The Tahoe Trunk Full of Loose Hooks and the Tackle System That Fixed It

The Saturday I finally admitted our tackle situation was a mess, it was 41 degrees at the public pier and Ben had been crying for ten minutes. He is nine. His line had come off the reel in a nest the size of a fist, and that was the third one that morning. Callie was sitting on the tailgate with her hood up, not fishing, just waiting for me to say we could go.

The rods were cheap combos from a discount aisle. Cold weather stiffens cheap line, and stiff line nests. I picked at Ben's reel until my hands went numb, and then I quit. We were on that pier an hour and most of it I spent untangling.

That afternoon I pulled everything out of the back of the Tahoe to hose the sand off the mat, and hooks rolled out from under the seat. Loose treble hooks. A couple of worm hooks. One jig head that had been back there long enough to rust. My grandfather would have had a thing or two to say about that. That was the afternoon I ordered the Plano Angled Tackle System.

The one I bought is the version with three 3560 Stowaway boxes inside it. I ordered it the first week of March, paid for it myself, and I have had it about eight months. In that time I have not once reached into the back of the Tahoe and come out with a hook in my hand.

Here is what it actually is, without the catalog language. A hard case, 18 inches long, 9.5 inches wide and 11 inches tall, 5.7 pounds, with a utility pocket on it and three Stowaway boxes riding inside. The main compartment holds those boxes at a 15 degree angle. That angle is the whole point and I did not understand it until the first time I opened the lid: you can see the front edge of all three boxes at once. Nobody has to pull one out to find out what is in it.

The covers are DuraView, so the lid is clear enough to look through before you commit to opening anything. For a house with three kids in it, that is worth more than it sounds. Ben can find a bobber without unpacking the catfish box to get to it.

You can see the front edge of all three boxes at once, so nobody has to dump one out to find a bobber. That is the entire reason this thing works for us.

We sorted by job instead of by kid, which was the second good decision and the one I would repeat. Box one is bluegill: small hooks, bobbers, split shot. Box two is crappie, and the Crappie Magnet kit lives in there whole. Box three is catfish: bigger hooks and the sinkers that go with them. Wyatt is thirteen and he carries the case and ties the knots. Callie rigs the jigs. Ben runs a bobber and a worm and is not allowed to open box three.

I am not going to pretend it is a light thing. It is a hard case and it is bulky, and at 5.7 pounds it is more than Ben can carry comfortably on the walk from the parking lot, so Wyatt carries it and Ben carries the net and the bucket. It takes up real room in the back of the Tahoe. If you are hiking a mile into a spot, the Plano case is not the one you want on your back.

What it fixed was not the fishing, exactly. It fixed the ten minutes before the fishing. There is no pile to sort through, no bag of zip bags, no hunting for the one hook size the bluegill want that day. The Plano case opens, the boxes are right there at an angle, and we get to the part where the kids are actually fishing.

Our first trip with everything sorted was a Saturday in mid March, back at the same pier, cold again but not as bad. Ben caught a bluegill on his first good cast and told everybody within earshot about it. Nothing has broken since March. The boxes still close, the covers still do their job, and the only real change is that I stopped dreading the unloading when we get home.

The one thing I would change: I wish I had labeled the boxes the first week instead of the third. Masking tape and a marker, that is all it took. Three kids will put a catfish sinker in the bluegill box and swear they did not, and a label ends that argument before it starts.

What I'd Tell You If We Were Sitting at My Kitchen Table

I would tell you that a tackle box is not the fun purchase. Nobody's kid asks for one for their birthday. But the mess in the back of the truck was costing us fishing time every single trip, and it took one hard case with three boxes in it to stop that. If your kids are fishing out of zip bags and loose hooks like we were, start there before you buy another rod. Buy the Plano case, sort by job instead of by kid, and let the oldest one carry it. And check your state's rules on licenses and limits before you go, because that part is on you, not on the tackle.