Bill Cochran

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A two-page insert in the January issue of the Smith Mountain Striper Club Bulletin contains an account by Stu Tinney of a controversial striped bass tournament he staged on Smith Mountain Lake in 1980. When Tinney mentions that he was hampered by “uneducated outdoor writers,” he is talking about me.

Tinney operated an organization called Striper that was headquartered in Nashville, Tenn. He was holding tournaments across the country where landlocked striped bass populations had been established.

He coveted Smith Mountain Lake because outdoor magazines had been touting it as one of the top-10 striper lakes in the world. The 20,000-acre impoundment had an abundance of forage fish and a pump-storage operation that oxygenated deep-water areas, giving it the kind of rich habitat that was perfect for newly stocked stripers.

Many of the lake’s anglers were adamantly opposed to Tinney’s plan for a tournament. Or anyone else’s. They genuinely thought competition would add more pressure to a fishery that already was beginning to show signs of decline.

To others it was more philosophy than biology. They thought that money competition distorted the spirit and ethics of angling and that tournaments would breed still more tournaments.

I quoted opponents who said that Tinney had no right to make money off a public resource paid for by anglers.

Col. Leo Bourassa, who operated a fishing camp on the lower end of the lake, called Tinny a “carpet bagger” and led opposition to the tournament. A strong-willed man, Bourassa was a member of the Smith Mountain Lake Association, whose several hundred members took court action in an effort to stop the event.

That got nowhere when Department of Game and Inland Fisheries’ officials stated that it was impossible to say a single tournament would damage the fishery. Fish officials did establish six rules that Tinny would have to abide by.

The uproar did not deter Tinney. Opponents were galled when a picture in his association magazine showed Tinney holding a striped bass above a caption that said: “Don’t feel guilty about not releasing stripers.” At that time, many anglers were purists to the point that they used artificial lures only and released everything they caught.

Tensions grew as the September event approached. In his recent insert, Tinney said there were death threats “and not many people braved the threatened violence, perhaps 50 or 60 folks.”

My records show only 33 contestants showed up. Most were from outside the region. Tinney had predicted 200 to 300, blaming the poor turnout on adverse publicity. He threatened to sue the lake association, but didn’t.

Only 15 fish were entered, some just 4 pounds. The winning catch weighed 15 pounds, 7 ounces and was posted by a participant who was cited by game wardens for exceeding his limit.

Tinney recalls that there were police helicopters flying over the lake, but in reality the aircraft was a fixed-wing, Game Commission pontoon plane normally used for waterfowl patrols in the eastern marshes. He was correct when he said that it seemed as if “every water ways patrol officer in the state was on the lake.”

I calculated that there were 25 Game Commission officials monitoring the tournament, nearly one per contestant.

Tinney pictures himself as standing against great odds, and you must admit that he displayed tenacity. In reality, the odds he faced simply were anglers concerned about the well-being of a fish that they held in great respect.

Looking back, no one needs to apologize for being protective of this gift from the sea that was landlocked in Virginia when Kerr Dam was built on the Roanoke River. Virginia was only the second place, next to Santee-Cooper, S.C., where landlocked striped bass reproduction occurred. The result was a source of fingerlings for Smith Mountain Lake, although a precarious source at times.

Tinney has written a book on his angling adventures. It does not mention the Smith Mountain caper. Titled “Life’s No Fun Until You Get Your Feet Wet,” Tinney said he will be donating his royalties to the Smith Mountain Striper Club through Feb. 15.