Amid another gorgeous summer sunrise in downtown Little Rock
at the Bassmaster Elite Series tournament, tough fishing, hot weather and temperamental
trolling motors put tension in the humid air hanging in the launch harbor.
Like yesterday when Kevin VanDam willingly changed-out Davy
Hite’s hooks moments before the first cast of the day, the brotherhood that’s
as much a part of this sport as high horsepower outboards became hugely
apparent once again.
Far beyond their mutual residency in “The Palmetto State”
South Carolina pros Marty Robinson and Casey Ashley share a lot in common.
Seldom will you see one without the other. Not only are they traveling
roommates on tour, they also convoy their Toyota Tundras from one tournament to
the next, and can often be found picking guitar and singing country music to
relax after a long day on the water. Plus, both have a penchant for laughing
out loud.
But at 6:30 this morning, nobody was singing or laughing
when Robinson discovered moments before blast-off that his trolling motor had
no juice. Robinson is in contention to make his first Bassmaster Classic in
five grinding years on tour. But with lock and dam operators threatening to
close the gates along Marty’s riverine path to another solid day like yesterday,
stress levels skyrocketed from the reality that one bad day out here can crush
a dream season.
As five guys from the ever heroic Bassmaster Service Crew
pounced aboard Robinson’s boat and checked every wire, fuse, breaker and the
trolling motor itself – arguably it was Casey Ashley that saved the day when he
told Marty, “Marty, I’ve got a spare trolling motor in the back of my truck,
take my keys, run up there to the parking lot, and get it.”
Robinson took Casey’s keys, sprinted toward the parking lot
in his flip-flop sandals, and returned with Casey’s Tundra, along with the brand
new back-up trolling motor Casey promised. Robinson who is mechanically
inclined to the point of operating his own plumbing business with wife Iris
when not on tour, assisted in the installation, and 15 minutes after every
other boat had blasted off, Marty idled into the current of the Arkansas with a
smile on his suntanned face – because once again, brotherhood trumps bad wires
or temperamental trolling motors.
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Photos by Alan McGuckin
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