Story by Ken Duke
We sometimes think that the fishing world has always been interested in the biggest fish, but that’s not true. The angling world was focused on fish as food long before it became interested in the biggest individuals of a species. In fact, most “sport fish” became sport fish because they were also delicious.
The earliest references to “world’s record” fish came in the 1920s in places like Field & Stream magazine, The World Almanac and Book of Facts (1926), and catalogs from Creek Chub Bait Company. They usually credited Fritz Friebel’s 20-pound, 2-ounce bass from Florida in 1923 as the biggest bass ever (see photo). It’s certainly the first 20-pound bass for which there’s any photographic evidence.
But there were stories of giant bass that came before Friebel’s catch which could have—and maybe should have—laid claim to record status. My favorite of those stories came to light in 1884.
Here’s that story in its entirety:
“I had no idea black bass ever grew so large,” said H.W. Ross of Jacksonville, Fla., a few days ago, “until I succeeded in landing one that cost me forty minutes of hard work. It measured 37 1/2 inches from the tip of the nose to the tip of the tail, was 29 1/2 inches in girth, and weighed 23 pounds and eight ounces. I had gone with two friends to N*****town Creek, near Altoona, to fish. After filling our minnow bucket we fished in a lake formed by the creek, which contained some four acres, with water thirty feet deep. I was lazily holding an eight-ounce pole when suddenly my float sank, and away went my line at lightning speed. The fish made straight for the centre of the lake, and it was only with the greatest circumspection that I succeeded in heading him toward shore. The bass was hooked about twelve feet from the surface of the water, and he did not show himself above the surface at any time. When he was finally pulled into the boat he came with his mouth wide open and to all appearances was dead. He never flopped once after he was landed. I never heard of so large a black bass being taken before.”
That story appeared in newspapers in at least nine states (California, Colorado, Connecticut, Illinois, Maine, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin) between August 25 and October 10, 1884.
I first heard about the catch when reading the second book on bass fishing—James A. Henshall’s More About the Black Bass.
Here’s what Henshall wrote in 1889:
Mr. H.W. Ross, when in Florida, caught, in a “clear, deep, lily-bound lake,” near Altoona, in that state, a large-mouthed Black Bass which, he states, weighed twenty-three and one-eighth pounds, and measured, from tip of nose to tip of tail, thirty-seven and one-half inches, and in girth, twenty-nine and one-half inches. The head of this fish was sent to the office of Forest and Stream, in New York, and its dimensions were given by the editor as follows: “Its maxillary bone measures four and three-fourths inches; the head is seven and one-half inches from the tip of the upper jaw to the end of the opercle, and the lower jaw projects one inch. The greatest girth of the head is sixteen and one-half inches.”
There’s not a lot to go on in those two paragraphs totaling just 337 words, but in the years since I read about Ross’s catch, I’ve tried to learn as much as I can about Ross and the fish to get a clearer picture of why he never was and never will be the record holder.
I scoured newspaper and genealogical records and eventually figured out that H.W. Ross of Jacksonville, Florida was Horace Warren Ross, born in 1852 somewhere in New York State. He was 31 or 32 when he caught the giant bass. Sometime in the 1870s, Ross moved to Dubuque, Iowa, and got married. He and his family moved to Jacksonville in the early 1880s. That’s when Ross caught his giant bass.
According to an 1891 Jacksonville address directory, H.W. Ross worked as a “traveling agent,” which probably means he was a salesman. He died in the late 1890s, and I know that only because in the 1900 census, his wife is listed as the head of household, and in later censuses, she’s listed as a widow. I don’t know exactly when, where, or how he died, and I haven’t been able to find an obituary for him, but in June of 1899, his wife applied to get his military pension. It’s very likely that he died that year at the age of 46 or 47.
I’ve never been able to locate an image of Ross or his bass, but that’s not surprising. No one had a camera in their pocket or purse in 1884.
What do we know about the catch?
Let’s look at what we know about Ross’s bass. First, it weighed 23-8—more than any largemouth bass ever recognized as a world record—three pounds, six ounces more than the Fritz Friebel bass of 1923; one pound, four ounces more than the George Perry bass of 1932; and one pound, three ounces more than Manabu Kurita’s 2009 bass from Japan.
Second, the editor and staff of Forest and Stream had access to the actual head of the fish and measured it meticulously.
Third, Field & Stream, which began publishing “world’s records” in the 1920s, knew or should have known about the Ross bass because Field & Stream purchased Forest and Stream in 1930.
Fourth, Ross’s bass came from the “right” place. Altoona, Florida is less than an hour north of Orlando. The fish would have been a pure Florida bass (Micropterus salmoides) with the right genetics for maximum size.
Fifth, there were no record-keeping standards at the time of the catch. Nevertheless, Ross exceeded all reasonable expectations by recording length and girth measurements and by sending the carcass to the editor of Forest and Stream.
Sixth, the most authoritative big bass weight calculator—created by Dr. Terry Battisti—estimates a fish of that length and girth to weigh between 22-10 and 24-6. The Ross bass lands exactly in the middle at 23-8.
Finally, Ross had no financial incentive to lie. In 1884 there were no endorsements to be had, no bounty, no contest, no expectation of fame or fortune. There were not even any records to give him bragging rights.
Of course, the Ross story is missing a lot—at least by modern standards. There were no witness statements for the catch or the weighing. We have no way to know if the scales were accurate. There are no photographs of the fish and no published reports out of Florida that I can find.
What to do?
So where does that leave us, and how should we treat the Ross bass?
Well, I find the Ross story not just fascinating, but compelling. I think there’s more reason to believe in the legitimacy of the Ross bass than in Perry’s 1932 world record.
But…
The largemouth bass record is the most sought-after in all of sport fishing and should therefore demand the highest standards of legitimacy. The Ross claim—through no fault of the angler—simply cannot do that.
Of course, neither can the Perry fish meet such a standard, and it’s held the top spot for more than 90 years. It’s a problem that needs to be rectified.
Ultimately, H.W. Ross and his 23 pounder are the stuff of legend, but not of the record books.
