When fishing for striped bass in California, never give up. Just try, try again

My motto keeps dogging me: Never give up.

And lately it feels like I’ve had to keep relearning the same lesson about never quitting.

In August I received a phone call from a guy in Oklahoma who wanted to come out to California in early October for a visit, which included three days of fishing for stripers. Bob and his wife Retha were both retired and avid striper anglers, who had fished all the top Eastern U.S. freshwater and saltwater spots and they loved traveling to new areas to explore. Sounded like a wonderful way to see a lot of new places and catch some big fish.

They were intrigued by the reports about fishing for big stripers at San Luis Reservoir and wanted me to be their guide. They also wanted to see Yosemite and maybe go to the coast, too.

Bob added a challenge: he wanted a shot at breaking his striper personal-best of 40 inches—possible, but improbable if the conditions were adverse.

The wind was so bad on their first day that the lake remained closed all day. It was blowing about 15 mph when we went out the next day, and we ended up plowing through strong 20-25 mph westerlies that threw our wave splash back into the boat all day. We landed about 6-7 decent-sized fish and Bob and Aretha were happy. I later found out that Retha had gotten soaked by the spray but she never complained. I was more determined than ever to try to make our last day the best.

We started at 8 a.m., and the plan was to go until dusk when we had to get off the water. The fish were still recovering from the cold windy period, but I felt that the warming day might reinvigorate the bite. Three hours later and the fish still were not too active — but we slogged on trying all kinds of areas and different trolling lures. We could see fish, but few bites.

As the day wore on, patience became the key as the fish were getting more active. I think I sounded like a broken record, saying “We’ve got to keep fishing hard and hang in there.” Funny, I think they believed me.

It was about 45 minutes before closing time (gate closed) when I decided to move to a new area on a hunch for the last shot.

With 30 minutes to go, it hit. A big strong rip, then the striper took off on a screaming 50-yard run with Bob hanging on for dear life. This was a good fish. We followed the fish as Bob kept the pressure on.

When it came up, I heard Bob gasp.

I netted it, and there were big smiles all around. The striper measured 41 inches and 26.4 pounds — a new personal best.

After pictures, we released it.

Mission accomplished and a dream come true.

Sometimes it’s really hard not keep trying, especially when things look bleak near the end of 10 hours of poor fishing.

It’s funny how the very last 1% of an effort makes the other 99% worthwhile. Not fun, not easy, but once again, the lesson is clear: Never give up.

Roger George: rogergeorge8@protonmail.com, Rogergeorgeguideservice on Facebook and @StriperWars.