Yeah, that should do it!” hollered Mark Moran, as his fishing partner, Joey Muszynski, swung the landing net back over the gunnels of the boat. Deep in the mesh was Mark’s prize, a solid 6-pound smallmouth. Both knew they might have once again surpassed the magical 30-pound mark for five bass.
Smallmouth slam
A month earlier, on Saturday, October 23, 2010, the annual Bass Pro Shop’s Open tournament was held on Lakes Simcoe and Couchiching. Conditions lined up perfectly for an amazing day of fishing. Fall can be a smallmouth slam. In the minds of competitive bass anglers, this tournament is about breaking records.
Loading their weigh-in bag, Muszynski, 32, of Barrie and Moran, 43, of Port Perry knew the inconceivable was about to transpire, and the possibility of surpassing another milestone was seconds away. Could their five corpulent smallmouth surpass the 31-pound mark? As the scales settled, the unbelievable occurred: the digital screen read 31.5 pounds, setting a new Canadian 5-fish tournament record.
Catching the Canadian record
After the tidal wave of fanfare, hand shaking, and photos subsided, the magnitude of catching the new Canadian record set in. When interviewed for OOD’s News section, the question of surpassing their own record popped up. “Just give me the right day,” responded Moran, with a smirk.
And so, the quest began. Could this newly set record be broken? Who best to do it than the two anglers who set it? Muszynski and Moran agreed to the challenge, and we would take to the water as soon as conditions permitted.
After the tournament, the weather turned sour for weeks and our quest seemed in jeopardy. Time was running out, but mere days before the bass season ended on Simcoe, the weather finally co-operated.
“Wind is so crucial for success,” said Muszynski. “You can’t fish well in the fall with high winds. Staying on a spot becomes difficult and moving between locations is challenging. Your bait has to be positioned just right to get them to bite.”
Considering he’s won numerous big tournaments on Lake Simcoe, regardless of the calendar period, I took his word as gospel.
The article is a recount of our quest to break the Canadian tournament record.
On the water
November 19, 2010, 7:25 am: Readying the boat at Beaverton’s public launch, the morning is cold, so cold it snowed earlier. Mark laughs as he explains that his boat cover was so frozen, he had to fight to remove it. Meeting the guys, it looks like we’re going ice fishing. Both are outfitted with full survival flotation suits, wool hats, thick winter boots, and several pairs of gloves. Trophy bass hunting requires concentration. Being cold won’t allow you to focus.
7:45 am: After a chilly ride, the boat settles in at spot number one. It’s not really a spot, but more of a zone. A quick look at Mark’s GPS unit makes it clear that he’s done his homework. Icons cover the screen, like a minefield of little black rings – so many, they’re overlapping. Their numerical order ranges from the low 400s, all the way to the upper 900s, indicating years of compilation.
Each waypoint is special. Clusters of rocks, maybe just one rock, or a slight depth change, or a place where a big fish was caught all warrant a place on his milk run of lucky spots. Asked about the plethora of icons, Mark explains that he spends hours with his electronics, particularly his down and side-scan sonar, searching for bottom structure.
The first two baits to hit the water are an interesting combo. Mark selects a vertical nickel jigging spoon linked to a 6-foot 6-inch baitcasting setup. Joey picks up a tube jig on spinning gear. Each drop they’re offering down through the depths. Conditions have changed a lot since their October win. Today, the pair admit the fish should be glued to bottom.
First fish
8:10 am: Joey connects with the first smallmouth, a long, golden fish that comes into sharper focus once out of the net. The digital scale announces 5.13 pounds. Slipping the fish into the livewell, he turns back to his rod to ensure the line is perfect. With fish like that, we’re on target for a giant creel.
Fishing in the mid-20 to 30-foot range can be awkward. It’s like arthroscopic surgery. Eyes and hands need to work in unison with the aid of electronics. Mark keeps the boat on a winding path, connecting the dots of his GPS unit.
8:22 am: Mark heaves on the rod. The line tightens and, after slowly working the fish topside, he guides it to the net Joey’s holding. The first bass on the spoon weighs an even 5 pounds. As the livewell lip closes, Mark is back at the bow, rod in hand.
8:30 am: The dead-grey water, mirroring a dull morning, has a slight chop on it. It seems almost haunting. Joey’s quickly into a good one that battles well, considering the time of year and cold water. After a few deep pulls, the fish – a giant bronze profile in the water – is close to the surface. Moments later, Joey has a thumb lock on it. The plump fish seems overinflated and pulls the scale down to 6.1 pounds. To reach a creel over 30 pounds, we must have a 6-pound average. This seems unachievable, but with these two guys, on this lake, it’s not such a distant dream. We have three fish for 16 pounds. Crazy!
Time slips by
8:48 am: As we continue to leapfrog from waypoint to waypoint, the minutes tick by. Joey senses a bite and lets it have it. The sizeable fish bulldogs just out of sight. Once in Joey’s hands, it’s a wonderful smallmouth – except for today. It weighs just 4.1 pounds.
9:16 am: Time continues to quickly slip by. Joey returns to the drop-shot rig after a brief stint with a green pumpkin tube. Drop-shotting is an essential technique for anyone after smallmouths. With a mild wind, the rig can be placed with laser accuracy on bottom. Joey fishes an off-white minnowbait. I’ve never seen this one in stores – probably a custom job. Many of the top pros demand specific custom colours and profiles. Joey and Mark work with a local fishing company to get what they want.
Seconds later, Joey is into another big bass. With lighter line, patience is a must. He expertly exhausts the bass enough that it slips into the net. Hoisted gingerly on the scale, the bass scores 5.15 pounds. Added to the rest, Mark instructs Joey to switch the livewell from auto to manual, to keep the pumps running. He wants to keep the fish healthy.
9:24 am: Mark is on the board again. Another 4-pounder falls to a chrome spoon. He assures me the spoon is a strong player in late fall.
Hooking in
9:37 am: Still in the same zone, Joey snaps a hook into another bass. It doesn’t realize it’s closer to winter than summer, as it tenaciously stays put, determined to stay deep. Joey has to work at getting it to the boat. Safely in his hands, Joey admires its tremendous size and bronze shimmer. The scale reveals a weight of 6.12 pounds.
10:10 am: The boys are itching to leave. So far, the catching has been amazing, but looking at my hosts’ faces indicates a strain to do better. Suddenly, Mark is into one in 29 feet of water. On the casting gear, he has control. Manhandling the fish, he brings it to the net relatively quickly. The scale reads 5 pounds even. Soon after, the boat is on plane.
10:38 am: This new spot looks like the last. All the productive spots can only be identified on the graph. Again, on screen, this zone is dotted with numerous icons.
11:11 am: After cruising with no success between GPS icons, Mark leans into a hook-set. The tussle is slow, yet determined. This smallmouth has no interest in revealing itself. Slow and steady, Mark gains line. With a dart of the net, the fish it caught. A quick measure reveals it’s another 5.10-pounder.
Big ones
12:18 pm: After a long silence, Mark is into another. Boat-shy like the last one, it takes several minutes to subdue. Again, it’s a beast, weighing a solid 6.11 pounds.
The sheer size of all these bass is staggering. Where have all the little ones gone? Most anglers sort through wads of 1-pounders. Today, it’s all big ones. Time of year, quality of angler, and Simcoe’s big bass population are all playing a huge role.
I notice that Mark’s boat is dotted with pennies. When quizzed about them, he laughs about the need for luck.
Judging from what’s inside the livewell, luck is the last thing these two need.
Lucky pennies remind me of Lake Ontario salmon charter-boat operator John Foley, who threw pennies at the rods when the action slowed. Minutes after his coins plopped into the water, the riggers started tripping with fish on the rods. Hopefully, the same will happen today.
Relocation, relocation
12:55 pm: We relocate farther northeast. Most of our time is spent in 26- to 29-foot depths. The fish are biting funny; ticking the bait, then leaving it. Both Joey and Mark rear back on their rods without sticking fish.
2:17 pm: After a long gap, Mark is finally into another bass. This one might be the prize of the day. Mark controls it with a medium-heavy casting rod, which dangled a chrome spoon. Joey reaches out the net as far as he dares. We need this one to vault us over the 30-pound mark. Safely in the mesh, Mark weighs it and smiles. At 6.2 pounds, the fish is added to the others.
4:20 pm: We decide to call it a day. The morning was productive, but the afternoon dragged. One would expect fishing would improve as the day warmed. This wasn’t the case.
At the Beaverton boat ramp, we run into Peter Savoia, another late-season basser. His company, “Set The Hook,” pours drop-shot baits in custom colours and designs for Mark and Joey. While chatting, we discover that Peter had done poorly, with only one fish to his credit. Surprisingly, we saw him relatively close to us. This just confirms the fact that Joey Muszynski and Mark Moran are truly a special breed of angler.
First published in the October 2011 issue of Ontario OUT of DOORS Magazine.
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