I laid eyes on my first big bait in the early to mid-’90s at my local tackle store, Turner’s Outdoorsman in West Covina, California. At the end of the reel cases were the premium baitcasters, and on the second shelf down, they displayed the original Castaic Hard Trout — a monstrous lure at the time, measuring 8 inches in length and retailing for a whopping $49.99.
To a pre-teen, the price tag and the lure itself were shocking. To you younger anglers, you have to view these lures in context to realize the profound impact this early swimbait had on the culture. Most hard baits sold for $3 to $5. Custom-poured soft plastic worms dominated West Coast bass fishing, where finesse tactics and techniques were king. Most anglers struggled to catch numbers of bass, let alone target a fish of a lifetime.
This was the start of the swimbait and big bait culture as I lived it. Soon, I watched new swimbait brands and lures start popping up in my local Turner’s and other tackle shops in the area as this extreme niche within bass fishing began to gain momentum.
Ralph “Doc” Holiday and the Stocker Trout
One of the trophy bass anglers I’d regularly see gracing the cover and pages of Western Outdoor News was Ralph “Doc” Holiday of Walnut, California. He shopped at the same Turner’s, since Walnut was just a couple of cities away from West Covina. I was blown away that he could afford to buy the entire tank of live crawdads at $12.99 a dozen. Stitching a live crawdad was a huge part of trophy bass-fishing culture in the 1990s and 2000s. It’s become a bit of a lost art these days, but it accounted for many high-teen and low-20-pound-class fish out of northern Los Angeles lakes like Casitas and Castaic.
Doc would also pick up big 6500-sized baitcasters spooled with 25-pound monofilament for throwing giant soft plastic swimbaits like his favorite: the Stocker Trout. They had 7-, 9-, and 10-inch models available to the public, but Doc was on the inside. He had access to the 12-inch model and a special one without wings that he could deadstick on the surface; it was a testament to how powerful a well-kept secret can be in the swimbait world.
The Castaic Lineup
The next bait I remember from my pre-teen years also came from Castaic: their lineup of hard-head, soft-bodied lures. They offered a 4-inch Threadfin Shad, a 5- or 6-inch Gizzard Shad, and both a Bluegill and Baby Bluegill, all featuring a crankbait-style diving lip and a single soft joint in the body that allowed the bait to swim when cranked.
But for a young dreamer like me, the highlight of the Castaic catalog was the 9-inch trout; it was the biggest lure available to me at a slightly more affordable $29.99. I had to collect a lot of recycled cans and wash a lot of unwanted cars to afford that giant wakebait. And that’s where my big bait journey began.
A Secretive World
I jumped into this style of bass fishing and embraced the suck for the next several years, learning mostly through trial and error, as there were no resources like there are today. Fishing in the 1990s was a secretive world; very few anglers were willing to share anything.
Our lessons were hard-earned and held close to the chest. Fishing knowledge was a commodity; it didn’t flow freely like it does now. When it came to early swimbait production, manufacturing, and sales, it was the same story. Proprietary methods, materials, and designs were closely guarded.
In today’s knockoff-heavy fishing industry, that mindset may not resonate, but back then, originality mattered. Some of the best technical, creative, and problem-solving innovations came from individual, small-batch lure makers. When you buy a lure that’s a copy or knockoff of an original, you’re stifling that innovative spirit, and the culture suffers. That’s what some casual anglers, or those who justify the theft of intellectual and artistic property, might not understand.
I started as a consumer, just like anyone else, except I was obsessed. I spent every dollar I had on new big baits and swimbaits. That buying habit caught the attention of local big bait pioneers. A dialogue started between me, the obsessed and aspiring trophy bass angler, and the masterminds behind those lures. I got to pick the brains of some of the earliest and greatest swimbait makers. I sat in their workshops and witnessed the creativity, craftsmanship, and passion that went into these small-scale operations.
I also got to see all the almosts: the rejects and countless failures sparked by a single idea. They had boxes of duds — boxes of dreams that never became functional lures or made it to the public: so many secret ideas and baits that will never see the light of day.
As I gained experience through my own swimbait struggles, I began to find some consistent success. I was having the time of my life learning to use these early big baits — baits that would pave the way for entire swimbait genres. I’m talking about the original Optimum Boot Tail, the AC Plug, Oki Plugs, GS Trout, Stocker Trout, Basstrix Boot Tails with double jig hooks, and even the Worm King Dinosaur.
Each new lure was a potential missing piece of the puzzle to unlock my Big Bass Dreams. I’d spend days, even weeks researching my next big purchase. I remember stressing over how to spend my $100 budget (a fortune at the time). I narrowed it down to two 8-inch hard baits: the Jerry Rago Raptor Swimbait, which had a more realistic profile, and Scott Whitmer’s 22nd Century Swimbaits Triple Trout.
How To Spend Your Money and Making Discoveries
So to all the people blowing up my DMs asking how to spend your money, I get it. I’ve been there. I’ll tell you the same thing I’d tell a younger version of myself: “I can’t tell you how to live your life.”
I ended up buying both and figured out how each one fit into my tackle box. I kept doing that: learning how each lure served a role as I made each cast, searching for a reaction from the biggest bass of my life.
Part of the allure of fishing is the mystery, unlocking puzzle pieces. I’ve made a career out of using both big and traditional-sized lures in ways beyond or completely outside their original concepts. I’ve taken unpopular or unfamiliar baits and figured out how to make them work.
One of my greatest swimbait secrets? The most impactful discoveries are the ones you make yourself. Let’s say you figure out a magic presentation in a specific situation that consistently works. What greater secret is there than one nobody else knows?
Honestly, I don’t envy today’s swimbait anglers. There’s so much misinformation out there, accepted as absolute truth, it makes me cringe. Whatever happened to having your own mind?
The real secret to what makes swimbait fishing special is the journey, trying to fool the biggest bass in a system with a hunk of plastic, wood, or metal. But for many, that journey has been cheated. Some are just looking for a shortcut, a nod in the right direction. You go down deep rabbit holes on the internet, chasing info from so-called experts. Worst case? You end up reading an article by some kid in L.A. wearing Jordans on a bass boat.
I was searching for it, too, when I was starting out. But I was lucky. That lack of information, the secretive nature of the big bait culture, forced me to think. It forced me to embrace the challenges and the unknown. Piece by piece, I unlocked the puzzle that eventually led me to success—with a swimbait tied on the end of my Odin Swimbait Rod.
Learn to enjoy the failure. Embrace the suck. It’ll make that moment when you finally hold that giant bass in your hands mean even more. Have faith in the process. Celebrate the small wins. You’ll find yourself empowered and unbothered by what everyone else is doing in this often-volatile scene.
And that, my friends, is the greatest secret I can share with you.
