In fishing, it's tough setting the hook on a 'sure thing'

My first Gone Fishin' column appeared in 1971 and to this day, I had only missed one deadline ever .. . leastwise, until today -- nearly. And thanks to a reminder from the sports editor, I didn't miss itthis time. So, excuses over, here's the word:

The word is, don't be too quick to predict anything, especially about fishing.

Last column, I predicted hybrid bass season was upon us, especially when it came to fishing at whatI call "Magic Hour," which takes place every summer, especially at Spruce Run Reservoir, as theskies start to darken.

Well, last Magic Hour time out, in spite of excellent conditions, nary a hybrid ("rocket") went off atall during the peak 60 minutes from 7:30-8:30 p.m. on July 29. Ron Bern and I caught some fishearlier but when we moved to our usual hot spot, there was no heat at all.

We managed five fish, the biggest a 16.5-inch smallmouth bass, but had no strikes at all from ourfavorite, hybrid bass.

The week before, I released 11 fish including six crappiesto 14.5 inches in length along with an eight-poundnorthern pike. Three days later, I caught four fish toppedby a six-pound channel catfish and had one screamingrocket slam-and-miss.

This period of time reminded me of the exact opposite period which took place maybe 10 or so yearsago. Do you remember Howie Brandt, the freshwater fishing writer for The Star-Ledger? Well, I hada string of 13 Magic Hour trips in a row on my scorecard with at least one hybrid being caught overa two-summer period. So I invited Howie to join me for an encounter with rockets.

The timing was perfect, ditto the weather, so what could go wrong? Well, we got two bites thatevening. One was from a white catfish I caught and the other was from a sea gull that ate Howie'sherring which was swimming around on top, begging to be gobbled by big bird, and eaten it was.

Honestly, hybrid bass should be eating every evening throughout August but for sure, nothing iscertain. It sure wasn't certain that night.

My last outing was July 31 with Ron in the bow of the Gone Fishin' IV, this time, on the DelawareRiver at Byram. It was very slow but still, we each boated and released two fish. All were taken on,believe it or not, chicken liver!

Ron had a pair of six-pounders -- one a nice channel catfish and the other the first flathead catfisheither of us had ever seen. My two fish were pure-strain striped bass. "Cute," I guess, compared totheir ocean-going family members. However, it still was fun and the biggest was 19.5 inches long.More next time.

Meanwhile, for those of you who are writer-wannabees, here's an idea that might make sense. Asyou may know, I've written and/or published 23 books and am under contract with two other authorsto publish their books.

I am giving a talk on how to write and publish a book at the Franklin Township Library, 485 DeMottLane in Somerset, Somerset County, at 7 p.m. Monday. The talk is free but the library would likepeople to call and let them know they are coming. So if you want to hear me babble on, call 732-87--8700 and register. I promise to not put you to sleep.

'Scuze me, gone fishin'.