Tackle Technology

*This is the third in a series of features detailing significant contributions to the Texas outdoor experience.

Now possessing a valid Medicare card, I am resigned to my geezer status on the water. The passage of time hardly seems possible but the card belongs to me. It's in my wallet, tucked behind the Texas Driver License, the AARP card, and the Texas Concealed Handgun License.

But, as they say, "age has privilege." It provides a seasoned vantage from which to view the changes in coastal fishing which have occurred during the past half-century. Tackle technology, for example.

By "tackle" I refer to the necessary tools of the trade - rods, reels, lines, lures and hooks, the gear specifically required to catch a fish (lumping accessories such as electronic devices, boats and motors would take too much space).

I was a kid during the mid-'50s, but totally hooked on fishing. Encroaching senility aside, I have reasonably good recall of what was going on tackle-wise at that time, the post-World War II start of the "modern era."

The decade was huge: Three major advancements marked the evolution of angling during the Eisenhower administration:

The first was the widespread use of hollow fiberglass rods. Fiberglass rods are heavy and bulky and excruciatingly slow compared to today's sticks, but they were whiz-bang stuff back when Elvis Presley first parked his delivery truck in front of Sun Record Company.

Also worth noting, fiberglass rods were durable and affordable; many were in the $10 to $30 range (compared to $100 or more for a hand-crafted bamboo rod).

The second major advancement was the production of fishing line extruded from a single nylon/polymer strand. I guess you could say the stuff was made of plastic.

By whatever terminology, the revolutionary line was called "monofilament." Leading the push were DuPont Stren, Berkley Trilene, Shakespeare Wonderline, Garcia Platyl and Royal Bonnyl.

The early monofilament lines were springy and stretchy but the "Space Age" material helped launch the popularity of spinning tackle. It was, however, a questionable call for traditional plug casting.

The typical free-wheeling thumb-busting casting reel often backlashed with the springy mono boiling off the spool. Classic bait casting (with, say, a narrow-framed Shakespeare Sportcast or a beefy Pflueger Supreme) was smoother with a limp Dacron or silk braid with no "memory."

But, with monofilament, the writing was on the wall - or spool, as the case may be. Spin fishermen usually used 6- to 12-pound mono, while plug casters beefed up with 17- to 25-pound line. Fifteen-pound mono was considered radically light for casting tackle.

The third big bomb was the introduction at the 1954 New York World's Fair of the Abu Ambassadeur 5000 casting reel. It was manufactured in Svaangsta, Sweden and distributed in the United States by Abu Garcia. I'll go out on a brittle limb and claim that never has a single piece of fishing tackle caused such a stir.

The "Red Reel" was a beauty, utilizing a glowing red anodized frame, a lightweight plastic spool, and nylon gears. It boasted a free-spool mechanism, a centrifugal braking system, an anti-reverse mode, and an adjustable star drag.

But, most important, the 5000 could handle the tricky monofilament lines. You still needed an "educated thumb" but the skilled caster could chunk with ease and elegance. Even 1/4- to 1/2-ounce payloads were no problem (light stuff compared to most 5/8- to 3/4-ounce casting lures of the time).

The original Red Reel was shockingly expensive, retailing for approximately $45 during the late '50s (compared to $10 to $25 for most of the old direct-drive reels), but it was the standard of measure in plug casting.

During the '60s, Texas became the world's largest market for Ambassadeur reels, mainly due to the surging growth of bass fishing in new reservoirs and ideal applications for trout/redfish along the coast. And, on that note, the old Red Reel was rugged and reliable in saltwater.

The drag was sticky and the retrieve ratio was slow (less than 4-to-1), but it had loose tolerances and with a quick flushing and oiling you generally could keep it firing.

No major advancements in fishing tackle occurred during the '60s. Seems odd, and maybe I'm overlooking something significant, but that's my take on the decade.

The industry mainly was focused on making proven concepts better. Hollow fiberglass rods by companies such as Shakespeare, Garcia, and Browning/SilaFlex got better. The Red Reel continued to dominate plug casting and the Garcia Mitchell 300 was pretty much the gold standard in open-faced spinning reels (push button spincasters were partial to the Zebco 33 and the Shakespeare WonderCast).

Mono lines improved, with less stretch and memory, and braids were a thing of the past in light-tackle casting.

Perhaps the biggest push during the late '60s was the popularity of soft plastic baits, but most of this bottom-bumping attention was focused on bass fishing. The bullet weight and the offset worm hook and the "Texas rig" became a big deal on new lakes such as Toledo Bend and Sam Rayburn; oddly, the major crossover of soft plastics to saltwater failed to happen.

Texas definitely was asleep at the wheel - and reel - on that one.

The 1970s were more progressive. Two advancements occurred during the decade. The first - a monster - was the introduction of hollow graphite rod blanks. But the early material was stiff and brittle, subject to unexpected breaks, and you could hear snapping tips from Lake Livingston all the way to the Laguna Madre.

Fenwick of Seattle, Wash., set the bar with the High Modulus Graphite(HMG) series of rods in 1973. Fenwick had a great product and the marketing savvy to target specific species; not the least of these were the two-handed 7- and 7 1/2-foot casting models aimed at speckled trout and redfish.

Numerous companies soon offered graphite rods and subsequent "generations" became lighter and stronger, but few experts will argue that Fenwick HMG made it happen. By the end of the '70s fiberglass blanks effectively were dead.

The other huge hit during the '70s was - finally - the widespread use of soft plastic baits in saltwater. Prior to the "rubber" invasion, the salty plugger had two basic choices on a green tide: a spoon or a sub-surface plug such as a MirrOlure or a Bingo.

Boone Bait Company of Winter Park, Fla., started the soft plastic craze in Texas with the Tout Tail, a stubby shrimptail imitation rigged onto a lead jig head with a large single hook. The Tout was the trickle that turned into a flood; within several years, saltwater tails were on virtually every tackle shelf from Sabine Lake to South Padre Island.

All were "killer baits" and by the end of the '70s probably half the specks and reds caught on lures in Texas were gobbling soft plastics.

The decade of the '80s was marked by low-profile reels and high-floating lures.

The concept of the round reel frame, which dates to the original Kentucky casting reels of the 1800's, was championed by the Ambassadeur 5000. It just "looked right." The design was tweaked here and there (thumb bar for free-spool mode, faster retrieve ratio, magnetic anti-backlash device), but the classic round profile remained essentially the same.

The Shimano Corporation of Japan blew that traditional mindset out of the water by offering sleek low-profile casting reels. They were easier to "palm" and designed for lighter (say, 10- to 15-pound) lines. The little reels such as the Pro Bantam series were stylish, fast and dependable, pretty well beating Ambassadeur at its own free-wheeling game.

Other reel companies countered with similar low-profile products, some more reliable than others. But few, if any, could equal Shimano. A few round-framed reels still are available, and the good ones are functional and reliable, but the low-profile concept dominates.

And so do topwater plugs for specks and reds. Oddly, the floaters were used many years ago in various Texas bays but fell from grace during the '60s and '70s. They were acknowledged as legitimate options in the shallow, grassy lower Laguna Madre but you never saw one north of Rockport. At least, I never did. Galveston Bay - forget it.

The first floater to regain widespread acceptance was Cotton Cordell's Jointed Red Fin. The so-called "broken back" is, in fact, a floater/shallow-diver but most of the boiling, slashing strikes are visible. The original Red Fin was, of course, a bass lure.

So was the Heddon Zara Spook, the father of the wildly popular "dog walker" genre of true topwater plugs.

Once coastal anglers discovered these zigzagging offerings were highly effective across a calm or riffled bay surface, the rush was on. Plugs such as the Rebel Jumpin' Minnow and the MirrOlure Top Dog were early standouts. You probably need a calculator to list the current lineup of dogwalkers (probably led by Rapala's Skitter Walk), but the momentum began with bass plugs in the '80s.

The '90s were marked by advancements in fishing lines and hooks.

The big news on the spool was the refinement of the so-called "superbraids." Spectra (Dyneema) was one of the first. The gel-spun polyethylene braids boast superior strength-to-diameter ratio; for example, a 50-pound-test superbraid is comparable to 15-pound mono.

Perhaps more important during normal open-water casting is the lack of stretch and the absence of memory. A drawback to some of the early superbraids was a raspy feel under the thumb - not pleasant to throw. It even sounded harsh. And, under heavy spool pressure, the coils had a bad knack of digging and jamming.

I used early superbraids during the'90s for peacock bass in the Amazon and did not like them. They were a work in progress - no stretch and plenty strong but stiff and wiry. Quality mono was much more pleasant.

Superbraids are much better now, and a quality gel-spun line is an excellent choice for low-stretch applications such as deep jigging or working a topwater plug. So, by the way, is the old Dacron; funny the way things sometimes have a way of going around.

Adding a short length of clear leader to the terminal braid adds a measure of finesse under high-visibility conditions. On that note, fluorocarbon (Polyvinylidene fluoride) made a big splash during the '90s.

Fluorocarbon is durable and more-or-less disappears under water. It's expensive and a total re-fill usually is a waste of money. When plug casting, use the "fluoro" in a short length for a shock leader ahead of braid or lighter mono.

Hooks made a point during the '90s. Quality bait, jig, and plug hooks by companies such as Eagle Claw, Owner, and Gamakatsu boasted "chemically sharpened" points. I'm clueless as to how this is done, but a chemically treated point sticks like a needle and resists turning or dulling,

Truly, this a significant upgrade. Rule One: None of the other gear counts for much if a lousy hook figures into the contest over a fish of consequence.

Years ago, a fine-toothed file was used to "triangulate" the point. A true effort allowed the point to hang on a thumbnail. Filing worked but it was a major hassle; in truth, we hardly ever screwed with it (especially on trebles). Old Man Gulf only knows how many big fish were forfeited by this lax attitude.

Now you can get thumbnail-quality points right out of the box.

The acceptance of circle hooks also took off, mainly when fishing with natural baits for larger inshore species such as tarpon and bull redfish, and offshore species such as red snapper (now required by law). The circle hook has been used for decades, perfected by commercial longliners, and sport anglers finally figured out that a fish is a fish. In other words, what works on a trawler can work in a Whaler.

The circle hook has two advantages, assuming you don't panic and jerk like a "J" hook rookie: Most fish hook themselves, and most hooks are planted in the jaw. The latter is ironic, considering the commercial origin, but rarely is a fish deep-hooked. They can be cleanly released.

The '90s also saw the rise of soft-plastic, slow-sinking plugs, notably Paul Brown's Corky. Brown, of Houston, created the "soft twitch bait" some years earlier, fiddling here and tweaking there, but supplies were limited and few anglers knew much about them.

A select crew of big-trout specialists started chunking Corky plugs on shallow flats and the lid blew off in '96, when Jim Wallace used one to catch the 13-pound, 11-ounce state record from Baffin Bay.

The typical Corky retrieve is slow and deliberate, but the payoff can be huge. One of the first times I used one, down on the Laguna Madre, I saw a long silver flash as the plug meandered across a sand pothole. The rod surged down and 12-pound line spun from the reel.

The good news is, the fish taped 31 inches. The bad news, it was a redfish. But, trout or reds, the slow-sinking, soft-plastic plugs are great. I prefer the Corky Fat Boy, which resembles a chubby shad rather than a finger mullet. You can mix the retrieve, dog-walking on top as well as stuttering at mid-depth.

The Corky craze spawned other soft-plastic plugs as well as a variety of slow-sinking, shallow-running "hard" plugs - the MirrOlure Catch 2000 being a top-tray example.

The latest tackle trend probably would be the tremendous success of scent-impregnated soft "tails." The Berkley Gulp! products lead the charge. They are nasty to deal with, packaged in an odoriferous sauce, but they are effective.

I guess, technically, you would have to call them "lures," but that may be stretching it. Put it this way; when I'm reaching for a tub of greasy, smelly Gulp! tails, I certainly don't look down at the guy rigging with a live shrimp. At least, on a slow day, he can eat his bait.

In recent years, not much innovation has hit the tackle shelves. Mostly, it's been refinements of existing concepts (similar in that respect to the long-ago '60s). And maybe that's just as well. We have a wealth of excellent gear.

And, after more than 50 years of following tackle trends, I've come to the odd conclusion that maybe it can be a mistake to get too good at catching fish. If every cast produced a fish - well, think about it.