By Mark Taylor

Archives Reprint

    On a pleasant day in late August, Leaha Trew of Santa Rosa, Calif., cast a bass lure toward the shore of California's Spring Lake and hooked into what she thought was a mess of weeds.

    Then the weeds started moving.

    Ten minutes later Trew's son Javad, with whom she was fishing in a 13-foot-long rubber raft, slid the net under a huge largemouth bass.

    The two hurried to shore and, in front of one witness, weighed the bass with a Boga Grip, a nifty device that locks on to the jaws of flopping fish. The scale showed a weight between 22 1/2 and 23 pounds.

    They took one picture with a disposable camera and slid the fish back into the lake.

    Or so the story goes.

    Since Trew's story went public, she has gotten quite a bit of attention.

    The reason?

    The recognized world record for largemouth bass is 22 pounds, 4 ounces, a mark that has stood since George Perry of Georgia caught the fish in 1932.

    Who in their right mind would release a potential world-record bass?

    Someone who didn't know about the record, according to Trew.

    Trew has submitted the catch to the Florida-based International Game Fish Association (IGFA), the primary group that compiles fishing records.

    Officials at the IGFA now must consider Trew's application.

    I hope the consideration consists of looking at the application, laughing heartily, then flushing the piece of paper down the toilet.

    The fish cannot be a world record, should not be a world record, must not be a world record.

    If we were talking about a yellow bullhead, that would be one thing. However, largemouth bass are the most popular game fish in America, and the world record is by far the most sought-after prize in all of fishing.

    The value of catching a record largemouth is hard to fathom. In the hands of the right person - someone who could parlay the catch into endorsements, appearance fees and the like - a record bass could provide for a fine living.

    Plenty of anglers know this, which is why loads of hard-core bass fishermen put a lot of time and energy into chasing the record.

    It's possible that Trew's story is entirely true, but there is too much room for fraud, exaggeration, or simply an innocent mistake to merit changing fishing history.

    The fish wasn't examined by a biologist, a necessary step for any potential record. A biologist not only can confirm that the fish is the species it's believed to be, but can make sure there's nothing funky going on.

    Funky?

    Not long ago a California woman showed up with a giant bass, which turned out to be not so giant when biologists found a 2-pound weight in its gullet.

    The single picture of Trew's fish, which can be seen at flwoutdoors.com, is also troubling. Trew is holding the bass in front of her at arm's length. We all know that can make a fish appear bigger than it really is.

    I took a stab at estimating the fish's length compared to the width Trew's fist. If Trew's fist is 3 inches across - the average I came up after measuring the hands of several female co-workers - the bass is more like 26 1/2 inches long. A trophy, sure, but well short of the 29 inches claimed.

    Yet another weak spot in the story is the witness, who was supposedly picnicking on shore. He's reportedly a friend of Trew's son, and conveniently doesn't know much about fish. In other words, just the kind of person who wouldn't know the difference between a 23-pound bass and an 18-pound bass stuffed with a 5-pound downrigger weight.

    Despite all of the problems with the catch, the Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame officially backed Trew's claim recently.

    The Wisconsin group certified the bass as the 12-pound-test line-class record, although it stopped short of approving the catch as an all-tackle world record.

    So much for that organization's credibility.

    If Trew's story is true, we will probably eventually get proof.

    Spring Lake is small, barely 70 acres, and you better believe it's getting hammered by fishermen. If that bass is still swimming in there, someone's going to catch it.

    So if the lake doesn't produce a huge bass in the next year or so - and I'm betting it won't - we can take Trew's story and do with it what the IGFA should do with her record application.

    File it away as just another fish story.

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