Yesterday & Today

During the bygone years that consumed my occasionally misspent youth, idle hours often found friends and me slinking our way along the banks of local smallwaters—urban ponds, miniature water supply reservoirs, and spring-fed beaver ponds. Not all of these waters resided on the public side of barbed wire fences; at least in our minds, the best ones didn’t, and almost certainly fished better once darkness concealed us.

Foot patrol meant toting no more than two rods, often just one. Targets of our little jigs were anything from rainbow and brook trout to black crappies, white bass, and orangespotted sunfish—still one of the most resplendent freshwater fish I’ve ever palmed. For my purposes the holy combo consisted of a light (not ultralight) 7-foot St. Croix spinning rod teamed with a Daiwa Black Gold BG10 reel and 2-pound test low-vis green Berkley Trilene XL. For a backup, I coupled a 61⁄2-foot Cabela’s Fish Eagle Graphite rod with a Garcia Cardinal 752, and later, a Daiwa Tournament SS700. Armed with a small box of hand-tied marabou jigs, mostly 1/32- to 1/64-ounce black or brown beauties, we’d put a big hurt on almost any local panfish population. Everyone who saw our jigs told us they were much too small for casting on spinning tackle, at least not without the aid of a bobber.

My friends and I had worked through numerous of rod-reel-line pairings, having immediate access to tackle at the bait shop where we worked. We realized that longer light-power, moderately slow-action rods—not ultralights—propelled our “jigflies” like little rocks. Two-pound test monofilament, virtually unheard of then, even in the panfish world, allowed us to cast and work these miniscule lures to perfection. Landing big fish on 2- and 3-pound mono—crappies, perch, and bluegills of any size, as well as brown trout as large as one particular 17-pounder—was perfectly within reason, given use of a forgiving rod blank and a flawlessly performing reel.

We found that the tiniest “UL” designated spinning reels weren’t right. Spool diameters on these micro reels were so compact that loops and bird’s nests in the supple line were inevitable, particularly when casting into wind. Smaller, more compact spools formed line into tighter coils, increasing the risk of line twist, which often led to a loose coil working its way free from the rest of the spool, causing a major headache. Further, because the roller bearings on tiny reels were so small, as was the space into which line must fit on the spool, you ran a risk that retrieved line would end up tangling itself up somewhere outside the spool—more agony.

The light line and light jig answer for us was to move to a slightly larger reel with a wider spool—the second smallest reel in any particular model was often right on, even if these reels weren’t strictly rated for 2-pound test. Some of the light-duty saltwater reels, the Daiwa Black Gold in particular, worked like a little panfish Stradivarius. A little later, when wider “longcast” spools became available, reels like the Daiwa Tournament SS proved a superlative option for zinging out major casts with wispy line and tiny jigs.

At the time, these reels offered some of the smoothest overall performance and drags available—at least on a youth’s budget. With 2- and 3-pound-test lines and micro baits, we soon realized, there’s no room for flaws. You can’t have something in your fingertips that winds like there’s gravel in the gears, because sensitivity with tiny baits requires an intimate connection between your hands and the lure—a connection that can’t be interrupted by rough operation, lest fish be missed. Likewise, the drag can’t have any bumpy spots, catches, or spikes in resistance. The Daiwas were flawless in this regard, but so were many others, then and now, including the Abu Garcia Cardinals and Shimano Stradics. The spools were light, yet wide enough to prevent coils and the tangles. Line spilled off in straight, coil-free ribbons—the soft tips of our long rods propelling 1/64-ounce jigs in excess of 30-yards. Even in big headwinds we could punch out some bullet casts, so long as we positioned ourselves facing directly into the gust.

One of the keys to working our perfect panfish system was to fill these slightly larger spinning reels first with a thicker backing material, wound tightly onto the spool.  Nearly half a spool of 6- or 8-pound test would then be topped off with a limp 2-pound monofilament, such as 2-pound XL or 3.3-pound test Damyl Tectan. We filled each reel to within a 1/8-inch of the lip of the spool, taking care not to overfill them to the point where the line began to “bulge” beyond the rim.

Still the best way to spool spinning reels with light line is to take them to a local tackle store, and have a qualified attendant fill them with a line-winding machine. Note, though, that if the clerk doesn’t know what he’s doing, you can have a real mess on your hands. Inspect spools carefully to ensure that line’s been wound straight, even, and not overly loose or overly tight.

Those are the details—a prescription for the “holy panfish combo.” Light (not ultralight) 7-foot rods, 1- to 3-pound monofilament, 1/32- to 1/80-ounce jigs, and medium-light duty, rather than ultra-light spinning reels—elements that work flawlessly to provide seasons of faithful service. Here is a summary of new or otherwise noteworthy panfish reels to help you devise your own sweet combos.

Field Editor and consummate multispecies angler Cory Schmidt has contributed to In-Fisherman publications for  almost 20 years.