In an interesting back-story prequel event, we became aware of these world record bass hunters through former NFL Coach Dennis Green, whose former Arizona Cardinals compete in this year's 2009 Super Bowl. He befriended the three record hunters since he loved fishing, and had retired to the area and fished their local Dixon Lake several times. After notoriously catching this one particular giant largemouth bass several times, they became known for trying to break the world record of 22lbs caught in 1932 in Georgia. This one bass had a birthmark on it's right gillplate, and became known as 'Dottie'. Coach Green had contacted us by chance when we were only talking about doing a documentary on the culture of bassfishing. The one thing he stressed was, Dottie had been spotted again and could be caught any day if we wanted to come out and capture any of it. I had no idea what any of that meant at that time.

Without going into too much history, this one largemouth bass had been documented being caught three previous times. Each time it weighed more and more, until the last time they caught her, she shattered the long sought after world record by nearly 3lbs! But they had accidentally snagged the fish, and were scared of the media scrutiny they would receive if they certified the record. So they let the fish swim free.

That was two years before I came into the story. As part of this show, and as part of the result of Coach Green calling us, I was on a plane to southern California to spend a week or 10 days with these guys to see if they could catch this big fish again, and break the world record. Now no way this was going to happen, you realize. I was going to shoot this deal with these obsessed guys camping out, and they weren't going to catch her and get a lot of shots of them in a boat staring into the water. And I was partly right.

Jed was the most into the obsessive hunt, and was still going to the lake daily. He had caught her before, and held the 4th heaviest bass of all time with that catch. His good friend Mac Weakley caught her the last time, when she shattered the world record, but was eventually haunted by the media for 'foul hooking' her then releasing her without documenting the world record catch. Their friend Mike 'Boodah' Winn was the silent accomplice that was there and helped with each of their catches.

For a week I spent time on the lake hunting the fish during the spawning season, where these giant fish come up into shallow waters. I spent some time with all three, and lots of time with Jed. All were great people that seemed almost tired of this obsessive hunt, especially Mac and Mike, who had nearly totally moved on from the hunt. But not Jed. He was the sole hunter that continued with the daily hunting. He had long since moved to the night shift at his casino job, so he could hunt the fish daily 5am to 5pm. A wife and young child at home only added stress to the quest.

It was the last day I was with him, after shooting for nearly 10 days. He'd asked me several times during the week if I thought he was crazy, and each time I told him the final chapter hadn't been written to his story, and who knows. That final day, it was misty on the lake, and we spent the morning on the water hunting as usual. It felt futile, and we both agreed it was over. I had gotten the story and the angles and the sound bites I'd needed. I then took him up on the hill overlooking the lake for a final interview, where he told me again about his obsession and sickness, and off camera how he wished it'd be over.

We ended the shoot, and I had a 2 hour drive back to Los Angeles to catch a flight, so we packed up my gear, and decided to have a southern California burrito at Jed's favorite place across Escondido. We drove away from Lake Dixon, and I was convinced I'd never see these waters again. Half way across town, I realized I needed gas, so I called Jed (who I was following) and told him to swing into a gas station. While both of us were filling up across from each other, he got the call. Thinking about my hotel room and rental car and upcoming flight, I happened to look at Jed as he was on the phone, and he looked like he was hearing a ghost. As he was finishing the call, he was staring at me, and I knew something had happened. Instinctually, I had the back of my rental car open and started fumbling with my audio gear as he walked over to me and said that was the lake calling to tell us to come back. I quickly put his wireless microphone on him, and was lucky enough to not have packed my camera up yet, so I could just pick it up and start rolling.

The interview in the show is authentic as I rolled and he explained what he'd just heard, which was a giant fish had floated up and it might be her, Dottie, the fish he'd stalked full time for nearly 8 years.

As we sped through traffic, me following him while still mic'd up, I'm shooting video of him driving, as I'm also driving during noon time Escondido traffic. I'm hearing him call his wife. I'm hearing calling his friend Mac. He's excited and it's a weird vibe. We're actually caught up in maybe this fish is dead and that might be great for his life??? Getting to the lake to walk down to the dock, I had time to get to get out of the car and hit record while running up to him asking him why this moment is big and what he hoped happened. His response was telling, especially admitting "My wife would see me again..."

I ran ahead of him to the dock where the lake officials and park rangers were waiting in silence, obviously sad and apprehensive that their claim to fame, world record swimming Dottie was dead.

The rest was eerie strangeness, as Jed came down and identified the fish... and was ecstatic that the obsessive hunt was over, and he had his life back. I could see the emotions drain out, especially on the hill as he held up the carcass of Dottie in jubilance and amazement that he actually got to hold her again.

Mac arrived an hour later, and we all could not believe that I was actually there to capture this moment. This moment that was 8 years in the making in their lives. This moment where THE world record largemouth bass, which they documented, but never officially put into the record books, did one final thing before dying on Mothers Day weekend: released her over 100,000 eggs naturally into the lake, then died of old age.

After shooting all that could be shot, I put the camera down and we all looked at each other, and agreed, "No way you were here when that happened.... No way." It was one of those few moments I've had in life where that eerie hair raising feeling crept up, that I was there for that reason to witness that event.