Tuesdays With Morty

Mort and I picked a perfect summer day last week to get back out on the river.  We fished the normal stretch up from the West River launch.  The sky was filled with huge, billowing clouds. They almost looked like they could hold some rain, but we never got a drop.  It was hot when I started out early in the afternoon, but it cooled quite a bit by the time I picked up Mort at a little after 5:00. 

I had committed my alone time to fishing for smallies and walleye.  I ended up spending most of the time trolling for eyes.  I tried a chartreuse Wally Diver and a crawler harness with a Berkley Alive worm in place of a live crawler.  I thought that it would hold up better against the snaggy bottom.  I ran through all of the deep lanes, spending a solid couple of hours plodding my way up river.  I believe that I briefly had a walleye on the crawler harness, but it was gone after a few head shakes.  Not much of a pay off for all of my efforts.  For the sake of being able to say that I had caught fish when I picked up Mort, I spent the last hour drifting and casting for smallies.  I caught 3 or 4 before heading down to the launch to meet him. 

When I picked up Mort, I suggested that we continue the pursuit for walleye.  He was game.  I gave him the rod with the Wally Diver on it and I continued to troll the crawler harness.  I was still letting my line out when he announced that he had a fish.  It turned out to be a 16 inch walleye.  It was the first walleye that we had seen come out of that part of the river in a long time, so we were quite pleased.  I think that I'm going to focus on them a little more throughout the rest of the summer.  I'm starting to hear stories that guys are doing well for them around there. Later that evening we saw a couple of old boys floating leeches along the bridge pylons under slip bobbers.  They reported that they had also caught a 16-incher.

We spent most of the rest of the evening still-fishing just up and then just down from the bridge.  Mort fished crawlers and I decided to lip hook some smaller creek chubs on a one hook crawler harness.  I figured that the current would spin the blade as it sat stationary at the bottom of the river.  The smallies were hot.  They were jumping on the worms and the chubs.  We caught several.  Most of them were smallish.  Our biggest was a 15 incher that bit on a chub.  This fish really had some shoulders and was built like a football.  It stayed deep like a hog.  I was pretty impressed when I saw that it wasn't a very big fish. 

While we were fishing just down from the bridge, we saw a guy fishing a frog in some slow brackish water that pooled around a small snag.  He threw the frog into the snag and began to steadily bring it back.  When it had just cleared the wood, a big smallie came completely out of the water after it.  She completely missed the frog on her first attempt, but came right back and got hooked up.  The guy said that he had caught another nice one in the very same place earlier in the week.  I think that I still have a couple of those Ribbit frogs.  Something to try.

The flatties are still off, or I have completely lost my touch.  I fished deep water around some beautiful snags.  I used live chubs and cut sucker.  Neither got touched.  At closer to midnight I moved up into the flat next to the snaggy holes looking for some cruisers.  Nothing up there either.  I anchored one last time just above the bridge.  When my third spot didn't produce a whisper of a hit, I finally packed it in.  July has been cruel to me in regards to flatheads.  I've probably just got one more chance to avoid a big goose egg for the whole month.  I may try to get my hands on some different types of bait to better my chances.  I've still got a good supply of chubs, but I'll probably try to get some gills and bullheads before my next outing.  Something's got to work.

The Lull Continues

I’m dying to catch my next flattie.  I haven’t run into one in my last 4 or 5 trips.  They are definitely in the spawn and off of the feed.  The big channels have been pretty active.  I'll run through my last few outings.  

To begin, I’m definitely a better solo fisherman than I am a guide.  I was able to take my sister-in-law’s husband, Evan, out a couple of times last weekend.  They were in from Boston .  Our first night seemed perfect.  It was hot and humid.  We even had some fog rolling over the water.  Evan and I sat up at the elbow for a couple of hours starting at dusk.  There was nothing going on up there so we slipped down just below the elbow into the long, deep run.  After a couple more hours, we finally got a good hit on a live creek chub.  I set the hook on the fish and offered the rod to Evan.  He told me to go ahead and bring the fish in.  It turned out to be a decent channel.  We were shocked and horrified when I brought the fish boat side.  Its right eye was gone and surrounded by bright pink flesh that made it look like it had survived a fire.  My hook had taken care of the other eye.  This poor fish was completely blind.  Evan had a pretty strong reaction to the gory sight which sent me into hysterics.  Underneath it all, I felt bad for the fish.  I did decide to release it, figuring that sight is probably the least important of a channel cat’s senses.  After night one, I hadn’t put Evan onto any fish.  Like with Josh and Elijah, I was pretty frustrated.

We decided to go out one more time a couple of nights later.  A thunderstorm and heavy rain pinned us under the bridge.  I sent 4 lines back as far as I could throw them down river from the bridge.  We didn’t end up with much lightning in our area, mostly wind and rain.  It turned into a pretty relaxing atmosphere sitting under there and watching the rain.  Evan had his iPhone and was showing me funny YouTube videos.  That thing downloaded the videos faster than my Mac at home.  Pretty amazing.  We had a few hits that didn’t turn into anything.  Then my clicker on a rod with a live chub started zinging.  I was paying attention to that rod when Evan announced behind me that he had a fish on.  The fish ended up getting hung up on a log as he reeled it in.  He could still feel it fighting, but each time he pulled the rod back, it would come to a dead stop.  I could picture the fish down there getting its head rammed against a log.  I grabbed the rod and put the reel into free spool, using my thumb to apply just enough tension.  The fish took off down river and freed itself from the log.  Evan was then able to get it to the boat.  It was another decent sized channel, probably just over 5 pounds.  We had a great time together out there, but I really wish I could have put him onto a big flattie or maybe a few more channels.

A couple of days later, Michelle and I were trying to figure out our week and when I could work in a trip.  In the meantime, she went to do something with the kids and some friends while I waited at home for a guy to show up to buy my weight set.  He drove into the driveway at a little after 7:00 and Michelle called me just a little later.  She suggested that I head out that night.  Time to scramble.  I threw some things together and then went to our creek to see if I could catch some bait.  I caught 2 nice sized chubs on a worm and then a couple of little ones.  I then switched to salmon eggs and caught one more little one.  I didn’t have much, but it would have to do.  I ran up to the river, forgetting my camera and one of my cat rods.  I got to the river at close to 9:00 and decided to spend my first hour trying to get some bait.  It was a struggle.  I only managed one big rock bass and a smaller one that had swallowed the hook. 

With my late start, I decided to fish the deep water just above the bridge.  I started out with the healthy rock bass, one of the big creek chubs, and then one of the small creek chubs hooked through a nostril on a #6 hook.  I was hoping to maybe stumble into a walleye.  It took awhile to get anything going, but the big rock bass finally got hit.  I’m not sure what grabbed it, but when I reeled it in it had a munched head with one blood red eye bulging grotesquely from its face.  I decided to lop off its head and fish it as cut bait.  Just as I was about to cast this line back out, the little spinning rod with the small chub on it just about got pulled into the water.  I  grabbed it and set the hook on a heavy fish.  I knew that it was a channel.  This was confirmed when it rolled up to the surface back behind the boat.  With a medium spinning rod and 8 pound test, I took my time with this fish.  It probably went around 6 or 7 pounds.  That #6 hook was much nicer to this fish than the 8/0 was the other night.  I released it with barely a scratch.  I neglected to mention that I had caught one other channel before dark.  It was maybe a 4-pounder that hit on a ball of worms.  I had one more big minnow get crunched before the end of the night, but I didn’t set the hook on any more fish.  The going is tough right now.  I’m praying for the spawn to end.

Fireworks Are Bad for Fishing

My family spent Saturday celebrating the 4th at a parade in the morning, the in-laws' lake during the day, and a late night at the Kentwood fireworks.  We topped it off with our own little private display in the backyard at close to midnight. 

On Sunday we had a picnic at my parents'.  It was there that Josh said the magic words . . . "You going fishing tonight, Matt?"  He and Elijah were wanting to go after some river cats.  I was all for it.  I ran it by Michelle and got the green light.  I picked up some white suckers, caught a half dozen chubs, packed my gear and headed to the river at around 8:00.  Hoping to get a few suckers and rock bass, I fished with worms while I waited for Josh and Elijah.  I had a surprisingly tough time getting anything going.  They soon showed up with stories of raccoons in their garage.  A family had moved in and Josh wasn't sure how he was going to get them out.  We didn't have much time before dark, but we managed to stir up one sucker before heading up to get set for flatties.  We sat at the elbow for close to two hours with only one hit on a live chub.  It was the aggressive bite of a channel.  It got away with my minnow.  Just up river from us, there was a small party going on.  The people were setting off some pretty big stuff.  Not far down river, another party was doing the same thing.  The night was alive with huge booms and flashes.  Josh and Elijah were having a pretty good time watching the show.  I was beginning to cringe because I was starting to think that this had a lot to do with the lack of action.  I think that those huge percussions were keeping the flatties holed up in their snags.  Could still be the spawn factor, but the fireworks definitely weren't helping.

At a little after 11:00, we headed back down river to fish the flats below the bridge.  I tried everything down there from live bait to cutbait to dipbait.  Nothing.  I was sick about it.  I really wanted to put these guys into fish.  All I could say was that we'd do it again.  Elijah was pretty quiet during the trip.  He's more of a run and gun fisherman.  He likes throwing lures and switching baits often.  This waiting game must have been tough for him, but he was patient.  Hopefully there will be a big pay off for all of the waiting next time.  Josh promised him a late night trip to McDonald's so he had one more thing to look forward to when they hit the dock at a little after midnight.

I usually enjoy irony, but it was cruel to us this night.  I went back up above the bridge after I dropped them off and caught a big channel on a live chub within about 10 minutes of saying good-bye.  Josh probably wouldn't even believe me if I told him.  This thing ate a huge chub and got hooked up on a 10/0 hook.  I expect to catch flatties on these hooks, so it's pretty rare for me to stick a channel with one of them.  The wind really picked up after this.  I hung in there until 2:30, but I didn't get bit again.  I was hugely frustrated when I finally motored to shore.  I owe those guys one.