Fish Tales

Gord and I go Fishing        By Arne Pedersen

The next morning I arrive at the designated meeting area. Fortunately, Gord remembered to bring along my trolling motor battery, which I was so kind as to previously loan him. Of course the next step is to hook the battery up and do a power check. It is immediately discovered that the trolling motor is not working. Of course, this is not a good thing so further disconnecting and re-connecting commences. There comes a time when you decide the trolling motor isn’t going to cause delay any further, so the hour and half drive begins.

A very short time after we leave, I noticed something eye-catchingly strange in the rear view mirror. It seems as though the trolling motor had finally decided to cooperate, as a spinning propeller is eminent. I quickly pull my truck over and proceed to switch the control pedal to the off position. As our laughter slowly settles, we grow into a deep discussion requiring the usage of technical fishing terms and phrases. I have to explain about Gord once again, in the sense that he dislikes fishing discussions unless fancy angling terminology is used. What I am trying to say is, if you cannot use technical fishing terms then Gord may never talk to you ( in fact, some people who have met Gord do not have a problem with this). If any of you readers ever get the chance to talk to Gord you had better listen, as he fishes over 100 days a year for many species and has caught and released more 5-pound plus smallmouths than you could imagine.

As we reach the waters edge, we are happy to see that the wind may cooperate for us today. We proceed with the necessary launching procedures, climb into the boat and I start up the motor. We, of course, have carefully discussed where our greatest chances of success will occur. I then put on my Gore-Tex thermal insulated coveralls and wasting no further time, off in the appropriate direction we go.
As I started motoring toward the channel Gord decides he is now getting cold and it’s time to put on his liner and coat. Normally this would be a pretty basic task, except a problem has occurred with his zipper. I have noticed that Gord is starting to look a little concerned (not to mention cold, too). It is finally determined that the base of his zipper is squished (Gord later informed me it broke while closing the storage lid on it this morning). I was taking delight in observing him attempt to fix it with the knife attachment on my clippers. Now if you would imagine five minutes passing, a wind chill of probably much colder than Gord’s face wishes to be, then I ask if he is ready for me to crank open the throttle yet. He had a look of deep-seated unfriendliness upon his face which led me to believe that going faster was definitely not a good idea. I did however want to go fishing sometime today, so I suggested that I give it a go. The defective garment was instantly passed over and I proceeded to pry the zipper with the utmost of concentration. Eventually, after involving one line clipper tool and two pair of pliers in the procedure) the zipper was successfully repaired. Gord is grateful.

I ease back on the throttle as we near the decided upon area. I turn on the depth finder and reach for a couple of marker buoys. As I glance toward the screen I notice something I did not expect. The water temperature was 39.5 degrees F., which was about 3 degrees colder than expected. Now 3 degrees doesn’t sound like much but it could mean the difference between 5 fish and the big fat zero. Fortunately we are already familiar with this lakes deeper water structure. We know some areas where smallmouth concentrate at the 42-45 degree F. mark but it is 39.5 degrees. They should be very close to these same areas, maybe a bit deeper and possibly a bit further from shore on the same piece of structure.

The first area we fish consists of an underwater rock and gravel point bottoming out at 24 ft. (which means – hits the soft bottom basin). This lake has very dark water with 26-27 ft. being the maximum depth, so in this lake 24 ft. is very deep. After placing 2 strategically located marker buoys, I situate the boat approximately 10 ft. outside the basin transition, off the very end tip of the point. I double anchor my boat parallel to the structure, offering equal casting opportunity for the both of us (well actually I anchored so Gord has good casting opportunity in the worst possible direction only, as I enjoy the funny look on his face which this produces). The casting begins.

I have a 3/8 oz. Blade bait on braided line which I cast up along the left side of the structure. My line goes slack as the lure hits the bottom, my retrieve begins. I am doing a lift and drop retrieve while maintaining bottom contact. As I look over to Gord I notice he is still doing something to his rig. I cast out again, a bit over from the first cast and retrieve in the same deliberate manner. After only a few turns of the reel handle I feel a sharp tick. I wrench back on the rod feeling a heavy pumping sensation. A fish is on. Of course, the next thing I do is look to see if Gord has noticed.

I believe his exact words we “OH NO – OH NO”.

Of course, I am not any different than other fisherman in the sense that I enjoy “out doing” my fishing partner. I then stated to Gord “I have a fish – why haven’t you got one yet?”

Within a half a second of lightning fast speed and a look of determination never seen before, Gord is now about to cast. You have to actually see this astounding movement of body language to believe it. I notice my line has suddenly taken a turn for the anchor rope. With my fish now at risk there’s no time for etiquette. I practically run Gord over like a Sherman tank as the words “look out” eventually catch up with my body. Fortunately I save the bass from the dreadful “anchor rope fate”. I lip the 17 incher and proceed onto the rub the “first fish of the day” in Gord’s face ritual. After Gord’s next statement I begin to realize that I may be doomed.

“You’re in trouble now!”

Generally speaking, when you try and compete against someone using live night crawlers with artificial lures in winter, you lose. Today was no exception, as the words “Ha Ha, I got one!”, soon appear out of the cold thin air. It wasn’t until Gord had landed his third bass that I started to show desperation. I practically dove for the night crawlers, which were on the floor in a container beside Gord’s feet. It wasn’t much longer before I glanced over to see another fish being played and heard the “Ha HA” words repeated once again.

Finally I got my hook into bass lips, only to hear the words “11 inch bass don’t count.”

I felt better after I had caught my third bass, a respectable 16 incher. It was probably 30 minutes later when I decided we have another area to check out. Gord ignores me and another 5 – 6 casts flail out. I had to listen to the “HA HA” words once again, for the fifth time as he sets the hook on another fish. I then decide to quickly pull up the anchors and move location. By the time I had the motor running Gord had released the bass, re-rigged and was quickly attempting to make another cast. It seemed he was going to let nothing stand in the way of his final cast. I figured fishing from a moving boat would quickly diminish Gord’s casting ability. As I opened up the throttle I glanced over just in time, expecting to see Gord’s fishing reel smoke in the attempt to save the rest of his line from being a permanent part of the lakes bottom.

We had now arrived at the new spot. After careful consideration, attention to my depth finder and driving the boat backwards and forward repeatedly (in a somewhat carried away sort of behaviour), I finally decided to throw out some marker buoys. Gord decided to patiently wait until I was not only fully anchored, but stated it was safe to fish now ( apparently he didn’t like my terrorist approach I used at the last spot to convince him it was time to reel in).

It seemed as though the tables had turned as a fish hit on my second cast. It got off. In less than 10 minutes I had another bite, which turned into a nice 16 ½ incher. Shortly I had another one on, I gave Gord back the “HA HA” words he had so generously given me earlier. As the day went on, we noticed the sky becoming darker and darker. Since we both were in agreement of a 5 fish – tie, we decided to beat the rain. We head off back home with the good feeling of showing each other up, seemingly having no losers, ending another memorable days fishing.

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