TIGHT LINES with Andrew Spencer
PEARLS BEFORE SWINE
It seems like every so often in a big-time newspaper reporter's life, there are moments when he's faced with the inevitable choice of revealing the names of confidential sources or going to jail. I'm not a big fan of spending quality time in the pokey, but I did always want to have a confidential source that I could protect. Or at least one that I could claim to protect, even though I would give up his or her name at the first sign of any kind of potential discomfort.

So when the phone rang the other day, I was terribly excited to learn that I might have the opportunity to acquire one such confidential source. "I've got a story for you," the voice on the other end of the line teased, "but it might be a tough one to write." The story involved a resident of our fair isle who had something of an interesting component to his past. But there was a problem. It seemed that one of his employers might not like his serving as the subject of an interview for my column.

But I was not to be defeated on this one. I was going to have my confidential source, come hell or high water, so I placed a call and left a message. Then I waited by the phone like a teenage girl on prom night. Only I wasn't left holding a dying corsage. My new confidential informant called back. And what can one say about one's confidential informant? Well, mine turned out to be a well-intentioned sort of guy who, when offered the opportunity, can talk with the best of them. He's got a thing for redheads. Actually, he's got a thing for a particular redhead. But I don't think that really came into play during our conversation, despite my red hair and ravaging good looks. And at his very core, he's what you might call a Good Man. But all of that is neither Here nor There. What matters is the conversation that ensued:

PHOTO BY JILL SANDOLE It's a Good bet those Pearl Bombers are the real deal, especially if they're hanging from a Good Man's hat.

The following is a dramatization. Voices have been disguised and names have been changed. However, the content of the story is, to the best of the author's recollection, accurate.

"The thing you heard about me … it's true," said Good Man in a high-pitched, girly voice.

"I'm glad to see the voice-disguising machine is working so well," I replied.

"And if I do say so myself, your column is perhaps the single most incredible piece of weekly writing I've ever encountered," Good Man said. "I laugh, I cry, it becomes a part of my soul. Each week is like an emotional tour de force. I am honored, flabbergasted and humbled that you would deem me worthy of inclusion in such a lofty piece of writing."

The conversation continued along those same lines, he continually praising me, I remaining my modest self, politely deflecting all praise to people like Don and Shep. But then we got down to the nitty and the gritty.

"So about this whole rumor," I began. "You say it's true?"

"Indeed it is," he said. And then he began to tell me the incredible story of how he single-handedly brought the first Pearl Bomber - the quintessential striper plug - to Nantucket.

Mirror, Mirror, on the Rotary, who's the fairest segue writer of them all?

Friends and neighbors, it's true. Good Man was the patient zero of the Pearl Bomber. It was about 20 years ago, according to his admittedly imperfect and aging memory, when he and Captain Tom Mleczko worked together. Good Man discovered this magical plug in a tackle shop on the Cape. "It looked like a clown," he recalled, his eyes misting over as he remembered the good old days. "It was one of the two ugliest plugs they had in the shop. And I always say that ugly is the key to catching big fish."

And so Good Man brought this Harlequin-esque contraption home to Nantucket. The seller of the plug had explained that it was designed to look like an alewife and was thought to be exceptionally effective on salmon, but Good Man figured it would work on striped bass equally well. And boy-oh-boy was he right-on with that assessment. On its maiden voyage aboard the Priscilla J, the Pearl Bomber performed better than Good Man had ever thought possible. And thus the legend was born.

Today you can't walk into a tackle shop without seeing a wall full of Bombers, pearl-colored and otherwise, and the fact that they're so prevalent is testament to the fact that they're incredibly effective when you're chasing stripers. While common theories about light-colored during the day and dark-colored at night prevail, there are plenty of applications for a rainbow of colors - pink is a good bet when bass are feeding on squid, for example.

But of all the colors, a couple of Pearl Bombers should be mandatory tackle in everyone's box. Attach the plug directly to your line with no leader because these things come from the factory designed to swim a particular way. When you throw a metal clip into the equation, you're going to alter the action. What's more, a wire leader will spook a bass. So tie directly to your line and use a moderate retrieval speed.

And when you're hauling in those stripers from Polpis Harbor, remember to say a silent "thank you" to Good Man, because he's the original Pearl Bomber fisherman on Nantucket. And that's one truth that's set in stone, or tile, whichever works for you.

Tight lines.