I caught the bass in Chelsea and in the water. That's all I better say about that. The owner of the lake was and probably still is a bit "ticky" about his lake, and with good reason. I caught fish every time I went there. The only reason I got to fish there was because I was his grandson's youth pastor at the time. It was April of '99 or '00 on a Friday around 5:30. I had just walked up to the bank and caught a couple of smaller bass when I noticed something rather large moving in and out of the shallows about 30 yards to my right. On about its third trip into the shallows, I cast my favorite spring-time Chelsea lure, a #7 shallow running Baby Bass Rapala. The cast fell perfectly in the path of where she was returning to deeper water. When the lure hit, I let it rest for a couple of seconds, then I gave the lure a couple quick jerks, which caused the bass to attack full force. It opened up its large mouth and came about half-way up out the water. The bass moved to deeper water as I respectfully allowed her to pull line from my Ambassador 4600 C. I remember thinking, "Wow, this fish is really strong". She seemed to tire rather quickly and I brought the bass up to the bank to grab it. I'll never forget seeing those big "Bug Eyes" and that mouth that looked like it could swallow a truck, emerge out of the water and onto the bank. As I was about to grab the fish, I stretched my rod out behind me to keep tension on the line when "POP" - the lure came out of its mouth and went flying past my head. I remember a sick feeling rush through my body as the freed beast lay just a couple feet in front of me in the mud, half in and half out of the water. Then, in one of those moments when the planets must have been in perfect alignment, I jumped directly into the mud and on top of the fish. My thumb went into the fish's big "Bug Eye", with the rest of my hand easily finding its way into the fish's mouth. Once I had control of the fish, I quickly fought my way out the mud and away from the water. When I had secured my footing,I sprang up and yelled at the top of lungs, something like "Woo Hoo" or "Yaaahhhh!" I couldn't believe it, I had caught one of the biggest bass I had ever seen and I didn't just catch it once, I caught it TWICE!

After showing the bass to the owner of the lake and asking him for permission to keep it, I went to Sis's Corner Market and the legendary, "Mama Kat" helped me weigh the bass on official meat market scales.10 lbs exactly! Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention, I weighed it twice.

---

September's "Show your Bass" Article

-Jason Mayo

I remember it like it was yesterday... A springtime Friday night in 1991, on Zamora Lake in Springville, AL, from a flat bottom boat pushed by a trolling motor, I cast a purple lizard with chartreuse tail alongside a fallen tree, just around the bend from the boat docks, at about 8pm, when a sudden yank like I had never felt nearly pulled my rod in. First, she went hard left and I set the hook. Then, I watched, in awe, as this swollen-bellied monster surged and breeched the surface, flailing, violently flapping trying in vain to shake the stubborn barb from her jaw. Back below the surface and now on a tare, she swung hard left again for about 10 yards and leapt back into the air. This time she went for the moon and got about half way. My rod tip pointed straight at her now, I guided her momentum back underwater and reeled her back toward me, across the bow and landed her without a net. Once my thumb was in her mouth, the offset hook that somehow stayed in her through all that thrashing seemed to fall effortlessly from her gaping jaw, as if she were saying "See, I let you catch me- now let me go", and it occurred to me - this might be the biggest bass I would ever catch in my entire life. The beast had quarter-sized eyeballs and a mouth four times the size of my fist. I had to show my Dad. I put the entire stringer chain and one clip in her mouth, out her last gill and fastened it to the chain. Her fate was sealed: She was bound for eternal glory on my wall. I was aware that the state record at the time was between 15 and 16 pounds, and maybe... just maybe...

Back at the docks, I wanted her to stay in the water until I was done loading my gear and hopefully she would be alive on the scale. I heard the metal chain scraping and whipping against the aluminum boat. Everything now out of the boat, there was nothing left to do but pull her out of the water again and find the nearest grocery store. I took hold of the stringer and I began to pull it from the dark water. A second later, the most disappointing moment of my life happened when I saw the other end of the stringer come naked and fishless from the water. It seems her will to live was stronger than the clip, leaving me with only a memory and the marks of her teeth all over my thumb.

I've never caught another one that big, but every year I try. And if I ever do, you can bet I'll take a photo.

Catch a big one last weekend? Got proof? Send a picture of you and your bass to: ShowYourBass@ChelseaPassport.com. We'll pick the best photo and publish it in the November issue of the Chelsea Passport

Don't forget to give your name, and tell us the story of your catch, too, like where you were, what you caught it on and where you bought your gear.

Fish On!