Saturday, November 10, 2012

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."

2 comments:

  1. "Someone smarter than me once observed that you can never wade in the same river twice."

    I'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"

    ReplyDelete