Blog: Frogging of a Different Kind

As a bass fisherman, I have a special feeling for that time of year when I can start fishing a frog again. I’m not sure if the rush of adrenaline I feel is from that first explosion when a bass crashes the frog, or the anticipation of it. Whatever it is, I love it!

That being said, I was preparing for my next Walmart FLW Tour event when the phone started quacking (I like the duck ringtone). It was my buddies from TDJ Oilfield Services, Joey and Thomas Moore. They wanted me to go frogging with them.

“I’m all about that,” I told them. “What do I need to bring, and when do I need to get there?”

They asked me to bring my Lance camper, and they would provide the boat.

I wondered what was up with the camper, one of those slide-in styles that fits in the bed of a truck. Anyway, I said I would bring it, and then I got directions. I loaded the Lance and grabbed a couple of Duckett rods and Scum Frogs and headed out. A couple of hours later I met them in the backwoods at the end of a road where it turned into dirt.

Thomas said, “Get out, I’m driving.”  

I thought he was going to put a blindfold on me at first, but he just made me promise on my firstborn that I would never tell where we were going. We drove and drove down the dirt road, turning here and there along the way. We finally reached the lake, and I jumped out, grabbed the rods and started looking around for a bass boat.

“What the heck are you bringing all that stuff for?” Joey asked. “All you need is a pair of long pants to wear.”

I had worn my usual fishing attire: shorts, a T-shirt and my lucky fishing sandals. I told Joey that was all I had to wear, and he replied, “Boy, the mosquitos are gonna tear you a new one.”

That was the first inkling I had that this wasn’t going to be a normal frog-fishing event. Thomas chimed in and said I could borrow a pair of his waders. By this time, I was really confused as I’ve never worn waders while fishing in a boat before.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“Froggin,’ son,” Joey replied. Thomas then informed me that we weren’t going to feed fake frogs to bass, but rather we were going to catch a mess of bullfrogs and have a frog leg feast.

What the heck, I laughed and said, “Let’s do it.” We walked down to the bank, and I saw a real Cadillac of frogging boats. It was complete with a Pro-Drive Outboard and all of the bells and whistles that a serious frogger needs.

By this time it was getting dark so we loaded up in a hurry and set out. Thomas and I got in the front while Joey ran the boat. Thomas explained that bullfrogs have big clear eyes that glow in the dark when you shine a spotlight on them. The light temporarily blinds them, and that’s when you ease in among the moss and grass and grab them. And, oh, by the way, Thomas advised me, gators have red eyes; you don’t want to grab them.

Following Thomas’ lead, I laid down on the front of the boat, stretched out over the water like an old hood ornament, and wondered what was going to happen next. All of a sudden, Thomas gave Joey a hand signal and he slowed the boat to a glide. Thomas reached down, slapped at the water with one hand and came up with the biggest frog that I’ve ever seen. Stretched out, it must have been 3 feet long, or so it looked at that moment. He deposited it in a catch cage we had taken along.

“That’s how it’s done, Mr. Pete,” he said. Then he proceeded to catch four more.

“Now it’s your turn,” Thomas advised me when we took a break.

“Why, you’re doing fine,” I answered.

“You want to eat, don’t you?” he asked.

“Of course,” I answered.

“No frog, no eat,” he said.

Me being the kind of guy who never wants to say, “I wish I would have,” I told him I’d give it a try. I stretched out again, and Thomas held a light out over the water in front of us.

“There’s a good one,” he said as he pointed ahead.

As we got closer, I could see the shining eyes of the frog. My heart was pounding. No problem, I told myself, here I go. BAM! I slapped my hand on top of the frog and came up with nothing but water weeds. Thomas and Joey both laughed. “Quick, aren’t they?” said Joey.

We moved on. “There’s another one; get ready,” said Thomas.

Joey eased back on the throttle and BAM! … another miss. There was a little less laughter that time, even less when I missed a third frog.

“You miss again and you will be swimming back,” Joey said.

I’m still not sure if he was kidding. With all of the pressure the fourth time was a charm – I got it! We all celebrated like kids, high-fiving and chest-bumping as if we had scored in the Super Bowl.

What a night! We ended up with 72 bullfrogs – the giant economy size. We went back to the camper and told lies about who caught the most and the biggest, and then we drifted off to sleep.

Needless to say, I had the time of my life, and I would encourage anyone who has the opportunity to go frogging to do so.

Many thanks to Joey and Thomas Moore of TDJ Oilfield Services.