By Brian Pentecost

Last November I decided that it would be a good idea to force a trip to the mighty Lake St. Clair for smallmouth bass. I had a professional guide in mind. My good river fishing buddy back home has picture after picture of him and this pro angler nailing the smallmouth on St. Clair. I had been frothing at the mouth for months to get out on this most special body of water to many smallmouth anglers.

My lovely wife was taking her first sommelier test and it was in Detroit, Michigan. Naturally I figured this would be my chance to catch my load of smallies St. Clair is renown for.

I have only been fishing for smallmouth for about 3 years. Growing up in Florida I almost mocked the bass magazines when they were holding up 5 pounders, while laughing to myself. I was catching 8 pound lunkers and thought I ruled the world at 13 years old. I had no idea that this species would become my favorite freshwater fish to hunt and land. The very first year I started fishing for smallies, I was fortunate enough to catch a 5.2 pounder in the Kankakee River just outside Wilmington, Illinois by the end of that season. That single fish changed my life.

This is an ongoing theme in my fishing experience: Begin catching a trophy that spoils you rather quickly…. then continuously pursuing that trophy or trying to best it, almost like a drug addiction where the first hit will always be chased, and that initial high can never be duplicated. Yet you keep pursuing to the point of lunacy.

Ask anyone that knows me, I am a fishing addict; a maniacal fisherman who fishes in -20 degree air temps to land a 1 pound largemouth out of a hot water discharge. I am also a foolhardy man who wades the river when the ambient temps would include a blanket and roaring fire and a shut in day curled on the couch with a book. There is no doubt in the minds of anyone who knows me, I’ll fish sleep deprived, hungry, hot or cold, and I trudge through these unpleasantries because I have learned that comfortable doesn’t always mean great fishing. Only comfort for me. I love the process of suffering. Somehow this effort validates the capture and release, and majesty of the whole process. It is a mental defect in my psyche but I digress.

I had no idea what true defeat felt like until I took this dream fishing trip.

I had never been to Detroit, but I liked it. I have a Facebook friend who lives there. I always try to network and meet up with other fishermen in every state or town I travel to. It helps me to fish with other anglers, because for me it is the best way to learn. We can YouTube our asses off all winter and watch every KVD fishing special on Wired2Fish, but the best way to learn is to meet up with a local and fish their waters with them. It is at least the best way for me. I need to experience the process as it burns the lessons into my memory banks and it becomes a part of me.

I met up with Cecil in his neighborhood and we set out for our day on his water. He took my advice and we proceeded to Belle Isle, a park in Detroit which looked like a smallie haven to me on Google maps. It wasn’t. The next day was our trip to St. Clair and we were both worried about the extremely cold weather and winds we were about to experience.

We met up at 5:30 am the next day. I’d been dreaming of grandeur and excellence just like I do every night when I can’t sleep before a tournament. Something tells me if you have not lost interest in this article you might feel the same.

We waited at the dock. We showed off our personally painted crankbaits and ten dollar jigs, and talked shop as we waited for the guide to arrive.

First thing out of the guides mouth that morning was something to the effect of the following: “You guys sure you want to go out in this?” We laughed that off and got in his beautiful bass boat. Space was at a premium for three guys, gear, rods and coolers, but we made it work. We just weren’t prepared for the weather. Immediately, I knew I hadn’t prepared enough and it was going to be a cold and trying day of smallmouth bass fishing.

Three guys fishing in a bass boat is not the greatest idea in my humbled opinion. Like a genius, I placed myself down in the middle of the two other anglers. Not a great idea… but it was St. Clair! Smallie heaven! It shouldn’t be an issue.

Our guide caught his first, then his second. After 20 minutes he grabbed my rod to re-rig, and tied on a twin tailed craw style bait. He actually tied my lure on, and suddenly I could see his opinion level of me drop as the day went further. Maybe I shouldn’t have bragged about tournament fishing or worn my fishing jersey while fishing with a true professional. I’m sure he thought I was a douchebag. I sometimes am; what can you do? He caught two more nice smallies while Cecil and I continued jerking at the weeds as if they were strikes. The guide caught his fifth fish and neither one of us have caught anything up to this point. Then it happened. Cecil landed a nice 3.5 pounder and we were pumped. We moved to another spot.

You will notice me not smiling here… those aren’t my fish.

At the new spot, neither Cecil or I caught anything. But the guide caught fishes 6-7-8. He told us both to stop jerking and hopping our jigs, only to lift the rod tip slightly and then drop and drag. I wish he would have told me they were actually hitting it on the drop. On the last spot he actually took us into a shallow back bay area with shallow water to try and assist two inept smallmouth pursuers. It did not work and we headed for the dock.

I was so shell shocked and disturbed about my lack of skill, my lack of jig fishing skill that I almost wanted to cry.

We all parted ways and I took the loser’s four hour drive of shame back to Grand Rapids where I was staying with my family. On that drive home I did not play the radio, I did not talk on the phone, I nodded in and out of consciousness because of the lack of sleep for the 2 am wake up for that drive and the extreme cold had sapped my energy not to mention that day had stunted my hopes dreams and soul.

What could I take from this as an angler? My first thought was THE GUIDE should have let me fish from the front of his boat. He used a remote control for the trolling motor and had he focused entirely on boat positioning he would have put me on those damn fish instead. Additionally, I specifically remembered at one point in the day he actually said to us that he should stop fishing. I felt like I paid to fish with a pro and that was it. I felt ripped off.

I’ve had several weeks to think about that saddening day in my fishing career. Our guide could have given me scuba gear and a spear gun, but I wasn’t supposed to catch any fish that day. Since that trip I have taken other charter trips to Michigan for walleye and in St. Lucia for whatever we could catch. I’ve caught trophy walleye in Michigan and the charter captain gave me some great tips on why they hit on the drop like they do, and why I needed to cast where I was casting and why the fish would hit it like that. My jig fishing has grown exponentially since that experience on St. Clair. This experience was my greatest defeat and it was one of the greatest lessons for me as a fisherman in how to be a successful jig fisherman.

Sometimes our defeats are opportunities to grow, learn, and develop. This was my kick in the butt… and I learned a lot from it.

I will take that charter to St. Clair again and I’ll go by myself next time. I will go when the weather dictates the bite should be hot, and I will pay less attention to my cell phone radio, my freezing hands, and my insecurities. I will diligently observe the guy catching fish and perhaps ask him some several questions. I hardly did when I went, but lessons learned. Professional anglers can’t all be winners (like I always love to say), but you still can take a lot out of a failure and maybe learn a little about yourself in the process.

Thank you for the lessons, St. Clair.

Brian Pentecost

Online Contributor

Brian Pentecost, 35, a native Floridian, has had some stellar successes in the Midwest, but these exploits did not come easy. It took about 2 full years of re-education and learning new techniques for him to figure out the Midwest bite. Since 2013 he has been fishing competitively and attempting to conquer the many waterways of Illinois and Wisconsin. Brian uses hand crafted lures and smaller boutique craftsmen to create lures and soft plastics that mimic nature in the best possible ways. We look forward to see what Brian will do during his double tournament series and personal fishing exploits this year. You can visit Brian on Facebook at his FishingForFishy page.