more than a pitiful 12-inches. Yet, there was that feeling of elation. The ice had been broken, and I proudly caught the first fish of the day. Bob graciously acknowledged my dubious accomplishment, continuing his determined course of action. “Slurp, Slurp, Slurp.”   

Walking the topwater along the oyster bar’s edge, Bob managed only one slurp before a massive fish crashed on his bait. It was massive and silvery and quite unhappy with its predicament, pulling off copious amounts of mono. “That looks like a big snook,” I yelled. “Sure doesn’t pull like a snook,” countered Bob.

Working it masterfully, Bob maneuvered the lunker near the boat. Then it suddenly made one last desperate charge southward. “Hey, that’s the biggest trout I’ve seen in a long time!” “I know,” acknowledged Bob. 

Lifting the enormous spotted beauty into the boat, Bob gently took its measurements. “29 ½ inches,” he announced. “What a trout. Look at that huge yellow mouth,” I shouted. Bob was quite nonchalant about it all, more concerned with safely returning the large, silvery creature to the water. Were I Bob, I’d have been tempted to retort with a wise-acre comment like, “Any questions?” Instead, Simone quietly resumed his plan of action...“slurp, slurp, slurp,” persistently walking the plug across the surface. 

Needless to say, my next plan of action was to frantically rummage through the old tackle box, locating the identical plug and shamelessly emulating Bob’s patient technique.... “slurp, slurp, slurp.” After several impatient minutes with no action, I succumbed to that nasty old temptation, strapping on yet another bait.  At about the moment I finished tying on the new selection, I looked up in time to witness Bob reeling in a massive redfish. It was a “big Shouldered,” valiant fighter, measuring an impressive 32 inches. “What a beauty,” I said trying to conceal the sound of envy in my voice. 

The point of this parable is that, on that day a good lesson was learned. To be a successful angler, you need to get intimate with that one special confidence lure. It should be a bait with a proven track record for you... a plug, spoon or jig with which you’ve achieved a consistent measure of success.  Stay with it. Put it through its paces. Try various retrieves. Observe what it does in calm or choppy waters. Once you get a fish to bite, note how fast or how slow you were working the lure. Did you twitch lightly or rip it through the water. Were you keeping the rod tip down, up, or off to the side? Get satisfactory answers to all these questions, making mental or even written notes of these details. All of these are important snippets of information which can ultimately educate you in the productive use of your preferred lure. 

Above all, have patience. Stay with it. Give the lure ample time to work for you. You might want to conduct a brief experiment.  During your next fishing trip try using that one preferred lure exclusively all day. Resist the temptation to change.  You could very well surprise yourself and wind up with a successful and rewarding new fishing tactic.