Good Morning!

Evidence that fishing isn't entirely about the fish; sunrise on Lake St. Clair on Saturday, October 21, 2017 successfully countered an all-day/full effort skunk while searching for muskies.  I never touched a fish, although maybe I am making progress; I had a very brief hook-up and three follows from small muskies.  My pursuit of them gave me just cause to be first at the ramp and to witness this.

Change for the Better

So, a lot has gone down in my life since I've written anything of substance.  It's all been voluntary, it all gone according to plan, and I think it's all been for the good.  In the last couple of months, I've acquired and/or undertaken:

• New Teeth
• New Smile
• New Home
• New City 
• New Job 
• New Home Lake

Apparently, I've also acquired a New Attitude about day-to-day life and work, because in just the last few days my longest-term and closest friend verbally recognized my change for the better, and a new-but-trusted co-worker mentioned that he couldn't even imagine me wound up over work.  I might even be starting to believe that my efforts towards multifaceted self-improvement might be working!

This is all reward enough, but let's explore how this isn't just about life and work, it's about fishing, too!

My new home lake might now be Lake St. Clair, and it's a large, shallow body of water.  It gets rough and muddy, and my limited experience there indicates that neither of these is conducive to my bass fishing.  The last weekend was Super Windy, out of many points on the compass, and Monday (my targeted day for fishing) was simply Less Windy.  Given these conditions (and incorporating cost, lack of good intelligence, risk of failure, fear of failure, general lack of confidence and such), Old Steve wouldn't have undertaken a trip, even to a world-class fishery such as Lake St. Clair.

That's fine, as there are many other decent options available, but when one is so close to so many giant smallmouth bass, and the window on the availability of pre-spawn lunkers is closing, should not one who really cares about such things at least give it a shot?  After all, the dream is valid, and there are no real consequences to failing; and so New Steve decided, What the heck?  Why hold myself back?  Let's go!

And so I did go!  I came home, 13 hours later with a half-broken spine (figuratively, but descriptive) and one less tooth (literally.)  I'd gotten two bass bites all day, the water was stained to muddy in my area of choice, and Lake St. Clair had beaten me into submission with wind and boat chop.

But it was a Good Day!  It was a weekday fishing expedition, after all, and one of the two bass bites turned into a Master Angler giant, possibly one of my Top 2 or 3 smallmouths ever, and certainly the largest ever aboard Numenon.  

But this wasn't even the best part of the day!  The day was another learning experience for me, and I know I'll take the best of what I learned (locations, logistics, presentations, boat control) with me on future trips.  I'm more prepared for whatever comes my way.

This is NOT a bad way to operate.  It might be Kaizen, it might be Appreciative Inquiry, it might be just good luck, but it might become natural.

Work hard, be smart, do your best and enjoy some occasional good fortune!

Hair Jig Payoff

I spent a good portion of my free time this winter tying hair jigs.  These had been inspired (mostly)  by my daydreams of finicky smallmouths in shallow, cold water.  I've thrown them in a variety of situations so far this season, but other than a single set of flared walleye gills, I've not had any action on my jigs.

When I found myself struggling on Lake St. Clair the other day, targeting pre-spawn smallmouths in relatively cold, shallow water, I remembered those jigs!  Just a few casts into my newly-focused effort, I saw a flash in the vicinity of my bucktail.  The rod loaded, and for a moment I thought I'd hooked the bass of my dreams.  But this fish was lethargic and the clear water soon allowed me to identify it as a drum.  A big "bass drum" if you will, and a very acceptable by-catch, but not exactly the bass of my dreams.  

And the first fish to eat my custom hair jig is... a drum!

I didn't stick with the jig for long, however, because skies were starting to clear and the air temperature was finally higher than the water temperature.  I thought that, perhaps, the bass would start waking up, and to really excite them, I chose a bright pink jerk bait.  A few casts later I got my first bass bite, and a half hour or so later, I completed my virtual 5-bass limit with the biggest of the day, a very solid 5-pounder.

The bass preferred jerk baits.

I allowed myself to get distracted by the allure of finding productive, new water and didn't catch much for the rest of the day.  The quality bass and their dogged pulling were clearly the highlights of the day, but I'll also remember this day for the Hair Jig Payoff.  The Hair showed that there were, indeed, fish in the lake and got me started on a fine day's catch.

Go Big and Go Home!

My recent conclusion that successful local, summer-time muskie fishing is only a marginally viable proposition did nothing to scratch my current muskie itch.  I could choose to apply a temporary balm incorporating bass or salmon as ingredients, or I could seek a cure.  I knew that cure should be available about four hours away, in the Canadian waters of Lake St. Clair.

As I crossed the border at about 7 AM, the Canadian Customs Agent asked the usual questions; Where did I live?  Why was I here?  How long was I staying?  Based on his reaction, I guess not too many folks cross the border from afar for a day trip.  But I had a desk to be at the next morning, there was no other choice.  He simply wished me well, and Numenon was launched and clearing the protective arms of the Belle River harbor by 8 AM.

I was greeted by a sustained east wind and a bit of chop.  Neither was a surprise and the waves were within the “half-meter” forecast; but there was a choppy nastiness to the seas that made moving around much more difficult than expected.  My radius of fishable waters instantly shrank, and so I chose to focus on the Belle River Hump.  This is the only significant “structure” in southern Lake St. Clair, and it proved to be a busy spot (by Canadian standards) for the rest of the day.  Trollers, casters, walleye drifters and bass fisherman were all working this area.

I started near the Hump’s northern tip in 20 feet or so of clear, green water.  Scruffy weeds and bait were both clearly evident.  What else could a muskie want or need?  I started my day of casting Big Rubber (Pounders, Dawgs, and Medusas) with some confidence.   That confidence easily sustained itself for several hours as I made repeated drifts over different sections of the hump.  Conditions looked fishy, and clearly the bass guys were catching fish.  (Mental note filed.)  And, I knew each cast could be intercepted by the fish of a lifetime; that’s always enough to keep me throwing!

I’ve only fished for muskies on Lake St. Clair once before, and the guide on that trip seemed to focus on water clarity as much as anything.   He was seeking a certain “look” to the water, and the water I’d been fishing was perhaps too clear for his liking.  I took a short troll into shallower water, and when I shut down where the easterly wind hit the southern base of the hump, I noticed the water’s green soupiness.  Visibility was greatly reduced, but plankton means shad and shad means…muskies? 

At about this time (12:15 PM and half way through my allotted fishing time), I noticed that I wasn’t feeling so well.  I slowly realized that I was sea-sick!  This possibility had not even entered my mind in preparing for the trip, and it’s tough to maintain a positive attitude while sea-sick.  But cutting the trip short was not acceptable, so I continued to fish.   Once the inevitable kneeling and heaving took place, I felt a bit better, and I finished out the day, casting Big Rubber* all the while.  My confidence was diminished, but I also believe in occasional Good Luck when fishing, so I simply made the best of it.  Plus, Lake St. Clair (and muskie fishing in general) has that “every cast could be intercepted by a fish of a lifetime” thing going for it.

I was back in the harbor by 4 PM, and as I slid Numenon onto the trailer, the ramp attendant noted that very few muskies had been entered in the current derby; local catch rates were way down.  I was perhaps in the Right Place, but at the Wrong Time(?)

I was home, safe and sound, with Numenon garaged by 8 PM.  It was a long day with minor pitfalls and with no really interesting stories.  But, it was still a day full of interesting pursuits.  In the end, it was a good day!

Of course I am disappointed in the lack of fish action for the day.  I’d much rather have seen, hooked, or caught fish during the trip, than not.  Reverse for the sea-sickness; I’d rather have not been sick.    It clearly was by no means a perfect trip, but at least I tried.

In recent leadership/work/blog explorations, I’ve came across the following notions:

·       If one is truly happy, motivation to take action is low.  Why risk upsetting the cart?

·       Seeking happiness provides the necessary motivation to act.

·       Action is necessary for results.

·       This action might be uncomfortable and not provide the desired outcome.  But it might be fulfilling. 

·       This action is necessary to grow, to improve, to achieve; to be our full selves; to be alive; to be “happy.”

 I’d not have wanted to subject anybody else to this trip, but it probably laid a foundation for future trips, and I don’t think I used up all of my available Good Luck on this one.  Perhaps there are better outcomes in my future… if I keep trying.  And I think I’ll have to!

*Not quite true.  I trolled twice while moving up or down the Hump, and I ended the day in soupy green water with a dozen or so casts ripping a giant Sebile rattle bait.  All to no effect.

2014 Wrap-Up

Another year of sport-fishing has passed, and while nothing really earth-shattering occurred on my boats in 2014, it was another pretty solid season.  The boats are put safely away, there's been sufficient time to reflect, and the year's almost over.  I might as well wrap up my 2014 Fishing Season.

*****

The phrase "Polar Vortex" entered our common lexicon last winter, and there was much ice fishing associated with it.  Not many legal-sized pike were landed, but there were a ton of flags, short fish and fun to be had.  As I type this, "Cyclone Bomb" is the current meteorological phrase, and we're just a few hours away from the leading edge of This Year's Vortex.  Well, my tip-ups and the new ice sonar (with mapping and GPS) are ready to go; so I guess I'll make the most of it, again.

Flag!  At this point, anything good is possible.  That pike could be of any imaginable size!  A post-blizzard weekend "Up North" was the ticket to get through the end of last winter.

There was, of course, the February Trip to Florida.  Those events have been fully chronicled elsewhere.  Many fish were caught, my various drag systems were fully and repeatedly tested, and I caught my biggest-ever fish!  But to be honest, my fondest memories of the trip involve my girls; their happiness in the pool; waking up the first morning to a Florida Keys sunrise; and the water's warmth.  Wind, waves and cold water will kill you here in Michigan.  Florida, too, I'm sure, but it's just so much more pleasant!

First outing in Florida, 2014; sleek, fast, meat-eating fish. I'm thinking that this sure beats ice fishing!  Or steelheading!

The local open-water efforts started with my annual Sucker Chase. Once again, they were there for me.  Once again, I got a bonus big-fish (carp) and once again, I went repeatedly!

First (Michigan Open-Water) Fish of 2014.

First Michigan Trophy of 2014.

There were only two 2014 trips to Lake Michigan, but both turned out to be pleasant and productive despite the conditions.  Ice and wind could have de-railed either trip, but once we got out there, conditions were generally fishable.  I got a taste of brown trout, and a youngster caught the biggest king salmon aboard the boat for the last couple of seasons. Both were were good events, shared with good friends who otherwise would not have been out on the lake.  And K even helped, a little bit, with changing out the blown tire on the highway and in the darkness.

A highway blow-out on Numenon's first outing of the year was just a temporary set-back, and represented just about the only mechanical issue of the season.  Let's hope future seasons go so smoothly.

Some icy brown trout started off Numenon's season just right.

This spring king put up an awesome fight.

While my Big Lake Fishing has certainly taken a hit for the last couple of seasons, that is by my choice. Available time is the biggest factor here, weather is always a factor, and I really do prefer to cast rather than troll.  I'm really enjoying the local inland lakes for bass and muskie.  Bass are certainly my Comfort Fish.  Muskies feed My Addiction.

I'll admit it; I have spent a ton of time studying these fish and their pursuit.  I think I've progressed from neophyte to acolyte (????), and while I originally turned to others for advice, I am now able to rely on my intuition and experience (at least to a degree.)  I had a pretty rewarding Fall fishing for them on new water.  And while the actual catch rate wasn't all that impressive, I had several other chances and many other follows, for an Encounter Rate that actually made the prospect of Muskie Fishing seem Reasonable.

Lake St. Clair muskie; at 47 inches or so, the largest ever landed aboard "my" boats.  I didn't catch any that day, but I learned enough to go back with confidence!

A local muskie at the bottom of my net; this was actually my first bucktail muskie.

This season did involve some pretty darn Big Bass (up to an easy five pounds) and one really nice virtual "stringer" that would have weighed about 17 pounds.  These are respectable catches around here.

Usually a bass like this would be my largest of the day, but I was fortunate to enjoy one really fine morning of bassin' on Reeds Lake.

Reeds Lake was pretty much off limits this year due to road construction and access issues.  She's provided a steady flow of nice pike for the last few years, and my single trolling effort of the year targeting pike yielded only one (very nice and fat) bass.  Reeds Lake was proving herself to be difficult, once again, during the Fall Turnover period.  Maybe all the pike I didn't sore-mouth will be waiting for me at first ice.

Have I ever mentioned that I love my boat?  I love her  multi-species versatility, but I also love the safe and comfortable platform she provides for fishing (whether casting or trolling).  Somewhere during my 25th Season of running my own boat this season, I did have something of a Boat Handling Epiphany.  Like many realizations, this one incubated slowly, and it seems almost too simple and obvious to even state; All boats have limits!  There are conditions where the boat will simply not be handleable.  Instead of fighting those conditions and the boat, I should rather find another set of conditions where handling/controlling the boat is possible.  In the end, it'll be more enjoyable and I'll have more success!

Notably absent from 2014 are Stripers.   I can't complain about this; I never even tried for them.  I never wetted a line in either New England or Georgia.  I simply intend for that to change in 2015.

*****

Speaking of 2015, look for me to switch many of my fishing writings to another blog, "NumenOn the Water".  My fishing log recordings have sulfured over the last couple of years, and maybe the new blog will help me sustain and track those efforts.  Meanwhile, certain other aspects of my life will continue to show up here.

A sun-set on 2014 might be more appropriate, but here's to "July 4 Sunrise on Baker Lake."

O (-fer) Canada!

"O (-fer) Canada!"

-or-

"In Which I Make a Huge Effort at Considerable Expense and Get Skunked"


#majormuskieslumpellunge

That text from a few weeks ago pretty much summarizes my current fishing status.  Muskies have occupied most of my fishing time and attention, and I'm really not having much success.  Although my muskie  "career" started hot last season, it's been about a year since I've captured and photographed a muskie.  I've bagged one (1) so far this year and managed to lose her between the net and the camera.  Since then a single nice pike and a few disinterested followers are all I've encountered.

This pretty-nice-pike-for-here hit a Depth Raider cast along a steep weed edge.  I thought I'd figured something out, but subsequent efforts have resulted in 0.0 fish.

My work schedule recently crystalized for the next few weeks and so I knew that I was doing something on July 20th.  I decided that if Jason, my friend and Muskie Mentor (formerly at C's), wanted to join me, we'd tackle Lake St. Clair.  He was quasi-committal, but when I found on Friday a facebook post from a Lake St. Clair muskie guide with a new opening for the 20th and shared this with Jason, he jumped right on it.  He'd fished with "Mike" before, and the guy's a known, blue-collar fish hound.  In a snap, we were booked for Sunday at a discounted rate!  A little extra money than doing it ourselves; but that money was paying some insurance that we'd be fishing properly for the day.

Now Lake St. Clair is just a little over 3 hours away, and it is a world-class muskie and smallmouth lake.  I've not yet fished it!  It's big water, shallow and easily roughened by wind, and the highways around Detroit can get awfully busy.  I've simply been intimidated by her, and there are so many other, closer, easier choices!  But things looked good for our trip; no real weather or wind to speak of, Mike was on some nice fish, and our very-early morning commute would avoid traffic issues.

With the alarm set for 2 AM (a personal record), my Passport and Canadian (Ontario) Fishing License in hand, and a few snacks and drinks in the cooler, I was ready to meet Jason at 2:30 AM for the ride to our anticipated hookup with Mike at his designated 5:30 AM.  There was already a fair amount of traffic at the Clinton River Cut-off ramp when we arrived a few minutes after 5 AM, but by 5:50 or so were aboard Mike's Tuffy boat and cruising nicely at 44 mph across a flat Lake St. Clair.  We ran about 26 miles directly east to near Mitchell's Bay.  Water temps here were in the low 70s and Mike explained that it was the water clarity (or reduction there-of) that made the muskie fishing here so good.  When the main lake warmed and bloomed, fishing would be good elsewhere; but for now, the Canadian shore-line offered the best fishing.  He'd taken a giant on Friday, and 10 on Saturday (I'd seen the pictures!) and so with a lot of excitement, I made my first cast at 6:45 AM.

Mike didn't have anything but "Big Rubber" aboard the boat.  We were all throwing walleye-colored baits; I had a Medusa, while Jason and Mike threw slightly larger Pounders.  I've been throwing a walleye-colored Medusa for over a year now, without a strike or follow; but this seemed to be the place and time for such baits.  It was nice to find out I was casting and retrieving these baits in accordance with these guys' expectations; I'd never fished with anybody else who had actually fished for muskies!  K and A, yes; but whatever they knew or expected was from me; I'd not yet been in a "Muskie Learning Position" while on the water.

Although conditions seemed perfect (overcast, low clouds and a little ripple on the water), the first spot in about 17 feet of water yielded nothing.  We made a short move to (perhaps) some cloudier water, and our next drift yielded most of the action for the day.  First Mike and Jason had small followers; neither was enticed by the Figure-8.  Jason got crunched by a low-30s fish (which was apparently too small for pictures) and soon thereafter I had a follower of about the same size.  Despite my anticipation and watchfulness, she revealed herself to me at an awkward moment at the end of my retrieve; and I totally flubbed a Figure-8 attempt.  But it was still early in the day, and we were all sure there would be more chances.

Mike got the next chance, and he unceremoniously deposited an approximate 47-incher in the net.  It was the biggest muskie I've ever had in the boat, and should make anybody's day; but it was just another day at the office for Mike.  I was lucky to get a couple of shots of her before she was released.

This girl inhaled a Pounder Bulldog; a bait that stretches to over 18 inches long.  We were going big!  Most importantly, note the greenish water.

The guide caught this fish, and he wasn't overly impressed with her.  At 47 inches or so, it's the biggest Esox I've ever been in the boat with, even though she was pretty thin.  Mike and I tied in a sense for the day, each with one hit and a follow.  I just didn't hook up with mine.  Who knows what I missed!  Jason, in the background, caught a smaller one, successfully Figure-8'd a nice one (but then lost her boat-side), and also had a couple of follows.  So we got four bites and raised a few more; a pretty epic day of muskie fishing, but a dismal day on Lake St. Clair (?!?!?)

We made a few more moves along the Canadian shoreline around the Thames River outlet, but as the day cleared off and the breeze disappeared, the fishing shut down.  The highlight of the day might have been the fish Jason Figure-8'd.  I saw the whole situation develop at his feet, and that mid-40s fish inhaled his Pounder.  I'll long retain the memory of the muskie's head flaring to engulf the huge bait.  The hooks didn't stick, but that seemed OK.  We also saw a professional trolling boat take a really nice fish nearby; the fish were here.  And casting looked like it was a lot more fun than the local trolling customs.

It seemed less OK when, shortly thereafter,  I swung and missed on my only hit of the day.  A faint but distinct "tick" at the end of the cast; but not quite the "thunk" that would indicate a sure take.  It might have been a smallmouth, or perhaps a small muskie.  It also could have been the biggest muskie in the lake.  Oh well, I was doing things properly; it must just be a matter of more time on the water.

By now it was 11 AM or so; and we didn't see or feel another fish for the rest of the day.  We kept swinging for the fences at known big-fish locations; but the water was a good 10 or 12 degrees cooler and much clearer as we moved away from the south and east shores.  We fished hard until 5:30 PM or so; and then we "enjoyed" our trip back to the launch.  Holy crap, the Michigan side was crazy and lumpy from boat wakes; the Canadian side had been so nice and peaceful (much more so than I had expected.)

Mike had given it a good effort and had burned a lot of gas.  He'd given us a long day and lots of opportunity.  I'd gotten oriented, learned some local landmarks, and developed some confidence and ideas for future trips.   Despite my skunk, I'd fish with him again; and I definitely hope to fish with Jason again.  He was a good companion for a very long day, and he's used to The Grind that muskies offer.

We'd discussed the legality/appropriateness of driving the boat into Canada to fish; this didn't seem to be an issue for Mike, and while it might be common practice, I'm not sure it's correct.  And while Numenon could have done everything Mike's Tuffy did for the day, she would have been slower and less comfortable.  So when Jason and I go back, we may declare ourselves in Windsor, grab a hotel near the Thames, and spend a couple or few days tucked into the southeast portion of the lake.  The muskies are there! 

Big Effort?  Yes.

Fair Amount of Money?  Yes.

Personally Skunked?  Yes.

Did I want to do it again, first thing Monday morning?  No.

Was I ready to go by Monday, Lunch?  Absolutely!