By Caleb McClain
“Thou shalt not eat largemouth bass.” Based on the sheer volume of times I have heard this sentiment repeated, I’m almost certain Moses ran out of room on his tablets, or else that would have certainly made the 11th spot.
Perhaps my favorite activity within the sport of bass fishing is trolling. By trolling, I am not talking about letting out lines behind my boat while I cruise the shallows for hungry fish but rather online trolling when the day is done. Few things bring me greater joy than seeing images of people posing with their lunkers next to the cleaning station posted on social media with an irate crowd of commentators asking why they did not simply throw that “breeder” back. How did we get to this point though?
Every state with a largemouth population (and smallmouth for that matter) has agreed that you can take several fish from most ponds, rivers, and lakes without damaging the population. While the exact number can vary based on the specific body of water, all states have agreed that the general number should sit between five and ten fish per day. It makes sense too. Bass are prolific breeders, and they often sit in an apex predator seat in the ecosystems they inhabit. It logically follows that bass populations should be controlled, no different than those of land-based predators like coyotes. Still, the social pressure for having as many bass as possible in a body of water persists, as it has for over 50 years.
Don’t Kill Your Catch
Bass fishing was historically viewed as another way to fill the freezer. In fact, when George Perry caught the record 22.25-pound largemouth on Lake Montgomery in 1932, he was just planning to eat it until his buddy told him about the potential grand prize of $75 worth outdoor gear for Field & Stream’s annual big fish contest, and he still ate it after the weight was recorded. Bass tournaments operated the same way: you would catch your five fish, put them on a stringer, weigh them, then fillet them.
Ray Scott saw things differently. As an avid bass fisher from Alabama, he saw the staggering number of post-tournament fish fries as a hinderance to the sport. In all fairness, I understand the sentiment. More dead big fish means less big fish for the next weekend out. After founding the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society (B.A.S.S.) and the Bassmaster tournaments in the late 1960s, Scott introduced the concept of catch-and-release under the slogan “Don’t Kill Your Catch” in 1972. Requiring boats in his tournaments to be equipped with fancy aerated tanks that we now call live wells, the practice soon became standard procedures for all tournaments, then progressed from there. Pretty soon, bass anglers became almost as annoying as fly fishermen about releasing fish.
From the growth of this practice came the lies. Statements such as “bass don’t taste good” or “they all have parasites” became commonly held sentiments. Of course, bass have a flesh that tastes no different than that of many other species, especially if you are just frying them, and all freshwater fish have parasites that are killed in the cooking process. Regardless of the facts, bass were off the menu.
Maybe Kill Some of Them?
It’s a shame, too. While they aren’t the absolute best tasting fish, they certainly aren’t the inedible swill many make them out to be. More importantly, many fisheries not only can support some level of take, but they require it. The carrying capacity of a body of water is based on total biomass, not population. That means that if a lake can only sustain a certain biomass of bass, say 1,000 pounds, it does not matter if this is achieved by having 200 five-pound bass or 1,000 one-pounders. Once carrying capacity is achieved, the weight of fish does not increase at normal rates, and the fish are “stunted.” When stunting occurs, fish must be removed for the health of the population.
So do what makes you happy—so long as it is legal. If you want to release your bass, that’s great. If not, good for you. I keep some, and I throw some back, more based on my desire to clean them that day. But when I do keep them, I can’t help but smile when a true lunker becomes fish tacos.