Reflections…
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A calm apprehension while sitting with a warm coffee at Maurice’s kitchen table. Stealing the occasional glance from his window out over Lillabelle, and the fully loaded Cessna parked afloat at his dock, each passing cloud whispered of a lifting ceiling to come. Best laid plans to depart at sunrise for camp on Partridge Lake were put on hold a time but, Brenda and I were okay with that. Racing from our jobs back home after having quickly packed the girls away, the drive and sleepless nights preceding our arrival north were threatening exhaustion, so it was welcoming to simply stop, take a breath, relax a little, and enjoy Maurice’s hospitality.
The evening of January 27th, 2010 I opened an email from one Maurice Robin. Recently acquired from Gardiner Air Services, True North Air Service was Maurice’s new business, which provided access to several fishing camps north of Cochrane Ontario. A friend of mine had given Maurice my name, possibly explaining to him that I write online fishing reports, and am rather partial to chasing trophy pike on one of his accessible lakes, Kesagami. Maurice had me hook, line and sinker first cast really, as my interest is always piqued when it comes to fishing my old northern home, but I needed to make it clear to him that I don’t hold back with what is chosen to report. That fishing is not professional for me, it’s honest, rewarding and instead quite personal, often to be shared in trust with friends. So, if his service could deliver or not, it would be written. To my surprise Maurice answered, “I’m new to this business Andrew, and the truth is exactly what I’m looking for.”
With Kesagami there was little doubt fish would be caught, although my best experience was through the ice. Part of me wondered if I would actually drown his hopes on the soft-water. Over a couple emails, a few phone calls and the recruitment of some buddies, a deal was struck for all to fish with True North in 2010. It turned out to be incredible and even better than expected. During the weeks short evenings between four of us we caught hundreds of walleye just on Partridge Lake alone, and through the long days we fished Kesagami we managed 17 pike over 40-inches, one near 48, and dozens of 35-40 inchers. The fishing delivered and then some, and so did Maurice. His camp was meticulously kept after being newly renovated, attention to every detail quite evident, and nothing was left wanting for any of us. Carl, Mike, Grant and I marveled over every minute of it.
Because Maurice is a person one can respect, early on it became easy for me to admire him. An entrepreneur, a self-made man, and quite peculiarly a risk-taker given his rather careful and organized manner, it was an adventurous spirit and a will to be challenged which superceded his cautious other self, when ultimately taking on True North. At his table, sharing pike, walleye and brook trout fishing, work and life stories, and reliving his wild-rapids, Naden boat trip down the Kesagami River to supply lumber and materials for rebuilding Partridge Camp, his enthusiasm and spirit was palpable. Although our pre-flight morning skies were grey and cruddy for a time, listening to experiences such as Maurice’s surely brightened the horizon.
This past spring Maurice emailed to announce he was selling the business. Partridge and another brook trout camp on Echo Lake were doing well, but his costs and personal demands of outfitting many lakes were only breaking him even. Sad with the news it took awhile for me to properly respond. Brenda and I had been considering fishing Kesagami through the comforts of the lodge this summer, but unfortunately our vacation dates could not align with their open season. Kesagami Lodge is a beautiful spot with excellent food and service; something Brenda would probably appreciate most, yet truthfully my heart with that lake has always marched to a more solitary beat. Understanding that with Maurice you can step from the bush to the beach and gaze outward on the lake knowing you and your company are the only people there, the only one’s fishing and exploring it that given day… well that is, and pretty well always has been the chosen Kesagami experience for me.
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Over the years Brenda and I have enjoyed our time on Kesagami immensely. Our first trip March 25th, 2005 was a cold, blustery, four hour icefishing fly-in which yielded 24 walleye and one big fish bite off. Two days later I returned with a friend and his father and caught my first trophy pike at forty inches. Return winter trips annually over the next six years would allow us some fishing days out there of multiple trophy pike, and upwards to a best day of ninety iced walleye. I would catch and release some kind of new personal best each season, and when others would join us they too would almost certainly catch trophies of their own. Experiences that have put countless smiles on friends and our faces. It was magical in all sense fishing those times, a wonderful place on ice where we were often dropped and left alone to laugh for hours while setting hook after hook. I would study Kesagami, dream about it, live for it each year, challenge it, and between that first day and today make 23 fly-in trips to the lake, fishing all months February thru August and hoist many, many big beautiful northerns and plump golden walleyes.
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PARTRIDGE.
A buzzing plane from the nearby airport took to the sky near noon. Bren and I had since finished our coffees with Maurice, been to town for a big breakfast and returned with hopes we would soon fly. We all watched anxiously as the plane crept higher, and seeing that the low ceiling had been comfortably lifted, Maurice suddenly said, “let’s go!”
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Nervous excitement as our Cessna climbed off from the lake, I think all held their breaths as we turned the plane northward and assessed the horizon. Our distance looked good, here and there were small cells of weather we’d possibly have to maneuver, but our ceiling was ample now and the compass setting sure and true. In the air I was quickly overwhelmed with thoughts of past trips to Kesagami, good times once shared, and one burdening reality that this may be my final trip to the lake. As a friend, Maurice was kind to offer Brenda and I this visit, one which could be the last to have any stay and close-up Partridge Lake. “You should keep it Maurice, just Partridge,” I begged. “You should buy it Andrew,” he replied. In my old life I maybe would, I thought.
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Landing unscathed on Partridge, Maurice was hurried along by a large southern front which had chased us all north. The generator would need some easy tweaking and fuel considerations through the week, but we had a back-up and propane lights as well. The boat gas for Kesagami’s fleet would be just “about” right, although we had flown in an extra 5-gallons in case. And lastly, there would be no shortage of raspberries around camp or space for Brenda and I to roam alone. Pick-up in one week, Maurice took off for home about ten minutes before a wall of rain hit. We spent the late afternoon settling in.
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Brenda’s last visit to Kesagami had been in March 2009. She had never fished the lake other than on ice. It had always been a hope she would agree to accompanying me at least once on a summer trip, so I was quite happy to have her along this season. Bren may have come sooner but life has a funny way of passing each of us by. Her years since 2009, she and I had made the move from Moose Factory to the Ottawa Valley and settled in. In the meantime, Bren first found full-time work in a community health practice as well as in a hospital doing obstetrical and med-surg nursing. Later, she took on a role for a year with a community project to help many people without physicians find suitable coverage. But, most importantly during all this time, Brenda finished her Master’s in the Nursing Program with the University of Ottawa and, before final graduation had already secured a full-time position as a Nurse-Practioner with a new clinic opening in the region. Not too bad a stretch at all, and our family is certainly very proud of her accomplishments.
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SHAPIRO.
A cool and windy morning gave way early to sun and a warming southwest blow. Offshore further out on Kesagami Lake the waves were up, yet in front of our boat cache the water was like glass. The portage from Partridge was a little slippy and soggy from the nights heavy rain and our ankles weren’t stiffened yet from the repeated walks across, but still, in that earliest trip with gear and then even beyond, the exercise never took more than ten minutes.
By 9:00am we were setting out lines on the troll and at 9:20am Brenda scared the living crap out of me when in all one motion she suddenly stood and powerfully drove an enormous hookset into the first pike of the trip. Right off we could tell it was a giant pike, and Brenda was nervously laughing her way through a spirited battle. The pike had but one hook on the treble just barely embedded in the tip of it’s top lip. I was a little rusty with handling another’s fish and twice she sprung away on hard reel-peeling escapes, but third try I did manage to slide four fingers under the plate of one submitted, thick pike. Tale of the tape it easily bested the length of Bren’s old 41-inch PB, but most impressive was the girth. Late summer and fall pike are feeding machines, and this one Brenda fed at the right time, in the right place with the right lure she picked; a lure she now safe-guarded her favorite for the rest of the week.
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Resetting it was best to stay put and really work the area. Two out of three trips past, this was my big fish spot. Depths from 2-10fow it was interesting to have a sonar this trip for the first time. We were in one wicked transition zone, with plenty subtle ups and downs just inside on the flat, sparse isolated offshore cabbage beds heading towards the deep, and a long defining shelf extending off a point. The wind this day was just right to blow bait off or along the flat, to fall over the shelf and across the point into some cabbage. It all played quite perfectly for a pike ambush from any angle.
Half hour after the first fish Brenda sprung from her seat again. Trolling same direction, same place, same spoon, same 2.8mph she put the same “umph” into crossing this next pike’s eyes. The fish in turn gave her an immediate charge right back and it ran hard… over my line.
Reeling in we had a cluster-shmuck on our hands. My line, leader and spoon were wrapped and knotted around hers, and while trying to hold all things together and make quick work, the fish was running away from the boat. One point the braid wrapped and tightened around my index finger and sliced into me good, and after a quick and stupid attempt to hand-line in the fish, come this point Bren opened the bail and I guided some of her line out to let it swim further away and provide a more forgiving time and space. Before long, we realized the fish was just there, well back from the boat, swimming with us on the drift and not fighting, only waiting. Not putting any line pressure on, the fish allowed a little time to better assess things, and that’s when I did what I should have done first, cut my line. Like that, Bren now began putting the gears to the pike and once it came boat-side we were in awe. Another huge pike lay in wait for Brenda. It took a run from the boat same time I jumped forward to loosen Bren’s drag. After that, it was all up to her and she did awesome, same as the other fish, played it great, this one an even bigger pike than the first. Another new PB just 55-minutes now into the fishing trip, we were both flippin’ right out.
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It released stong and shortly after I got a scrappy pike of my own.
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The morning slowed down after that first flurry. Bren and I explored some nearby cabbage beds in a couple of the southern bays, and then drove northward to fish up some afternoon walleye we would soon be sampling for dinner. After cleaning the fish at one of the lake’s shorelunch beach spots, we simply decided to just kick back awhile, enjoy some sun, and rest before an evening of casting for more giants.
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A couple of the northern bays on the lake wouldn’t cough up squat that evening. With Kesagami I have learned over the years that the sun is very much your friend for pike. Fish can certainly be caught on overcast days, especially if the day is a stable cloudy, but when the sun shines even if just for a moment after popping out from behind some clouds, more fish will open their mouths. Through the ice or in the boat, the better time to fish pike is when the sun is bright. Well on this day, Brenda and I kinda unknowingly chilled through the best of it before the south wind switched to the north, and blew us back to Partridge to fish out our time for walleye. All good!
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FOSSIL.
There’s nothing quite like the sleep one gets after spending a full day playing outdoors. It’s uncanny that less is actually needed too, because it’s such a sound and deep sleep. It felt goooood to wake with stiff muscles and bones, and slip from the warm sleeping bag to heat up the kettle.
For the first time, instead of big breakfasts like those always cooked on similar fishing trips in past, Brenda requested the starts be a little more simple. Cereal, berries, yogurt, coffee and juice, admittedly I kinda preferred this. Easy to whip-up, doesn’t bog ya down, fewer dishes to clean, and actually gets us moving sooner. She’s always one step ahead of me it seems, even when I think she’s miles behind. And once she got a hold of the meal plan too, she was quick to note that this dinner or that might better suited for her here or there. No problemos, only gotta ask.
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A big south wind battered the dock but we slipped away anyhow, and made our daily 20-minute trek from Partridge over to Kesagami Lake. Clouds rolling in early, on the big lake the wind offshore pushed whitecaps northward. Nearby Small Bay was fish-able but after a time we didn’t even move one fish. Unable to venture north we opted to sail south keeping tight to our west shoreline. Shaps & Edgar proved tough and when the wind finally died early afternoon, Fossil gave up no pike either. Oddly, rain surrounded the lake all morning and into the early afternoon. Every compass setting was taking on water, sometimes all of them at once, yet on the lake we remained untouched. After giving into trolling the shoal at Fossil for some walleyes, a little sky spit did eventually fall and we parked a moment on Fossil to have a beach-side snack under the trees, while waiting to see what happens.
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We found some ripe raspberries to pick, pumped some water through the MSR, and took a few photos while stretching our legs over an hour or so. The bit of wind completely died and the sky gave us a good looking window to the north, so we jumped in the boat and made our way.
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Taking off from shore and peeking back behind, a huge southern wall of rain ominously crept towards us, and I figured the lake would divide it sending the rain around us like it had all day. Turned out, my prediction was wrong. We no sooner made the North Bay and the rain began to pour down. Tucking into a small island shorelunch spot, the black spruce there sheltered us perfectly for a full two hours. Rain not letting up at all though, we were forced to retreat for an early supper back at the cabin.
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Kesagami’s weather is so raw and unruly, I would think it maybe akin to the Maritimes..? James & Hudson Bay so close by, the elevation within 60 miles rising from sea-level to 1000 feet, a jet stream that often dives with Arctic air below the southern point of James Bay, and plenty surrounding moist muskeg to provide the humidity for thunderstorms after any sun has shone, it is the land of extremes, and where one can experience much in just one day. This evening that south wind switched to northeast, to northwest, and before sunset I could see my breath while sitting in the outhouse. A cold front arrived, the rain poured down hard too, but in the cabin Brenda started a fire, I poured a scotch and we enjoyed a cozy game of Rummy before settling to bed.
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NORTH.
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Nearly noon before the fog would lift and we saw signs that beyond the low ceiling was actually some daylight in the world above. Bren and I had started out on Partridge for about an hour just trolling up some eyes in wait. She was confident we’d catch fish this day, and we did.
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When the sun hit my face it was time, and we made a B-line back to the cabin to have some lunch, grab our gear and make the trip over to Kesagami.
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With the rising temps through the day another mixed bag of weather would roll through. Wind from the north now, it opened up easy fish and travel to Small, No Name, North and Michelbob’s Bays, as well as Windigo. We spent the afternoon mostly casting for pike, and although slower than usual, we did release a number of smaller fish. Again, when the sun came out the action heated up…
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As for the big ones, I lost a forty or so to stupidity at boat-side, had a mid to high 40-incher follow to the boat from it’s rocky lair in about two feet of water, and did manage one good fish for the books.
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Shortened tour by all accounts, but being midway through the trip we retired back to the cabin happy to have had better weather and fishing than the previous day. Finishing again on Partridge for some evening walleye fun, Mother Nature offered about twenty-minutes time before she unleashed a nasty that hurried us off the lake. That was caught on video if interested… and with that vid a tour of the cabin as well. All that kinda stuff and more can be watched below.
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BIG.
I hadn’t noticed until this day but Brenda had taken to timing us across the portage, and this morning there was a little more spring in our step than usual. “Seven minutes,” she announced once stepping onto the beach at our boat cache at 9:00am. It’s funny, but as much as I try and hoped for her to have the best time, through many little things she does, she ensures the same in return. There’s no belly-aching about anything with Bren. The meals she enjoys, knowing that thought and time was put into every one. The fishing she trusts, because she’s learned I do my homework. What loads she can carry, she does without request. Brenda understands that a fishing trip for me is about the fishing and time spent with company doing that. Later nights, excessive boozing, sleeping in, lazin’ around the cabin, trips like those are for some other kind of vacationers, because I prefer to have as much of my waking time and energy as possible, spent on the water; especially while able to do so in such awesome places. Brenda is the same with pretty well everything. She rarely stops moving, and because so, this makes her a perfectly fit companion on any fishing trip. She also knows better than anyone that for me fishing trips are for fishing, and happiest when doing so.
We had played it safe with the big winds through our first three days. Kesagami can be nasty with it being so big and shallow, and its ability to kick-up gnarly waves in an instant is intimidating. Truth is, James Bay, the Oceans, the Great Lakes and Nipigon are the only places that can cause equal worry to this big water wimp. A 14-foot boat with a 9.9 motor also isn’t the vessel to be brave in, but admittedly I find a Naden boat to be quite an incredibly sea-worthy and hardy ride out there. There was no need for worry on this day at all.
Kesagami was calm. Having not yet visited Big Island, Kentucky and South Bays, we burned over flat waters to arrive there in no time.
Casting around some familiar weedbeds and trolling around points and shoals our luck with the big pike remained poor, although some decent fish were still caught.
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It was our nicest morning, which lasted into late lunch before finally rounding the north tip of Big Island from it’s east side. Noticing a southwest had been building a little we opted to ride easy to the north. Through the afternoon a mixed bag of variable skies and winds, along with a little rain passed through. After fishing a hard six hours or so until 3:00pm, we ducked into a little shorelunch rest-stop to have an hours break.
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Rejuventated and a belly full of Jelly Bellies, I pounded prime spots in two bays for hours. The cabbage was lush green this year, the water levels definitely higher than normal, the surface water temps somewhere around high 60’s into the low 70’s, baitfish schools moving over weed, through it and along pencil weed edges that meet the bage… but I didn’t have a follow, miss or boil for over three hours. Finally, late day two smaller pike actually opened their mouths to bite a lure.
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Full steak dinner on the menu we shut down around 7:30pm and made our way back to the cabin. Turned out to be just in time too. Our usual blast of wind and rain would soon arrive for the night, though on this evening, we were treated so graciously to our shoreline lighting up from the falling sun, a rainbow and a perfect golden sunset to enjoy through our dinner.
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It’s an incredible place…
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PICKEREL.
Coldest morn yet and damp, couldn’t have been much above freezing when we woke, yet the sun was coming and things were going to warm… we hoped. A light wind straight off James Bay in the north brought fog in and out but we were game to play.
On Kesagami Lake I gazed out far for whitecaps but couldn’t see any in the distance. Never in all trips had I visited Pickerel Point or Battleship Island so that was the mornings plan. Since our first day on the big water, first hour actually, we had only caught one more pike over forty inches and struggled to even spot many more of the giants I just knew were sulking below us but gun shy. Idea with a totally new location was to simply explore for any fresh fish that hadn’t seen a lure, or let alone heard a boat in weeks. Could at anytime in the week opted to just pound dozens of walleye, but chasing after even one big fish is more appealing.
Arriving at Battleship and trolling the shoal into behind Pickerel we caught a couple pike right off the bat. Tucked behind the point and on flat water I noticed grass and cabbage mixed, so I shut the motor down for some casts. BANG, BANG, BANG. Three fish in a row for me and Brenda was close behind nailing two. On one cast to come I had a large fish boil and miss, then wake in behind the lure while following. Near boatside, BANG, a teenager rushed in and smoked my lure right in front of the big stalking gator, ruining ever sighting that girl again. The calm shallows, the sun out and beating down on that spot, Brenda and I in a short hour must have nailed a dozen and a half decent fish before things slowed down and we moved back onto trolling the shoal. But the clouds came in, the wind kicked up some, and Big Island, South Bay and even Windigo through ti’ll mid afternoon basically shut down on our run and gun. Spoons, spinners, Raps, slower soft plastics and even jigs, the fish didn’t want anything. A few playful pike on the walleye gear were caught later on though. Maybe should have let Brenda drift a live walleye on a quick-strike under a float, maybe that would have worked?
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Fresh moose and bear tracks on the trail across to Partridge, Brenda and I returned there early to enjoy the best bite there is, the Grocery Store. For a cold evening it was a hot finish, and we laughed and joked around plenty while taking turns with the GoPro.
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SMALL.
[img]http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a154/Bunx/Bunx%20Album3/K116_zps10e01dfa.jpg[/img]
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I had hoped the final day would bring warmth, sun and calm, and that many big fish which had surely seen our lures zing by overhead all week, would suddenly strike out against us in droves. But it was a different setting we woke early to, and a feeling of melancholy quickly crept in.
Moping around until noon the fog gave way to frigid, strong north winds. Our early August trip seemed to fall into a late September James Bay climate, and I remained at the cabin this day unsure of the best time to get going. While bored, I snapped some pics of the place, even the new cabin that hasn’t even had any guests yet. Again, sad to think that Maurice had put all this work into making the place so great, and he’s now wanting to sell it. A group of anglers and hunters could only be so lucky to buy it.
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Brenda and I played a game of Rummy and she happily won. While she read later on, I sat feeling blue, remembering past days at Kesagami with others, envisioning a cabin full of boisterous anglers excited after a days fishing, maybe sitting down to a giant meal together and pouring a drink. Thoughts of the Grocery Store, this guy’s best pike caught in this bay, that guy’s best caught in that one, it wasn’t where I wanted to be at that moment, but understanding that this day could be my last, I knew those feelings would come to haunt me at some point in the trip.
“Enough being depressed,” Brenda said around noon. “You told me before that the biggest fish often bite when all the other’s won’t, so lets get going.” It is true… some days. An uncanny, but only occasional luck with bigger walleye, pike, lakers and specks on the dirtier days, has historically been my experience. I agreed with Brenda, there was no sense sticking around any longer in the cabin. “If we’re going over into that cold wind and drizzle we’re dressing warm and I’m planning to troll until coming back late,” I warned. Bren was ready, she prefers trolling anyways.
Instead of casting the many cabbage beds we had through our earlier days, I decided we would troll them. On the big lake once getting too far offshore, the north wind was really blowing things up anyways, so taking our time traveling and trolling was a safe way to cruise. On Kesagami we started right out in front of the boat cache and pointed north. Annoying enough running lures through and over surface high weeds, Brenda and I both chose weedless Johnson silver spoons and prayed for the best.
It was around 2:00pm and we hadn’t ventured too far within our first hour, when Brenda’s rod buckled to the cork. I was staring at her when it happened and she drove it hard into what she immediately announced was a snag. Having seen the initial bend, and witnessing a second hard tweak on the tip immediately following the first pull, I replied to her, “you might be snagged now, but there’s a fish too, and a good one I think.”
Reeling up and popping the boat into neutral, by then Brenda was well aware she had a big pike on the line. Spinning rod, 30-pound test, 45lb home-made steel leader, and a determined woman on the winch and pole, it still took a good long while before the pike would surface. When it finally did, I think I might have sharted in my pants a little. Unbelievably girthy and thick backed, I felt right then and there that the biggest pike I have ever seen might just be boated, and man I didn’t want to screw that up for Bren in our final hours.
Reaching over the gunnel the fish wasn’t ready, and several times when going for the grab it tore off. The hook was thick and juicy into the upper lip and so at least that wasn’t a worry. When Bren turned it to me for the last time, I slid my hand under it’s jaw and squeezed tight. The pike was super tense like a muskie but it didn’t budge an inch. Pulling it’s weight and laying it on the seat in front of her, Bren was beaming from ear to ear and shouting out “Woo Hoos” one after another. “Ohhh my God that’s TOTALLY B-AWESOME,” was one of her retro quotes thrown in there as well. She did it again. And not with all my fishing in Ontario had I seen a pike this thick. By length she was only just slightly shy of a couple giants once caught, but by girth it was a pike unmatched. Lady luck… absolutely, but you still gotta see this woman set a hook to believe it. Mother Nature might own Kesagami, but if there’s a mother out there that over the years has owned it’s pike, it could very well be Bren.
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It remained rather nasty out for the duration of the afternoon. We did get into bays further north by boating along the lee-side shorelines. After Bren’s giant there were a good few more caught too, until the thickness in the clouds began to break up, the wind blew a little harder and the temps got even more chilly. For us, for me especially, I didn’t really care anymore what was to become of our last hours. The perfect pike, for a perfect ending, with perfect company in a place so inspiring and extraordinary, it was another truly unique Kesagami experience.
Clouds, or storms and rain every other night we were there, unbelievably the wind died down and the skies cleared for our final sunset over Partridge. A game of Rummy, Bren tied our series at three games a piece before we finally retired.
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Bunk
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