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(Excerpt from The Snowstorm Blitz)
While Zeke was picking up Jack at the ferry, my good friend, Bob
Andrade, hooked up to a nice fish down to my right just before the start of the boulder field. I was 30 feet to his left when I heard him yell for me. I quickly rushed over to him as line peeled off the spool of his Penn 705. I stood by his side and helped coach him through a hookup with the largest bass of his life. Bobby's right leg, which he had appropriately named "thumper," was shaking with anxiety. Bob's fish had taken lots of line and was now well into the boulder field. I followed Bob down the shore as he chased this fish. After 10 minutes I helped him beach a fine bass that ended up pulling the arrow of my hand scale to 49.8 pounds. We tried to coax the extra half-pound out of the scale but it was not to be. Bobby settled for a 49.8. I convinced him to try and revive her for release. Bob agreed and then released the largest striped
bass he had ever caught. Bob still feels great about his decision. I don't believe there was a more grateful caster than Bob Andrade on
Southwest Point that night.
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