eckermanmichigan.com Blog

   On the water at 0545, air temperature 60º with clear sky’s and the water temperature was 63.5º. The water looked like the Mediterranian with a heavy high pressure area over it, it looked almost like oil.

   I figured if I was going to make it out to the HOLY HOLE, this was my best chance. I’d had the charger on the battery overnight and by morning the draw was almost nil. I kept debating with myself whether to run full steam out to the spot, and hope to have enough juice to get back, or cruise out there loosing time over the HOLE. I opted to troll fast using a Rapala and then change over to a crawler harness once I arrived.

   There were two other boats fishing in that general area and from what I could tell, they wern’t having any better luck than I was. I made three passes over the HOLE and I didn’t mark any fish. The structure’s were there, and the bait fish were there, but the walleye wern’t. Beats me.

   From there I trolled along the drop-off until I got to an area where’d I’d caught bass and changed tactics. I tried a white grub, without any luck and then I tried some surface plugs. No luck there either. About then I began to wonder how much juice I still had in the battery, so I headed back. I put on a Bronze Croccadile and set the speed to medium high. As I traveled along, I could tell I’d made the right decision, it was losing fast. It never got to the point where I started throwing gear over the side, but I did find out how far that battery will last.

   I launched this morning from the Dutchman’s Bay site at 0630. The air temperature was 50º and the water temperature was 61.7º. There was a wind out of the South at 5mph with a little chop on the water. If the wind had been any stronger I probably wouldn’t have gone. That little boat can be a challenge in anything more than a glass like surface.

   The boat’s one of those composit material, vacuum formed, and it has no keel to speak of. I was running against the wind taking it on the starboard quarter and the entire boat flexed. It’s a little un-nerving to have a boat do things that it ain’t supposed to do, but I got used to it.

   Someone South of the launch site has a problem with fox, living under their cabin. I don’t know if they know it, but I hope they don’t bring any pets with them. As I trolled by, I saw a ma and two kits rolling around on this guys porch, and when they saw me watching, they bolted into a nearby hole.

   I didn’t have any hits using a crawler harness and switched over to using a Rapala, and caught 2 bass. Tomorrow morning I’m going out again, and this time, to the promised land.

   Doug and I went out looking for Smallmouth’s the morning, and we found ‘em. About the best way to describe where we found them is: The sunny wet spot. We were on the water at 6:15 and at our start point about 15 minutes later. Doug had his first bass in the boat 5 minutes after that. The water temperature was 59.9º with a light breeze out of the East. We’d figured we’d freeze our ars’s off so we both suited up, but once on the water, most of it was taken back off, it was 50º.

   The first dozen or so that he caught were 11 to 13 1/2″, but as we moved North along the shore, they got larger. I can’t divulge what Doug was using, I forgot to ask him if it was ok, but I used and white jig head with a grub. I caught (lost) one using it. Doug was starting to do pretty well, and my arm gave out, so I changed lures and put on a Rapala. I let the line pay out until it was maybe 50 yards back and started dragging it. Every once in a while I’d give it a twitch without much results. Later, I started jerking the living shit out of it and got one. Unfortunatly, I was using my spin casting rod and it doesn’t have much back bone to it. When it got within 50′, I got to watch a huge smallmout’s head break the surface and throw my lure. Hellava sight. As soon as I saw my method was going to work, I hooked up my trolling rod with it, and tried that. The rod’s a lot stiffer and using that spider wire gave the lure a lot of action, and when it got hit, it stayed hit. It took forever to finally get it to the boat, but when it went in the live well, it filled our limit. It was 8:20.

   Sunrise found me and my trusty rod, Dick, standing
upon the embankment that looks over the Lampry cables.
My first cast was to the opposite side, to the north
corner of the weir. The crawler, impailed upon a #7
Mustad hook landed just upstream of the sweeping shrub
that protrudes into the river. A little slack was let
and the bait bounced along the bottom. A 10″ brown was
caught.
   My second cast was a little crooked, as my Dick
sometimes gets, and the bait sailed across the twig
growing from a shrub flourshing on my side of the
river. None-the-less the worm fell in the drink and a
little slack was given. Taps were followed by thumps
and a 8″ rainbow was hooked. At first I was tempted to
flip it up but then thought about a fish hanging from
a branch over a river. I let him back down and gave it
more thought. Fuck ‘em, I’ll give ‘er a try. Up the
trout came like a missile from a sub and sailed over
the limb like Flipper himself. The fish was brought in
and released.
   The third cast was like the first but was emmersed
down stream from the bush. I could feel the size 8
split shot bounce along the bottom and through the hole.
It just came to rest on the sand bar closer in, and
was inhaled into the maw of a brookie. She put up a
fight but as always is, my trusty Dick came thru. The
brookie was small, and her colors were bright and a
free girl she’ll be tonight.
   Cast number four was for naught.
   Number five was like the second, only this time the
shrub won.
   Six was an underhanded flip, and yep, my Dick loved
it. Line was paid out into the current and the worm
swrilled with the flow. No taps were followed by a
wham and the line headed down stream. Another brown
was landed after some energetic to and fro of it and
I. Another 10″ brown was released into the flow of
life.
   The seventh cast was guided to the left of that
shrub and landed just where I wanted it. The current
took it down and around and back and forth, why my
Dick almost went stiff. Another ‘bow took this one but
he was another eightincher.
   Eight was great, it landed farther down-stream than
ever before. It swept to the left and then to the
right, and down behind a log. A brown was there just
waiting for me and my worm. I used my Dick and shook
it about , and I coaxed the little bitch in. She kept
trying to suck it in and I kept pulling away. After
some time she’d had enough and jumped like a five
dollar whore. The fight was strong and swift and my
rod held stiff and another notch on my grip. A 12″
brown bitch hit the river, as I headed my way back
home.
   And thats the report from me and my Dick.
  

   I went out fishing with Doug and Don this morning for some walleye, and although we had some luck, it wasn’t enough. The lake was 56.4º at 5:30 when we pulled away from the dock. It was 48º, broken sky and an 8mph wind out of the Southwest. Although we all used crawler-harness’s, they were all different colors. Doug’s and mine were various greens, Don’s was orange. He’d heard that they were using them near Medusa and having some luck.

   Other than saying we launched at Dutchman’s Bay, there will be no other directions on how to get there, or know when you are. We trolled both close to the drop off and a ways out from it and all that was caught there was one bullhead by me. On the other side of the lake, Don found out why everyone at Medusa was using orange. They musta been sucker fisherman and serious about it. When I figure out how to put photo’s in here, there will be a picture added for posterity.

   One other thing; this was the first time I’d been fishing with Doug and he was skunked in over 5 years. Not even a bass in the boat. We gave it up as a lost cause and were home by 10:30.