Perch in a Poke
It felt like a good fish right from the start. Lifting my rod tip at the strike, I felt solid resistance, then a headshake. Then the perch shot out from deep under the dock where I had hooked it. On its way out, the crafty devil also cornered at the nearest barnacle-encrusted piling and cut the line.
I shook my head and reached for another spinner bait. This wasn’t the first big white perch to have done me dirt that morning. A number of whities finning in our five-gallon bucket were easily over 10 inches, but at least four or five larger perch had already burned us in one fashion or another. These big dock-lurkers were obviously battle tested and savvy in giving even seasoned anglers the slip.
Losing a few fish doesn’t bother me. It just makes me more determined. Besides, I had already realized that I was rigged too light for fishing under these piers. Six-pound mono on a long, light-action spin rod was giving way too much edge to the stocky brawlers lurking inside the forests of barnacled line shredders.
The Dockmaster
-We were fishing the numerous boat docks and piers on the Severn in a way I had never done before, courtesy of an old salt named Woody Tillery. Woody was showing my son, Harrison, and me how to score on jumbo white perch around the shoreline structures, even in what I considered adverse conditions: low water and bright sunshine.