Mate, what a wild ride that was. I’ve just wrapped up fishing the third stop of the Bassmaster Opens Division One here in 2025 and fair to say it didn’t exactly go to plan—but I learnt a heap and had a bloody good crack at it.
This was my first time fishing a tidal fishery and that alone was a whole new experience for me. We were out on Chesapeake Bay and I’ve got to say, it’s a pretty unreal spot—massive flats full of eelgrass, current running through it, and fish holding in all the right places… sometimes. I thought I had it all dialed in during practice and honestly, I was quietly confident heading into the tournament. But yeah… the weather had other ideas. More on that in a sec.
Before the comp kicked off, I spent a fair bit of time using the Garmin charts. Those things are next-level. You can overlay satellite images over your maps and actually see where all the grass beds are—super helpful for finding prime fish-holding spots. I looked for the patches where current was pushing through the grass. If the water was moving, that’s usually where the fish were stacked up. But if it was dead still, nah, barely any fish around.
In practice, I was getting bites just by ripping around with a little chatterbait. I used a bruised pumpkin Evergreen chatterbait paired with one of those new slim Yamamoto Zakos. I’d chuck it out, burn it through the grass, rip it when it got caught, and bang—hook-ups. That thing was mint for covering water and finding fish.
Another bait that played a big role in practice was the Teckel Sprinker Frog. It’s got this paddle tail on the back that gives off an epic plopping action. When the water was low and the grass was topping out, I’d throw it right over the top. The blowups I got were mental. One of the bites on that frog was actually the biggest bass I’ve ever caught—over six pounds easy. I’d caught a six in Texas before and this one was definitely bigger. But I didn’t have time to weigh it properly, just grabbed a quick selfie and slipped it back.
I was running that frog on one of the new Samaki prototype rods—a 7’4″ frog rod—and it was a beast. Had the grunt to winch that big girl in through the thick stuff no dramas.
But here’s the kicker—none of that stuff actually worked on game day.
Day one of the tournament started off alright. First couple hours I was catching them again on the chatterbait, same spots as practice. But as the day rolled on, the place got packed. Boats everywhere. Everyone and their dog was throwing the same thing and the fish got wise to it pretty quick. I stopped getting bites altogether.
Now one of my roommates, Ryan—he’s a top bloke and an absolute gun with the electronics—was fishing the same area as me and started whacking them on a drop shot. I watched him for a bit, thought “bugger this,” and tied one on. I rigged up a little drop shot with an 1/8th ounce weight and a pink six-inch worm, using 12lb fluoro to muscle them out of the grass. Not sure what it was about the pink, but they were loving it.
Ended up catching a couple doing that, but the best move I made all day was deciding to leave the western flats where everyone else was fishing and heading over to the east side. Water was cleaner, no one around. I pulled up, dropped the worm in, and bang—hooked up straight away. A solid 3-pound smallmouth. Then not long after that, a 4-pound largemouth. That was such a good call. I left it late, probably should’ve gone there earlier, but I was buzzing heading into day two thinking I’d found the magic spot.
But then came the heartbreak.
Day two I started off on a different spot, didn’t catch squat. So I headed back to my “honey hole” from the day before—and it was stuffed. Wind had shifted overnight and blew a heap of dirty water in. Water was chocolate brown and fish were gone. Completely blew it out. I scrambled, ran through every waypoint I had from practice, every area I’d caught them—but I couldn’t even buy a bite.
With about two hours left, I gave up on the plan and joined the crowd at the community hole. There must have been 30 boats there. I found my mate Sam and Connor Jacobs and told them I only had one bass. Sam told me to throw a speed worm and just drag it through the grass. I tied one on straight away, and finally got a few more bites. Saved the day, barely.
That was all on another Samaki rod I’d been testing—a 7-foot medium topwater model, but I was throwing light plastics on it and it handled it sweet. The whole setup felt right—16lb fluoro and the Olltolos X-Braid, which was super sensitive and held up nicely.
In the end, I finished 93rd overall. After day one I was sitting in 40th, so I was pretty gutted with how it ended. Still, you win some, you learn some. That’s fishing. It was a proper rollercoaster—highs, lows, heartbreak, and a big PB.
Right now I’m up in New York, parked up beside Lake Ontario getting ready for the next event on the St. Lawrence River. That one’s all about smallmouth and forward-facing sonar, so it’ll be a totally different game again. I’ve never been this far north before, and it’s actually stunning up here. The van’s pulled up in a little park beside the water. Bit of a tourist spot, but not a bad place to get your head straight and prep for the next round.
I got some footage from Chesapeake too, so I’ll chuck that together and post it soon. But I wanted to bang out this little recap while it was all still fresh. If there’s one thing I’ve learned—it’s that no matter how good practice is, you’ve got to be ready to change on the fly. Conditions shift, fish move, and if you don’t adapt, you’re left behind.
Anyway, on to the next one. Fingers crossed we can smash it in New York.
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