I was asked this question many moons ago after a Chicagoland Bank Anglers (CBA) event at Busse Lake. After the tournament, many of us hung around to get a few more hours with rod and reel in hand—more of a social time after competition—but nevertheless memorable time spent with fellow bank anglers. At the time, I was chief steward of these events, so I had to watch over the proceedings, talk to curious non-competing anglers, and weigh fish at times, so I had to leave my tackle in my truck until after the event. After the horn blast bringing an end to competition, followed by the weigh-in and awards ceremony, I couldn’t wait to dash to my truck to grab all my rods and tackle bag for some personal time on the water!

As I hauled my gear back to the water, I saw a friend to the CBA working his magic along the banks. I approached and asked if I could join the stretch of bank he was working. He invited me in; I’d fished with him before on a few occasions and always walked away a more enriched angler, so I was pumped to spend a little time with him. The angler on the bank was the late Chuck Thompson. Trying to find a short and concise way to describe or introduce Chuck is insanely difficult. He was a Chicagoland angler, a world class ice angler, conservationist, an incredible angling instructor. If you knew him, “You know.” If you didn’t, let’s just say that after a couple hours alongside him on the ice or sharing a bank, you would glean incredible angling knowledge.

I dropped my gear bankside, relieving my hand clenching all I could carry: A couple of long, collapsible poles; a couple of float rods; a couple ultra-light jig rods; and my 48-pound carry bag that barely allowed enough blood to pumped to my brain when slung across my shoulder, ready to tackle whatever the banks of Busse had to offer! I remember Chuck slowly turning, looking at me trying to regain my breath, then looking at my pile of gear, then looking back into my eyes, and saying with a quiet voice, “So Dan, you’re traveling light today?” Ah, with those few words, I knew that I was about to learn something! And I most certainly did!

Chuck knelt down in the grass, looked through my rods, grabbed my favorite jig rod, set it to one side, then without asking, went into my tackle bag and grabbed a pocket-sized box with a variety of 1/32-ounce jigs and some ice jigs. He laid that alongside my rod, located my container of maggots, and as he stood up, quietly suggested that I return the remaining tackle back to my truck so we could get to some actual fishing rather than toting gear around the lake! 

I “packmuled” the tackle back to my truck. As I returned, Chuck was into my jig box, selecting and then tying on a plain jig head—no paint—which he dressed with a single maggot. Without saying anything, he handed me my rod, nodded his head toward the water, and off we went.

As Chuck made his first cast, he explained how he was finding large bluegills in the area we were fishing, and was connecting on almost every cast with this jig and maggot rig. He was spot on. I was looking at his gear, trying to figure out his setup, which was some type of old, short fly rod he had rigged up to toss out his presentation—a single maggot on a tiny fly hook. With me not having a fly rod, he chose for me to use the lightest setup I had, with me and casting a 1/32-ounce jig tipped with the maggot. He put me on fish, though certainly not the nonstop action he was experiencing, but I still had a blast with this ridiculously simple rig. 

I picked apart his brain with rapid fire fishing questions, because my opportunity to fish with Chuck was rare. I think he just wanted to fish, but was a gracious fishing instructor and bank partner. As we wrapped for the afternoon and stopped by my truck, I lowered my tailgate to lay my rod, mini box and maggots in the bed, still asking questions. He laid down his shoulder bag, which if I remember correctly looked like some type of old beat-up military surplus bag, and a rather overly worn type of flyfishing rig. 

As we chatted for a few minutes, I dragged my carry bag that held 4 or 5 Plano 3700 clear boxes to the edge of the gate, right next to his carry bag. He smiled and said that mine looked “pretty,” loaded with an enormous supply of various bank-angling-specific tackle. We talked tackle for a bit, my half-dozen rods laid across the tailgate, and my bag looking like it threw up clear tackle boxes. Next to it all lay the simplest and most unimpressive gathering of gear (his). Yet it was the tackle of choice of one of the most admired anglers I’ve ever had the opportunity to spend time with.

With the money I had spent for my gear next to Chuck’s, it was almost embarrassing to see how his gear had outperformed mine with the day’s success on the bank. Of course, Chuck’s knowledge of fish behavior and skill level were “next level” back then compared to mine. As we were ready to part, he laid down my showpiece, 12-foot float rod and slid a clear box he was inspecting back into my bag. He picked up his tattered canvas bag and stumpy fly rod, shook my hand, and looking one more time at my gear, with a pat on the shoulder, he spoke those words in this article’s title: “You have to decide, do you want to catch fish or collect tackle?” 

I still remember those few opportunities I had to fish alongside Chuck. I’ll have to tell you someday about my first encounter with him and my overloaded ice sled. While some might say that Chuck’s comment about fishing and tackle collecting had a negative undertone, I can assure you that it did not; it was a heartfelt teaching moment that I’ll always appreciate. Not that I’ve always adhered to his advice, because if you saw my tackle room today, no truer words have been said to me concerning fishing!

This story was filled with reminiscing on my part, but my intentions are the same as Chuck’s were: Helping others to become better anglers! 

Today’s anglers find themselves in a bit of a predicament. Most bank anglers are always trying to become better, more advanced anglers today, but it seems that we are being convinced that becoming a more advanced angler comes with a cost: not a cost of time spent training or gaining knowledge and experience on the water, but with tackle purchases to guarantee you success. Friends, this simply is not true. 

We are at a precipice in angling today, with an enormous amount of tackle available. Plus, the bombardment of social media with so-called “experts” promoting (and getting paid to convince us) that some type of newest, latest, greatest, bait or gear will assure guaranteed success on the water. But this simply isn’t true. Success comes through knowledge; knowledge is built through experience and time invested on the water, and with knowledge gained and shared with/by other anglers. Yes, there are some individuals on social media who do a great service by educating anglers. Then again, there are those who just lack the practical experience to be giving out advice for advancing learning anglers, focusing on their number of “likes” and tackle endorsements, rather than helping to build an advanced fishing community.

Now, I’m not badmouthing fishing tackle; by my own admission, I’m huge tackle collector, but it’s mostly tackle that I can use under certain circumstances. Is it always a necessity? Absolutely not! But here’s one piece of knowledge I have picked up over the years: Purchase and use tackle the same way you would choose tools out of a tool box. One bait cannot cover all your fishing circumstances, just as no one tool will cover all jobs you need to complete. 

Knowledge is power, and knowledge in angling is no exception. I know that not all anglers have unlimited time to spend on the water. With this column, maybe I can give you a few shortcuts that might fit into your fishing adventures and help enhance success for yourself and family members. But rest assured that I have no hidden sponsors or agendas while trying to promote more advanced angling from the bank.

I hope that one day, someone will look back, and like my time spent with Chuck Thompson, will remember a tip that I shared through this column, or along some stretch of shoreline. There’s certainly no greater gift than passing forward at least some of the knowledge that another angler took the time to share with you!