BULL AND CRAWS

Crayfish are a staple in Louisiana

    I’d like to think I can remember every fishing trip I take on the Brother Nature. I do remember some of them, pieces of most of them and probably not a whit of others of them. I’ve been fishing Lake Michigan since the 70s, started Brother Nature Fishing Adventures in ‘98 and every year the number of fishing trips I host has grown. Forgive me if I can’t remember the details of each and every one.
 
     One of the most memorable trips, however, started with a call I got one evening asking: #1 “how the fishing was” and #2 “if I could go the next day?” The answers were good and yes, so the arrangements were made.

     That’s not all that unusual. What was unusual is the person making the call was called “Bull” and he was calling from Slidell, Louisiana. It’s a 14-hour drive from Slidell to Lake Michigan and in not much more time than that, we met at the docks to go fishing.

    It’s not that unusual for people to bring a cooler or two along on the boat. Why not? I furnish everything needed for fishing. All people need to bring is enough clothes to be comfy and any drinks or snacks they might want while on the lake. Some people bring nothing, others load on enough gear to last a week.

    Shortly after getting all the lines set and the first few fish caught, Bull opened one of the coolers. A fairly big cooler it was. Large enough to hold 50 pounds of cooked crayfish! I use that measurement because inside the cooler was 50 pounds of cooked crayfish!

    If that sounds like a lot, it is! Granted, by the time you pinch off the heads and front pinchers, peel off the shell and pop whatever is left into your mouth you don’t get a full measure into your belly, but realistically, 50 pounds of crayfish is hundreds and hundreds of the little mud-bugs.

    And lemme-tell-ya, they were still warm and scrumptious.

    I’ve had people come with home-baked cookies, moose jerky, and most any other snack you can imagine, from oysters to ostrich. Nothing I’ve ever eaten on my boat was as good as those Cajun crawdads.

   The fishing was extra good that day. We caught an easy limit of salmon. I don’t know if it was because I was really dialed in, or perhaps it was the crayfish tails, heads and claws we tossed overboard leaving a trail of chum for the fish to follow to our lures.

SLIPPIN’ AND DIPPIN’

   The first fishing trip of the season is always worrisome. Have I forgotten anything? Will everything that worked perfectly when the boat was stored for the winter still work after months of sitting in the cold? Is the plug in the boat? Will the motor start? Friday, March 15, I learned the answers to these and other important questions such as, are the fish biting?
 
   Yes! The fish were biting. We’ll get to that part in a minute. First, let’s concentrate on the “slippin’” part of this blog’s title.

   I knew it was cold from the ice and frost on my windshield when I hopped in the Suburban in the pre-dawn darkness. By the time I got to the marina, my heater had everything toasty inside, ice and frost all melted away from the window glass and the sun was showing in the east. In a few minutes the tiedowns were loose, bits of gear loaded and I was on the way to the ramp.

   Point number one, I was far from first in line that morning. Several other boats had launched ahead of me. Point number two, it was still below freezing. Point number three, what looked to be wet concrete on the boat ramp was actually frozen glare ice. Point number four, gravity wins almost every time.

   Whoa-daddy! Actually, no whoa was involved. Once all the wheels (both trailer and truck) were on the slope, there was no stopping until the rear wheels of the truck hit the unfrozen concrete under the water.

   The steel factories that line the shore of the Indiana Harbor pump warm water into the basin to prolong their shipping season. The water in the open lake showed 34.5 degrees where I stopped to set up our troll. Inside the harbor the water temp was perfect for cohos and brown trout, in the upper 40s. And that’s where the fish were found. Two cohos and a brown trout came to net - this is the “dippin’” part of the story - on our first pass along the lighthouse wall. It was a start to a magical opening day, when all the gear on the boat worked, I didn’t forget anything and we had a great time “dipping” the landing net on a regular schedule throughout the morning.