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Conference wahoo::fishing

Title:Fishing Notes- Archived
Notice:See note 555.1 for a keyword directory of this conference
Moderator:DONMAC::MACINTYRE
Created:Fri Feb 14 1986
Last Modified:Fri Sep 20 1991
Last Successful Update:Fri Jun 06 1997
Number of topics:1660
Total number of notes:20970

1279.0. "How to pass the winter months away" by CPDW::OTA () Mon Nov 27 1989 17:25

    Hi there all you fishing buffs
    
    I,m a bass fisherman and I am sitting here just besides myself waiting
    for spring to start.  I know for Christmas I am getting a Shimano Super
    Speedmaster GTX Reel and its matching 6'6" rod.  When I get these
    little goodies it will make the wait for spring even worse.  So, I
    thought that a swap of favorite fish tales might be in order to wait
    out those long winter months.
    
    Mine takes place last summer on the Belgarde Lakes in Maine.  My
    brothers and I stay at a great fishing camp and hold our own anual bass 
    fishing tournament.
    
    We started as usual at 5:15 AM.  That far up north there are no car
    sounds in fact there are no artificial noises except an occasional
    fisherman starting out on the long days fishing excursion.  We quietly
    walked to the boats with sleep still swollen in our eyes, stumbling
    over tree roots and rocks that filled the path.  We got to the lakes
    edge and stopped in awe.  The sun was just peeking pink on the edges of
    the trees but on the water a tremendous white curtain of fog was
    rolling in.  We jumped into our boats and started the engines backing
    out and heading off to that sweet spot we found the previous day.  The
    water was as smooth as a sheet of glass for there was no wind to dimple
    its surface.  The boats cut rippled paths we headed into the fog. 
    As we hit the fog bank we became a little fearful because we would
    loose sight of each other and at times we lost complete sight of the
    shore.  For fifteen minutes we rode in silence caught up in that
    ephemeral moment.  When we got to where we thought we should be, we cut
    the motors and glided in on the trolling motors.  We were being silent
    and deadly.  The only sound we could hear were the odd and meloncholy
    sounds of the loons calling to one another in the fog.  It was so weird
    it felt like we were the only ones on this lake.  We got ready to cast
    out, when just as quickly as it rode in the fog lifted.  The brilliant
    morning sun cut across the smooth lakes surface causing us to squint.
    
    My first cast out sent lazy circles of ripples flowing across the
    surface.  All at once the water boiled and broke with a mighty splash
    and my rod tip bent over at once.  Any residual pocket of sleep flew
    from my head as my heart went pounding into my ears.  Suddenly the dark
    beauty burst from the surface and danced on its tail before our eyes. 
    My drag started to strip out and my teeth clamped on my cigar with a
    grinding intensity.  My mind forgot all the lessons!  I actually had to
    think out loud, saying things like rod tip up!  Don't bull him in! Tire
    the brute out!  I called to my brother but all of them had hits at the
    same time.  It was every man for himself.  The rod kept its pull down,
    then the Big Brute jumped again and the rod tip went slack,  I
    thought oh God I'll loose him cause he is going deep.  He did, starting
    a hard pull to go beneath the boat.  I ran the rod around the bow and
    towards the stern.  He leaped again, but this time I was ready and kept
    the tip up and hard.  I began to draw him in and slowly he came.  But
    this one was smart and every now and then he would race straight at the
    boat.  But I was ready and each time he did that I reeled like heck to
    get him in.  It took what seemed an eternity to land him (in reality
    about 5-8 minutes).  But when the brute was on board he was a real
    beauty all 4 lbs of fighting smallmouth.  I let him go so that I can
    catch him this summer when he is trophy size.  By 8 Am that day we had
    each caught about four of these little babies and we headed in for
    chow.  On the way in we were laughing and horsing around.  Its funny,
    but a morning of good bass catching makes you happy and relaxed and the
    world is just a great place to be.  People make fun of my love for
    fishing, they just don't get it do they?
    
    So lets hear your favorite tales and pass the snow months away thinking
    about that big one next spring will land.
    
    Brian                                                         
    
    
T.RTitleUserPersonal
Name
DateLines
1279.1visualization 101TOOTER::MACINTYRETerminal AnglerTue Nov 28 1989 11:475
    Nice stuff, Brian.  It looks like Holeshot Joe has some competition in
    the colorful adjective department. 8^)
    
    donmac
    
1279.2I had sleep in my eyes tooMILKWY::MLOEWELow in sugar; Low in salt; LowenbrauFri Dec 01 1989 15:347
Hey Brian, I had a day like that once....but then I woke up.  :^)

Good story, was that before or after you left Honeywell?  Where are you at now
anyways?

Mike_L
1279.3re .2CPDW::OTAMon Dec 04 1989 09:128
    Mike
    
    That happened last year up at Belgarde.  It was one of those picture
    perfect fishing trips.
    
    I am now in Concord and you?
    
    Brian
1279.4Happy basserMILKWY::MLOEWELow in sugar; Low in salt; LowenbrauWed Dec 06 1989 12:509
Hi Brian,

I'm just three days young in Franklin (the BIG move from LMO to FXO).  It's
a nice facility, but a hellava drive!

I live in Leominster and own a boat, how 'bout *hooking* up this spring?

Mike
1279.5Walkin in my Winter underwear (in verse)CLIPR::ALLINSONThu Dec 07 1989 08:216
    
    
                  How to pass the Winter months.
    
    
              TAKE UP ICEFISHING!!!
1279.6Lets try it againCPDW::OTAWed Dec 27 1989 13:4149
    Hey Fishing Aficionado's
    
    Where are all them tall fish tales?  No takers?  Well let me give it
    one more shot, maybe you folks need another story to start your own
    juices flowing.
    
    All spring and Summer I love to get up at 5AM on the weekends grab a
    quick cup of Joe and head on down to the Watchusetts for a little
    smallmouth fishing.  As I get out of my car at the secret gate...I
    light up my favorite Cigar.  I claim its for the mosiquitoes, but in
    reality, its the only time I can smoke these gross babies and not worry
    about someone elses air space.  Its a long quiet walk to my favorite
    honey hole, which is one of those deep coves that dot the Watchusetts. 
    At that hour you can just make out the path and the walk is only broken
    by the sounds of my stumbling down the path.  As I get closer to the
    spot I start getting excited.  I am mentally walking through my
    strategy saying I will start with the Gizat on the Shimano Speedmaster
    and use the Rapala Crankbait on my Daiwa Ultra light.  Well I bust
    through the trees and walk up to my favorite spot.  Carefully laying
    down the ultra I start working the gizat along the drop off.  No luck
    seven, eight casts I decide to try the crankbait.  I start casting
    around only this time I am mentally figuiring where to move to next.  I
    chuck out one last time and pick a spot visually to move to.  About two
    feet from shore as I turn to leave whammmmm a ton of bricks hits my
    ultra light.   I give the rod a hard yank to set the hook and am
    rewarded by the squeal of my reel as line strips out like a rocket. I
    think one of the greatest battles in the world is hooking a good size
    small mouth on an ultra light set up.  That rod bends in half and the
    reel screams in agony.  I keep reeling in but for every crank in, a
    couple zip out.  I mean an ultralight closed face must have a ratio of
    3:1.  It was great fishing but after awhile panic started to set in. 
    Every time I got that baby within a couple of feet of shore he would
    run deep and then leap.  That taildance spin was awesome but after 10
    minutes my heart was thudding in my ears, my hands were sweating and I
    was hyperventilating.  Finally the fear of loosing this behemouth was
    overcoming me.  I did what every great fisherman does but never admits. 
    I wrapped my hand around the line and ran backwards like hell away from
    the water and brute forced that sucker onto the beach!  I charged back
    to grab that baby as he flopped his way back to the water.  I grabbed
    him at the edge and held him up.  A five pounder if an ounce!  I was so
    high I felt the shakes coming on.  I had to sit.  I started to laugh
    like a fool and let a good whoop out!  Its a great feeling, but never
    again have I used the ultra light.  As much as the fight was great
    seeing that rod doubled in half and not being able to reel him in
    convinced me that medium weight gear is the absolutely lightest you
    should use. 
    
    So come on you folks surely someone can outdo my stories?
    
1279.7Once is enoughVIKING::MLOEWELow in sugar; Low in salt; LowenbrauWed Dec 27 1989 15:187
Hey Brian, what gives?  Do you like to put in the same story in two different
notes?  Sounds too similar to note 1289.

So you want to hear some stories?  I've been saving a good one to tell, stay
tuned to the next reply.

Mike_L
1279.8BronzebackVIKING::MLOEWELow in sugar; Low in salt; LowenbrauWed Dec 27 1989 15:2046
Here's a story about a 40 lb "bronzeback" that was almost in my boat.
Actually, this bronzeback was golden retriever.  But sit right back and
hear a funny tale.

It was late spring, some of the female bass have spawned and others were still
on the beds.
I was out early one evening with my wife and two kids in my bass boat hitting 
the shore line in search of those big hawgs I know are in the lake.  I had 
already landed three nice size fish; largest being just under three pounds.  
I made a cast to a long dock when a large dog ran down it and looked hugrily at 
my lure just as it hit the water.  Thinking in advance, and not wanting a dog 
tangled in my line, I quickly reeled in and made another cast further up the 
shoreline off the port side of the boat.  Then "splash" the dog hit the water 
and was swimming like crazy to where my lure hit.  Then "bang", resistance on 
my line, and "pow", a three plus pound largemouth breaks the water.  The dog 
is now swimming after the fish, and the fish is now taking line off my reel.  
"Sh*t", I say to myself as I try to maneuver bucket-mouth away from the dog.
But the fish doesn't want to come in.  Two more jumps the fish makes, then it
dives down deep.  Now the dog is directly over the fish from where it last
broke water.  "What now" I'm saying as my wife and kids are starting to
laugh.  Then the line went slack.  "Darn, I lost it" I said, "thanks to that 
stupid dog".  But "zzzzz" the line is now stripping to the starboard side of 
the boat; opposite from where the dog now is.  "Hah, I'm going to get 'em after 
all".  But Rover doesn't think so.  Splash, splash, splash; he starts making 
his way to the boat and making good time at it too.  Now the fish swims around 
to the same side as the dog is.  "This is going to be close" I said as I closed
the gap between myself and the fish, and with Rover closing his too.  Rover is
now along the side of the boat and my wife and kids are no longer laughing;
they're getting soaked from the dog splashing in water.  I finally get the fish
close enough and swing it over the side of the boat just as the dog reached it.
In fact he tried taking a couple of swipes at it as I swung it over the side.
Well Rover is now kinda pooped and I think he wants a rest, because he 
wants to come in the boat.  This brings my wife and kids to start yelling.  
Now I love animals as well as the next guy, but I'm not bringing a wet walking 
carpet in my boat to shake a vigorating swim off next to me, my wife and kids.  
So holding the fish in one hand and my rod in the other, I jumped on my remote 
foot-control trolling motor and on full pound thrust, start hi-tailing it 
out of there.  Well Rover turns out to be quite a good swimmer and keeps up 
along the side of the boat for a good 30' or so.  But even dogs eventually 
tire out and he started to lag behind.  Finally, he gave up and swam back to 
shore.  It was only then that I had time to examine my fish, a beautiful 
female loaded with eggs a little over three pounds.  I went back to the spot 
where I caught her and gently released her with Rover watching from the 
shoreline.

Mike_L
1279.9And you want me on your boat?CPDW::OTAWed Jan 03 1990 09:037
    Mike
    
    That was one funny story, however after reading it I'm not so sure I
    want to get on your boat with you.  I prefer landing behmouths with
    scales not fur!
    
    Brian
1279.10Oscar MayerVIKING::MLOEWELow in sugar; Low in salt; LowenbrauWed Jan 03 1990 12:068
re: .9

Brian,

Don't worry, the only dogs I plan on landing are the hot "dogs" on my
barbeque.

Mike