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!
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.
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?" |
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."
"Someone smarter than me once observed that you can never wade in the same river twice."
ReplyDeleteI'm pretty sure that someone was Pocahontas!
"What I love most about rivers is:
You can't step in the same river twice
The water's always changing always flowing"
No arguing with this!
ReplyDelete