Athens, Texas - One of the biggest factors that influences the survival of fish entered into the ShareLunker program is how those fish are handled and cared for prior to being picked up by Texas Parks and Wildlife Department (TPWD) employees.

  ShareLunker handling and care tips on the TPWD web site emphasize minimal contact with the fish and keeping it in a stress-free environment as much as possible. Removing the fish from the livewell or holding tank for photographs stresses the fish, increases the chance the fish will get fungal infections where touched and multiplies the risk of serious injury such as a broken jaw.

  All big bass are powerful, but anglers who have never tried to hold a fish weighing 13 pounds or more may be surprised at how strong the fish is and how hard it is to control. "We have all seen pictures of bass being held up with one hand grasping the lower jaw," says Jim Matthews, hatchery manager at the Texas Freshwater Fisheries Center in Athens, which is home to the ShareLunker program. "Doing this with a lunker bass will almost ensure a serious injury to the fish’s jaw."

  As the person in charge of caring for ShareLunkers while they are at TFFC, biologist Juan Martinez sees all the problems that arise from improper handling. "Over-handling stresses the fish," he says. "If anglers would just take one or two pictures and then leave the fish alone, it might not get as stressed. Other problems we see are fish coming in with missing scales or scrapes, which might come from being held in a wire basket or small container, from spawning activity or brushing against trees."

  Martinez agrees with Matthews that broken jaws on fish are usually caused by the fish held incorrectly when being landed or photographed. "A misconception is that the mouth of a fish with a broken jaw will remain open," he says. "This is not always the case. If the jaw is broken in the middle and not where the jaw is connected to the skull, the mouth will remain closed. This type of injury is common when fish are held in a vertical position with the lower body not being supported."

  David Campbell, ShareLunker program manager, offers the following tips for handling big bass to avoid injuring them.

  * Wet your hands before touching the fish.

  * Using your dominant hand, grip the fish with your thumb inside the mouth and your fingers locked on the outside of the mouth.

  * Support the rear of the fish with your other hand placed beneath the fish just forward of the tail.

  * Lift the fish out of the water in a horizontal position using both hands for support.

  * DO NOT hold the fish by the lower jaw in a vertical position. This can dislocate or break the jaw, practically guaranteeing the fish will not survive, since it will not be able to eat.

  * Handle the fish only when putting it into a livewell or holding tank. Do not keep the fish out of water or keep removing it from the water for photographs.

  "Remember that the fish has to be in the water to be able to breathe," Campbell says. "The fish is already stressed by being caught and put into a different environment, and holding it out of the water increases the stress level. This may develop into a serious medical condition, and one to three weeks later, the fish may die. Taking photos is okay if everyone gets ready before the fish is removed from the water and is put back within thirty seconds."

  If you must handle the fish, try to do so out of the wind and keep it out of water as little as possible. Wind can dry out the eyes very quickly and result in damage.

  A 13 or 14 pound bass is the equivalent of a 170-class whitetail buck, with the difference being that the buck goes on the wall, while the fish, if properly handled and cared for, can live to continue to produce more fish. Anglers who want to continue to have the opportunity to catch big bass can improve their chances by treating those big bass like babies.

  I was getting tired of dried beans and hoe cakes. I had three chickens left alive, but the damn chicken hawks had them so scared they wouldn’t stand still long enough to lay an egg. I guess the limited diet, among other things had me upset. I decided I was going to cut down on the chicken hawk population.

  Pete had given me an old long tom shotgun. I had only three shells for it and they were loaded with small bird shot. I knew I would need a longer range shot to reach the chicken hawk circling overhead, so I got this idea. I opened one of the shells, poured out the shot and reloaded it with pea size rocks.

  I had the old long tom on my shoulder as the hawk flew directly over my head. I took dead aim and fired. Damn!

  I thought the world had come to an end. God had struck me with lightning for killing one of his damn hawks. The recoil was so fierce that I knew my shoulder had to be broke. Dust had flown from under my feet, and I was six inches shorter than before I fired.

  After my brain quit rattling around inside my head I was able to focus my vision. What remained of the hawk lay on the ground thirty feet away, a mangled mess of feathers and bone. I had never eaten a hawk before, and I wondered how it would taste with beans and hoe cakes. After examining the carcass I decided I did not want to find out.

  I walked back into the house and placed the old gun on some nails over the fireplace. My head hurt from the concussion and I found myself cussin’ because I had nothing stronger to drink than branch water.

  That night as I sat enjoying my beans and hoe cakes I thought seriously about killing one of the chickens. Then I thought, with one of the hawks gone maybe they would settle down and start laying, besides I liked eggs.

  I looked across the table at the two remaining shells for the old gun. Now, when you live alone as long as I have you start to talk to yourself. I was thinking, and I said to myself, if a load of rocks could kill a hawk a half a mile up in the sky, why couldn’t I get some real meat. After supper I went out and loaded the two remaining shells with pea gravel.

  I was out at daylight the next morning, slowly scouting the woods for deer. It dawned on me that today was Thanksgiving. Maybe I would get lucky and have a feast of venison tonight. I heard a sound in the brush and I stopped. Out came a big razor back hog. As I sighted down the gun barrel at the old boar, I was having visions of bacon, pork chops, and thick ham steaks.

  I was ready for the recoil this time and I squeezed the trigger. I saw dust fly off the old hog. I lay my gun down and was getting my knife out ready to start butchering when I suddenly realized the boar was still standing and he looked real damn mad. The rocks had bounced off his tough hide as if I had thrown them at him. He looked at me with those beady little eyes and started towards me. A pure bread race horse would have been dazzled by my speed.

  Somehow I outran the hog to the house and got safely inside. After I caught my breath, I realized I didn’t have the gun. I had left it back by the creek. Oh well, after two concussions my eyes were probably permanently crossed anyway. So much for a Thanksgiving feast.

  Oh yea, for you people that don't know. Hoe cakes are just flour, baking powder and water mixed into a batter and fried. I stoked the fire under the beans and went to stir up a batch of hoe cakes. Well I'll be forever damned. Wouldn’t you know it; I was out of baking powder.