Crappie Can-Do Attitude Delivers Memorable Day

The perfect fishing day is a rare treasure because it just doesn’t happen that often. And for clarity, the day’s quality or quantity really aren’t the main criteria here. 

From the time you leave the house until the moment you return, the list of potential impediments range from “Oops, forgot the [fill in the blank,” to “You gotta be kidding me!” to the “Now what we do we do?”

Fish enough and misfortune will visit you. But how you handle the clouds has a great bearing on how quickly the sunshine returns. (Metaphorically, of course.

Wincing examples and painful illustrations are plentiful, but a recent outing with two longtime friends showcased a wonderful mix of perseverance and angling adaptation, seasoned with the kind of camaraderie that only happens on the water.

Wiring Woes

I met twin brothers Bryan and Greg Watts more than two decades ago during the height of their redfish tournament careers. After stepping away from that world circa 2012, they went to work for one of their major sponsors, Power-Pole, which was founded on the innovation of their former tournament competitor John Oliverio.

These days, the Watts brothers spend most of their fishing time chasing largemouth bass and speckled perch (Greg refuses to say “crappie,” but he’s okay with us using the term henceforth). 

After threatening to join forces for a filet fest, we finally found a mutually acceptable day and set a meeting time at central Florida's Lake Arbuckle. I was a few minutes early, but I’d end up waiting another 30 for my hosts — a most atypical tardiness for these diehard rod benders.

About 15 minutes past our planned launch time, Bryan called to say that Greg was having an issue with his trolling motor wiring. When they rolled up another 15 minutes later, Greg explained that their effort to fix the issue was unsuccessful.

Unwilling to throw in the towel, Greg apologetically said we’d be greatly limited in mobility, but we could drift key areas and hunt the fish on live sonar.

No apologies necessary, my friend. None. 

Happy for a long-overdue fishing trip. Besides, I absolutely knew that if anyone could MacGyver their way through a morning mishap, it was these two.

The Watts brothers did not disappoint.

Make It Work

The 90-horse Mercury outboard zipped Greg’s Triton aluminum boat out to a familiar offshore depression where the crappie commonly corralled baitfish. Trolling wasn’t an option, but using a small wooden paddle, Greg made due on the positioning.

With his brother locked and loaded, Greg watched his 9-inch Lowrance HDS screen and called the shots.

“Throw on him. 15 feet.”

A perfect presentation dropped Bryan’s 1/16-ounce jig with a pendulum fall that tempted the day’s first keeper.

“It’s not always about the structure,” Greg noted. “Sometimes, they like to roam and follow bait.”

Simple as it sounds, this game plan kept us busy for several hours. Sure, a functioning trolling motor would have significantly improved our capabilities, but watching the brothers work like a spotter and sniper team instilled a deeply motivating lesson.

If you want it bad enough, find a way to get it. A little wooden paddle, 7-foot, 10-inch spinning rods and little fuzzy jigs was their way.

Had this been a crappie tournament, it’s doubtful we would have been competitive. But if I’m being honest, occasionally stepping away from the sport’s tech-heavy efficiency and just wetting a line feels pretty good.

I’ve made loads of great memories and shot hundreds of storytelling images from high-dollar fishing sleds, but the simple things like watching a red and white bobber dip, dip, dip, disappear still thrills me as much as it did when that was my only childhood option.

Don’t Miss the Meaning

At our trip’s conclusion, my hosts piled the morning catch on a cleaning table shaded by towering live oaks. We weren’t in a hurry, so we chatted comfortably about everything from crappie tactics to those bygone days of chasing redfish for a living.

I’ve had some of my most meaningful conversations next to cleaning tables and, while we didn’t necessarily solve all the world’s problems, the chat was a good one. Part introspective, part reflective.

Greg handed me a bag of fresh crappie fillets and repeated his apology for the morning delay and the day’s limitation. I respected the sentiment, but it just wasn’t necessary.

Not being harsh; rather, deeply appreciative. Pretty sure the Watts brothers got it.

Yes, the journey is definitely more meaningful than the destination, and all’s well that ends well.  But walking a difficult course with fishing buddies who really understand the value of the precious few hours you get to share, well, that’s a gift.

We’ve all been given a certain number of days. The only problem is we’re not told how many.

Use yours wisely. Spending a day on the water with special people definitely qualifies — regardless of what works or what does not.

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