I love driving my own boat!

I walked down to my boat shelter at the edge of the woods late one evening last fall. I had been sitting in front of my computer all afternoon, updating my fishing website – ebassfish.com – answering emails and dozing off between clicks of the mouse. Seems like these days…I have no problem taking “unwanted naps” when I have so much to do.  But I was on a mission this late evening. It was dark and cold as I turned on the lights and looked at my old bass boat.

She always lights up with an “oh there you are” attitude when I come around to check on her between fishing trips. I felt exceptionally sentimental this particular evening as I gazed across her deck. I remember how excited I was the day I got a phone call from a boat dealer in Chesapeake, Virginia saying they had just taken a BassCat Pantera II in trade and did I want to come look at it? I had been searching for 3 years for a tournament ready bass boat that I liked and I could afford to make payments on. I told them I would be there the next day. Of course, it was love at first site! A few days later, I was towing her home. It was one of the proudest moments in my life.

It’s funny how “life” happens sometimes. Had I known what was about to happen next in my life, I probably would not have made that trip to Virginia or signed my name on a boat loan. Logic would have over-powered my heart’s desire and I would have walked away from the boat. I found out a few weeks after I towed her home that I had breast cancer. Thank you God for leading me to this boat first! 

I climbed up in my boat and sit down on the back deck in the “co-angler’s seat”. I looked at the front of the boat and stood up. As I walked to the front of the boat, I counted…one… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine. I walked back, sit down again and stared at the front of the boat. I stood up again and counted my steps to the front…nine steps. I stood on the front and looked at the back seat. I asked myself…now how hard was that?

I climbed out, took one last look at my boat, turned out the light and went back to my office. I sit down in front of my computer, clicked on the Women’s Bassmaster Tour website and started filling out the registration form for the 2008 tour. My hands were trembling and my heart was pounding as I clicked on the word BOATER. I finished the application, made the deposit for all 4 tournaments and just sit there in disbelief. I was officially a BOATER!

My mind drifted back over the past 17 years. Except for local tournaments and club tournaments, that is how long I have occupied the “co-angler’s” seat. What great memories I have made from the back deck! My very first tournament was on Lake Seminole in Georgia. I was surrounded by all the great women anglers I had been reading about and seeing on TV. Janice Cheek of Louisiana was the very first angler I was ever paired with. She took me up the Chattahoochee River. I caught my first tournament bass and crossed the weigh-in stage for the first time. It was also my first experience fishing “among” alligators! The next day I fished with Linda England…I was “star struck” to say the least! Lucy Mize won that event. I remember watching her on-stage as she phoned her husband Jimmy to tell him the news…she talked about the “lucky” haircut she had got prior to the event.

Another memorable tournament was a year or two later on Lake Fork. I drew Lucy Mize at that tournament on Day One. All I had heard about while preparing for this tournament was how good “red rattletraps” worked on Lake Fork. Well, Lucy made a believer of me as I netted an 8-pound bass for her that day. She caught it on a red rattletrap. Talk about a nervous and inexperienced co-angler! I was never so happy in all my life to see a fish in a net! I’m sorry to say, I don’t remember the angler I drew on Day Two of that same event, but I do remember how thankful I was at her boating skills. A storm came up and we had a rough time getting back to the ramp. Huge waves were coming over the front of the boat and she had to turn the bilge pump on. I was relieved to step back on solid ground that day!

You get a lot of fishing lessons on the back of the boat. Lucy Mize is actually the angler who taught me to Carolina rig. I learned in 60 foot of water in the middle of the Tennessee Rive on Kentucky Lake while Lucy managed to keep the boat in position as huge barge wakes rocked us around. That tournament earned her an Angler of the Year title and I have since made Carolina rigging my signature fishing style: thus my nickname – Carolina Linda. Anglers like Lucy earn every title and tournament they win through hard work and learned skills. I admire their dedication and sacrifices to be the best in their sport.

 I can actually say that my worst day on the water was self-inflicted. I was fishing an FLW weekend event on Kerr Reservoir out of Henderson, North Carolina. I was one of only 3 women fishing the event of over 300 entrants. I had been diagnosed with Shingles a few days before the event. I over-medicated the night before and ended up sick the morning of the tournament. I managed to meet my partner and get myself and my gear in his boat. I knew it was just a matter of minutes and I would be heaving in front of all these male anglers. I asked him to troll out of the mix to the edge where I had a little more privacy. I told him I was sick but that I would stick out the day no matter what. Had I left the boat, he would not have got to fish that day. He kindly honored my request and I hung over the side of the boat until blast off. It was mid-morning before I could climb up in the back seat and start fishing.

The closest I ever knowingly came to “getting killed” on the water was during a pre-fish on the Apalachicola River in Florida. The husband of my pre-fish partner decided he wanted to drive the boat back to the launch ramp. And of course, he wanted to show-off his boating skills (or lack of it turned out). We were flying down a narrow channel when this huge yacht came around a bend and was passing us on the left (my side) of the boat. Well, Mr. Macho didn’t slow down or move over and as soon as the yacht passed us and before I could yell NOOOOOO, he turned the boat 90 degrees and proceeded to cut behind the yacht. All I could see as we flew through the air was the seemingly endless bottom of a huge wake. I braced myself for the inevitable as his wife - who was sitting in the middle - grabbed hold of me. When we landed, all the rod box lids and compartment lids on that boat flew open. The guy driving the boat was the only one injured. He jammed his back and had to lay in the floor of the boat while his wife (who should have been driving in the first place) got us back to the ramp. It took a lot of “boat angels” to save the three of us that day!

My second-most scariest day was in a tournament on the James River. My male boater was flying down the river pointing out different homes along the shoreline that belonged to famous people. The next thing I knew, my tackle and I were in mid-air. He hadn’t seen the huge wake of a large yacht that had passed us a few minutes previously. Had he not grabbed for me, I would have taken my first “swim” in the James River.

Fishing from the back of the boat has been an experience. I have seen the “good, the bad and the ugly” on lots of lakes, adjusting to different angling styles and personalities. I can’t say that I have ever had a “bad” experience. They have all been “learning” experiences and I cherish each day that I have fished as a co-angler. Most boaters have gone above and beyond the norm to help me out.

I am comfortable on the back of the boat. It is challenging for me to see who I draw at each event and if I can adjust my fishing style to their fishing locations enough to catch fish and cash a check. Many times, I caught fish and they didn’t. That always made me feel good about myself, but the boaters didn’t take too kindly to that scenario. After all, they are the ones who spent days and weeks pre-fishing. They are the ones who spent lots of money finding these fish. They are the ones who have to keep the boat under control in all kinds of weather situations. They are the ones responsible for our safety from launch to weigh-in. They like it when we both weigh in fish because that means they were good guides as well as anglers on any given day. 

Will I be a good boater?  They call the boater “a pro”. I had become a professional co-angler after 17 years on the back of someone else’s boat.  Will I really be a pro just because I took nine steps to the front of the boat? My boat is old by tournament standards. I don’t even have a GPS. I will have to fish each lake using old fashion common sense and a “paper” map! Will I be competitive? Will the boat that has seen me through the worse times of my life in recent years hold up for 4 road trips and 4 competitions? They say it isn’t the boat that catches the fish…don’t they?

Winter is almost over and the first tournament of the season will soon arrive. I am nervous and I am excited. This year, my fate is in my own hands and not another angler’s. It is my job to learn the lake or river system, find fish and catch fish and be safe in the process. I don’t take my decision to be a boater lightly.

My ultimate desire is to have a good reputation as a boater…to not forget where I came from and how many steps it took to be able to stand on the front of my boat and look at the person who has now taken my place on the back deck. That was me at one time and I will always be looking over my shoulder for inspiration.

My old boat has always  been there when I needed her the most. I learned to launch her and load her all by myself. I spent many days on the water with her practicing my fishing skills and enjoying some “alone” time. She was my therapy during my past 7 years as a cancer survivor. As we enter 8 years of survival, I know we will make a great team. She is still sitting under the boat shelter waiting patiently for HER maiden voyage in the Women’s Bassmaster Tour. She will slide into the water just like all the others on tournament day and drift among boats that are bigger and shinier and faster as we both wait to hear our number called. Our journey is uncertain but our spirit will prevail.

My first boat inspection.