By Linda Schmidt
On this hot July day, the Snake River confluence shimmered under the bright Eastern Washington sun. Boats peppered the water, a typical weekday for one of the region’s most popular walleye haunts. Each angler chased their own story, but only one landed a fish that is sure to become an unforgettable memory for a family whose legacy runs as deep as the river itself.
Bob Davis stands at the center of this story, but to understand its true measure, you must venture back to his father, who took a boy out before dawn, teaching him to cast, to wait, and to respect the river and its bounty. That boy was Jim Davis, Bob’s older cousin, lifelong student of the art of angling, teammate, and now "Coach" and an angler of the USA Kayak Angling Team. What is clear is that Bob and Jim are equally bound by the philosophy that a day’s best catch isn’t measured in pounds on a scale, but memories added to the stringer of life.
It was Jim who introduced Bob to his favorite lure, a blade bait/jigging spoon he calls his “go-to”. If you have read Jim’s articles, you know his enthusiasm for the metallic sparkle of the 1-ounce Sonic Baitfish. He taught Bob how to maximize its versatility and passed along a bit of advice. “Fish get wise. Present them with something lifelike and different from what everyone else is fishing”.
This fishing trip was meant to be like any other: three generations slipping out for a quick afternoon on the water, gentle teasing, sharing stories, and quietly competing for the first catch of the day. Most anglers were fishing with bottom walkers, the local standard for Snake River walleye. But Bob—ever the Davis—rigged something different. Ten-pound monofilament on a Cabela’s Prodigy Walleye Spinning Rod, and a Sonic Baitfish that sparkled blue and silver in the depths.
Dropping into 30 feet of water, Bob jigged a foot off the bottom targeting 18” walleyes. When his line went tight, his first thought was “snag.” But the slightest vibration, barely a whisper on the rod tip, hinted at life below. Experience, honed over untold hours of fishing, kicked in. With patience and precision, he set the hook and began the slow, careful work of coaxing the fish toward daylight.
What surfaced amazed even this seasoned family: an 18-pound female walleye, stretching 34.5 inches with a 21-inch girth, gleaming and formidable. Had she been caught in January, flush with eggs, she might have broken the state record. But it was July, and the river’s queen rose hungry for one well-placed Sonic Baitfish above all the common fare.
Landing that fish was a masterclass in detail. The 10-pound line meant every move mattered - a fraction too much pressure and the fish would be gone. “The real secret,” Bob says, “is to trust your experience.” That was Jim’s biggest lesson—ignore the noise; attune to every detail, and approach it step-by-step.
And as the walleye broke the surface, Bob’s son Levi reacted in excitement. Bob’s instincts, sharpened by years of practicing and preaching catch-and-release, went into overdrive. He admired the fish, snapped a photo for proof, and gently tried to revive her to the cool depths from which she came.
Bob is a true believer in CPR—Catch, Photo, Release. “The big ones matter most for the future,” he says. “Let them go, so our kids and grandkids can chase that thrill.” But nature doesn’t always cooperate. The massive walleye had come too quickly from deep, cold water to hit the Sonic Baitfish and then up to the sun-warmed surface. Despite his careful revival efforts, it was clear she was suffering from barotrauma—her swim bladder unable to adjust quickly enough, a risk in these deep-water summer battles.
It hurt to keep her, but Bob called a friend to learn how best to preserve the magnificent fish for mounting: tuck the fins, wrap her carefully, and freeze on a solid surface. This, too, was an act of respect for the fish and the memory, for what this day meant not just to him but to every angler in his family.
In the end, Bob’s summer giant will become a reminder, not of keeping trophies for bravado, but of gratitude: for rivers that still run wild, for skills passed down hand to hand, and for days when preparation, luck, and the wisdom of generations all come together in one heart-stopping moment.
When asked what made this moment possible, Bob doesn’t hesitate: “It’s all the small details that come together. The right lure, the right rod, knowing where fish move when the sun is high, and how structure holds them. It’s patience, years of practice, and enjoying the time on the water.” It’s understanding that a slightly unusual presentation can make the difference, especially in pressured waters where every walleye has seen its share of bottom walkers. “The Sonic Baitfish moves and flashes like the real thing. In this case, it triggered the fish’s predatory instinct.” Bob recounted.
He’s more proud of keeping the tradition alive than the fish itself. The sight of Levi learning not just to catch, but to observe and appreciate, means more than anything. “We caught other fish that day—just what we were targeting, 18-inchers. But a fish like this? Maybe never again, and that’s OK. It was an amazing honor to experience.”
For Bob, fishing isn’t just about the pursuit of the next big one or the next perfectly executed cast. It’s about connection: to family, to nature, to a tradition that asks as much of your mind as it does your hands. “Every trip is a memory. Even the short ones, where nothing bites. It’s the time in nature, the memories, the chance to get away from stress. That’s the real win for me.” His pride in Jim shines through. “He’s taught me that fishing well is about thinking—reading the conditions, the water, what the fish might be thinking. And sharing what you know, so others can have their day, too.”
He’s quick to say he doesn’t consider himself a pro like his cousin. But in this family, greatness isn’t measured by tournament wins alone, but by how many others you help along the way, how well you preserve the natural world for others to enjoy, and how much you treasure every lesson learned along the way.
As Bob left the Snake River that day, trophy in tow but with mixed emotions, he hoped his story might inspire others. To fish with honor. To release when you can, to understand when you can’t, and always—always—to pass it forward.
This big walleye wasn’t just a once-in-a-lifetime catch for a single angler, but a testament to a family, a legacy, and a passion for fishing done right.
Thank you, Bob, for sharing your incredible story with us!
Captain Pete Rosko is a legendary lure innovator and fishing educator whose groundbreaking designs have revolutionized the sport fishing industry for over four decades. Born in 1937 near Lake Erie in Ohio’s walleye country, Pete developed his passion for angling...
