The Aces of Bass : At Lake Casitas, the Fish Are Big, as Are the Rivalries Among Fishermen

By PETE THOMAS

March 1, 1995 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

OAK VIEW, Calif. — In a quiet corner of Lake Casitas, which has put this hamlet on every bass angler’s map, a particularly big fish stuck its massive head out of the water as if to study the situation.

It remained in this posture, like a spy-hopping whale, for a second or two before slipping beneath the glassy surface.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” said John Shull, 38, a guide who has been fishing here for 21 years.

But when it surfaced again, this time violently and with purpose, shaking its head as if there was no tomorrow, it was acting as a big bass should.

One with a hook in its mouth, that is.

Shull barked at his customer to keep reeling and to keep the rod tip down.

“He’ll throw the hook if you don’t,” he said. “You never want to let him get his head out of the water.”

As if the fisherman had any choice. The big fish leaped time and again, flailing wildly and sending large circular wakes across the lake before finally being reeled close enough for Shull to reach down, hoist it onto his boat and pop it into his live-well.

The Florida-strained largemouth bass weighed 12 1/2 pounds, Shull estimated.

“That’s a once-in-a-lifetime fish,” he said. “Most people can fish here their whole lives and never catch a fish that big.”

True enough.

But then Lake Casitas, situated in this small agricultural community 15 or so miles from the coast between Ventura and Ojai, is no ordinary lake. It is the hottest bass fishery in the world.

A 10-pounder is considered a trophy-sized bass. At Casitas, 10-pounders have been caught by the dozens every week.

But few bass fishermen make trophies of them anymore. Instead, most weigh their fish and then release them. If they didn’t, there wouldn’t be any productive bass fisheries left.

And with no bass fisheries, people like Shull would have little purpose in life.

Shull, as is the case with all hard-core bass fishermen, spends practically every minute of his free time on the lake.

He and a couple of dozen others like him, despite having regular jobs, are fixtures here during the bass-fishing season from January through spring. When they can’t make it, they spend the day wondering what is happening on the lake.

“It’s a sickness for these guys,” said Randy King, concession manager at the lake. “It’s an addiction, it really is. Some of these guys are out on the lake at dawn and don’t come off it until the lake closes (at dusk).”

Practically all come towing fancy boats and toting the fancy tools of their trade, high-tech rods and high-speed reels.

Some even bring fancy names. There is Doc Holliday, who by high noon has usually plugged a big bass or two. There is Harry the Hat, a pleasant enough fellow who always wears one.

All of them bring their reputations, good or bad.

There is Allan Cole, maker of the ever-popular AC plug. Cole, according to some, is notorious for waiting for someone else to catch a big fish and then setting up a trolling pattern around the fisherman’s boat, hoping to lure the other fish away.

When an angler caught an 18-pounder recently, it was reported in several outdoor publications that the fish had taken an AC plug. But then someone else claimed to have seen the fish being caught on something else. Cole’s integrity had been questioned yet again.

The Lancaster angler, who maintains that there is a conspiracy against him in his efforts to promote his lure, which does catch big fish, denied any wrongdoing.

But then, paranoia runs deep in a bass fisherman’s world.

It is a world of cliques and carefully guarded secrets. Everyone is suspicious of everyone else and accusations fly like bass lures on any given day at the lake.

It doesn’t matter what a fisherman says he caught his trophy bass on. Nobody believes him. Not even King.

“We have kids who come in and say they caught their fish on a Worm King (lure) or a TNT lure and all I can do is take their word for it,” he said. “And it’s all horse . . . .”

Shull, who recently moved from Ojai to Oak View to be closer to the lake, admits that there are liars and cheats and realizes that he, like others, has probably been accused of using live trout or shiners--both illegal baits--from time to time.

But he refuses to get caught up in the madness.

“I want no part of it,” he said. “I wish people would just shut up and fish. I don’t care what others use, or what they think.”

The lake, because it has so much hidden structure, is difficult to fish.

“I didn’t catch anything my first few years here,” Shull said. “I just got my skill level up. It’s a completely different type of fishing. You’ve got to learn the structure.”

Shull has learned it well, through experience and with what he considers one of the most valuable secrets of all: an aerial photograph of the lake when it was at an all-time low during the drought. “It gives you a better idea of what’s down there and on how to set up on the spots,” he said.

Shull, who works as skipper of the Pacific Dawn out of Cisco Sportfishing in Oxnard, once caught a 17-pounder from a rental boat. He has caught and released more 10-pound- plus fish than he can count.

He said some days are better than others, but that every day on the water has its moments.

“The day before yesterday, it was weird,” he said. “I mean everything was out. There was deer all over the place, the quail were calling all over the place, the trout were ringing (creating circular wakes) all over the place. Every spot I pulled up on there were bass chasing trout. And like every third cast I’d get whacked by a big fish on these things. I mean you do get small fish on these things, but damn near everything I hooked on these things was a big fish.”

The things Shull spoke of were Worm King lures, huge rubbery gimmicks that resemble trout. The lures, some 8-12 inches long, are so big most people wouldn’t think of using them. Those fishermen, Shull says, with their spinner baits and plastic worms, catch nothing but smaller bass. “Most people don’t believe you can catch them on these; they just don’t believe it,” he said, holding up one of the trout-colored lures.

Within 20 minutes of Shull’s first stop, a bass struck and was reeled in after a fair fight. Shull estimated it at seven pounds. Soon afterward, he pulled in two fish in the 10-pound class.

All three had been taken in an area that seemed deep and without structure, but Shull pointed to a point in the distance and explained that it protruded well beyond where most people think, providing shelter and drop-offs that bass favor.

All three fish had been taken on 25-pound test, much heavier line than that used by conventional bass fishermen. This, Shull said, enables him to reel the lure through the submerged brush, where the bigger bass spend their time waiting for prey.

“If you feel it pull tight a little bit and it feels like brush, just give it a couple of quick turns and scoot it across the brush and a lot of times, right after you come out of the brush you get whacked,” he said.

After getting whacked a few times in one spot, he released the fish where they were caught--he takes fish in to be weighed only if requested by his customer--and then moved on, all the while looking around to see who might be watching.

In one area, where Shull had dropped a small buoy to mark his spot while he drifted in to cast over a submerged point, Cole came by and heaved his lure, snagging it only a few feet from Shull’s buoy.

“I hate losing these things,” Cole said, trying to free his plug.

Shull, obviously displeased, pulled up his marker and moved on.

He moved from spot to spot, pointing at hidden structure as if he could see through the dark green water. And although not all spots produced, enough did for Shull to proclaim it yet another memorable day.

Indeed, seven largemouth bass weighing from six to 13 pounds had been landed--and released.

Back at the marina, Shull told anyone who asked that the fish had been caught on eight- and 10-inch Worm Kings.

Not that any of them believed him.