YURI 2013- The Ledge Trip

             

Tim, Alex and I left around 10 A.M. for the keys after having picked them up in Ft Lauderdale the night before having flown in from Detroit. It would be Alex's first offshore trip and first time in the keys. A very nice graduation present from his Dad and well deserved I might add for the fine young man.
     The usual bait stop at channel 5 produced exceptionally well and we were into the grunts nonstop from the start. Alex was particularly fascinated by the 5 ft tarpon that continually swam by. We loaded the bait cooler and proceeded to the Hogfish grill where we met Glenn, Jerry and Nik for some much anticipated dinner and then we were off to the Air Force base at Key West where Glenn and Jerry, both retired AF, had a couple of villas rented for the evening. Kudos fellas, sure beats the Days Inn!
     The following morning some logistical hurdles presented themselves as ice was no longer available from the out of business fish house but we didn't let that slow us down and soon all was in order. Yuri had just come in the night before and was a smidge late showing up around 1 in the afternoon. But we knew the best Captain in the keys would take good care of us so only the modest grumbling of impatient fisherman eagerly anticipating stretching a line was to be expected and not a cause for concern.
     Out of the harbor with the big catamaran and into the blue water shortly thereafter all the while running and gunning for dolphin. They would not disappoint and once the birds and weeds were found we did very nicely with the dolphin fire drill with lots of small ones banging around on the deck. We rinsed and repeated the process all the way out to the bottom fishing grounds and had well over 20 boxed within a few hours......a good start to one of the most memorable trips I have been on.
     We set up in the early evening and put a whoopin on the big muttons for most of the first night and completely filled one of our boxes to overflowing. The bite was very steady but what was especially noteworthy was the average size was very nice indeed with many fish between 10 and 15 lbs.

By 3 A.M. we were all out cold in our bunks having been spent up by the dolphin and the punishment doled out by the big muttons. The following morning after being firmly fortified with some breakfast and coffee we set up in a different spot. Jerry was soon rewarded with a dandy Black Grouper.

     The day bite was was good for us and we landed quite the variety of fish. The amount of big red groupers on this trip was a real bonus as I am used to catching mostly just over legal ones that don't battle especially well. This trip was exceptional in the amount of hard fighting big reds.

     A bit later in the day I dropped down a foot long yellowtail on 150lb braid to see who was home. My offering was soon snapped up and I quickly put Alex on the reel. I had joked with Alex earlier....."if you think you're tough you haven't met Jack".  My kidding was merely a fortuitous premonition as the big Jack put a bit of a whoopin on the lad. But he hung in there and was eventually the victor. Way to battle!

      The second night was substantially slower than the 1st night but we still managed to put some more muttons in the box as well as a hard fighting black fin tuna.

 About 3;30 A.M. found only two die hards with a line out......"Big Daddy" Tim Cornelius and yours truly. We weren't doing much except hooking the occasional fish and hanging on while it ran under a ledge which was just behind the boat. Then the exhausting process of breaking off the 50lb line and retying soon became a familiar routine at this spot. Suddenly something clicked in my brain as I became aware of smallish fish flicking the surface. I stared down into the chumslick that I was careful to keep running and noticed some smallish fish darting about. We had just about run out of the $36 a dozen Goggle eyes and I was eager to replenish our supply with any sort of fresh bait. I tied on a small sabiki and was soon rewarded with a hook-up. In came a gog! I quickly set Tim up with an identical outfit and we went to work. Somehow I had the knack and quickly had about 18 fresh baits safely iced away. The thought crossed my mind to wake some folk up but after 20 years of fishing overnight boats waking people up had backfired on me every single time and I had swore off the practice. The hard work of staying up was to pay off big time for me the following day as we shall soon see.
     The Gogs left as mysteriously as they had arrived and by 5 A.M. they had vanished. I was able to hang in all that night and most of the following morning........So far my mid life crisis doesn't consist of a little red sports car and a blonde but rather how long I can hang in at the rail! That morning I fished poorly and had dismal luck compounded by lousy technique, never a good combination. Tough guy or not I knew I needed a few Zzzz's if I was to fish the rest of the day and went down for about 2 hours. Things improved tremendously from that point on and we had an excellent day bite. One stop was very memorable as we had set up on a big ledge. Our valiant cast of characters lost about 6 or 7 big fish in a row as we were unable to turn them to keep them out from under the ledge. I turned and looked up at Captain Yuri and suggested that we weren't men enough to fish this spot. He flashed a wry smile and said we would "find something easier".
     We were soon off to another ledge and it was here I caught fire and the Gogs from the night before proved their worth. Every cast behind and into the chumslick resulted in a bite with several nice muttons, a nice Scamp Grouper and one big blackie to show for my efforts.

Alex was also to pop a very nice fatty.

 And Tim wrestled with "old snaggletooth"

It was quite a day and we were well pleased with our efforts. The boat was almost limited out on Grouper and we had 34 of our allotted 36 fish limit.
     Our dinners were tasty with Niks wife having made an excellent lasagna for the first night, Glenns wife having made her usual exceptional pulled pork for the 2nd night and Yuri, the master fish cook, supplying our last nights fare. In spite of my pledge to stay hungry so I could fish all night I failed miserably and had a full belly. Even my 4 shot vanilla latte espresso could not keep me out of the rack and I hit the hay around 4 A.M. after another rather slow night.
     I record the following for personal posterity but the reader may get some entertainment out of the internal battle that was waged between the bed and the fishing rod:  I awoke around 7 A.M. having slept about 3 hours. It was still rather early and I knew I needed to be on deck so off I slid out of my bunk. Then the overwhelming realization that I would have to put my socks on with hands that were so cut and infected that they were no longer capable of simple tasks. This caused me such consternation that I jumped back into bed and eagerly buried my face in my pillow. But soon the voice in my head started up........"this is a good time to fish.......you need to be out there........don't put your socks on, just slide bare feet into your boots". Hey, I could do that! I was on deck in a few moments where I found Tim, Nik and Glenn at the rail. I enquired if they had caught much and the unanimous answer was negative. The voice in my head suggested the outfit with the big grouper jig and a ballyhoo combo but I fought the idea because the current was moving pretty hard and it would be difficult to hold bottom...........the internal argument continued until I realized I could get 2 drops to bottom before the jig would be swept up and away by the current.
Out it went and the big bucktail soon found bottom only to be kited upwards in the current......I dropped back for my second and final try. I never felt the bite but realized something was just a wee bit different and I set up hard. The fish was there and the battle was on. In the back of my mind I knew we were on another ledge and I fully expected the big fish to rock me but I gave the 50lb test all I could get out of her and soon had another big black on the deck. All this took place within about 60 seconds of walking on deck.........I have had it happen to me many times where I had been patiently fishing and someone walks up, drops down and catches a big one. It was nice to be on the other end for once.

     

 This was our last hurrah and Yuri suggested that since we were basically out of ice that we work our way towards home and work on any dolphin that we come across. I had brought a waffle maker aboard and as designated breakfast cook I was miffed when about 1/2 way through the bacon the schooling dolphin fire drill commenced. We soon had dolphin flopping everywhere. Back to cooking and eating! Then another stop........the weed patches were thick, the fish were cooperative. I had decided early on that I would not use the standard chunk of meat but I would be casting a big topwater popper. That proved to be a very good strategy for a variety of reasons. I was able to cast the big plug 1/2 mile and the rattles and the popping certainly rang the dinner bell for the schools of dolphin we encountered. They followed the big plug right to the boat where the fellows soon made short work of them. I had caught 3 or 4 of the smaller ones when I got the strike I was looking for.......the memory will remain with me for quite some time.........the 20lber lunged towards the plug from the side and crushed the lure. Then it pretty much went berserk with several wild jumps. Much of the time I was not connected to the fish with a tight line because of the incredible speed of my beautiful adversary but we stayed glued together. Yuri soon showed with the gaff and commented that "it will be a miracle if we catch this fish" (larger dolphin will usually throw treble hooked lures). But miracles do happen and we stuck the fish just as the hooks released. Lots of fun!

 Yuri then commenced to wear us out by stopping at every weed patch and flying bird that came his way. One by one we dropped off as we had had enough. I had climbed in my bunk and when I heard the motor slow I was unable to get up. Thus ended the fantastic fishing experience. I was glad to have been able to share such a good trip with such quality individuals and I am already looking forward to next year. Be safe and cherish each day.

MT

Yankee Capts take 2

     What a long road it has been........It all started some 20+ years ago with an article in Florida Sportsman describing a fishing trip that really resembled more of an adventure. Load up with 30 other guys for 36 hours and travel some 75 miles offshore to the famed and mysterious Middle Grounds to fish for Grouper, Amberjack and Snapper. The hard bottom of the grounds made for some tough fishing. Hanging bottom was common and so was getting "rocked up" by some fish to big to stop.
     It sounded easy enough.......let your line down to the bottom and wait for a bite. But at the end of the trip there was fellows who had literally wheelbarrows of fish and then some guys that had 2 or 3. I was one of the guys with 2 fish on my first trip. But I kept at it and went at least 2 or 3 times a year. The best bottom fisherman I ever knew took me under his wing........the gentle giant Tom Nickels. Tom helped me immensely and my catch started to go up a little bit each year. I continually upgraded my equipment and tactics and finally some 20 years later I can say with some confidence that I can be in the same league as the regulars of long ago that I so admired. From my perspective there is no other type of fishing that I am aware of that demands such a unique combination of skill, knowledge, strength, specialized equipment  and the all important ability to concentrate for long periods of time.

     I eventually left the Middle Grounds and so did the majority of the regulars. The boat left the Hubbard families hands and went commercial and the trips declined rapidly in popularity. But the hook was set and the bottom fishing bug had bitten me pretty hard. I had heard about the Dry Tortugas multi day trips and of course had to give them a go. A whole new set of species and new environment, back to square 1and another tough learning curve. Enter the Yankee Capts........

Did lousy catching bait at channel 5 but ran across some guys that had a 5 gallon bucket of 15" jacks that they had caught. I knew a thing or two about making small jacks good table fare and when I found out that the lads didn't even know how to filet fish I couldn't help but lend a hand. In 15 minutes I had disposed of their catch into nice little strips, discarding the foul tasting parts. In appreciation they gave me 4 jacks to use for bait. Nice kids.........but here is the rub, they had caught about 6 or 8 Spanish Macks on live shrimp fished below a chum block. I think next trip I might be bringing some live shrimp when I make a bait stop. Onward to No Name bridge where I had a tough time finding anything. Eventually I found a rockpile a long cast out and cleaned up on big grunts.

I made the boat a little late but still everything worked out well for me. Decent place for my bait cooler and I even managed a few rods down below. Weather had been windy but by the time we left at 10 P.M. it was subsiding. The following seas made for a very comfortable ride out and I slept like a baby. First stop was awesome and I just knew that this was going to be the best Yankee trip ever. I popped 2 dandy Muttons and one fire truck red grouper that went 17lbs. Nice fish and a nice job getting him out of some coral.

But all good things come to an end and our good start ended all to quickly with the rising of the sun. It became calm and hot and the bite was over just like that! I had thought that it would pick back up again come nightfall but no dice.........a front was piling through and the weather went downhill. Still I kept at it but could never really develop any momentum. For every fish I caught it seemed I lost 2. I had sharks take 2 (I reeled in a 1/2 mutton that still went 8lbs), I broke fish off, I missed or I had other people pull fish off the hook for me when my line would tangle in theirs (thank you very much!). It was all sort of frustrating on many different levels but I kept at it. Had a couple hour nap the first full night but hung in there the rest of the trip fishing all night on night 2.

Three big blacks were caught. The Jackpot winner was 46lbs.......nice fish. When I seen the second one come up I purposed to catch one. Down went my sabiki rod and up came a 12" yellowtail. I promptly pinned him to 150lb braid and sent him back down to await his doom. It was not long in coming. I set up perfectly on the bite and them was slammed up against the rail. Even though my drag was all but locked down the big fish powered plenty of line off. Unfortunately the fish had decided to go under the boat to the other side where someone promptly yanked the big boy off the hook. When I reeled my line in I had someone elses line around my hook. Not to hard to figure out what happened. Fish of a lifetime? Perhaps, perhaps........

I also got into a couple of 11ft nurse sharks which took quite a bit out of me. Don't they make those in any other size? Why are they always 11ft long? I don't get it..........

The grunts did OK for me. My new wrinkle may of helped a bit but it sure wasn't a silver bullet. Check this out > Open the mouth of the grunt, stuff a cotton ball down his mouth and fill the cotton ball with some pogy oil. Insert hook to close everything up. Sort of a slick little set-up. I might try it again.

Bottom line? I ended up with 11 muttons, 2 grouper and 6 very nice yellowtails (one taping out at 22"). I generally thought I was just another guy on the boat but when the numbers were called and the fish divided up it was pretty obvious I was high hook. That was a big surprise because I basically thought I stunk on this trip. Add in that the bite was as slow as the mate had seen it all year and I guess I should actually be fairly pleased. The biggest Mutton was 14 lbs and 1/2 my Muttons were 10lbs and over. I almost put it together but missed the mark. I really enjoyed this batch of guys.......most of them didn't really know what to do and I helped where I could.

So that about does it. Par for the course for the Yankee. One day the Yankee and I will put it together. I joked with Capt Greg about the curse finally being over.........We finally didn't get blown off. When I asked the 250lb crusty Capt for a celebratory hug he never missed a beat and said "get away from me". Everyone cracked up over the exchange. Capt Greg, you gotta love him.

So the appetizers are over. Good Lord willing I will see 5 of you in less than a month on Yuris boat. Should be fun as always.

Tight lines

MT

Yankee T/R 3/2013

     I'm not superstitious but you have to wonder.........even Captain Greg has noticed.........If I'm on the Yankee it's going to be windy and probably cold and the bite is going to be slow. Bingo! Par for the course.......

I started out at channel 5 hoping to stock up on grunts since I opted out on biting the big dollar bullet for Gogs. So a big gamble......just one type of bait to start with. It is easy to talk yourself into believing you will catch a boney or a king to steak up later in the trip. I slid down the pier to my favored spot and caught exactly zip! Nada! As in zero grunts. My spidey sense started tingling and I kept telling myself I needed to leave and pronto and hit no-name bridge. I finally started dollying back when I came across a family from North Carolina who had settled in while I was set up further down. As I was passing one of them pulled in a grunt. "How many of those have you caught," I inquired. "probably about 50" was the response..........nice family, they loaded me up within an hour or so. Sorta funny in that good way.

I arrived at the boat early since I had the bow pulpit and wanted to take full advantage of the forward rod holders to store my weapons and my bait cooler. That reminds me........new bait cooler fellas. Yup, I picked up an Engel 30 qt........ Primo! No more fretting about your ice melting 1/2 way through the trip and your bait no longer being fresh. I am impressed.

Captain Greg decided to delay our departure until 4 A.M.. I wasn't especially happy but I can see his point. It was 5 to 7 seas and the boat and the people get beat up. On the other hand the hardcore guys don't care if it is marginally rough or not as long as it is fishable. So I amused myself in the infamous Hogfish bar and grill. What an odd place. A total mix of people, from the homeless to the well to do (I heard Jimmy Buffet makes the occasional appearance). It's the food of course which is the draw along with the eclectic atmosphere. I had blackened tuna tacos......super! Then I hung out at the pool table where I got beat around 11 P.M. by a Cuban local. I am reminded of a popular country song.........something about not being as good as I once was.

!st stop was pretty decent setting up around 10 A.M.. I think I caught 2 pretty good muttons and thought, Oh good they are on. But it was not to be the case. A slow pick throughout the day. I did pop a good bonehead on a jig/hoo combo however and that helped me quite a bit in the bait department. Night time is the right time and I had a good first night although the size could of been better. Looks like my iron man rep is going to take a hit.........Yup, I went down around 5 A.M...........bite was a bit slow and I was getting tired. Took way to long a nap and missed the decent morning bite. Big mistake. I started fishing again after it was all over.

Day 2 was a little less windy but still blowing. Bite was a bit better but not much. Greg decided to try and change our luck and headed back south toward the Fort. In my mind he was already waving the white flag and we were heading back. That night we set up in 70 ft of water. Not a big fan of fishing shallow and wished we were still in the 120. I made the best of it but it was not good. Plenty of sharks kept us busy with the stray mutton thrown in to keep your interest. About 2 A.M. the new Captain (Matt is gone) put us in some deeper water. Hurrah! 150 sounds good to me.........Here is a good tale > There was a guy set up near my bait cooler and I chatted and got to know him a bit. He had just purchased a med/lg high dollar Penn spinner and had filled it with braid. Nice reel, but heavy as all get out. He had not done especially well........short leader, big weight and fished mostly squid balled up on a hook. The sharks had just about wore him out, spinning equipment not being all that conducive to reeling fish in. While I was baiting up he hooked up and started bellyaching about having to fight another shark. I looked at his rod for a few seconds and told him to get serious as he had a big mutton on the line and to quit trying to break it off. No one believed me but I insisted several times that he ease the fish up. Sure enough it was a whopper......probably between 15 and 17lbs. This guy went ballistic and was yelling at the top of his lungs. I was happy for him. He went on an hour later to catch another pig. All on a rolled up ball of squid with an 18 inch leader! HA!!

The 150 depths were not especially kind to me and I got sharked a few times by some big ones that had put my hopes up before shredding my line. I only made it to 5:30 in the morning before crashing (Looks like Father time is going to remain undefeated). The morning bite was again decent and I missed it once again. We left early and got back to the dock around noon which was fine by me.

I ended up with 13 muttons which I'm pretty sure was most on the boat.........A few of the guys mentioned that I "kicked as@" which made me feel pretty good but perhaps my catch was not the best catch as I had quite a few small ones. My biggest was maybe 13.......not the usual nice ones. In spite of it all >  the cold, the wind, the lousy bite.........feeling like you have been run over by a truck etc........I still loved it and can't wait to get back out. Next trip is again with the Yankee in a little over 2 weeks. Time for fresh line and some new rigs. I have a new wrinkle I intend to trot out and I am pretty excited by it. I'll have the port corner in the stern this next trip........a very sweet spot (best?). Maybe it is time for my luck on the Yankee to change? We will see.......(Maybe a little more time on my knees requesting  some help and a little less time on the computer looking at the marine forecast for the Dry Tortugas!)

MT

Destination: Isle Royale 2010

     The long anticipated canoe tripping venture was finally at hand. I was to be accompanied by 3 particularly suitable partners. Dan "the man" Atard was already an oft tripping pal having been with me on several Quetico trips. Tim "Big Daddy" Cornelius is a childhood chum and a welcome addition. Tim's son Alex, who went by the nickname of "Candy Man" was also on board. At the age of 15 he was strong and especially suited for some of the lengthier portages we would encounter.
     We rolled out of Ann Arbor Michigan at 7:30 A.M. for the big drive to Copper Harbor on upper Michigan's Keewanaw peninsula for the 4 hour ferry ride the following morning which would wisk us to the big island. The 2 Bell solos rode nicely on my trucks roof rack with one solo tucked inside a Bell Northwoods tandem. The drive up was not without potential consequences however. While directly behind a huge pea gravel semi truck we witnessed not one but two of the giant trucks tires, rim and all, separate themselves from the rig. One tire was of special concern when it stayed rolling into the oncoming traffic. Fortunately it passed between two groups of cars and continued on its malevolent journey without causing a calamity.
     A few hours later further misfortune, howbeit of much less significance was averted when the Michigan State Police suggested it was a poor idea to travel 83 in a 70 mph zone especially with 3 boats atop my truck. My luck, however, would not hold out for much longer. When we stopped at the "Straits Of Mackinaw" to gas up I commented on how cold it was and without hesitation Alex pegged me with the ignominious nickname of "Florida Girl". This moniker was to be employed, amongst much chuckling I might add, whenever fitting.
     The following morning found our boats and gear as well as 30 or so other passengers on the deck of the Isle Royale Queen awaiting transport. A chilly and smooth 4 hours later we were deposited at Rock Harbor which is the jumping off point for the majority of visitors to the park. After the obligatory backcountry orientation and check in with the Ranger station we snatched up a shelter. These shelters were protected on 3 sides by wood planking, had a roof and a screened front. A screen door allowed access. The 4 of us found them comfy enough and saved some time as far as setting up and breaking down traditional camps. It should be noted that the shelters are quite limited and available only on the shoreline of Lake Superior and are absent from the interior altogether.

DAY 1, June 18
      After a very cool night we were met in the morning by a steady cool rain. This was to be our constant companion throughout the day. The next step on our trek was to take advantage of the intra costal ferry service provided by the vessel the Voyager 2. This provided us quick passage along the coastline of the island to our jumping off point. Chippewa harbor is a beautiful and protected inlet and it was here where we would start our paddling adventure. We again made use of a shelter relishing the respite from the cold rain. Hot food and hot drinks followed by some suitable changes of attire for the day set the stage for what followed.
     It was agreed that Dan would leave first and scout ahead to see if the campsite on Wood Lake was available. Tim and Alex would follow shortly and I would bring up the rear. Dan, traveling lightly as is his custom, made Wood Lake in good time and finding the highly regarded real estate empty laid claim to it. The day continued on breezy, wet and cold. The two .6 mile portages were not especially tough but seemed punishing for the remainder of our group especially right out of the chute.
     I arrived at Wood Lake in the late afternoon to find our party firmly ensconced and set up. I was pleased to find a peninsula site unoccupied and quickly set about the task of making a temporary home. Right at dark a rather troubling incident occurred when Tim sought me out. Despite having been tucked  into a zero degree down bag he was having trouble getting warm and mentioned that he seemed "out of sorts". We both suspected hypothermia and set about rectifying the situation. We plied him with hot food and drinks and he immediately felt better. Fatigue, coupled with being cold and wet had contributed to him feeling poorly. Hot food was the fuel his body was lacking.

DAY 2, June 19
     The day dawned overcast and breezy but apparently it had rained itself out for the time being. I set about the task of drying clothing while Dan and Alex took the Northwoods out for a spin to wet a line. Alex was promptly rewarded with a 9lb pike which put a wide toothy grin on the young mans mug.
     The day turned sunny and nice and although sorely tempted I resisted the siren call of casting a lure and instead focused on my campsite and gear. Only after my clothing was dried and stowed did I push off into the clear waters of Wood Lake. Fishing proved to be good for size but not numbers. I connected with one 7.5lb pike and one dandy 14lb pike. Unfortunately the larger of the two had swallowed the lure and the blood trail issuing from its gills made it obvious that it would not be a candidate for the usual practice of releasing fish of substantial size. I placed it on the stringer to see if it would revive but as expected it soon expired. The fish was put to good use however and it provided a hearty meal not only for our party of 4 but for 3 other paddlers who had arrived as well.

DAY 3, June 20
     The day started overcast and breezy. Again Dan departed first bound for Lake Ritchie and its reputed fabulous pike fishing. The rest of our party achieved a much later start. This was to be a major contributing factor in the division of our forces.
     As Tim, Alex and I left Wood Lake's small channel that connected it with enormous Siskiwit Lake, I couldn't help but look longingly at the large body of water in hopes of exploring it some day. As we weaved our way through the assorted islands and shoals I was relieved that we were in the lee of the lake as the windward side would be quite punishing. We scampered across the .5 mile portage to Intermediate lake and was greeted by modest whitecaps. We hugged the shoreline and passed without consequence. Another .5 mile portage put us on Lake Ritchie. Being of substantial size the wind was able to gain more purchase and the end result was that we were looking at 3' whitecaps. After some brief discussion, which was influenced by the glowering skies, we retreated to Intermediate Lake to establish camp. I entertained myself that evening by watching small pike jump completely out of the water to crush my large topwater lure.........good fun!

DAY 4, June 21
     Rain, rain, rain! The rain and wind continued unabated throughout the night and into the following day and continued on throughout the next night. Obviously a major weather system was upon us and we spent the vast majority of our time hunkered in our tents or under the rainfly. The steadily falling temps certainly prompted suspicions of arctic air and its eventual arrival but we had no way of knowing. Our thoughts and conversation drifted to our detached companion only a mile or so distant and how he might be faring under the adverse conditions. It had been cold and wet and windy now for almost 40 straight hours and still showed no signs of improvement. We were eager to see what  tomorrow would bring.

DAY 5, June 22
     Another day on the big island and another somber and grey dawn was upon us. The gusts of wind were decreasing in severity however and we broke camp under a modest sprinkle. We negotiated the previously accomplished portage once again to gain access to Lake Ritchie. A .5 mile paddle put us into the canoe campground where we reestablished contact with Dan. He had fared rather well in the big blow by expertly erecting his rainfly in such a fashion that it not only shed the rain but blocked the wind as well.
     After setting up camp we set about sampling the waters of Lake Ritchie eager to exploit its reputation as a fine pike fishery. Indeed it reputation proved well deserved as pike after pike found their way onto almost any lure thrown. It soon became apparent however, that any fish over 27" was going to be hard to come by. After an evening pow-wow we decided to press on the following day and cross 3 lakes and the famed Greenstone Ridge to land on Lake Chickenbone in order to pursue the more desirable walleyes that were to be found in the oddly named body of water.

DAY 6, June 23
     Cool and gloomy had been the watchwords as far as weather was concerned and today was no different. For my part though I was rather pleased as I knew that we had set upon some tough work and I much prefer cool and gloomy to hot and sunny.
     Before we set out Dan conveyed some information to us that he had gleaned from another paddler. This unfortunate person had mistakenly failed to exit the hiking trail onto the portage trail when it split. Naturally this error added substantially in terms of physical toll as one is inclined to just keep on walking down the wrong pathway. Dan apprised us of the potential for mishap and we all just shook our heads confident in our ability to avoid such a distasteful miscue. Alas, several hours later Dan, Alex and I looked at eachother on the shores of Lake LeSage and wondered just where "Big Daddy" Tim Cornelius and the 18' tandem were. In his defense I will admit to almost passing the trail myself and had I been carrying a larger boat I might have been in Tim's muukluks. Twenty minutes later the Northwoods arrived underpinned by one tired fellow whose left arm had gone numb. This will be another event in canoe tripping lore which will be chuckled about around the campfire for years to come.
     We gained Lake Chickenbone after a surprisingly easy ascent of the Greenstone Ridge. Lake Chickenbone was particularly picturesque with a sprinkling of birch trees near the shore. These contrasted nicely with the verdant green of the forested ridges. What made it doubly pleasing was that the weather had finally improved and we set up camp under continually improving conditions.

DAY 7, June 24
     At last, sun, sun, sun! Our layover day on Lake Chickenbone was especially pleasing. Lines were strung in order to dry clothes and bodies were washed in the invigorating but tolerable water of the lake.
     Sometime after noon I decided to ply the dark waters in hopes of securing a walleye dinner. After some trial and error, 4 nice fat walleyes found their way onto my stringer and a fabulous feast soon ensued from our ravenous company. After cleanup the boats were again launched with Tim's son Alex and I teaming up in the tandem. The young man proved an especially quick study and he out fished his more experienced cohort 2 nice walleye to none!

DAY 8, June 25
     Camp was struck starting at 4:20 A.M.. We had a 1.2 mile portage into McCargo Cove (part of Lake Superior) and none of us wanted to accomplish that during the heat of the day. The miler proved fairly easy and we arrived at the cement pier installed by the park service in short order. The 2 mile long fiord like cove is considered a highlight amongst many Isle Royale paddlers and now I understood why. High cliff like bluffs encapsulate each side and the resultant rugged beauty coupled with the clear waters caused an inevitable reflective pause.
     Unable to resist we quickly rigged our rods in hopes of engaging some of the large but fickle northern pike that inhabit the cool Superior waters. Dan and I launched first and I let the gentle winds push me along the shoreline while I cast. Meanwhile Alex had decided to make a few casts off the cement dock while his Dad readied their canoe.
     My words will probably not do justice to the event that followed but I will endeavor to relate it as it was told to me. Alex had cast out a rather large floating-diving lure and while reeling in had turned his head to converse with his Dad when suddenly the water quite literally exploded. An enormous pike was 1/2 way out of the water with the lure clenched firmly in its jaws. The visage was so stunning that no action but wide eyed wonder was taken at the other end of the line. The behemoth, sensing a fake, let go its grip of the painted piece of wood and swam right up to the dock only a few feet from Alex, seemingly to taunt him. Alex, slowly recovering himself, made several casts but was unable to entice the fish further. He later stated that the fish was "huge" and "as big as me". Many pike are caught in Lake Superior waters between 20 and 30lbs so I, for one, don't doubt the veracity of the lads tale. As for Alex, he remained despondent and sullen for several hours after the incident as I'm sure he replayed the giant fishes strike and wondered.........."what if"?
     We traversed McCargo Cove in about 2 hours either casting or trolling under nearly ideal conditions. Upon landing at Birch Island the crux of our trip was now upon us. Would we be able to negotiate the 1.5 mile open water stretch of Lake Superior. We hiked across the tiny island to gain a view of Lake Superior proper and what she might offer. Although the day was especially calm I couldn't help but note the distinctive sound of heavy rollers hitting the shore. I was torn between giving it a go or waiting for the usual morning calm. To complicate matters a weather change was in the air. We could very likely awake to 5' whitecaps instead of calm waters. After a brief discussion our party opted for a morning crossing. There is no room for error in an open boat like a canoe on the frigid waters of Lake Superior. We decided to see what the morrow brought with the understanding that the Voyager 2 could be relied upon as a last resort as it made a stop in McCargo Cove three times per week.
     The wind increased during the night and I couldn't help but second guess our decision to stay. I had been in favor of waiting until morning and now the approaching front looked to be in the process of sabotaging our much anticipated tour of the "Five Fingers" region.

DAY 9, June 26
     There was no eagerness to depart the warmth of our sleeping bags. The noise of the wind and waves led to the assumption that our crossing was out of the question. But a casual glance of the conditions showed that the wind had shifted during the night and our crossing would be done in the lee of the big  island. Another glance at the sky forewarned us of imminent weather that would soon be upon us. A hasty departure was called for lest we miss our opportunity. Donning our rain jackets and life vests we greeted the oft referred "Lady". The cold air was like a wall, harsh but yet invigorating. We rode gentle swells amongst the rocky rugged shoreline for the 40 minutes it took to get to the short portage that led to the more protected waters we would traverse. We breakfasted on the rocky shore, our lightness of heart restored after negotiating the cruelly beautiful lake Superior shoreline.
     The short portage was done in a flash and the narrow, long and largely protected bays in which we would paddle amongst today was a welcome sight. Never one to miss a fishing opportunity I quickly set about rigging a trolling rod and landed a delicious lake trout in short order.
     I suggested to Tim and Alex that they do likewise and that prompts another tale concerning Alex. Naturally the father and son duo heeded my advice and soon thereafter they were paddling along with their rods firmly planted in rod holders, lures trailing happily behind. Suddenly Alex's rod bent double in a wide stiff arc. Alex was quick to suspect a rock and quickly instructed his Dad to turn the boat around to retrieve the errant lure. After some yanking and pulling it was with great surprise that the line was moving of its own accord! The math was quickly computed and exclamations of a fish of considerable size were raucously proclaimed. Minutes later an 8lb lake trout would make an appearance as a dinner guest.
     We arrived at Duncan Harbor in good time and were quite pleased at the campsite and the views it provided. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and again a park service shelter provided a dry sanctuary from the hard rain and occasional lightening strike.

DAY 10, June 27
     We had not fared well the previous evening in trying to get one of the Duncan Bay Pike to commit to eating. Today, however, we had a full day to concentrate our efforts. We all ventured forth in opposing directions hopeful of making a big fish connection. The day was truly stellar, the weather having settled from the previous evening. It was calm, sunny and the air seemed extremely clear. The lush green ridges and clear blue sky coupled with the hardness of the rock and perfect emerald green clarity of the water worked its magic and I was grateful to be in such a beautiful and spectacular place.
     The hours went by and my casts seemed as if being done by a machine. Coves and points and likely looking shore cover all received attention from a variety of offerings but to no avail. Still, given the surroundings, it was a pleasurable enough day. Hard effort is often rewarded and today that axiom proved true. I pulled into a still, small cove having a smattering of weeds. I could see bottom plainly enough in the crystal clear waters and for all intents and purposes it looked to be completely devoid of life. "Might as well" I muttered to myself as I tossed the big lure out. Immediately a missile rocketed up from the bottom, seemingly out of nowhere, and attacked the lure. A 5lb pike was quickly landed as one twice that size had followed his struggling brethren to the boats side. Another cast and another fish but this time it was a pike of some size who had decided to muscle its way in. Again I flung the big lure out only to have it followed by another pike in the 10lb class. It stopped at the boats side and we eyed each other. I let the lure sink slowly and then gave it a little hop. In the wink of an eye the fish struck and I swung and missed! Fun stuff here!
     I decided to press on and sample the rest of the small bay. I was most of the way around without so much as a strike when I looked into the water only to see a pike pushing 20lbs glide by. A hopeful quick cast proved inconsequential and all I could do about it was smile.

DAY 11: June 28
     Today was our last full day on the island before we were to grab the ferry home so we decided on doing a bushwack to a small lake that I had some previous experience on. An early start was attained and firmly fortified with oats and coffee we geared up for the unexpected and ventured forth eager to see what the day had in store.
     As per my custom I chucked a large lure to trail behind as I made my way to the agreed upon portage. I hadn't gone 20 feet when the stiff musky rod bent double and I instantly knew I was into a good fish. I snatched the rod from the rod holder just in time to feel the fish power the heavy line off the reel in a sustained burst. My thinking instantly went from my adversary being a "good fish" to perhaps being a "very good fish". Another burst put the fish into some tall weeds where I could feel it shaking its head trying to remove the big marabou spinner. Eager to pry the fish out before another run put the fish into the weeds even deeper I applied more pressure.
     I will never know just how big the fish was as the line finally had enough pressure on it to give way. What happened next will forever be implanted in my canoeing DNA. Yup, over I went! The sudden release of tension sent my body sideways just as easily as you please. I remember being perpendicular to the water just before I went completely over and how strange everything looked sideways.
     I found myself with the boat upside down and my head just barely above water. I was hanging onto my vessel but was not especially comfortable with my new found position. At that moment my hydrostatic inflatable PFD went off and the 35lbs of buoyancy burst forth and floated my head free of the water. My next thought was to give a holler to my companions who had outdistanced me a considerable length. I grabbed my capsized vessel and commenced kicking toward shore. Fortunately the wind aided my efforts and 10 minutes later I reached shore just as my companions arrived. I was flabbergasted to find that somehow, in spite of lying loosely, both of my rod and reel combos had somehow managed to stay with me. The outfit I had been holding was actually floating and bobbing along behind the boat with my paddle right alongside of it. In fact, every single article of gear, from dry bags to bailer and all my fishing tackle was present and accounted for. Rather odd to say the least!
     After a brief discussion, in which mental notes were taken and filed about what not to do with heavy line and a big fish, we made our way back to camp where I dried off and put fresh clothes on. Soon thereafter a Park Ranger appeared and the tale was retold. After further pleasantries the Ranger informed us of the potential for severe weather. This revelation prompted some chatter amongst our group and it was decided to change our plans and take advantage of the cool, dry and sunny day to traverse our most difficult portage immediately instead of giving it a go when the rock was wet. Besides the snack bar, replete with burgers and sodas was beckoning.
     The .8 mile portage was by far the toughest in the park. Its steepness required switchbacks to gain the crest of the Greenstone Ridge. But all was done under perfect conditions and we took the big portage in stride. That afternoon found our party back at Rock Harbor and reminiscing about a very satisfactory trip over a cheeseburger and fries.

IF YOU GO:
     Isle Royale is indeed a beautiful place. The park service does a fine job in maintaining portages and trails. Portages may be long (ours were usually 1/2 mile in length) but they are generally dry, well marked and in good shape.
     The weather and the cold Lake Superior waters are your primary concern. We endured a week of cold, rainy and windy weather. As a result, one in our party could of been in potential trouble due primarily to rain gear that did not perform as advertised (in spite of being high dollar). For the most part we fared very well as we were amply supplied with gore-tex, fleece, wool and down. The backcountry of Isle Royale is no place for cotton and cheap ponchos. You must be prepared to deal with very cool nights and the potential for long bouts of wind and rain. Influencing the weather is Lake Superior. Even in summer the water temperature is very, very cold. Needless to say if you overturn a boat far from shore without assistance the consequences could be dire indeed.
     The planning is easy as there is much information both in print and on the web concerning paddling or hiking on the island. Give it a go, you might find it much as I did, an overlooked gem!

Basswood/2012

DAY 1/Aug 4

     I had barely gotten to sleep and then it was time to wake. It was 3A.M. and time to take Lori and mary to the Minneapolis airport. I was grateful for the early start as the envisioned nightmare of rush hour was still but a mirage. I arrived at Judy's Cafe in Two Harbors some 3 hours later and was at moose Lake in a little over 4 hours. Quite the contrast to the 22 hours it usually takes from Michigan.

     I had turned it over and over in my mind, that is, wether to take a water taxi to Prairie Portage or just paddle the 7 miles or so. Why not save the $45 I mused. Besides, I had to make use of that big breakfast. Despite months of eager anticipation I was feeling a bit melancholy. Was it the drizzling rain?  Perhaps the departure of my loved ones? Or would it be the omnipresent pile of work that needed attention? I pushed it all aside and loaded up. Despite the 18' length of the recently acquired canoe/kayak hybrid it was still loaded to overflowing. "Only 1 portage" had been my mantra.

      A seriously stiff wind aided me and I felt vaguely guilty as I sped past numerous canoes as they inched along in the opposing direction muttering against their nemesis. The new vessel, a Superior Expedition, was an absolute joy to paddle and my mood gradually improved. Corrective paddle strokes were now a thing of the past as slight adjustments of the foot controlled rudder came into play.
     My eagerness to arrive at Prairie Portage was tempered by the fact that my entry date was not for 2 more days. Would they let me in early? They might let me in 1 day early I reasoned but probably not 2. I found a beautiful campsite on Moose lake and decided to hole up. Points surrounded by water on 3 sides are far and away my favorites. This site also had the most perfect landing I had ever seen. Fishing that evening was poor. I marveled however at the new depth finder and just how nimble the big boat was. Trolling a contour line was going to be a blast.
     I had spent the early afternoon reading Cheryl Strayed's book "Wild" and after some evening fishing  I continued reading far into the night by headlamp. This girl is a train wreck I thought. I couldn't help but juxtapose her with my wife of 24 years who is the finest person I know of. Nevertheless, the prose and subject manner were engaging and the hours slipped by.

DAY 2/Aug 5

     The wind had honked mostly all night and I awoke to a delicious coolness. The wind had blown the clouds and the heat out and with it the humidity. I struggled to get out of my down bag. The toastiness of down booties reenforcing my reluctance. More reading, lots of coffee and zero bugs made for a very pleasant morning. Even the drone of an occasional water taxi couldn't dispel the magic of the morning.
     After a modest bowl of oats I was off. Just before the Canadian ranger station called Prairie Portage I eyed a couple of coves of drowned timber. "Might be some nice largemouth bass in there" I muttered aloud. I had barely paddled an hour but I was already feeling tired. What a putz I thought. I pulled into a campsite just around the corner from the portage. A debate ensued. Part of me wanted to set up camp again. I was already hungry, the wind was cranked up, the drowned timber in the coves called softly. Besides, my permit wasn't until tomorrow. After a raisin bagel slathered in Nutella the other part of me found its footing......."Come on, lets get going"...........In the end I pictured the big waves on Basswood and how an early morning start would be so much more relaxing. I laughed as I thought about taking 2 days to paddle Moose lake. Time for some more reading under the shade of a tree, life is good!
     The drowned timber in the coves looked promising. The larger of the two had weeds and bait but no takers. I trolled and cast the basin and found a wall which had some local residents, all smallmouth bass.....mostly piddly with one decent one crashing the party. I returned to camp before the mosquitos took flight as it seemed the site could be buggy if it were so inclined. After some more reading I nodded off only to be awakened by a bright light shining through my tent wall. It reminded me of a flashlight but I knew it was the moon, big and bright. This needs to be a night fishing trip and I considered making my way into North Bay the following day. Go far and work my way back seemed like a sound strategy. Better double the food ration come morning.

DAY 3/Aug 6

     The morning was dribbling away. I had been drinking coffee and reading. As I finished part 3 I let out a loud deep chortle. It reminded me of how Santa Claus might sound after stuffing some bad kids stocking full of coal....."Ho, Ho Ho".........I was already pushing the thought of "no book to read, what now" away. Time to get rolling. At Prairie Portage I came across an elderly couple trying to get their kayaks across via wheeled aids. Of course the concept was folly and probably illegal in the Quetico as well. My eyes widened when they said they had lots of portaging to do. Before they shoved off I tried to plant a seed and save them some misery. ""I'm staying on Basswood" I exclaimed, "You could probably spend a whole week just paddling and exploring" I chirped optimistically. But of course he had a plan (Later in the week I spotted their Kayaks near Ranger bay).
      I hit Bayley Bay feeling elated but with some apprehension. A storm was brewing and it was big whitecaps as far as I could see. I eased out into waves that would stop most canoes. But I was slowly finding out this was not most canoes. The big boat bobbed right along with only moderate concern of broaching in the surf. "Nice" I softly said while I pulled into the lee of Sunday Island. I thought about donning my poncho and eating a Cliff Bar while the storm hit. My destination had been North Bay but then I started considering......"what if this was the start of 2 days of rain"? Up went the rain tarp and a new home was established. Of course the cell passed and the wind laid but I like my new home and I might even stay a few days.

     What a difference a lake makes. My August canoe country fishing jinx is officially over. Once I found the right spots I caught numerous smallmouth bass as well as 7 eater sized walleyes (including 3 walleyes in the weedbeds of Sunday bay right at dark).

DAY 4/Aug 7

     The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. I am again stuck in my sleeping bag all while peering out at the faint predawn light knowing I should be on the water. More reading, writing and drinking coffee.This could be my new tripping style......move 2 miles, set up camp and read. HA! But the fun will soon be coming to an end as I am 3/4 of the way through her book. Perhaps then I will get serious about putting some good sized fish in the boat.
     According to my phone it is 1P.M.. I had turned it on to see if I had service and was just able to say "Hi Honey" before she was dropped. I have been sitting in camp all day. Finished up with Miss Strayed book and enjoyed it tremendously. It was obvious she has a knack for words or spent an inordinate amount of time in the books writing.......most likely both.
     My site is a mess. Strewn about with the mornings goings on. Evidence of a breakfast, a shower/bath of sorts, sundry clothing tossed about and a miserable attempt at some lemon poppy seed muffins all on full display. Time to reorganize and hopefully catch a few small walleyes in Sunday Bays weedbeds for tonights dinner. Then an early start and off to North Bay in the morning.

DAY 5/August 8

     August fishing jinx? Not only was it officially over it had been certifiably crushed. Yesterday afternoon I fished Sunday Bays weedbeds for the small walleyes i knew resided there. No dice. On a whim I walked North Portage (no small walleyes there either). Instead I turned my attention to a reef I had found the previous day in Bayley Bay. Each pass over the reef resulted in a walleye. The bigger ones were on the edges in 39ft and the smaller ones were on top in 24ft. Fortunately I don't think anyone was around as my hootin and hollering on the big ones probably carried quite a ways. A personal best in the quetico came aboard at 7lbs as well as its near twin at 6.5. Several 4lbers added to the fun as well as a healthy dose of 18 inchers kept my line tight. This was by far the best walleye fishing I had ever experienced out of a canoe. The closer it got to dark the better they bit. I suspected they would continue biting after dark but after an hour and a half of reeling fish in I  had had enough.
     This morning is gloomy and cool and it seems like it wants to rain. Time for a walleye breakfast and then hit the trail. Seems a pity......I have worked hard and found an excellent smallmouth area as well as a walleye reef. Both spots are loaded. The fish seem to be very concentrated. The new depth finder has been key. Not only telling me the depth but helping ascertain the makeup of the bottom. Trees, weeds, rocks, hard or soft bottom and of course fish all show in amazing detail. Cheating? You bet!
     Before leaving my island home I decided to do a little exploratory and found another site I like even better. "Can't wait to take the guys here" I opined. As I examined the canoe landing my eyes fell on a canoe paddle. This was not an ordinary paddle but a carbon fiber bent shaft. For all intents and purposes it looked like a gift. After all, I reasoned, no one has been here for 2 days. Still, I could not bring myself to take it. I will be back this way in 7 days and if no one has claimed it by then it will have a new owner.
     Time to see if I can make North Bay, set up as well as catch a few fish along the way and do it all before dark. I give myself a 50/50 chance and won't be surprised either way.
     What a day! Thank you Lord! Bayley Bay was flat calm and I shot across the middle making good time. A right turn and I was in Merriman Bay. Todays lure du-jur was an old favorite. A rainbow trout colored long A bomber. On the 30lb braid I was ticking bottom in 35ft of water. Round we went, my old friend and I, along the 30 and 40ft contour lines in Merriman bay. Within 10 minutes I had a humongous strike, epic in its savagery. The long 8' rod with the line counter reel had bent double very quickly indeed. In a few short minutes I was eye to eye with a pike of about 37 inches.....all nasty teeth with a malevolent and unpredictable nature. I thought caution was the better part of valor and I towed the fish to shore where I got out to release it. It was long and lean but thick across the back with a sizable head it was a respectable catch at 9lbs on the boga grips certified scale. Fun!

     I continued along in Merriman Bay following the tips of the islands until one island that was on the map failed to show. "Lousy mapmakers" had been my initial inclination. I hadn't even considered bringing a compass on this trip. Onward I went towards what I hoped would be Canadian Point when suddenly I had another awesome strike. I cranked what I thought would be another Pike up but instead it was a big, fat largemouth bass. Stunned, I stopped reeling. She looked at me and I at her......then she gave a great leap and threw off her captor. Imagine that, a big largemouth down at 30 ft.
     My doubts persisted as to my location and I grabbed the map up. "Went here....Yup"......"then there, Yup"......"and then past the missing Island"..................."For Pete's sake just paddle around the corner and make a right". All was as I thought and I made my way around Canadian Point in the still calm conditions all while following the 30 and 40 ft depths. Another nice pike came aboard, a virtual twin of the first one. A third soon followed out of 60ft of water but it was smaller. Odd, I would of thought the biggest one would of come out of the deeper water but such is fishing. I continued on towards North Bay and in the area where Basswood narrows down I had another nice strike. Up comes another big beautiful walleye.......long and thick and weighing exactly 6lbs. Try as I might I was unable to revive the fish. This was not a fish to leave for the eagles and I sought for another group of campers to give the prize to.
     Onward I went with a sudden freshening wind and glowering skies. My luck had held throughout the day but I knew it couldn't last. Finally I had arrived at North Bay. My ultimate destination was the north end of the bay and I was contemplating making my way around when suddenly I had de-ju-vu. I had been here before a few summers past while heading to a little secluded cove. I paused......I could continue on my pre-destined route with a few hours of paddling yet in increasingly poor weather all to arrive at a campsite that was likely already taken or I could paddle a brief distance and set up. The little rocky peninsula of sorts was unoccupied and I was delighted. I quickly set about setting up camp as rain seemed imminent. My timing couldn't of been more perfect. I even managed to cook and eat all but 2 pieces of the walleye. Everything was in order as darkness fell and the skeets took wing.
     Soon after the rain started. I could hear it coming and it sounded like a living entity as it made its way. The deluge was fairly brief but intense. I drifted off to sleep but was awakened by a distinct noise coming from the direction of my dry bags. Instantly the memories of a bear that had left its track in the mud at the door to my companions and I tent and had batted around a dry bag and then snuffled inches from my arm with only a thin piece of nylon between us one rainy night a few years back came flooding in. "It's just the wind and the rain" I told myself until I became convinced otherwise. I sat up and unsheathed my Seal Pup knife. The fly on my tent fluttered creating a shadow directly in front of me and a wave of fear passed through me. "Dang bears.....why did I ever read that book about bear attacks"? I could of went through my outdoor adventures without a care in the world. Truly, ignorance is bliss. I donned my headlamp and quietly unzipped my tent door to observe all was exactly as I had left it.

 DAY 6/Aug 9

     I slept very well encased in a down and fleece and riding on a layer of air. I believe strongly in the restorative powers of a good nights sleep. I had put in a good days work yesterday and had felt good about it. My weak first days had been mildly disconcerting but I seem to be back to my old self. I think the many cups of Gatorade may have had something to do with my rebound.
     The wind is unbelievably fierce this morning and my tarp is taking some punishment despite having used all my lines to secure it. I pity any canoeist who needs to make tracks today. It is also rather cold. I will give myself 2 days to paddle what took 1 day when I decide to return. Yesterday was a gift.
     The wind honked mostly all day but I still put some time in and was rewarded with yet another 6lb walleye. The poor fish had eaten a muskie in-line spinnerbait and the 8/0 hooks had lodged in her gills. I knew she was done for as soon as I lifted her from the water and saw the flow of crimson. So far I haven't been especially kind to the inhabitants of the park. 2 big walleyes dead and earlier today I stepped full weight on a middlin sized toad. I like toads and encourage them on my property in Florida thinking they probably keep the bad spider population down.

  DAY 7/Aug 10

      I fished a few hours after dark last night but no takers. The wind had finally laid and the stars were out. Slept well, in fact to well and didn't roll out until the sun was over the horizon. An absolutely gorgeous morning. A cold front had piled through and it was now cool, calm and cloudless. Tough for fishing but good for relaxing and drinking coffee. Did I mention no bugs? I might learn to like this August tripping after all!
     Today I will focus on trying to catch a lake trout. I have done a fair amount of trolling out deep but no lakers. What's up with that? I like catching them as they can tug hard. Tomorrow I'll pull out and portage into Dahlberg lake and try and connect with some smallmouths that have some shoulders. After that I'll drop back into Basswood but on into Ranger Bay. Looks like I will be bypassing my old stomping grounds but given my druthers I always like to go someplace new.
     But first the lakers. I will be digging out a few tricks that I have brought along. I have an outstanding amount of tackle at my disposal both in terms of rods/reels as well as a virtual arsenal of lures and diving aids. I have no regrets and have in fact made it a point to try new things. What is a bit preposterous however is the amount of food I have brought. It probably stems back to the day my mother dropped my friends and I off at a gravel pit to fish for a day. We brought no food except for a lemon, fish fry and a few pieces of bread. Our intent was to cook the numerous perch that so frequently found their way onto our lines. Needless to say that nary a perch was to be had on that trip and we were miserable lads indeed. I have oatmeal, bagels and Nutella spread. I have Pan-Asian just add water dinners as well as just add water mac/cheese. How about ketchup, tortilla shells, rice, refried beans and salsa. Then there is fish meal and oil and numerous Cliff Bars and muffin mixes. Add gatorade, hot chocolate and buckets of coffee to wash it all down and a picture starts to develop. Funny thing is that I hardly eat.......breakfast and lunch sure but rarely any dinner. I'm laughing and shaking my head. In any event I'm well prepared for any errant Boy Scout Troop......."help yourself lads......there's plenty for all.....stay in line......don't push"
      What a day! I geared up with a big dipsy diver and a flutter spoon and began dragging it in 70 and 80ft of water. What a workout even with the bigger boat. A few hours of that and I was done trying for lakers. To much work with no results. I came back to camp and decided for stealth mode. My 9' steelhead rod and 8lb green xt was the combo. I selected a lure that an on-line acquaintance had suggested. I had met Kurt (quetikurt) on a canoeing forum and during a few shared dinners he revealed his pet crankbait. Super guy, I hope to do a trip with him someday. Of course a big part of fishing is doing things your own way so I opted for my own choice when it came to color combos. Back out I went following the 20 and 30 ft depths that pike, bass and walleye are known to frequent. Rewards were quick to follow and I quickly boated 2 bass and 1 pike. Then "it" happened.........."KER-POW" and then "ZING" went my drag. My response was to gasp "Oh Momma". I knew Mr Big had shown up. The line surged deep, a sure sign of what a big fish does when it is in trouble. We went back and forth for about 5 minutes. I will never forget when I first laid eyes on the fish because it was so unexpected. There before me was a big fat Lake trout. The fish was belly up so I parked the boat and then sat in the water for close to an hour trying to revive the fish. When she stopped breathing I was miffed as I thought for sure she would recover. I felt absolutely sick about it and some of my joy was taken away. I went to a nearby rock point where I photographed and weighed the fish. She was between 14.5 and 15lbs. She beat my old mark by almost double.

     I caught 3 more lake Trout in like manner and all were released without fault. I had foul hooked 1 8lber up near the shoulders and had initially thought I had a fish much larger than the big slob I had caught earlier. After some dinner I went back out for round 2 but was only able to connect with 1 more lake Trout but that didn't really matter as I was surrounded by so much of God's beauty.

DAY 8/Aug 11

     I slept like a rock but was finally up and at them before the sun cracked the sky. This morning is a total whiteout. Foggy as can be but I know it will burn off. I struck camp and was greeted by flat calm conditions. Time for a change in plans. I couldn't waste the opportunity to explore on such a becalmed day as this and decided to make my way around American point and into Ranger Bay but still wind up in Dahlberg lake but come in from the opposite side of the big peninsula. Off I went and soon came into a deep basin of sorts and caught several nice fish including another 9lb pike and several smaller ones. All were released with the exception of one unlucky shore member guest. The fish was excellent but the just add water Mac/cheese was so bad I literally couldn't eat it and was actually offended that such a company as Kraft would sell something so atrocious.
     I had caught the pike and a good smallmouth by trolling a dipsy diver and a flutter spoon in 30 and 40ft of water and by the time I went around the point and into Ranger Bay I was feelin the effects of dragging the dipsy, it can certainly give you a workout.
     Into Dahlberg I went portaging up and over a little hump and being hopeful the single solitary 5 star campsite was unoccupied. Hurrah, no one was home! I quickly checked in and set up camp. This site is a winner......shady, elevated and open with great views. Dahlberg is primarily a Bass and Pike lake and I will give them a go tomorrow. So glad for the wonderful day.

  DAY 9/Aug 12

      I was awakened in the wee hours of the early morning by what seemed to be a loud crashing sound. My mind went immediately went to my bear canister. I listened briefly before donning my sandals and doing the requisite investigation. All was as it should be with my canister inside a black stuff sack and doing a perfect imitation of a rock.
     There is something special about this site. First off, the mosquitos are conspicuous by their absence. Secondly, there is quite a bit of wildlife activity. Birds and squirrels, loons and herons, otters and beavers, hummingbirds and whiskey Jacks have all made a breakfast appearance. I observed something sort of interesting this morning as a family of otters travelled the far shoreline of the little cove I am on. A Great Blue Heron would fly ahead of them and land on the bank until they were past and then fly ahead of them once again obviously hopeful the otters would push a fish into the shallows for an easy meal. I also thought it interesting when the otters clambered out onto the bank that it was the Heron, despite its size and large pointy beak, that gave ground. I have heard that otters can be tough customers.
     I have been sitting at my "Table Rock" for almost 2 hours just taking it all in as the stillness of the morning works its magic. Thus the conundrum of going solo vs group. Had I been with my usual partners there would of been much lively banter and laughter but the soul easing peace and quiet of this very special morning would of been missed. Both scenarios have their own desirable aspects.....it is enough just to be out here.
     It is now 9;35 A.M. and I am still puttering in camp. I spent some time on a cliff facing of sorts behind camp. A little walk through the woods and a little scamper up a moss covered game trail takes you to a very special place indeed with spectacular views. Time to clean up the breakfast dishes, put the camp in order and take the Expedition out for a little spin. Life is good!
     That I would catch big smallmouths was a foregone conclusion in my mind. I had been saving this spot to focus on them exclusively. But so far all I had caught was a pair of 12inchers and they joined me for some fish tacos which were super good. I had found the reefs, I had jigged plastics but the largest smallmouth I had caught was 14 inches which I took out a weedbed after I resorted to fishing for largemouths. Hurrumph!!
     Well, back to trolling the breakline. Away I went with a shiny silvery crankbait and then WHAM! Little by little the fish got bigger until I had my hands full on the 8lb line. Another nice pike. That was the 4th decent one on this trip, not bad for August I figured. Fifteen minutes later I thought I had mega-beast but it was just a mid sized piker of about 36" which was foul hooked. They can really pull when hooked up by the shoulders. Both of these pike were shallower, say about 25ft. In the evening I went back to jigging on the reefs. Endless small ones but where were the big boys and what did they want?
     Back before dark to tidy up the boat a bit. I had thought to stay an extra day here but will likely pull up stakes and start making my way back. I was glad to have already given Ranger Bay a cursory look. Very pretty area. It seems like the mouth of the bay would be susceptible to wind and waves as the steep sides funneled waves. I will have to return to give it a better sampling some day. I will shoot for Merriman Bay tomorrow if the weather holds. So far it looks like things could get iffy, as if some front is on the move. A weather radio might be a prudent item on these sorts of trips where portaging is infrequent.

DAY 10/Aug 13

     Awake very early and eager to get going. Is daylight ever going to come? The wind has been on and off all night. At the very least I will portage out of Dahlberg come morning. I had the tent and tarp struck before the sun was up. Just finished breakfast. Very overcast, wind light but for how long? Just getting into the swing of things and it's almost time to go home, figures.
     After leaving Dahlberg I was crossing a deep basin of sorts and since the wind was light I flipped out a new crankbait. In 55ft of water I had a jolting strike......fish on! I was totally astonished when I landed a 3.5lb smallmouth. I could see fish on the bottom in 55ft on my depth finder so I made another pass and was rewarded with a 4lb smallmouth (the largest of the trip) again out of 55ft of water. I made a few more passes and another smallie showed up as well as a smallish pike. After filing all the info into my grey matter I continued around White Island. I was intent on checking out a campsite where some other fisherman had been staying. It was near the place where I had trolled up a nice walleye on the way in and when I had offered the fish they declined saying they were "full up". That caught my interest. Unfortunately some other campers had taken up residence but I continued on and popped a nice smallmouth near where I had caught the good Walleye. This new crankbait is the ticket, a real winner. The bad news is the blasted thing is expensive and it took me a while to pull the trigger. Now I wished I hadn't because I know I will have to have an assortment.
     I put the lure away as the wind was kickin. I had made the run under flat calm conditions but now the payback was here. The big boat did great though and I arrived at Sunday island with a several hours of daylight left. The only time things got dicey was surfing big rollers which had been funneled into the gap of Sunday island, that caught my attention. The rest of the run was through a 2.5ft chop which made for some interest as I made my way. Unfortunately I did not arrive with my new favorite crankbait . Just past Canadian point I had hooked a real nice fish but the wind was wanting to blow me out to sea in a hurry and while fumbling around I had cut the line on my rudder. Lesson learned, bye-bye lure.
     It is a good run from the Lake Trout spot to Sunday Island but entirely doable with the right mindset. Both trips I fished quite a bit and on todays route I made a foray into the back of Merrimans bay which was very nice. Now the question is if the wind will lay so I can make the paddle to the walleye reef at dark thirty. Last week was way to much fun and I had wished for some of my pals to have shared the experience with. But now I know so much more and should be able to share some of that experience. "First thing guys is to buy one of these crankbaits and deliver it to me unopened"..........."And then make sure you have one for yourself"........
     And what of the paddle? Of course it is gone. Hopefully the original owner returned but if not perhaps it will be put to use. What do I need with 2 carbon fiber paddles? The wind is laying down nicely and after a second cup of hot chocolate out I go. The reef is more extensive than I had initially realized. I;m marking lots of fish but no takers. I had opted for braid and the big bomber lure but no dice. I can't help but believe if I had my new super secret crankbait and straight 8lb mono I would be haulin them in again. Still some value in tonight though as I spent some time looking the spot over (And it's mine, all mine, Muhahhahaha!!!).......ahem.

   

DAY 11/Aug 14

A fine beautiful morning. I have noticed more bird and squirrel activity on the nice mornings as opposed to the gloomy ones. I slept very soundly last night. I had to dig to make it back to camp last night after trolling but I settled in with only 2 skeets in the tent to have to launch the "search and destroy" mission against. The next time I awake it was morning. Wow! The wind must have taken it out of me yesterday. But I feel great and am ready to do it all again. Still some 8 miles or so left to paddle out, then onto Chicago. It has been a very pleasurable trip, superb actually and I am filled with gratitude to the Lord of Heaven and Earth who gives life and breath to all beings and is not reluctant in bestowing blessings.