Monday, Jun. 05, 1989

Angling For Bass and Bucks

By Richard Woodbury/Montgomery

Fishing in rural lakes is usually a contemplative pastime, but the black-bass tournament on Alabama's Lake Guntersville earlier this month seemed more like the Indy 500. Some 320 anglers set out in their boats at 5 a.m., battling the morning chill and 3-ft. waves in pursuit of fish and fortunes. The competitors were equipped with the latest in sonar and trolling motors, the better to pursue their wily prey. When the anglers returned to shore, crowds gasped in excitement as judges weighed the catch and flashed the results on a digital screen. The winner, Robert Byrd of Zwolle, La., brought in 60.7 lbs. of bass in just three days. His prize: $33,000 in cash and merchandise, part of a total purse of $155,000.

The contest is part of an even bigger bonanza for B.A.S.S. Inc., a Montgomery, Ala.-based company that stages the professional bass-fishing tour and dominates this arcane but fast-growing sport (estimated total U.S. bass anglers: 26 million). B.A.S.S. sets the tournament rules, controls lucrative - sponsorships, handles the marketing and covers the events in its own array of periodicals. The company promotes its contests with a weekly cable-TV show, The Bassmasters, and operates a thriving network of 2,000 amateur fishing clubs.

The company's centerpiece is Bassmaster magazine, a slick journal that comes out ten times a year and boasts a circulation of 540,000. The publication offers insider advice on such topics as trolling, plastic worms and fish hideouts. Bassmaster's most famous subscriber is George Bush, who calls it his favorite magazine. With a loyal readership and scant competition, Bassmaster charges advertisers $20,000 a page, and posted ad sales of $12 million last year. The company as a whole had revenues of $30 million in 1988, double the level of five years earlier.

B.A.S.S. is the creation of Ray Scott, 56, a former insurance salesman who in 1967 sensed the weekend angler's craving for tips on outwitting the combative black bass, which are actually green. The biggest ones are referred to by aficionados as lunkers. Says Scott, a fishing pal of Bush's: "The bass is so unbelievably fickle that the world's best minds can't tell you where he'll show next. He's a phantom." Aided by that mystique, Scott organized the professional tours and arranged sponsorship deals in which manufacturers help pay expenses. The company's fortunes have been equally good for a corps of about 125 professionals who now make a living from bass fishing, some earning more than $100,000 a year.

B.A.S.S. adheres to a strong environmental program, which mandates the release of tournament bass. The company has imposed tight safeguards to prevent cheating: anglers are randomly paired before setting out, and their boats are inspected at dockside to thwart any attempt to sneak large pre- caught fish aboard.

Founder Scott sold the company three years ago to his executive vice president, Helen Sevier, 48, and a group of outside investors. While Sevier now runs the company, Scott remains the front man for the growing empire. Sevier, who occasionally retreats to her own farm pond to test a new plug or spinner, is determined to keep the fish biting for B.A.S.S.'s loyal anglers. "They're in mental battle out there; we have to get them to think like bass," she says, adding, "If the anglers stop catching fish, they'll stop fishing." Given B.A.S.S.'s record so far, the lunkers will remain as lucrative as ever.