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THE OUTDOORS : Going Fishing Is Their Day’s Work : These Anglers Are Trying to Make a Living by Searching for the Bass of Least Resistance

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Times Staff Writer

John Bedwell of Stockton remembers the day, 13 years ago, when he became a professional bass fisherman.

“A guy came into my (service) station with this Chrysler bass boat. I said, ‘Geez, what kind of boat is that?’ He says, ‘That’s a bass boat. I’m a professional bass fisherman. I fish tournaments.’

“I said, ‘No kiddin’. I wanna go with you.’

“So he took me out one time for a club tournament, and we were almost late, had to race back (for the weigh-in), and the adrenaline was pumping. He got first and I got third, and I was hooked.”

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Bedwell, 39, and his peers are not commercial fishermen. They don’t sell what they catch. They don’t even keep it. They fish like other recreational fishermen, only harder and better. And under a lot more pressure.

Did you ever need to catch a fish to pay the rent? Bedwell did.

“I was fishing a big tournament in 1981 and doing lousy, right down to the last day of the tournament,” he said. “At that time my wife was pregnant and wasn’t real sure about me fishing and was really on my case, telling me how I shouldn’t be there. Things were getting tough.

“Next day I went out with a spinning rod, four-pound test line and a little 3 1/2-inch worm. About 2 o’clock in the afternoon I still didn’t have anything, and I’m thinking my wife is right. I just made a cast (toward) the bank and caught a 6.22-pounder. It was the big fish of the tournament. I won a $15,000 boat and about $2,000 in prize money.”

Such are the fortunes of fishing. Bedwell sold his station.

“And now my wife thinks this is the greatest thing in the world,” he said.

“One cast! One cast turned it around for me.”

There are several pro bass fishing circuits in the Western United States, with competition within a day’s drive virtually every weekend. They include West Coast Bass, the Red Man Tournament Trail, sponsored by a tobacco company; WON BASS, sponsored by Western Outdoor News, and U.S. Bass.

The purses are still less than princely. First place is usually worth $5,000 or $6,000, but most events are geared to weekends so competitors can hold regular jobs, which most of them need.

Unless they can win one of the circuit’s major events--$60,000 cash for the West Coast Bass Invitational, or $35,000 in cash and prizes--i.e., a boat--which Jerry Tilton of Orangevale, Calif., won in the West Coast Bass Classic here last month--they need to place in the top 10 any weekend to pay expenses.

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Most of the anglers are men--three women compete regularly on the West Coast Bass circuit, none from Southern California--and most of them aspire to compete in the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society (BASS), which has run the BASSMASTERS Tournament Trail through the South for 22 years and pays more than $100,000 to winners of its major events.

By the time an angler gets together a boat, motor and tow vehicle, expenditures total about $35,000, and entry fees are about $500 for each event.

“In the old days, we used to camp,” Bedwell said. “We didn’t even have a van. It was tough. If you don’t feel like you should be there, if you feel like you should be home working, then you’re not going to catch any, anyway, ‘cause your mind’s somewhere else.”

Bedwell smiled.

“At the awards, you’ll hear whoever wins get up and say, ‘You know, it’s not really the money. It’s having the respect of my peers and the fishing industry,’ and all that.

“Well, that’s important to me, too, but you can’t put that in the bank. If we go to a tournament and we don’t place, the guy will say, ‘Well, you got good points toward the end of the year classic,’ but you can’t put those points in the bank, either.”

Yeah, but what a life, right?

Bedwell stared.

“My friends and neighbors and relatives all say, ‘Oh, what a great job. You go out and fish for eight hours and get $12,000 for winning.’

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“They don’t see the eight hours of preparation, the three days of traveling to the lake, three days home. It’s 110 degrees in my garage and I’m out there servicing the boat, putting line on rods the whole day.

“For every day of fishing, there are two days of preparation.”

It’s 4 a.m. in the parking lot of the Golden Spike Inn and Casino near Boulder City, Nev., up the hill from Lake Mead. The 31 anglers who won the 76 events on the West Coast Bass circuit the past year are already in their boats, on the trailers, but they have all had a good night’s sleep, ignoring the bright lights and gaming tables.

Soon, the boats are towed to the lake to be launched. Dawn’s early light reflects off the water as the boats--all 18-foot Rangers with 150-horsepower Yamaha engines lent for the event--line up three abreast alongside the dock, in order of their starting draw. An official observer is aboard each boat to guard against cheating.

The national anthem plays over a loudspeaker, then Doug Pieper, assistant tournament director, bellows--honest, he does--”Gentlemen, start your engines!”

They must all return by 3 p.m. to weigh their catches, which are limited to five fish on each of the two days. Most will arrive near the marina a few minutes early and continue fishing, even if they have their limits, hoping for a big one to replace a smaller one. Total weight for two days wins.

All of the fish are kept in “live” wells aboard the boats and returned to the lake at the end of the day. West Coast Bass held three straight tournaments at one point last year without killing a single fish.

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The first-day leader is a veteran, Dee Thomas of Brentwood, whose practice two days earlier has paid off. Thomas motored 185 miles around the lake, refueling twice, but checking every hole possible.

But luck deserts him the next day and he places 15th overall.

“Luck in tournament bass fishing is not having bad luck,” Bedwell said. “Luck is when you do make that cast and get that 6.22 on four-pound test line, that he doesn’t jump and throw the hook out, or have your rod break or your engine break.”

This is the life Jay Yelas of Phoenix, at 23 one of the younger pros, has chosen since graduating from Oregon State with a degree in fisheries biology two years ago. Yelas has been about the hottest thing going in the West the last year. He will be competing in the WON BASS Open and the Nevada BASSMASTER Invitational next week, both on Lake Mead.

“I’ve used the West like a minor league in baseball to get a lot of experience and make a little money and gain a lot of confidence,” he said, “and then next year I plan on going back East and fishing some of the BASS tournaments. That’s kind of the big leagues of bass fishing.”

Don Iovino of Burbank disagreed.

“I don’t believe it’s stepping up to the major leagues,” Iovino said. “I think we’re the major leagues here, too. The one thing they have that we don’t have is a well-run tournament organization and a lot of press and TV. If you have that, you have money. We have just as good fishermen in the West as anywhere.”

But Iovino, who once quit a career as an aircraft mechanic to fish full time, has his own related fishing businesses to support himself and is heavily sponsored--witness the accumulation of patches on his shirt. He conceded that prize money isn’t large.

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“I’ve probably won in the course of my fishing career about $210,000, and I’ve won about everything there is to win,” he said. “I’ve been fortunate. But the sport in the last two years has been climbing fast. We’re starting to get national attention now.”

Yelas won about $60,000 last year. “But it cost me $30,000 to compete,” he said.

Even for the big winners, a boat, rather than cash, makes up most of the purse, but a good bass boat, with its motor, trailer and electronic fish-finding gear, costs $20,000 or more. The anglers usually dispose of them at a discount.

“I had four boats at one time last year,” Yelas said.

Do pro fishermen have any secrets?

Bedwell says an angler must understand that fish aren’t necessarily stupid.

“They’re just like people,” he said. “Some of ‘em have higher IQs than others. That’s how they get big.”

Yelas attributes much of his early success to Bill Sedar, 75, who has been fishing man-made Lake Cachuma near Santa Barbara since it opened and “knows more about largemouth bass than anybody I’ve ever met.

“It’s hard for young people to get involved because financially it’s draining,” he said. “It takes all of your resources.

“You have to give up practically everything to get your foot in the door.”

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