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Personalizing Your Paddlecraft
By Mike Stubblefield

Editor’s note: This is the first installment in a new department devoted to the rapidly growing sport of kayak fishing. If you have a story or photo you’d like to share, send it to editor@paddlermagazine.com. Please, no “But it got away” stories.

Regardless of the type fishing craft you have, the impulse to add goodies and gadgets is a strong instinct. I'm especially prone to this, and just as I was about to drill the 85th hole in my Scupper Pro TW kayak, I had to pause and consider. I scanned the numerous padeyes, cleats, rodholders, straps and so on and, yes indeed, there were 84 holes (some of them very large) in the old Gray Ghost. Naturally, to my prejudiced eye, these items improved the whole package immensely but there was a nagging worry: How much weight did all the rivets and plastic doodads add to my baby? So, I dragged the bathroom scale out, adjusted for a small cradle to hold the yak, and precariously set it down Yeow! Ten pounds? The Gray Ghost was getting fat with necessities.

And, of course, everything I'd added was absolutely essential: The aft padeye serves as a cleat for a paddle strap system I've never used, but might some day; the one forward is for the grass stake-out pole in case I ever want to face upwind. I can’t reach it, but one day I might. That clam cleat is for an anchor I haven’t used in two years, but...you get the picture.

Tinkering with your sit-on-top, however, also involves altering or removing things. These usually are gross designer errors that interfere with fishing. For example, my kayak had (note the past tense) a small, round, flat area aft of the forward hatch for a compass. I immediately installed a flush-mounted rodholder there and the very next weekend got hopelessly lost when a dense fog descended on the mangrove islets I was fishing. Happily, the wind blew the fog out by noon and the Coast Guard search was terminated. By 3:30 p.m. I'd purchased and installed a bungie-mounted compass on the hatch cover, which required four rivets and two padeyes.

 My Georgia friend and frequent visitor, Tacklehead, considers himself a bit of a nautical architect and must have things to his specifications. His third kayak was a Wilderness Systems Tarpon which has adjustable foot pegs. These were deemed to be not only in his way, but unsightly and possibly less efficient for grass flats prowling--never mind a significant weight factor. He removed them. Then on one of those rare fishing mornings when the reds and trout seemed to be everywhere and hungry--a cold drizzly, wet morning at that--Tack had the good fortune to hook a red on a jerk bait. While fighting it he spotted a tail 20 feet to starboard. With one fish still on, he backhand-tossed a shrimp bomb to the tailer and promptly had a double in progress. Unfortunately, both big reds took runs straight ahead of Tack. A wet seat and no foot pegs, coupled with Tack’s average-length legs, meant a rapid slide forward stopped only by a close crotch encounter with the rodholder mounted where the compass should have been. He lost both fish.

Well, you'd think that all the drilling, attaching and messing around in boats might clutter up a little vessel. You'd be correct. However, it's a comfortable clutter and, what's more, it's all my stuff. Someday soon, I'll be trolling in some store and a widget will jump off the shelf screaming to be riveted to my little sport fisherman. Shortly after that, I'll be drilling hole number 85.

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