BECALMED

When the waves are running 2 to 4 feet and we have to troll into them or worse, we have to head 16 miles back to the marina and can only manage 12 or 13 miles per hour without slamming the boat down into the wave troughs, I wish we were becalmed. It’s a nautical term invented by sailors on their tall ships. No wind meant no progress and apparently on the ocean, at times, they’d become becalmed and the condition would last for days.

Expect to wear a jacket and experience
some chop on summer morning trips. 

In the summer on Lake Michigan, it happens to us almost every day. Or at least on many days.

Pick a day when the temperature starts out predawn in the low 70s but the afternoon highs are scheduled at 90 degrees or more. Common enough in June, July and August. Such conditions are usually accompanied by winds with a southerly component - winds that blow from the land out over the lake.

Such has been the case for the past week and I’ve been experiencing it each day with my busy fishing schedule. Each day we’ve been becalmed and it’s great.

In the morning the low temperatures on land pretty well match up with the temperatures on the lake and the lake’s surface water temperature. So when the wind blows, it just blows right out across the water. In fact, devoid of trees, hills, buildings and such, it blows very steady and in short order, and as one continues from the nearshore area to the offshore haunts of the salmon, the waves build from a few inches tall to crests measuring several feet.

Some mornings there’s a steady chop, others are quite rough. I deal with whatever comes, knowing the “lake effect” weather will soon ease the conditions.

Cumulus clouds forming over the Gary, IN
lakeshore. 

On land the rising sun begins to heat the air and the land. Another hot summer day. On the lake, we may still be wearing a light jacket. Hot air rises, cool air sinks. Us fishermen have the cool air and often, on the shore and inland, they have the hot air. Often, towards the distant shore we see cumulus clouds start to blossom - a sure sign of becoming becalmed.

As the wind blows, the hot air rises and simply floats aloft over the cooler air on the lake. We notice the wind and waves subsiding and in a relatively short time, the conditions go from choppy to slick calm.  If we were in a sailboat, we’d be becalmed.

The last fish of many trips comes when we are
BECALMED

I smile. It may still be a long boat ride (distance wise) back to the harbor but the Bro will easily cruise at 30 mph on a calm lake and by now, the wind stream we feel from the speeding boat feels great.

A WELL-STORIED FISH

I’m trying not to start off on a morbid note, but one of the realities of life is that everything is destined to die. Humans spend millions to fight off death. Animals instinctively know how to avoid being killed. Even plants have defense mechanisms that kick into gear under adverse growing conditions. But in the end, it’s the end.

Every fish caught comes with a story. 

Some things die hard. Ever had a weed in your garden that just kept resprouting? Some things seem to tempt their fate daily. Human daredevils can get rich or famous (or dead) from their exploits.

Some things just seem bent on destruction.

I encountered a steelhead yesterday that filled that bill to a T and gave a couple of fishermen some thrills along the way. One could argue it was the fish’s fate. Others might call it destiny.
After all, the reason one of Indiana’s fish hatcheries made the effort to capture it’s parents, care for them until the eggs were ripe and fertile, then nurtured the hatchling from fry to fingerling to big enough to stock in Lake Michigan was with the hope some fisherman would eventually hook up with it.

The last fish my group of anglers hooked Saturday morning came with a surprise. I extended the net and scooped the struggling fish out of the lake, ending the tussle. As I lifted the fish into the boat, I noticed a strand of monofilament line in the net along with the fish.

“Odd,” thinks me. I try to keep stray strands of mono picked up, and hoped one of my lures wasn’t attached to (or detached from) the extra fishing line.  As I removed the lure that had caught the steelhead from the fish, some of the wayward line was tangled in the treble at the end of the spoon.

“Doubly odd,” thinks me. I noticed the line wasn’t my line at all. Too thin. Probably 4 or 6 pound test. My first postulation was that the hook had snagged onto a length of discarded line, however, I’d think more than a few inches of it would have disturbed the action of the lure pulling through the water and the fish wouldn’t have bitten it.

Then it dawned on me to look again inside the mouth of the fish. Sure enough! Embedded inside was a bright red perch-sized hook.

The perch hook in this steelhead's mouth is a
clue that it's a part of some other fish story. 

Some perch fishermen in the recent past went home with a “fish story” that went something like, “I felt a tap and set the hook and instantly knew it wasn’t a perch.”  Or perhaps, “The rod pulled down like I’d hooked a nuclear submarine....” The end of what ever story he told had the same end. “The line broke.”


So this steelhead, destined from birth to die and nurtured from it’s conception to be caught by a happy angler, became a “well-storied” fish.  When it bit the perch fisherman’s minnow, it gave him or her a story to tell and a lasting memory. When it bit the spoon trolling behind my boat it gave a tale to the angler who fought and won the battle. In addition, it gave me a story to tell to you, as well. All fish should meet such a well-storied end.

TRAILER REHAB DAY

Boat trailers are designed to be “rode hard and put up wet.” They better be - at least mine better be since I put several hundred miles on my trailer weekly and may dunk it into the lake twice daily, day after day after day.

But things that get used and abused wear out and the wooden, carpet covered bunks that support my boat were well worn. In fact, many of the supports under the bunk-boards were rusty and weak.

So a repair day was scheduled at Dick McNeely’s workshop near Attica. Not only does Mack have all the tools needed and welding equipment, I was able to recruit another mutual friend, Jim Eason, to pitch in on the work.

There was one downside to the location: no nearby lake to offload the Brother Nature so we could get at the trailer.  Our first chore was to jack up the boat high enough that it was suspended above the trailer. Some begged and borrowed jack-stands helped, a bit of blocking and crawling around under the rig and inch by inch, the Bro ascended and the trailer pulled free.

The old boards were removed and the metal work started, first removing the old board supports with torch and grinders, then welding new ones in place. A spritz of Rust-Oleum and they were good as new. Using Mack’s utility tractor, we tilted the trailer to make it easier to fasten the new bunks securely.




Repositioning the trailer under the boat went very smoothly and soon the rig was again road-ready!  A few Heinekens to reward ourselves for a job well done finished the job in style.

HAT TRICK

There was an amazing incident on the boat yesterday that I decided would make a great blog posting. However, as those of you who have ever heard me tell a story can attest, sometimes my tales become a bit lengthy.   

By the time I was done, the story was long enough to be a full column for my regular slot in Michigan Outdoor News called “Great Lakes Logbook.”  So here’s the downsized version of the event.                                                  

While in the middle of a Great Lakes Fire Drill (the confusion that occurs when 2 or more salmon are hooked at the same time) and in 3 foot waves, my hat dislodged and fell into the lake. We couldn’t stop or turn around and by the time the fish were boated, the lines redeployed and the fire drill over, we’d trolled a half mile or so from the location. 

No, I didn’t mark the spot on my GPS and even if I’d done that, the hat would have floated off in the waves from any waypoint I’d created. Still, we had to fish somewhere and I knew there were active fish back where my hat was floating; so I made mental calculations of what heading would put the boat on course and steered a gradual turn. 

As we approached ever nearer to “ground-zero” a salmon bit on a long line trailing over 100 yards behind the boat. Those take a while to reel in, but the angler handled the chore admirably. Just as I scooped the fish into the net, one of the other passengers said, “There’s the hat!”  

Yes indeed! About 10 yards off the starboard bow, the bright yellow hat floated soggily awaiting rescue. The fish was in the boat, my white forehead saved from the sun and my lucky hat was saved.    

STEELHEAD SLAM

Perry Pendell, from Chestertown, NY, completed the BN
Grand Slam for 2012

 The Salmon Unlimited club used to give an award to any member who caught a coho, chinook, brown trout, lake trout and steelhead all in one year. Those are the 5 major species of trout and salmon in Lake Michigan. There are a smattering of pink salmon and Atlantic Salmon that stray into the northern part of the lake from Lake Huron, but not many. The award was called the Big Five. Others called it the Grand Slam.


Nowadays, getting the Grand Slam for the season is not as big a deal. Some people manage it in a single day. The Brother Nature normally has fresh DNA from the big five species on the boat by mid-April and if there’s a missing specimen, it’s usually lake trout since I stick close to shore as long as possible in the spring, before heading “out for trout” when the nearshore action wanes.

This year, the Brother Nature anglers had caught lake trout by early April and there were plenty of kings, cohos and browns in the mix starting in March. It wasn’t until I mailed in my catch report for April I noticed there hadn’t yet been a steelhead on board for 2012.

Steelhead should be increasingly important the
rest of this summer. 

Normally, in the nearshore early season fishery, one steelhead bites for about every dozen cohos. And since catching dozens and dozens of cohos is normal, the first steelhead isn’t long in coming.

Yesterday, May 27, was the first day we dripped a bit of steely-juice on the floor. I don’t think it’s a reflection of fewer steelhead available, rather just poor concentrations of ‘heads in the area I’ve fished and luck of the draw. The Indiana DNR stocks more steelhead than any other species.

As we get into the summer season, I expect to see these hard-fighting, high jumping beauties on the ends of the line on an increasing basis. I suspect in a week or two or three, the summer run Skamania strain will start crowding the shorelines and steelhead will become the feature attraction.

‘Til then, it’s good to have broken the ice and completed the Brother Nature’s annual Grand Slam.  

IN THE CAN

Pick your favorite flavor!

It’s partly because I’m cheap and partly because I enjoy making and using handmade items. In this case, it’s both. A 10-pound downrigger weight from Cabelas costs 40 bucks. I can make one for 25 cents worth of propane, scavenged lead, a discarded beer can and a piece of wire coat hanger.

But does it work as well as an “engineered” store-bought weight?

I’m a professional skipper. I use what works and what works well, not just something that works “well enough.” We aren’t talking rocket science here - it’s a 10-pound weight!

If you don’t mind what the can looks like, the chore is very simple. Melt lead, pour it into an empty can, hold the wire attachment loop and release loop in place and fill the lead to the rim. The paint will burn off the can, but won’t melt the aluminum. Done.

To keep the paint from burning off takes a bit more effort. You will need a 1-foot square piece of half-inch or thicker plywood. Measure the diameter of the rim of your can. Measure the diameter of the barrel of the can. Cut a round hole in the plywood midway between these measurements so the plywood will sit on the can, but not slide over it.

I use rubber band releases but any kind will work

Find or make a container slightly shorter than a can. (It can be plastic.) Fill it with water. Put the plywood on the can and the can into the container of water. Now, the paint won’t burn off when the molten lead goes into the can.

I use a propane fish cooker for heat and melt the lead in a small cast-iron skillet. Any ol’ skillet will do, or any old pot. It’s not rocket science, it’s just melting lead.

Once the can is about 3/4-inch from being full, stick the wire loops in and let the lead cool until it’s hard and supporting the wires. Now add enough more molten lead to top off the can.

Disclaimers:
This is dangerous and you can be burned.
Do the project outdoors for fumes and to keep from burning your house down.
Molten lead and water don’t mix. Use the plywood, make sure the can is empty. Do the words “steam explosion” mean anything to you?
Use personal protective equipment - safety glasses, gloves, leather boots, etc. I don’t, but you should.

Depending on the exact alloy (wheel weights are different than pure lead which is different from bullet lead, etc.), a 12-ounce can will weigh within an ounce or so of 10 pounds.

FISHER - KIDS

Nephew Sam from my Webpage

I’m often questioned about bringing young kids along on Lake Michigan fishing trips. Do I have any policies regarding kids? Is there a minimum age? The answer is no.

One of the reasons I show my nephew, Sam on the front page of my website is to show that youngsters are welcome. Sam was only 6 or 7 when he caught the pictured salmon. My own son, Wade, started tagging along on Lake Michigan outings when he was five. Both of these youngsters, however, had been handling rods and reels almost since they could walk - maybe not for king salmon, but the motor skills needed to hold rods and crank reels are the same whether the fish on the end of the line is a 7-inch sunfish or a 17-pound salmon.

Family Outings can include Mom

I was reminded of this last weekend when both days featured a pair of young boys in the quartet of fishermen on board the Brother Nature. Each duo was similar in age, but not in fishing skills.

On Saturday, each salmon boated turned into something of a torture-test, requiring both youngster trying to hold the rod and crank the reel and the oldster also holding the rod and even assisting with winding in the fish. We boated most of the fish that bit, but few of the catches were stylishly simple.

Abby shows off youthful fishing skills. 

On Sunday, we actually lost more of our hook-ups, but that’s more a tribute to “fishing luck” than lack of skills. Each boy wielded the rods and cranked the reels like seasoned pros. Because they were experienced from early life like Sam and Wade.

My point in this essay is to encourage parents to get “toy” fishing gear for their kids. Even if it’s a cheap Snoopy pole or comes in bright pink for a daughter. That early familiarity could engender a life-long passion for fishing in particular and the outdoors in general.

If you are reading this and wondering about bringing your own youngster, don’t hesitate. We will make it work, regardless of experience. There’s no gain in leaving them home.