Beatin' the Bank - 2021 Lake Champlain B.A.S.S. Elite

By Bernie Schultz

When I first saw Lake Champlain on the schedule, my reaction was more than positive. I couldn’t wait to get there.

In 2020, I felt I had learned some valuable lessons — things that carried me to a strong finish in that event. And since the scheduled dates were so similar, I assumed the same strategies would work this time as well.

Boy was I ever wrong!

Practice Begins

On day 1, I launched the boat at Plattsburgh City Marina— our official take-off site for the event. From there, I traveled north to test the waters on the New York side of the lake.

In no time, I was finding smallmouth roaming the shallows. They were aggressive, too. After taking the bait away from a number of quality fish, I marked their locations with my Garmin Echomap and kept moving.

As the sun got higher, the numbers dropped off dramatically, which is uncharacteristic for smallmouth. Realizing that, I switched to a drop-shot to probe some deeper spots. My outfit consisted of a 7-foot, medium-light Shimano Expride spinning rod with Sustain 3000 reel, spooled with 10-pound Power Pro Slick and fluoro leader. On the business end was a Yamamoto Shad Shape Worm and ½-ounce tungsten weight.

Although I caught a number of fish with that setup, most were random and nothing I felt I could rely on. Before I knew it, the day was gone.

The next morning, I drove south to Ticonderoga to check on the largemouth bite. When I arrived, I discovered the water level was extremely low and most of the weedbeds too shallow to hold fish. After searching a 20-mile stretch of river, I found almost nothing of value.

Essentially, the day was a bust.

On day 3 of practice, I decided to test the waters in the Inland Sea where I boated more than 18 pounds of smallmouth every day in the previous year’s event.

And though I caught a few fish on those same spots, it was clear the real numbers were gone.

Trying to replicate the pattern, I moved from one deep-water spot to another, but all I caught were random fish in the 2-pound class. By afternoon, I decided to abandon the deep-water approach altogether and try the shallows with a swimbait.

Quickly, I scored a number of nice smallmouth on several windblown points. Satisfied with that, I decided to check some shallow docks for largemouth in order to establish a backup should things get tough.

In one area, I found several temporary platforms holding fish — all of which responded to a 4-inch weightless Senko. Filing that away, I returned to the ramp to ready my equipment for the days ahead.

Competition Time

Mired in the third flight, I sat and watched as most of the field headed north from take-off. I wondered how many, if any, would be where I wanted to start.

Finally, around 7:20 a.m., my number was called and I exited Plattsburgh City Marina.

Twenty minutes later, I rounded a large island and found my starting spot unmolested. Once in position, I dropped the trolling motor and began to probe the shallows with a 4-inch Swim Senko on a Gamakatsu EWG belly-spinner hook. Twice I felt slight taps on the end of my line, but no connection. Finally, 15 minutes in, I hooked up with a 3-pound smallmouth. A few minutes later, I scored a 2½. Then, a stiff breeze started to blow directly into the shoreline I was fishing.

An hour later, the wind eased off and I caught a third 2-pounder on a popper. My next casts with the popper were to the top of a rocky spine extending from the shoreline, where I hooked up with a smallmouth pushing five pounds. Two quick jumps later, it threw the hooks. I wanted to throw up.

From there, I moved to a nearby shoreline and tried the same approach. But I was only able to coax a 2-pound largemouth. That was it.

The minutes turned to hours and I was stuck without a limit. Concerned, I returned to the docks that held fish in practice. Beneath one platform, I caught four largemouth in the 2 to 3-pound class. When it was time to head in, I had a modest 14-pound stringer.

Disappointed, I gassed the boat, grabbed some drive-thru and headed to the hotel to re-rig my tackle.

Last Gasp

The next morning, I launched the boat and decided to try something different. When my number was called, I idled directly to the rock jetty protecting the marina. Adjacent was a thick bed of beautiful milfoil. Wondering why no other anglers wanted the spot, I began punching the grass with a 1-ounce jig.

Thirty minutes later with zero action, I had my answer.

From there, I moved to the sailboats anchored inside the harbor. Next to one, I caught a 2-pound smallmouth using a topwater walking bait. But that was it.

From there, I ventured to a nearby island and tried fishing the topwater over several rocky shoals. Nothing.

Next, I tried drop-shotting the deeper sections of those same shoals. Still nothing. That’s when I decided to run to the points in the Inland Sea, to throw a swimbait.

Thirty minutes later, I hit the first point. The wind was blowing hard and from a completely different direction than in practice. I fished it anyway.

Nothing.

From there, I moved to another point, hoping to get my day started. Still nothing. Finally, around midday, I hooked and landed my second keeper. It wasn’t big, but it did bring some relief.

Continuing with the shallow swimbait pattern, I finally caught a third fish. But that was it. Running out of time, I moved to the docks to finish my limit on largemouth. When I arrived at the best platform, I noticed a man docking his boat. I fished the platform anyway, but to no avail.

Moving to the next dock, I made a random cast to an anchored skiff. Immediately, my line jumped and I quickly boated a 2-pound largemouth. Seeing that, I started targeting isolated, moored boats for largemouth. Again I scored. But just as I found some success, time ran out.

Again, I went to weigh-in with a modest limit. By the time it was said and done, I dropped dramatically in the standings.

Having only one Elite event remaining, I sat and wondered how bad the season could get. Surely I could rally on my favorite body of water — the St. Lawrence Seaway.

Stay tuned …