Fishless October

It pains me to admit, but I’ve just had a Fishless October.  Now, I didn’t fish much; Numenon splashed only three times this month.  Two of those sessions targeted local muskellunge, and so it’s not exactly surprising that no fish were caught.  And truthfully, a couple of yellow perch came aboard while we fished for pike in the other.  But I’ll forgo acknowledging their capture and just admit it; I had a Fishless October.

Big winds and a mild injury generally kept me off the water; my schedule otherwise prevented me from attempting anything grand.  Of course, the actual results don’t really matter, but this is Big Fish Time and I’d like to partake!  An astonishingly large, state-record smallmouth bass was just captured here in Michigan; and probably dozens of TV Fishing Shows have been recently shot on our smallie lakes up north.  Inland and Great Lakes trout are nudging shallow, and muskies and pike have put on their feed bags.  Most fishermen have transitioned into the woods for whitetails, and the lakes are never crowded.  Despite the barriers imposed by weather (of which wind is the most meaningful component to me), it’s a glorious time of year to be on the water.

This glory has kept my mind alive with memories and hope, usually of the piscatorial persuasion.  There hasn’t been much time actually on the water, but there’s been a lot of time spent thinking about it.  And even if it hasn’t paid off this October, this time might be an investment in future success.  Tackle needs, new knots, patterns and presentations have all been addressed, and I’ve visualized success.  So I should be prepared to execute when the opportunity arises.

A mild start to November is forecast, so there’s still a chance for me to redeem my fall fishing before the season is truly over.  It’s not really over until Numenon gets put to sleep for the winter.  I’m not inclined to put her away until I am forced to by weather, schedule or Holidays, so who knows what I might have to share by the end of November.

2015 Grand Haven Salmon Festival - Big King Contest

…in which Team Dog Day has their Afternoon

The Grand Haven Steelheaders host an annual "derby" fishing contest to coincide with the city's Salmon Festival.  This pretty much wraps up the fishing and tourist seasons for this port.  After a fun and successful first outing fishing together earlier in the month, Team "Dog Day" decided to use this as an easy entry into the world of fishing salmon tournaments.  This is a particularly quick and easy tournament to participate in; six hours of fishing, and the biggest salmonid caught by a registered team during that time wins.

Scheduled for Saturday, September 19, even with a big blow including the word “Gale” in the forecast, the tournament committee still wouldn’t postpone the event on Friday evening. Team Dog Day agreed that there was a 95% chance of delay, and a near-100% chance of not wanting to fish in Saturday’s conditions; but M and his boat were in Grand Haven and SB and I would need to be there by 5:15 AM or so.  The only thing we could do was check available buoy data at 4 AM or so and make a travel decision then.  We agreed that if the waves were recorded as greater than 3.5 feet, it was a clear no-go; otherwise, we’d hit the road, ready to fish.

Thunderstorms and wind lashed the house through-out the night and I was somewhat surprised to see the buoy reading less than 2 feet at 4 AM.  Wind and seas were clearly trending up, but the data were what they were; SB and I were soon on the road.  As we exited the truck in the parking lot at Chinook Pier, it was obvious that the event would not take place.  In the time it took to unload the truck, the wind veered from SW to NNW, and at a sustained 20 knots or so, with gusts into the 30s, it seemed like a no-brainer*.  And yet, along with the charter boats on Grand Haven’s Chinook Pier, we continued to prepare the boat and tackle.

The awaited postponement announcement finally came a little before 6 AM, and there was nothing left to do other than enjoy breakfast with my new teammates and friends.  Giddy with relief, or perhaps just by nature, we shared a meal as a team; and looked ahead to Sunday.  The forecast was favorable; it was just a matter of the seas laying down.

Upper Great Lakes Observation System (UGLOS) buoy data from Port Sheldon to the south shows that the big wind on Saturday, 9-19 cooled surface temperatures and brought cooler water nearer to the surface, but did not totally "flip" the lake.

Eminem’s Curtain Call accompanied me on my way to pick up SB on Sunday morning; this, combined with bright Venus hanging in the eastern sky of a developing beautiful morning were all good omens.  We were in position with just a few moments to relax before the 6:30 AM start.  Like most of the field, we took a quick pass near the pier heads while heading generally south and west.**  After a slow start, between 7:30 and 8 AM we hit two fish.  One was a nice teenager, and I muffed the other (again, on wire!)  But I thought we had the start of a program now, and with a nice fish in the box for a one-fish tourney, we could only improve our position for the rest of our fishing day.

Watch that wire diver!  It's about to go!  Meanwhile, enjoy this beautiful day.

Our first fish was our last fish of the day.

But that was it!  Not another rod budged for the rest of the day, but let it be known that we fished hard and well together; it was fun; and our lone, 15.05-pound fish placed 2^nd out of 44 boats*** (of which only 26 weighed fish.)  Team Dog Day started its tournament career with a $550 check, and we all agreed that, for us, it was a good end to a good weekend.

 

Team Dog Day; 15.05 pounds; 2nd Place in 2015

M...

...and Dr. M were happy with this outcome.

Hardware!

*Five people would get swept off a local pier later in the day; one of these would perish.

**Actual fishing details are here! 

***The winning fish ($1100) weighed just 15.55 pounds and was reportedly caught north of the piers, in waters less heavily pressured this day.  Something to remember.

The Doctor Is In!

I’m recalling the Early Summer of 2013; the store was buzzing.  The Fishing Department was crushing it, and I was filled with energy.  A potential customer was holding back as I dealt with another.  As I finished with the first, I turned to the next, and we easily slid into a long conversation about Great Lakes fishing.  “Doctor M” was looking to try it out, and wanted to get set with the basics.  We spent an enjoyable hour and a half or so getting him set up with a couple of downriggers, rod holders, a couple of complete trolling outfits, basic lures and a few necessary accessories (dipsey divers, swivels, net, etc.)  Doctor M was a notable customer with his obvious honesty, enthusiasm, and willingness to listen and part with (more than) a few bucks.  And it turned out that we are veritable neighbors, so we exchanged contact information, too.

I was pleasantly surprised when I returned for my next shift and I was enthusiastically greeted by my manager.  Dr. M had completed an on-line survey regarding his store experience and could not have been nicer or more specific about our interaction.  I got a handshake and a few dollars bonus, and the department and the store got a little corporate recognition.  The Man got a prolific customer and Dr. M got a chance to scratch that itch, the itch of a fisherman recently introduced to Great Lakes Fishing.

We crossed paths a couple of times at the store (his cart was always full and we always shared fishing strategies!), and I got to check out his boat on the trailer in his driveway.  He’d done a good job of mounting the riggers and holders and maximizing his available cockpit area.  All indications were that he was enjoying himself and catching a few fish, but we were never able to get our schedules aligned to fish together.

Another season passed, and I was pleased to learn (through a surprise common acquaintance) at a school function in the Fall of 2014 that Dr. M had purchased a new boat.  But the real surprise was that Dr. M had purchased not just a boat, but a 37-foot yacht, was going to keep it at GH, and was looking to upgrade his Great Lakes fishing experience.

Dr. M called me in the early Spring of 2015 (I’d just left the store) with some questions about electronics.  He was on-board with radar and chart-plotting, he’d just purchased a temperature down-probe, and he had a digital depth meter; did he really need sonar?  He was balking at spending any more money, and while I left the choice to him, I argued that for a few hundred more dollars he could know what was (or perhaps more importantly, was not) under him.  And then we both got predictably busy, missed out on a couple of short-notice opportunities to connect on the water, and generally proceeded with our respective lives.

I’d just about decided that I’d declined one too many invitations and had been dropped from his list, when I received a text message from Dr. M at work, with a fishing opportunity that evening.  It’s been unseasonably hot and the fishing has reportedly been very sporadic (if not down-right slow), but I was open.   I took care of a few things, grabbed some deep-water gear, and presented myself at his home at 3:30 PM.   Our mutual acquaintance arrived, we all climbed into the SUV, and we spent the commute sharing fishing stories, reviewing the day’s on-line data of lake conditions, and discussing strategies.  We were soon on-board.

37 Feet, just waiting for me.

Getting ready and looking comfortable.

I am not used to fishing in such comfort!  A yacht doesn’t protect t you from biting flies (the night’s only negative), and to be honest I’m not used to netting fish from such a height, but I was super pleased with how the boat handled itself, trolled down, how it was rigged (locally designed and milled rod holders), and just how fishable it was.  As for the fishing, it exceeded my expectations for the night (see this), we all got along and seem compatible, and there have been future plans made for derbies and tournaments.

Leaving Grand Haven behind us.

Team-work.  Concentration.  Real Men doing Real Work.

Nice night!

The specifics don’t matter, but this is why I’d gotten involved with C’s; to share some expertise, stories and enthusiasm, to meet some new fishing companions, to share some time on the water and to catch some fish.  Success!

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.

2015 Season Update

Without the second job, 2015 has been declared my Year of Fishing.   Of course, life, weather and family needs will dictate the frequency and final logistics of any of my fishing efforts, but I’ve generally been encouraged to temporarily adopt a line of thinking whereby if I can go fishing…I should!  I’m finally starting to embrace and act on this new philosophy, and I’m enjoying some fruits of my fishing labors.  I’ve just about squeezed more quality experiences into the last month than my last two seasons combined, and I’ve enjoyed every minute on the water.

In the last month or so, I’ve:

• ·    Shaken down Numenon on icy Lake Michigan, catching a nice Brown Trout to kick off the season;
• ·    Hauled her up to Big Whitefish Lake for some windy, early season bass fishing; and, I caught a real pre-spawn lunker!
• ·    Explored South Haven for Lake Michigan’s first Silver Fish of the season, only to take advantage of the available Lake Trout, including two of the largest ever aboard Numenon;
• ·    Stepped onto DC’s docked Lund for another crack at Big Whitefish bass; and confronted with a tough, wet bite, scratched out a culled “limit” of fat pre-spawners; and
• ·    Caught a beautiful muskie from C Lake on my second cast of the morning!  And to make it even better, I caught her on the Figure 8!  A First for me!

Each of these trips could have been easily modified or aborted based on conditions (ice, wind and rain all come to mind), but buoyed by my new attitude, I’ve done my best with the available conditions.  I’ve enjoyed the experiences for what they are and I’ve caught some nice fish, to boot!

My only complaint is that it sure would be nice to fish for the same targeted species for multiple trips in a row!  It takes a fair amount of work to assemble and prepare appropriate tackle and then switch the boat over from Browns to Bass to Great Lakes Trout and Salmon to Muskies.  Oh well, can I really call that a complaint?

Hungry pre-spawn bass

The astute observer will note traces of black bucktail remaining on her face.

First muskie release of 2015!

And, once again, if you're more interested in the details of my angling efforts than in any miscellaneous ramblings, check out my Open Diary of Modest Fishing Exploits at 
NumenOntheWater.

Early Season Bassin'

The Michigan Legislature just enacted year-round Catch and Immediate Release (CIR) bass fishing in waters not otherwise closed to fishing.  This immediately provided for a productive alternative on a windy, but otherwise beautiful day.  Instead of the planned brown trout excursion for the afternoon, we stayed inland and went bass fishing, which is a pretty novel experience for me here in Michigan in April!

This day also happened to be the 80th anniversary of my Dad's birth.  He passed quite a while ago, so we've not fished together in quite some time.  But he recognized my interest in fishing and provided for my needs to do so; and there's a thread that winds itself through my youth to this day's fine bass.

Nice, early season bass!

I've long associated my Dad's birthday with fishing.  There was the gift of an Abu Garcia/Mitchell 300 combo (although this might have been a Father's Day gift; forgive me, I was very young.)  This combo sat in a corner, pretty much unused until that August morning when we started fishing together; always for bass, always with shiners.  I further remember several Birthday Evening excursions to Twin Rivers or Abbott's Run.  I don't remember catching much during those trips, but I do remember that we went.

Thirty-five years ago my fishing horizons expanded with the spring arrival of his Bass Tracker III, and we took this rig out for the first time on April 18, 1980.  It was a weekday; I was on Spring Break from high school and he took the day off from work.  We went to Stafford's Pond, our only Rhode Island option for smallmouth bass.  Wind and cold water were factors on that day, too, and our first hint of success came when I saw a sizable brown bass cruising in the shallows.  That helped us concentrate our efforts, and it wasn't too much later when I felt a sudden weight on my Norman Deep Little N (in Tennessee Shad color.)  The drag slipped when I set the hook (an unusual occurrence for me at that stage of my life), and fortunately the boat drifted out over deeper water where I could wear out the fish on my 4-pound test line.  Eventually I lipped the biggest bass of my life (at the time.)  Into the live well she went; she was certified at 3 pounds 12 ounces and mounted for display at our local tackle shop.  She was, after all, only a few ounces shy of the RI state record at the time; and she was the biggest smallie I ever caught in Rhode Island.

A memorable fish and a memorable Birthday for my Dad, I'm sure.  But fast forward exactly 35 years: I'm confronted with very similar conditions.  I've been distracted from bass during much of my time in Michigan, based on seasons and other opportunities, but this day's mission was bass.  I easily fell back on my early season Rhode Island experience (there is very little early season Michigan experience to fall back on, after all.)  The bass above fell to a crank bait digging through the warmest shallows we could find.

Things worked out well this day. I did my best; I had some success.  I wasn't with my Dad, but I know he's always with me.  Instead, I was with a good friend.  We both love fishing, and we both have many others to thank for accommodating these passions.