Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, June 29, 1993 TAG: 9306290033
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: RANDY UDAVCAK STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
While the anglers ranged from seasoned fishermen to toddlers with cane poles, most had one thing in mind: a little fish named Sly Sam and the $5,000 reward for reeling him in.
In addition to the specially tagged fish, the Christiansburg radio station offered trophies and cash awards for the biggest fish caught in several categories in adult and junior divisions.
The event also included a lake cleanup. Employees at WJJJ had scattered more than 40 plastic, 2-liter "treasure bottles" over the lake that could be redeemed for prizes including T-shirts and fishing equipment, provided they were turned in with a full bag of trash.
Well before many of the participants in the all-day event arrived, Geoff Grubb of Blacksburg and his fiancee, Connie Taylor, were readying their secret weapon.
"It's called a `jig 'n' pig,' " explained Grubb, as he held up a large lure with a piece of pork fastened to the back. For her part, Taylor was less than impressed. "It smells awful," she said.
Despite such careful preparation, however, Grubb spoke in measured tones when asked about his chances of catching Sly Sam. "I won't hold my breath."
Larry Porterfield of Blacksburg was even less optimistic. "The odds would probably be better of hitting the lottery than catching that fish," he said.
WJJJ Marketing Manager Ron Dayle had an explanation: "Big lake, small fish."
In fact, in the five years that a tagged fish has been released, no one has caught it the day of the tournament. The station does offer a consolation prize for anyone who catches Sly Sam up until Labor Day, however; this has happened twice in the past.
Whatever the chances of winning the prize money, there was no lack of enthusiasm as the boats gathered at the dock near the gazebo below Howe House awaiting the start of the day's events.
At 8 a.m., Dee Strauss, WJJJ's tournament director, boomed the countdown over the microphone. At the count of three, the still of the morning was shattered as engines roared to life with a spray of white water. Boats hurtled off in every direction. Within minutes, each had claimed its spot, and the familiar whiz of spinning reels was heard in every nook and cranny of the lake as lures and live bait were sent arcing through the air.
More than 250 competitors registered for the tournament, using every conceivable type of bait and equipment. While some fished off boats with digital depth finders and exotic bait, others stood on shore and made do with the basic hook-and-worm approach.
Soon the WJJJ remote setup was operating, and the low drone of outboard motors combined with the sounds of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young crooning "Woodstock."
While a fishing trophy eluded Porterfield, he and his wife, Marie, and son Andy did bring back a boat full of trash and three treasure bottles for which they won several prizes, including a new rod-and-reel set for 8-year-old Andy.
By midday, it was clear that Robert and Jason Puckett of Tazewell were down on their luck. "We haven't caught anything of any size," said Robert with a shrug.
Paul Green and son Ben, 10, of Abingdon had similar luck on another part of the lake, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves, judging by the grins on their faces.
For others, the competition seemed unimportant in the midst of beautiful weather. Fishing poles were conspicuously absent on a boat shared by Suzanne Jones and Junior Williams as they dropped anchor in the middle of the lake.
"We're just out here enjoying the sunshine," said Jones.
The same was true on board a red speedboat drifting along with a light breeze. The crew of Tim Goetz and Jim Gilbert of Radford, along with Wendy Pledger of Woodbridge and Ursula Lamb-Zeller of McLean, passed the time under the afternoon sun playing cards.
Still others focused on collecting trash. Mark Simmons of Charlottesville, along with his friend Lee Grant of Florida, towed an enormous chunk of driftwood behind their boat. "We're just trying to clean it up a little bit."
At 3:30, all boats headed back to shore, burdened with stringers of fish and bags of trash.
After the fish weigh-in, a hush fell over the crowd as the winners were announced.
There were trophies and money for those who reeled in big fish and bigger fish, but no one had reeled in the fish worth $5,000.
Afterward, the fish were released back into the lake.
The boats were loaded back onto their trailers, and equipment was packed away amid tales of the big one that got away.
As anglers of all ages exchanged stories, one thing was clear: Some would be back before Labor Day, knowing that somewhere out there, still at large, was a fish called Sam.
by CNB