One fishing trip, during the early summer of 1979, would change my fishing patterns completely. My Uncle, George Alvin Pyland, better known as Unkie, Dave Miller, a friend, and I, in my new seventeen foot, deep vee, packing an eighty five horse outboard, were heading in after a morning of fishing around Swan Lake, east of the Galveston Causeway.

We headed under the big bridges of the Causeway and were preparing to turn east into the channel to the Pleasure Island Bait camp, when Dave said, “Look at those new channel markers going toward Tiki Island and Jones Lake.” We turned west into the new channel and started a little exploring, not knowing of the changes that it would bring to our fishing.
Unkie said he had fished Jones Lake once and remembered it being shallow. Dave said it was new to him, so we followed the new channel markers; bamboo poles with flags on them, stuck into the sandy bottom and cruised under the Tiki Island Bridge. Tiki Island, at the time, was a new bay home development, and has since grown into a large, up scale community (with permanent channel markers).

Entering lower Jones Lake, we idled the motor and slowly headed toward some low lying islands and reefs that ran southeast to northwest and bisected the main section of the lake. Two of these islands had small, crude, fishing shacks built up on pilings, very basic accommodations that four years later, in 1983, would be blown away by Hurricane Alicia.

The lake is not big, probably five square miles. Not deep, probably five feet at its deepest, but the bottom, in 1979, was studded with live oyster reefs and clumps of grass. Now, most of the grass is gone but some live reefs still remain.

We headed toward the second island/reef, just about in the middle of the lake, and I said,
“We’ve got some dead shrimp, let’s try a few casts.” Starting our drift in almost four feet of water, little did I know that my first cast would change my fishing tactics for the next twenty-six years.

My popping cork hit the water and within a minute, the cork started moving slowly to my right, against the incoming tide, and Unkie said, “It’s a red, give him a second to get the bait in his mouth good. Now hit him hard!” Which I did, getting a good set on the small hook, and the red took off, almost spooling my Ambassadeur 5000C that was packed with fifteen pound, line.

To get some line back, Dave started the boat and the chase was on. What a fight, long runs, swirls at the top of the water, head shaking, which was really the red trying to rub the hook out of its jaw on the bottom, and finally we got it to the side of the boat and it was too big for the landing net, so Unkie got a good hold behind its gills and heaved it aboard.

Unkie holds up the big redfish, thirty-three inches long and we estimated that it weighed fifteen pounds. That day I caught one more, red twenty-nine inches long. This was all before a twenty to twenty-eight inch slot limit was set for the finny battlers.

For the foreseeable future, I was hooked on Jones Lake!

Selection of the cane pole is the main element in the manufacture of a proper jigging pole. It must be a minimum of sixteen feet long, with plenty of whip or bend, with a slight downward curve at the tip.

Wrapping the pole with sixty pound, test, braided fishing line is next. The wrap should begin about three feet from the butt end of the pole and include a wrap every six inches. To hold the wrap in place, every eighteen to twenty-four inches tie a half-hitch knot in the line around the pole and continue the wrapping. The last two feet of the pole, the wraps should be not more than two inches apart, with a secure knot tied on the tip, but leave the tag end of the line hanging down below the tip.

Eight inches below the tip attach the first hook. The hooks can be one of several sizes, but, to prevent straightening, must be steel, long shank type. When the first hook is attached, clip the line below the hook, then slip another hook of the same size over the point of the first hook, slide it to the hook’s curve and then crimp it on.

Just before fishing, attach two pork rinds, spotted green works best. Attach the first rind to both hooks then attach the second rind to the bottom hook only.

For best results, press the rod butt along the bottom of your forearm, grasp the pole securely and gently tap, tap tap, the rod tip on the surface and you’ll notice that the tip makes dimpled, circles in the water. That’s the right way. The bait jumps and slides below the surface and the fish will explode into the bait. There is no hook setting, just holding on to the pole. Then hand over hand on the pole until the fish can be reached then net or jerk it into the boat.

This is a two, person job, one jigging the other driving and a skiff is the ideal boat. Propulsion of the skiff can be provided by paddle or electric motor. Just be sure the propeller doesn’t bang into too many limbs or stumps.

When Buck and I jigged it was usually around the edges of a pond or lake in water from one foot to four. Don’t hesitate to fish over an area two or three times, because Buck believed that a bass would finally hit the bait out of frustration! Once, on a bet, he and I fished around the stumps on Lake Sam Rayburn’s south side in up to twenty feet of water and hammered the bass. He won the bet!

Now, the hardest part of all may be finding the right Calcutta, cane pole, or even finding one!

Slowly tapping the sixteen foot, Calcutta, cane pole tip on the surface, the bait, two pork rinds, attached to two hooks, seemed to slide and jump, just under water, beside the dead tree. An explosion on the surface, bigger than a “blow up”, and the big strike bent the long pole over half way down into the water. The pole sizzled through the water as the fish ran in a wide circle around the aluminum skiff.

Unceremoniously, hand over hand, I brought the big, bass to the surface, jerked it into the skiff, smiled and held it up for Buck to see. He said, returning my smile, “Boy, you handled the jigger pole just right!” The bass was over six pounds and a personal best for my attempts at jigging.

An eight, pound, bass was the best that I ever witnessed him catching. Buck said that his most exciting jigging event was in South Carolina when he caught an alligator, and in his words, “I quickly let go of the pole and let the ‘gator worry about it.”

He had learned this unique, fishing technique, jigging, and the manufacture of the equipment from, of all things, an old Indian (native American type). This same old Indian made a poultice to cure Buck’s numerous sore throats, Buck drank the potion and passed out from the taste and the “fire” in the mix, but after he awoke, he never had a sore throat again. It probably just ate out his tonsils!

Before WW II, Buck, my former father-in-law, lived in South Carolina, across the Cooper River from Charleston. Buck was a wild thing then, a Klansman, a former professional boxer, a tailor and a hunting and fishing guide. He once guided Nash Buckingham, maybe the best bob white, quail shot ever, on a duck and goose hunt on Currituck Sound, in North Carolina.

Buck perfected his jigging techniques in the numerous ponds and irrigation ditches in the South Carolina lowlands. He was an expert with a cane pole, jigging for fish, primarily for bass, but anything in fresh water, even alligators, will hit a jigged lure. The secret that he passed on to me, was in the manufacture and preparation of the cane pole, hooks and pork rind baits.

“Rigging Up For Jigging” will be posted on June 30.