May 27 to June 1. 2017 – Wind and Rain are Four-Letter Words, but fortunately so are Bass and Pike

Rainy and windy days made for pretty sunsets, at least.




















The five days that my dad and I spent in Ontario this week were a bit unsettled weather-wise, as I hope my photos show, but we had some good days and good times while dodging storms and other setbacks.  The cottage he arranged was fancy, sitting atop a high bluff with new dockage (without electricity to recharge batteries, which is just poor planning on our landlord’s part) and many finely designed appointments, not bad for 100 bucks US a day.  We only spent about one third of any given day in the place, most of it eating or sleeping, so that really didn’t matter.  I must say, the ability to do laundry after a rainy morning on the water was quite nice, and the view out my bedroom window was worthy of a real estate posting or vacation magazine.  We saw plenty of wild life, as well: loons, mink, beaver, deer, fox, groundhogs, hummingbirds, osprey, bald eagles, vultures, heron, even a whippoorwill who liked to wake me about 1 AM to remind me to get up and relieve my bladder.  A certain murder of crows that nests on the same isolated bank every year are also a treat, sounding like anything but birds as they communicate with each other non-stop, probably about Joe’s hot blue rain jacket.


My old Canucky home for 5 days = tres posh
We trailered Joe’s bass boat as usual, so we were able to fish 2.5 different lakes, venturing into the channel that joined Dog and Cranberry Lakes, while spending two days on Dog and three on our old favorite, Loughborough.  The first two days on Dog were interesting to say the least.  We launched from a public ramp in a back bay, and when it came time to leave, we could not find the way back.  These lakes are byzantine with channels and islands and false bays and false landmarks.  When you have taken an 8 hour car ride that started at 3 AM, unloaded at the cottage, launched the boat, and fished just because you needed to wet a line on day one, regardless of the other factors, things happen.  Besides getting turned around, we ran aground and were pulled off an unmarked shoal by a Jersey boy on a jet ski (such a kind and helpful cliché!), Thankfully, there was no damage to the boat or the motor, as we were on a slow idle looking for landmarks in all the wrong places.  People on the water were very helpful, or tried to be, as a few were from the Commonwealth like us and had no clue, but it took a while to get our bearings, literally.  

Cats can swim.  Finally, a landmark we knew after wandering for a bit.




















At one point, we followed a few young bulls in a pontoon boat who offered to show us the way to the ramp, the wrong ramp, before a nice young couple in a canoe who had a Canadian-enabled set of Google maps, set a waypoint for me on my phone.  We slept well that night, and vowed to not go back to Dog the next day, as the fishing was not great in the heat, high water, and churned up conditions.  It was hot and windless too, not a great combination to induce bass to bite in shallow waters.  Apparently, the region had record rain totals this spring, but I didn’t need to see the stats to confirm that fact.  Pieces of unmoored docks still littered the shore, and many once exposed hazards and landmarks were submerged or looking quite different from previous trips.  After the first painful afternoon, the plan the next morning to avoid the drama of Dog all changed when we saw a bass tournament forming at the boat ramp for Loughborough. 

Hmm, should have taken the pic BEFORE leaving the dock....
Loughborough is a lake we have fished for 30+ years, and it has changed over that time.  The biggest change is the development in the area, mainly from Kingston, ON, which was once a college and military town, but now is just a small city on Lake Ontario.  Though we arrive before the summer season, and folks don’t celebrate our Memorial Day up here, I picture Wallenpaupack-size crowds come July these days.  

Doubles aplenty (mine's bigger)
That said, we still catch some pigs, at least a couple 4 or 5 pounders each day on a good day, and always at least one day of 100+ smallmouth in the main basin, provided the fish are not post-spawn.  They were actually pre-spawn this year, thankfully, which has been a rare occurrence in recent years.  You can see how fat the females are, and the males (most, if not all, of the smallmouth) were green and feisty and competitive, often 2 and 3 chasing a squarebill crank back to the boat.  We had a few doubles, and when I was running the boat, I got into the habit of swinging back around and re-fishing a productive piece of structure.  This most often resulted in one or both of us landing another fish or two from the same area.  All bank was not created equal, as we sometimes find at the height of the spawn and pre-spawn nest building (real estate is limited in a lake that quickly drops from 5 feet on the bank to 30 or 60 within casting range of the shore).  By the end of one day, I could predict when we would catch a bunch of fish; a pattern slowly emerged and saved us time and arm strength for only the most productive water.  The howling wind helped move us along whether we wanted to or not.  Thank god the fish liked the shallow crankbaits and spinnerbaits in the wind-stirred water on our most productive days.  At times, a drop shot or a 1/4 ounce tube or wacky jighead-rigged Senko worked too, but fishing the bow in the line was a challenge.  Joe actually started using a reel with fluorescent yellow Stren, and I was impressed with how well it improved his game in the wind.

Okay, his was bigger this time.




















Some slabs to be had.
To generalize, the days on Dog were hot and sunny, but the small numbers of fish we caught were bigger on average, and this has been the case over the last 4 years.  The days on Loughborough were more productive in the numbers area, but we also landed a couple 4 lb largemouth and a bunch of male smallies over 3 lbs.  Give me a 3 lb smallie all day, any day, and I would be happy all the days of my life.  I actually take the long trek with my dad every year because of my memories of the smallie days on the big water.  This year did not disappoint either. We also had a morning of 100 largemouth on Senkos and drop shot in the shallower foot of the lake, and unlike past years, the average fish was larger and feistier before the spawn, not tired and hooked 20 times like post-spawn.  One afternoon, my dad tangled with a handful of decent pike too.  Neither lake is known for large pike, though the numbers are good, but all 5 or 6 we caught that afternoon were solid fish.  A pike hit is great regardless of the size, but it is good to have one fight hard after the first lunge too.  We checked that box this year too.  We try not to handle too many of the slimy, smelly, toothy things, however, so no grip and grin shots of pike.

Some frying pan size sunfish and decent crappie too.


Selfish before Joe figured out my phone.


















I brought the fly rod, so I did catch a few crappie and other panfish, even a hammer-handle pike, from the dock, but most nights it was just too windy or rainy after dinner.  The owner of the cottage left a 10-foot recreation kayak and paddle on the dock, and I was hoping to get out at least one night with the long rod, but the only kayaking I did was of a different nature.  One especially stormy and windy afternoon, while my dad took a well-deserved nap after batting 20 knot winds with the trolling motor all morning, I took a walk down to the dock where we had hastily tied the boat before lunch.  Well, you know where this is going, yeah?  As I came to the last landing of the long set of cliff-descending stairs, I did not see a bass boat on the dock.  The wind was honking out of the SSW, so I looked left from the north shore, and sure enough it was bobbing down the lake about 50 yards away and, thankfully, close to the bank and headed for a grassy bay (not a bad worst case scenario).  My dad may have had (another) heart attack, so I was glad he slept through it.  I worked up a sweat, but I stayed surprisingly calm despite the weather conditions.  The little yak was surely close to taking on water over the bow a couple times, but I was too busy praying the secondary stability I have read so little about was not a myth promoted by the purveyors of a shrinking market for sit-inside kayaks.

A pike close (enough) up....
A man of action this day, at least, I jumped in the kayak, whose 10 foot length and light weight did not provide me with the initial stability I have experienced on sit-on-top kayaks.  Truth be told, until this moment, I have never paddled a sit-in recreation kayak, but with heroic music humming in my head (see Swiss Army Man), I launched, paddled and rescued the boat in pretty quick fashion.. The hardest and yet most mundane part, honestly, was walking down the steeply inclined and loosely bouldered bank to retrieve the beached and tied-off kayak, which in retrospect I should have thrown on the front deck of the bass boat.  Next time, I will know?  Next time? Moral of the story, don’t trust the pre-fused or -joined loops on low-end dock ropes, which the post-rescue diagnosis revealed as the weak link in the otherwise secure docking procedure by two seasoned, albeit wind-battered and tired, sailors.  It made for a good story over dinner and likely will for years to come. Joe is lucky I didn't have my phone to document the action in photos.  I considered a re-shoot or reenactment, but the actors were being difficult.

Hiding in a boat house while it poured (again).




















The fish didn't mind, however.







































So to review, the low lights included running into a shoal, getting lost, getting rained on several times (to the point where we hid in absent island vacationers’ boat houses on a couple occasions—thanks, folks!), being wind battered, sunburned on a couple ungodly hot and windless afternoons, no dockside battery plug-ins, dodging a bass tournament in what used to be a lightly fished region of lakes, and almost losing a boat.  

A good 4+ on the digital scale!
The highlights were many, however:  No father/son spats, good food, a few big bass, at least two days where we caught 100+ bass over 2 pounds on average, strong enough data to allow my phone to serve as a mobile hot spot (so I didn’t need to take off work, dig?), great amenities, wildlife, good Samaritans (Canadians, and Americans), impromptu self-taught kayaking lessons, even some of the largest, pre-spawn pumpkinseeds and blue gills I have ever seen inhale a drop shot rig intruding on their nests.  We ended with a second day of 100+ good fish, this time all smallmouth besides one big female largemouth, and that is probably all we will both remember when it comes time to decide on whether to return to the same lakes next year. Funny how that works isn't it?

We arrived home around dinner time after an uneventful drive home, which was nice.  I even took a few work-related phone calls once we got into New York again. Even the cat was happy to see me when I got home, so the time away was good.  I got the boy his first sling shot at the duty free and helped Dan Akcroyd's retirement years by buying one of his screw-cap Merlots.  I am sure it's breathtaking.  Perhaps I will drink it with my wife and retell the story of my daring kayak rescue on the stormy northern lake or write a "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" homage to mark the day.

Until next year.























Random shots from a 100+ smallie day!

And the only largemouth of the entire smallmouth-dominated day.

























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