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December in the Ozarks can be blessed with remarkably comfortable days and this one was a perfect example, sunny with a gentle breeze from the south and temperatures hovering in the low 60s.
Shad were active on south-facing banks, causing the bass to move shallow and feed. The conditions were ideal for casting a jerkbait parallel to the shoreline and, best of all, the fish were cooperating. But this perfect winter afternoon was about to go sour.
Normally bass just load up on a jerkbait in the winter but this fish smashed my lure and headed for parts unknown. Surprised and unprepared for the sudden surge, I leaned back into the rod bend.
I was a little off balance but surely the fish would relent soon and I would regain my balance – then it happened. The fish came off and I began falling backward toward the water.
The next few hundredths of a second seemed like an eternity, my mind raced. I was fishing alone; how would I get back in the boat? Do I have emergency clothing in the boat? Is my cell phone in the boat or in my pocket? When was the last time I checked the capsule on my inflatable life jacket? How cold is the water – 42 or 46 degrees? Can I ward off hypothermia long enough to get home?
I was angry at myself for going through this checklist now instead of at the dock or at home. I’m usually over-cautious and practice good safety habits, how could I have been so nonchalant on this day?
Through good fortune and perhaps a little help from a more powerful being, I crashed unceremoniously into the passenger console instead of falling into the water. I sat on the floor taking stock of the bruises and scratches while pondering the seriousness of the moment and the narrowly averted disaster.
A little hindsight revealed a disturbing lack of respect for the conditions. It was a beautiful winter afternoon, warm enough to need a jacket only when the boat was moving. What could possibly go wrong while pestering a few bass on sunbathed shorelines?
That explains the nonchalant attitude at the dock.
I witnessed a near disaster a few years ago while crappie fishing on a chilly spring afternoon. A bass boat with three anglers pulled up to a dock across the cove from me and moments later a scream grabbed my attention. The lady angler in that boat, who was not wearing a life jacket, had fallen into the water and her friends were pulling her back into the boat.
December in the Ozarks can be blessed with remarkably comfortable days and this one was a perfect example, sunny with a gentle breeze from the south and temperatures hovering in the low 60s.
Shad were active on south-facing banks, causing the bass to move shallow and feed. The conditions were ideal for casting a jerkbait parallel to the shoreline and, best of all, the fish were cooperating. But this perfect winter afternoon was about to go sour.
Normally bass just load up on a jerkbait in the winter but this fish smashed my lure and headed for parts unknown. Surprised and unprepared for the sudden surge, I leaned back into the rod bend.
I was a little off balance but surely the fish would relent soon and I would regain my balance – then it happened. The fish came off and I began falling backward toward the water.
The next few hundredths of a second seemed like an eternity, my mind raced. I was fishing alone; how would I get back in the boat? Do I have emergency clothing in the boat? Is my cell phone in the boat or in my pocket? When was the last time I checked the capsule on my inflatable life jacket? How cold is the water – 42 or 46 degrees? Can I ward off hypothermia long enough to get home?
I was angry at myself for going through this checklist now instead of at the dock or at home. I’m usually over-cautious and practice good safety habits, how could I have been so nonchalant on this day?
Through good fortune and perhaps a little help from a more powerful being, I crashed unceremoniously into the passenger console instead of falling into the water. I sat on the floor taking stock of the bruises and scratches while pondering the seriousness of the moment and the narrowly averted disaster.
A little hindsight revealed a disturbing lack of respect for the conditions. It was a beautiful winter afternoon, warm enough to need a jacket only when the boat was moving. What could possibly go wrong while pestering a few bass on sunbathed shorelines?
That explains the nonchalant attitude at the dock.
I witnessed a near disaster a few years ago while crappie fishing on a chilly spring afternoon. A bass boat with three anglers pulled up to a dock across the cove from me and moments later a scream grabbed my attention. The lady angler in that boat, who was not wearing a life jacket, had fallen into the water and her friends were pulling her back into the boat.
As soon as she was seated they started the outboard, put the hammer down and left the cove. I often wonder about the outcome of that high speed ride in wet clothes with air temperatures hovering in the upper 40s. Hopefully it was a short trip to a nearby warm house.
Winter in the Ozarks can be a safe and delightful time to fish. There are far fewer boats, which obviously lowers the potential for accidents, plus fewer anglers means less competition for the best spots. And finally, some of the biggest bass are caught during the cold water period.
Because of the winter conditions and cold water, anglers need to ensure their equipment is in good working order. For instance, starting and trolling motor battery fluids should be topped off and the batteries kept fully charged. Fuel system water separator/filters must be checked regularly and fuel conditioners added according to engine manufacturer’s recommendations.
Safety items should include a change of warm clothes, including a coat, a life jacket that will support 10 to 20 pounds more than the angler’s weight because thicker clothes add weight by absorbing more water. A cell phone is essential but unless it’s waterproof, consider stowing it in the glove compartment.
Obviously it’s best to fish with a partner, but always ensure someone knows your boating/fishing plans and if they change, pass that information along.
Climbing back into a boat with the extra weight and discomfort of cold wet clothes will be very difficult unless the boat has a built-in boarding ladder. Emergency boarding ladders are available from West Marine (www.westmarine.com); reviews of those and other boarding ladders can be seen on the internet at www.boatus.com/foundation/Findings/findings44/page2.asp. Testers actually found a homemade rope ladder could be appropriate.
Hypothermia is misunderstood by most winter boaters, the belief being that water temperatures above freezing aren’t a threat. Actually, unconsciousness can occur in less than an hour in water temperatures from 40 to 50 degrees with survival times of one to three hours.
See these safety tips at www.boatus.com/onlinecourse/documents/safesurvival.html#Hypothermia.
My column isn’t intended to dissuade winter boating and fishing because it can be enjoyable, productive and quite safe with the right precautions and common sense. Rather, my intent was to ensure you would be able to read my articles about crappie fishing next spring. Enjoy the lake this winter.
