Lake Parsippany Bass Tournament in Heavy Wind

Brian Cronk Measures His 17-Incher

I've found Lake Parsippany a challenging proposition under any conditions I've fished there, and when Brian invited me to fish this month's bass tournament hosted by the Lake Parsippany Property Owners Fishing Club, I didn't hesitate, but an extra day of practice ahead of time felt onerous. We could have fished Furnace, Aeroflex, or our favorite private lake.

Turns out that for two hours of fishing or less on Thursday, a few bass wasn't bad, and if we matched that catch in six hours of fishing today, we would have been in third, not fourth place, of six teams. A few guys like fishing this lake and do pretty well here, as first and second place's total length of bass reflects, and I have to say my memory of fishing a few days ago is a good one. Today's will be, too. The first place crew, who were guests, logged their five of a total of eight or nine caught, at 85.75 inches, I believe it was. Over 85 and less than 86. Two members who fish here frequently, the second place crew. caught 84 inches. Third place was 47 inches and some. Brian and I had three bass at 43 inches. 

When Brian and I began fishing, I quickly had one on for a second. It blasted my topwater Mihara popper. Wind already blew pretty hard, the surface choppy, but I tried that topwater anyway. It would have worked a second time, too, but I got it caught in fabric and destroyed the rear treble while removing it. (I do own a split ring tool and an assortment of trebles for just this eventuality, plugs too precious, not necessarily so expensive, to waste.) A Rebel Pop-R worked on my second bass, another good one, lost right at the boat. We had encroached upon a length of water shadowed behind a big tree. 

The water is shallow. About three or four feet nearshore where we concentrated our efforts. Brian got a 17-incher on a Chatterbait; I threw a spinnerbait much of the time, avoiding the hang-ups on stumps that annoyed Brian. He never lost a Chatterbait, though, and must have got stuck 25 times. I was throwing that spinnerbait as 30 mph wind blew us across the lake on a drift that wasn't so fast we couldn't cast and retrieve. A blue and black spinnerbait that might have been shaded too darkly for the intense sunlight, but the water is rather stained. Out there that water might have been five, six feet deep, and I've been told bass are everywhere in the lake. 

Take that with a grain of salt. Some spots will hold more of them, such as the shorelines we had been fishing. Getting carried by the whitecaps on the open water wasn't adding up, and we felt very frustrated, me doubting that I would catch anything, and Brian wondering if he'd caught the only bass of the tournament, things felt so bad. It felt like being on Barnegat Bay in a heavy blow many decades ago, when I was on the water every day as a self-employed clammer. 

I loved that life any conditions I faced, and they included temperatures in the single digits. To take home good pay, I faced everything, even sleeping through Hurricane Charley on my 17-foot runabout with a tarp very well tied down over me, but here's the point. I reasoned that if we were going to pull a little more out of this debacle, number one, we had to face that for us, this was not efficient fishing, but we could make the best of it, rather than wallowing in disappointment. Brian's 12-foot Starcraft has a stern-mount electric, so obviously, we weren't exactly agile at pivoting for the presentation out there.

Nowhere near that!

But if we fished hard in spite of all else, dumping the 10- or 15-pound mushroom anchor repeatedly, even though Brian's shoulder is bad--but he was in the bow--then we stood a chance for certain, because we know bass haunt these shoreline areas. 

It didn't get us anywhere near first or second place, but it worked. My 10-inch dink on a Wacky worm was at least something, and Brian got a 16-incher on the Chatterbait. 

 Last April