Monday, June 26, 2017

We woke to a bright and shining morning. First thing I did was tie on a jig and put it out with a leech. I caught a nice smallie in the shallows just feet from camp. When my dad returned from the woods with the bear bag, we ate breakfast and then set about drying our clothes and gear in the sun. We took it easy that morning, still tired from our paddle in stayed dry and walked on small trails around the peninsula on which we were camped. We came across a (snapping?) turtle who looked like she was laying eggs.

That afternoon we paddled out into the chunk of Insula adjacent to our site. I trolled a Deep Tail Dancer as we circled The Rock. When we rounded the southern end I hooked into sizeable pike and fought it for a while as the wind picked up. Although it’s not saying much, this was probably the biggest pike I’ve hooked and I was surprised by how many runs it made. Meanwhile the sky was getting darker as a squall headed towards us across the water. Finally, I thought the fish was ready to come in and I held the line as I reached for it with my undersized net. One more big thrash and I knew my mistake as the line snapped. At the same instant the squall hit us, a cold wind picked up and it started to rain. The bright sun of that morning was nowhere to be seen and the water was dark as the exhausted pike rolled on its surface with the Tail Dancer t-boned in its mouth. We fought the wind and managed to keep the fish in view long enough to make a pass and I had its nose in my net, but my little trout net wasn’t deep enough and the weight of its tail against the water flipped the whole fish out. We scanned the choppy surface as we were buffeted by the wind but we couldn’t see the pike anymore. As quickly as it had come, the darkness and rain moved on and the warm sun shone down on us again. I vowed to buy a bigger net.

If anyone more experienced than me knows (or can guess) what becomes of fish that break off with big lures in their mouths, I’d love to know what you think. Sure, I wanted to retrieve my $11 lure, but I was more concerned about the pike. If it didn’t die of exhaustion, I assume it starved unable to shake out the solidly lodged hooks?

Disappointed by my ineptitude and careless damage to the resident of the beautiful place I was visiting, I sat around dejectedly. But it’s hard for me to stay sour for long up there and soon it was time to cook dinner. I set about preparing a boil-in-bag Indian dish. I heard a shout from the water and went over to see my dad with a fish on. He’s not a fisherman but had brought a pole along to join in with me. After he landed the nice smallie he told me with wide eyes how he had seen the fish feet from shore. He had put a leech on his jig and tossed it out nearby, assuming it would be ignored. He was amazed that the idea of fishing had actually worked. He was exhilarated and it was a great feeling to watch.

We had a fire that night with dinner and a still evening provided a peaceful view of the sun’s last rays.