Partners

It's great to have a good, reliable fishing partner.  I've had a series of such go-to buddies that I've shared many trips, meals, beers and adventures with.  Some partnerships have been driven by friendship, with others based on convenience and shared interests.  The best partnerships maintain themselves in absentia, while those of convenience help fill in the gaps.  But while I've netted many a fish for my partners, and they've done the same for me, in general my giantest fishes have come when I've fished alone.  I can't really explain it, but my largest salmon, largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, brown trout and steelhead have all come while fishing solo.  Conditions were miserable for several of these catches, so maybe that's part of it; or maybe I'm more intense while fishing by myself; or perhaps I'm pushing the envelope of Big Fish Seasons when I've encountered these fish.  In sum, I'm not against fishing by myself, but I really like having somebody to share these things with; if only to get a good picture of me with my fish!

While I can barely swim, swimming has become an integral part of my family life.  Both kids have become  better-than-decent competitive swimmers, and we've embraced the benefits of this particular sport (physical conditioning, time management, mental toughness, a sense that work can be transformed into tangible reward.)  Over the years, age group and high school swimming have been our gateway into the local community, a primary way we've met friends, socialized, and generally managed these aspects  of our lives.  I've been hanging around the sport long enough to have served on the board of our local age group swim club, and I can attest to the power of partnerships within this group!  At first glance, we're just a bunch of (active and concerned) parents.  Yet collectively, we're a fairly effective unit, because we each bring different skills to the table. So while I can bring some technical skills to the actual execution and scoring of a meet, others can bring their social skills to the Official's Hospitality Suite, their acounting skills to balancing the club's budget, or their networking skills to Fundraising.  I don't want to do those tasks, and most others don't want the pressure of running the meet.  Together, as partners, we can get it done; in the best scenario, it seems effortless and hardly gets noticed.

I have come to realize at work, that I'm not worth much without my partners.  Whether internal or external, my interactions with these folks make my work more effective and more meaningful.  At the very least, without my partners's issues,  my job would have neither purpose nor meaning.  I hope they can say the same about their interactions with me.  At their best, partnerships offer the realized promise of worthwhile shared experience, and all the tangible benefits and opportunities for personal growth that go along with these.  Together, we can progress towards some goal of importance; and we can each take away the befit of our contributions.  This process also helps build my network of reliable allies, and buys me some business/professional credibility along the way.  Since I have to work, I may as well be working towards, and receiving, these benefits!  This all makes sense, but as I noted above, in the best cases, it's effortless and easily not noticed.

Now good partnership (or lack thereof) can make or break a Tournament effort.  On the Great Lakes, there is no "I" in "Tournament".  You win or lose as a team.  On Numenon, about the smallest allowable boat in these tournies, good teamwork compensates for many (but certainly not all) of the advantages of a bigger boat.  We do a good job of setting and monitoring lines, we're in constant close communication with each other, and while we each have our specialties, we can each sub for the other and step in when a task needs attention.  Good tournamt partners have arrived on time, stuck it out through seasickness, spotted trap nets, navigated through a phalanx of other boats, kept up with speedy fish, and secured fish in the net!  I have learned a lot from my Tournament partners, both about actual fishing techniques, but also strategies for preparation and remaining positive for the entire duration of the event.  Again, I hope my partners can say the same about me!

On a more informal basis, you know when a guided day has hit it's stride when the shyness has worn off, but the talk has dwindled, and everybody on the boat is actively focused on the fishing.  When the guide can truly hand off the presentation aspect of the fishing and simply deal with boat control; when the angler can proceed without awaiting further guided instruction, the partnership has been established and the catching gets serious.

I need to acknowledge my wife as my longest tenured and most favorite fishing partner.  We've been fishing together with varying frequency for 31 years now, and while I always try to make it pleasant, I'm sure she's suffered through some slow times and/or discomfort.  But recall, one of her first attractions to me was my mounted smallie, hung on the wall of my freshman dorm room.  She therefore had fair warning of what she might have been getting into.  Now our common goals are to enjoy the day, fish in a setting of choice, catch a few fish, and keep the enthusiasm alive for future adventures.  Because we have some plans, and we both look foward to a continued, life-long partnership (including some fishing!)

But this essay really took shape during a recent incident at my youngest's high school.  It was Parent Orientation Night, where the 'rents walk through their kids' school day, get a small dose of each class, and meet the teachers.  I took a seat prior to one of these classes and started chatting with a friend-of-a-friend.  We must have looked pretty intense, because when the teacher was passing out the class syllabus, it became clear that she wanted to give one to each set of parents; and she wasn't sure if we were a set.  I've been mistaken for a fair number of things, but this was the first time I'd been (knowingly) mistaken for a Same-Sex Domestic Partner.  No offense taken; I guess we were a natural pair with my outdoorsy mountain freshness and his mod fashion sense.

Open Water Season's End

November 10, 2012

Upcoming holidays, scheduled events and a likely turn in the weather all convinced me get in one final fishing session; and then put Numenon away for the winter.  I've learned the hard way that extending the season just a bit too long can make the winterization process much more dangerous, unpredictable, and down-right difficult.

Fresh off Tuesday's worse-than-expected outing on Reeds Lake, I hit it again, under cloudy, blustery skies.  My main source of hope for  a different outcome was based on the warm front pushing through; perhaps the fish would be a little more active with temperatures trending up?

It turned out to be an OK-to-Fine outing; I caught a few fish, a couple were nice enough, nothing went wrong, and I had the opportunity to end Numenon's season with a fish.

The perceived shot at a big pike (which I define as bigger than 40 inches) has kept me going back for more at Reeds, and was the main goal again, this day.  I left without having seen that fish, again; but enough happened to get me to undoubtedly return.  My first fish of the day hit like a ton of bricks and pulled some serious drag in an unhurried, deliberate manner.  I was hopeful that this was it; but I developed suspicions about half-way through the fight that something was amiss, and I wasn't surprised when the regular-sized pike came along-side the boat, foul-hooked in the back.

My two legally caught fish of the day were complemented by two drive-by cut-offs on the down-rigger.  I saw the rod simply twitch for one.  Given previous experience with hitch-hiking pike on the rigger, I released the rod, only to find my cleanly cut line.  And so what had become my favorite rigger bait for pike was replaced with another favorite; and that lure was lost in much the same way (except without me noticing the twitch.)  Let me state, in my defense, I've been using 25-pound fluorocarbon leaders; but the mounting evidence indicates the need for something a little heavier and/or bite resistant next season.  Both lost lures were pretty large baits, and yet were seemingly engulfed.  Should I choose to think that these were just regular, but motivated, pike?  Or should I choose to believe that these were lost opportunities for the big ones I'm after?

The two legal catches of the day were pike between 28 and 30 inches.  Nice fish, no doubt, but still a bit of a let down on this last trip.  (I'm thinking it's like hitting a double off the wall in your last at-bat of the season; nice, but unless it won the game for your team, not the homer you were hoping for.)  The last fish provided a quick photo opportunity, after which I headed to the dock to start the winterization process.  Let's hope for early, consistent ice; or for an extremely mild winter with a precocious spring.

Numenon's last fish of the 2012 Open Water Season.  This particular Reef Runner  Rip Stick has been a workhorse!

The Arracuda could still see some action; our rivers are filling with steelhead; and, like last year, I could slip Numenon out of the garage for a bonus, appendix session if the proper weather window presents itself.  (I can always re-fog her engine.)   Alternatively, we could have safe ice in a matter of weeks.  So, there will probably be other opportunities for some more fishing in 2012, but in my heart, my real fishing season has ended.

NOAA's Buoys and Webcams

NOAA’s Buoys and Webcams

Someone smarter than me once observed that you can never wade in the same river twice.  These systems are obviously in a state of constant change, with all that energy and mass flowing downstream.  When you return to your favorite stream, it may look the same, but much of it has been replaced since your last visit.  Not just the water, but probably the benthos and possibly many of the fish.  And yet other, similar forces are regenerating the system at the same time, enabling some sort of ecological constancy.  So it may be the same river; but it’s not the same “stuff.”  But even though it’s new stuff, you’ll probably still recognize it as the same river.

In recent years, I’ve done a lot less stream and river fishing.  I just love my boats too much, and I’m not the physical wader I used to be.  My time on the Great Lakes has generally slaked my appetite for salmon and steelhead, and I’m not as driven to wade for our anadromous visitors as I once was.  More-over, I've learned that some of the best and most rewarding Great Lakes fishing can be had in my boat around the margins of the season, times when I used to be fishing the rivers.

It didn’t take me long to figure out  that there was more to Lake Michigan Fishing Success than calm seas, a boat full of appropriate tackle, and time on the water.  As a weekend recreational fisher, I’d usually have at least a week between trips.  Rarely were the fish where I left them.  But, as a somewhat-trained limnologist, I had to recognize that a lot can change in a week, if only the location of nomadic baitfish and their predators.  I upped my success by targeting so-called “turnover” events caused by offshore winds and up-wellings of cold water, and I gradually learned that Lake Michigan had more behaviors than most might suspect.  But it wasn’t until I started fishing in tournaments on Lake Michigan that I truly recognized the depth, magnitude, capriciousness and subtleties of these behaviors.  

For the first time, participation in these tournaments let me fish out of the same port for three or more consecutive days.  Also, if I were really going to compete, I pretty much had to fish regardless of conditions; I couldn’t pick and choose my ports and times.  In short, what I discovered is that strictly defined, successful patterns and locations rarely held up for more than a day; and usually for less.  Subtle changes in conditions (such as increasing cloudiness) could be countered with subtle changes in presentations (perhaps with darker lures, presented shallower?) to keep the bites coming, but major changes (sustained 25 mph winds from the south-west) might require drastic alterations in presentation or location.   I also realized that despite the severity or vagaries of conditions, somebody was just about always catching fish.  If it was not me doing the catching, then I knew I needed to change something; speed, direction, baits, depth, location; until I was getting my share.

I really blew it a couple of times.  During one wind-shortened tourney in Muskegon, I couldn’t help but notice all the “marks” on my graph while we idled about awaiting the second morning’s shot-gun start.  I was fresh off a tournament that had been dominated by close-in, mud-line fishing; so why not start here?  How about because the previous day’s howling west winds piled about 75 feet onto the depth of the thermocline, pushing all trout and salmon well off-shore?  It took me too long to realize my mistake, get appropriate data, and react.  So it was late morning before we got onto an off-shore program that produced some bites.  Our lost time, conspiring with a couple of unfortunate break-offs, killed our chances to do well. 

In another tournament, I was seduced away from some prime structure by a slow start and the mere pleasantness of the conditions; it was one of those days when I could go anywhere!  So at 9 AM on Day 1 I made the call to head offshore, and we pretty much did go everywhere, with not much to show for it.  I was stunned at the weigh-in; I had thought it was just one of those bad fish-catching days, but most boats had had a good day.  The next day we were constrained a bit by waves and forced to stay closer to port.  Mostly since we really had no other place to go, we stuck with the original structure; we got our first real bite just after 9 AM; and then knocked the snot out of the Kings until it was time to pull lines.  We saved the tournament with our partial day’s catch; and can only wonder what might have been if we’d waited out the fish’s slow start on Day 1.

And so, armed with my evidence (as measured by my fishing success) of Lake Michigan’s dynamic behavior, I sought empirical evidence of the system’s conditions.  My first savior in this area was a small, submersible electronic thermometer that, when lowered down slowly on a down-rigger and then retrieved, provided water temperatures in 5-foot increments.  I made many temperature/depth profile graphs aboard my boats, and since temperature is so important to these fish, this at least gave me a theoretical starting point for each trip.  Quite often I felt like I could eliminate water down to a certain depth based on these readings; and then I could let the down-riggers and dipsey divers do the talking.  The first fish is always the most difficult, and I try to build on my boat's success one fish at a time. 

This system was obviously labor-intensive and only provided a snap-shot; but I truly realized the limitations of this system when I got my first “down-temperature probe.”  The idea of this tool is that, lowered on a down-rigger to the depth of choice, it transmits real-time data (temperature and speed!)  to my on-board receiver.  Fantastic! – when it works.  With this real-time data (when it works), I could eliminate dead zones, zero in on productive depths, correlate the data with my sonar, and perhaps even start understanding what was going on beneath and behind my boat.  But another aspect this available data forced upon me, is that it can all change, quickly!  So if in the early morning I’m pounding fish at a given depth and temperature, I’d best be prepared to change tactics later in the morning, because that mild 8 mph wind from the east could be thinning out the epilimnion.  Similarly, over the course of a miles-long troll over structure, I might find certain cold-water pockets that are holding all the biting fish.  I should probably concentrate my efforts there!

So what’s this got to do with our National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and Webcams?  First of all, let me say “Thanks!” to all the agencies (such as NOAA) and NGOs that operate, maintain, and publish results from this type of equipment.  So whether it’s NOAA, UGLOS, MEL, USGS, NWS, Coast Watch or a local newspaper, Chamber of Commerce, or Steelheaders Chapter, interested entities are publishing a ton of data, just about every day of the season!  Bottom line, is that access to these types of data have made me more efficient at selecting my days to go or identifying windows of opportunity!

I'd like to especially highlight the Upper Great Lakes Observing System; the data provided by their Lake Michigan buoys this season has kept me in tune with conditions, even when wind and schedule have kept me off the water.  It's also provided a nice surrogate for my down-temperature probe, which I have to admit, has pretty much crapped out.  So I monitor these sites; day-dream; predict and observe; and sometimes I'm even correct in my predictions!

UGLOS at Holland, Michigan; water temps are diving after a sustained blow!  Can you say "Pier-head steelhead?"

Now I'd like to say that I got out there on August 10th or so, but I was otherwise distracted, and so I missed an opportunity.  But others experienced a strong, shallow bite and reported to back to me; and I took pleasure not so much in the Fishing, or the Catching, but rather in the Knowing and the Sharing.

After a similar event late last fall, when most Great Lakes boats are put away for the season, these types of tools led me to make a few grand predictions, contact a couple of partners, and convince them to take some time off work.  We experienced some of our best fishing ever, including several trips in a row of quick, easy limits for all, and also including my largest steelhead ever!  It may be years before the same sets of conditions arise; but I'll be watching and waiting; and I'll have the confidence to make that call again.

October 2011 - Prediction Fulfilled; Over and Over!

So I guess I’ve learned that you never fish on the same Great Lake twice!  This constantly changing puzzle keeps it interesting for me and has captured my appreciation for the forces that drive our aquatic ecosystems.  The Internet has provided me with a bunch of new toys to keep me engaged, thinking, and dreaming, and about the only thing better than "knowing you’re gonna get ‘em" when you leave the dock, is knowing, with equal confidence, that "first you’ll figure it out, and then go get ‘em."

New Things to Try

New Things to Try

Here's a simple list of some new things I need to try in the near future, i.e., in whatever's left of this season, or next.

Alabama Rigs have been all the rage in certain bass circles, but I don't think they've had much of an impact here in Michigan.  While I suspect they'd work in our drowned river mouth lakes connecting to Lake Michigan on a seasonal basis, our other bass waters just don't have the schooling baitfish that probably make these rigs so effective for bass in other waters.  But my plan is to use them when I'm trolling for pike!  I suspect they'll take a swipe at it!  Either off the rigger, flat-lined with a line counter, or possibly off a color or two of lead core line, I think they'll attract some interest.  And boy, would I love to secure a limit of cohos on the same lure, simultaneously!  I've secured the rigs and trailers during my recent trip to Atlanta, so I have no excuse for not getting them wet!

I need to try Downlining Suckers for Pike!  Reeds Lake is a hell of a lot closer than Lake Lanier’s stripers, I've got the gear, and I know there are plenty of pike available in Reeds Lake.  Now I just need to secure some good suckers and a few egg sinkers, tie some appropriate leaders, charge the trolling motor batteries, and give it a go!

Red Finning/Waking for Stripers; OK, Mr. Hammond at Lake Lanier's Hammond's Fishing Center is catching dozens of stripers a night while tossing Red Fins to the shore and waking them back.  I can do that, some day.

I'm seduced by the ease of my Maine Striper fishery.  I know what tackle and bait to use, it's easy to access, and I can do it without otherwise disrupting others; and yet, it's fairly limiting in that the largest stripers might not come into my quiet water, or even be capable of being landed, if hooked, because of all the obstacles at my feet.  So I really should seek a New Place to hunt Maine stripers.  I should probably be doing it at night, with eels, in order to maximize my chances at a true cow.  

Speaking of stripers, I need to grab a Diawa Salt Pro Minnow or two.  I've gotten strong support of this bait from multiple, independent directions; it sounds like my kind of bait!  

I learned first hand this year that blues tend to eat their quarry from behind, and they move on when they come to the head.  I also learned that a pogie head is powerful medicine for bass.  I really need to take advantage of this by utilizing proper hook placement when blues are present, and also utilizing, with faith, Heads as Striper Bait.  

There's a guide in Milwaukee, Wisconsin who has great success Vertical Jigging for Salmon and Trout in Lake Michigan. Now, unlike me, he's generally got the wind to his back, more cold water easily accessible over the season, and a giant harbor to work with.  He also doesn't seem to be plagued by trollers to the degree I experience here in Michigan.  I may have the deck stacked against me (or maybe I should trailer Numenon over to Wisconsin), but I bought a bunch of baits dedicated for this purpose last season; the correct conditions just haven't presented themselves to me, yet.  Kudoes too, to the On the Water folks, who filmed a segment on vertical speed jigging for trout and salmon on Lake Ontario; but I can only imagine the ire I'll receive if I set up on a prime piece of structure on the Michigan portion of Lake Michigan.

Finally, I need to try a Grouper Sandwich; it's the lunch-time staple in Florida's Keys, and the standard by which the local restaurants are judged.  I think I'll have mine with some Vanilla Ice Cream covered in toasted coconut with a drizzle of fresh-squeezed key lime juice.  This new-to-me idea, I attribute to a Bering Sea Crab Fisherman with a cook-book.  Thanks, dude; I forgot your name!