STALKING BREAM – The Stealth Factor

Approaching an open-water, tightly-clustered stand of cypress trees in upper Lake Marion on the Santee Cooper lakes, my bream fishing buddy cut the already slow-motoring throttle off, 200 yards from the target. My partner then went old-school, using a custom-built sculling paddle to continue our stealthy approach. As instructed, I prepped my rig without making a sound, and I hunkered down, keeping a low profile.

Standing was forbidden by this bream-master.

All the boat-wake ripples had vanished before reaching the target, the water calm, and the morning sun was breaking the horizon to the east, creating a warm, reddish glow on the tops of the recently greened trees.

Armed with 12-foot limber fiber-glass poles rigged with tiny Thill Mini-Shy floats, BB split shot, and sharp #4 wire hooks, we began pitching crickets in and around the trees. The air stirred a bit; a puff of wind in our faces brought a quick reaction from my fishing partner. As he turned to me and whispered ever so low, “They’re still here.” I caught the same scent he’d recognized.

That wonderful aroma of a bream bed created a quick mental trip to daydream-land for me, a place where my tiny float slips under the surface when placed next to a cypress knee every time I hit the target.

I was brought back to reality when he dropped his rig in the heart of a tiny opening in a group of trees. I watched as the float instantly disappeared. My buddy snapped his wrist, pulled sideways under the branches, solidly hooking the bull bream. He skillfully kept the fish under the water’s surface, ensuring no splash, until he had the long-pole leverage to pop the deep-purple bream out of the water and into his waiting hand. It seemed so natural, as it should for someone who has done it thousands of times.

While he slipped the bream into the icy cooler so the fish could ‘chill’ and not make unnecessary noise, I hooked into big-brother bream. Enjoying the fierce fight of the panfish, I momentarily lost focus, allowing the fish to splash the surface for an instant. I was admonished with a silent stare, followed by a big grin.

“Sometimes they’re going to do what a big bream does,” he said.

My minor miscue didn’t slow the bite, and the morning went as planned, and we’d planned for some great bream action.

It’s spring, and bream are in the shallows throughout Santee Cooper in South Carolina and many are on the beds. Some folks take their bream fishing seriously. In fact, for them, bream fishing is more akin to stalking or hunting wild animals than merely fishing.

This leveling-up practice of doing everything within their control to put the odds in their favor is not an act; it’s a highly focused practice of targeting the biggest and most bream.

These ‘fish-hunters’ practice stealth by reducing noise, as in cutting off their outboard motor long before they get to their ‘hole.’ They’ll employ only an electric motor--or a sculling paddle for hardcore bream busters--to maneuver and keep the boat in prime fishing position.

With the stealth any deer hunter would admire, they silently work along the tree line, weed line, or shoreline, probing every nook and cranny available, precisely and quietly placing the bait or lure on targets. Whether using live bait or artificial lures, they’re searching for the sweet spot; often a tiny target less than a foot in diameter that produces a big load of fat bream.

They make a concerted effort to minimize fish splashing on the surface, trying to slip the fish out of the water with scarcely a ripple. This is a dual-purpose stealth tactic, keeping the bream party private from nearby anglers to avoid unwanted company, and a nod to the shyness of big bream that spook easily in shallow water.

If successful, anglers can often catch several fish from one such hole, and on good days, a couple of anglers can limit out in short order. However, those who take the extra measures to ensure stealth and quietness do have a distinct edge over others banging around in the boat.

I’m old school for much of my fishing, but these skilled anglers have shown me that in certain conditions, employing advanced stealth techniques makes a tangible difference.

Is it necessary? Of course not. But does it matter? Absolutely, because it often gives you the edge.

I bet you know a few bream anglers who are incredibly proficient and consistent in catching big bream, in limit numbers, regardless of conditions. When conditions are ideal, most of us can catch quality bream in respectable numbers. But leveling up requires stealthy action.

If you want to improve bream-catching consistency and increase the size of bream you hook, embrace stealth mode, and as mine did that day, your bream-catching daydreams become reality.