Okay, I admit it: marine electronics have long been a crutch and now side-scan has become a critical part of my fishing repertoire, but drone fishing never struck me as an imperative. Yeah, the bow-mount electric trolling motor and Spot-Lock have proved critical, too. I haven’t broken down and bought real-time imaging yet, but I’ve used it several times and I’m sure that will eventually become another must-have. Ugh… Does anyone else remember when you’d look around and line up this lighthouse with that tower, verify your depth was about right by looking at the flasher, and start casting? When a color fishfinder that looked straight down seemed like a major-league advancement?

I’m not sure if the fishing just got tougher or I became accustomed to all the newer goodies and gadgets, but today, when any of these new machines break down I feel severely handicapped. Yet at the same time, it seems like we caught more fish without all that stuff back in the days when fishing was a lot simpler. Well, I’m afraid that it’s time to add yet another gadget into the mix: that drone.
I still don’t own a drone of my own, but my son David (of reelinwithrudow fame) does and several times now I’ve watched as it provided a significant advantage to me and the anglers aboard my boat. He’s flown it along a shoreline, then hovered it above fish so we knew exactly where to go and where to cast. He’s recorded the view as we did so, then watched later to gauge the fish’s reactions. It hasn’t always meant we’ve caught fish as a result, but the value of a drone as a fishing tool is right there up with the other aforementioned electronic goodies.
Case in point: One day early this summer we were fishing for snakeheads on the Chick, and despite spotting a few fish couldn’t buy a bite to save our lives. They were acting particularly sketchy and even when David sent up the drone and earmarked a location with six or seven milling around, our topwater frogs, chatterbaits, and spinnerbaits all went ignored. That night, he reviewed the footage and it became clear that the fish had been on edge far more than usual.
Visible on the screen, the snakeheads looked perfectly happy until a lure and the line went whizzing through the air. Yes, the fish were clearly spooked by mere casts—made from 25 or 30 yards away, with the lure splashing down well clear of the fish. Even armed with this knowledge I’m not sure how we could have adjusted tactics to get them biting; use smaller lures? Switch to lighter lines? Regardless, the revelation was rather shocking to me. But, not to David. He went on to tell me that while reviewing drone footage he’s seen redfish spooked by flying lures and line, too. And now when sight-fishing, if the reds are acting spooky he holds his casts until maneuvering into a position where he can present his offering without the lure or line passing above the fish.
Wow. All these years I’ve been focused on not spooking the fish with noise and vibration, but it never even occurred to me that casting over fish could shut down a bite. What else might an angler learn by flying a drone?
I don’t know. Yet. And I sure do miss the days when fishing was a whole lot simpler… but I guess I gotta get me one of those things.