The fog was just beginning to lift when Dr. Jimmy, “The Hook” Morris, set the hook. I knew immediately, he was into a possible record.

Monday, August 5, was some bad foggy. We put the boat in Percy Priest, just at dawn. Or it would have been dawn if it had not been so foggy. I could not see to run.

Had I been on land, I could not have been able to see to walk. So, I putt-putted out to a rock pile with which I have become intimate.

“The Hook” almost immediately lost a bass right at the boat. I felt that was too easy. You are supposed to work for fish. So, I moved the boat. I took a compass bearing and we began to resume putt-putting.

Unfortunately, the bearing I took was exact opposite of the one I should have taken. Fortunately, due to great familiarity with Priest, I knew where we were.

But there were not any fish, there. So I took a new compass bearing and actually got where I wanted to be. And we began to catch a few fish.

I was just recovering from the battle with 3.54-pound smallmouth and was catching my breath.

The fog was slowly lifting and “The Hook” went to work. I watched amazed at his classic rod handling as he brought the leviathan to the boat.

No question -- lake record and possibly a state record . . . for the smallest bass to ever hit a lure.

Then, it got real dark.

See, what happened was, I joined Mark “Big Bird” Campbell on a night fishing adventure on the Caney Fork River. At dark-thirty on August 7, it was some foggy.

Fog seems to follow me. In fact, I have spent a great deal of my life, in a fog. But we launched our Caney boat at the dam.

We had three-dozen little bitty, slippery minnows, a floating light, some Milky Way candy bars, water and more than several different forms of lights.

The action was almost non-start. The continuous lack of any fish, caused me to eat a few Milky Ways.

After about three days, I managed to lose a walleye right at the boat. We were anchored in 23.6 feet of water on the edge of one of our secret holes. And most of the time, I was bored to the point of being bad-sleepy.

Then I caught one very small walleye.

After a bit perhaps an hour or less. Big Bird caught one. It was also quite small but nothing to match Dr. Jimmy “The Hook” Morris’ record. And then, for no particular reason, I caught one more and the dramatic action stopped completely.

Then a light beam came down from a UFO and somebody started hollering to some guy named Scotty.

So me and the Bird, took a dead reckoning and dodging some blind bats, we headed for the ramp and come on over home about midnight.

I’m probably not going to fish the Caney at night any time soon.

In fact, it looks like a bunch of surgeons are going to have to open me up and repair a bunch of my innards.

I may be either, just going in, just coming out or recovering from a stay in the hospital.

But I’ll be back in action, soon.

In the meantime, don’t bother fishing the Caney at night.

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