Very little traffic on the drive north to Mattice, Chrish and I had turned out my driveway before 6:00am on our way to the Agent Stevie Z.

None stop chatter from the two of us the entire ten hours, it was evident we were both excited to get away. Chrish had never done this, never had he taken on such an extensively long fishing and camping trip before. He put a lot of faith in what I know and do often. And yet I wondered, how he would manage putting up with me for nearly two weeks? I am not always easy, tad moody, rather OCD, and we are both similar-like Captains of our experiences. Yet deeply I felt that if anyone could have the patience and intelligence to ride shotgun, help out when asked or tasked with anything and, have the skill and energy to fish a lot, it was Chrish. In fact, I also wondered plenty if on this trip it would be me slowing him down? The dood’s a warrior on the water, a power most often exceeding many anglers I know, for certainly me.

At Stevie Z’s it was marvelous to see how much the kids have grown. Amelie put together a homemade lasagna for dinner, not realizing it’s a favorite for Chrish. As always on our visits, the hosts spoil us with food, drink and warm hospitality, we eventually ended this night after some Euchre. But then later on, troubled some I laid in bed afterwards, unable to fall asleep right away. Despite the great start to our trip there was something on my mind that quite disappointed me…
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RUINING ANOTHER FISHERY.

The following day was as long as the first. The drive, camp and launch took about 12 hours time. On the way I had bumped into my buddy Craig from Thunder Bay, it was totally great to see him, he’s my favorite “gin” friend of all time.

The camp was overgrown and rather messy when we arrived. High water had been further eroding the landing bank and dead trees were looking ready to fall. Chrish and I set up most everything we’d need to for the remainder of our stay, settling right in and ready fast.

By 6:00pm we were able to get out for a few hours fishing. The first stop I wanted to demonstrate to Chrish the cast and reel action I like, and how Bren does it too. On that first throw my lure hit the water and instantly there was a trout on. We both laughed at the luck of it. “This fishery is ruined” I told him, then we chuckled some more.

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On the troll Chrish would find his first speck a little later on. It must have been a smaller one, otherwise there’d be a photo of it some place. Maybe Chrish’s phone..? Anyhow that was mission accomplished, he and I in under a few hours had officially fished out the entire lake. The rest of our week was now looking very, very, very… very bleak.
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TIMESTAMP LAKERS

Some morning showers and the fact that the fresh air and long travel had quite tired us out, we were alright with a late start. Out around 10:00am the first stop was for more specks.

The bite was quite off for Chrish. He was just honing in on the little things, those nuances necessary for catching a fish that he’d little experience with. In the meantime, I was on a bit of a streak popping a number of quality trout back-to-back and right out from under him. No apologies!

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After leaving to try some other places for the same quarry, it was after lunch when deciding to switch gears entirely and go for some lake trout.

Over the next six hours Chrish and I would take turns boating 27 lakers, sharing six double-headers and high-fiving our way through a great and many awesome big grey trout. I honestly found it exhausting as much as exciting! Overheating at one point, there wasn’t even time to shed some layers and change sweaty socks in the boat. Extreme action, non-stop labor and truly the fastest big water laker fishing likely ever enjoyed in Ontario. Just check out the time stamps on seven of these better catches that were photographed.

2:47pm

3:57pm

4:18pm

4:32pm

5:07pm

5:38pm

6:21pm

6:22pm

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Before finishing up I’d spot my friend Keith arriving with his family. Staying nearby it was good to know he was here and on the water with us. Salt of the earth this fella and his family.

Happy to have quite quickly and completely ruined the fishery for a second time this day, Chrish and I retired for supper. Night before was spinach and beef ravioli in marinara with some diced green onions, tomatoes, parmesan and shredded cheese, this evening it’d be jerk-turkey fajitas with some extra fixins. Good food only adds to a great day on the lake, and we were spoiling ourselves with the best of it all.
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CHRISHTRIO.

Bruce is a beauty who makes my motor purr like a kitty. My trusted mechanic at home, the Yamaha doesn’t often squeak and squeal but when it does, Bruce Almighty is always right there to giver the grease and guts it needs to be tuned up into top shape. I put the hours on a motor and having just changed the timing belt and oils for the mid-season check, it ran great for our trip.

Chrish and I popped an early speck each, his being a little better to show off.

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After a couple hours of that it only made sense we finally try for pike. So far for the trip Chrish had caught first and best brookies and, new personal best lakers… and by a mile too. Those few hours evening one followed by the incredible full day we just shared, it was still early morning this third day and we both hoped Chrish could beat his personal best pike from back home, a skinny 44-incher caught many moons ago. Well, we didn’t have to go far and it sure didn’t take too long to check this box.

Chrish casted a long bomb out there and knew right away he was into a good one. For a second I thought he may be fooling around but, anyone who knows this him and his first class skill with big, toothy muskies, he is NEVER one to waste any time reeling big fish to a net. He broke a third species personal best for the trip with this pike, and with the catch the fishery totally collapsed in ruins as the lake suddenly swallowed itself whole… I’ll doubt another pike will ever be caught again. Haha!

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There was other fishing to be had though, and be it so Chrish and I moved on for more lakers. A short window opened and together we fooled 4 for 6 over a couple hours. Lost a big one too, a real stinger, but Chrish did get a solid burpshark topside. Not even lunch time yet and already he’d spunked a speck, punked a PB pike and lunkered a laker. A Chrishtrio completo!

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I fudgnucked it all up for us taking the final minutes of action away just cause the belly said so. Growl growl man! Found a decent spot to park and with Keith and his family in their boat pulling up beside, we all got together for a nice lunch break visit under the sun. An eagle came by for a visit too, real scavenger like the rest of them raptors although pretty to photograph.

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Clouds rolled in and winds picked up pretty good in the afternoon. Tillerlife gets kinda sucky when that happens but, we made the best of it. I nabbed a speckle for the efforts and even found out a little more of some lake history on our afternoon tour-about. Before long it was dinner and after finishing up we did fish again a short while, with nothing to show for it.
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EXPLORING NORTHERN LIGHTS.

Rising a little late we blanked first on a short speck run but then redeemed ourselves with a solid 10 for 11 on lakers. They weren’t magnificent lakers by our standards so that’s why the camera didn’t capture them disappointing below averagers.

Much of my day was spent with the chills, they just got deep into me as a blow was building up again. Searching out calm waters we hooked a couple pike here and there before throwing caution to that wind and taking a drive. Way back in the winter months I’d been sitting down researching with the SATS and maps pouring over every inch of every mile the lake could offer. It was then I got it in my head to re-explore some old stuff that hadn’t been visited in probably a decade or more. Had a hunch, and had learned a lot too about the fishing since those days back when. Some waters that had been righted off after the first visit, in hindsight they shouldn’t have been. You can’t or maybe shouldn’t count out spots after just a visit or two, that right eh!?

Chrish so easy to please and up for just about anything, anytime, but always and preferably muskie first, unless the lake doesn’t have muskie, in which case Chrish would still try and find them if I agreed to try, despite there being a 100% likelihood of failure… and second to the muskie, the lakers, even if every fiber of my being and the incredible knowledge I have for them deep trout told me that there would be a 100% guarantee of failure well then, after those two fish options are full eliminated from any and all discussion, Chrish would be easy to please, up for anything and in this case, some pike or specks… probably in that order..? Haha! The man never stops thinking about muskie is what I’m saying here.

We found a cool spot that I overlooked years ago. There was much more to the area than I had ever thought, and at first glance it called out pike, so we hooked some of those. And in the process, casting a big ole toothy lure, I hooked a nice speck there too. Damn! This place gots it some weird potential.

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And wouldn’t ya know it, that as we were leaving we’d stumble upon more specks and then a whitefish too. Chrish getting the next one.

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Another day of ruining the already thrice this trip ruined fishery was in the books and we were both (likely just me) hungry for more… food! Yep, FOOD! An early supper was had and before long I set off for a date with Keith, Darolyn and Caden.

A great evening with the best of the best of the best people ensued! Campfire, whiskey, northern lights and all in wonderful company, such a pleasure I didn’t want to leave… Bit sauced up, just a bit but don’t tell, it was quite late when saying my goodbyes and heading back to camp. After midnight, in the pitch black on the lake I got myself turned around a little for a minute, but the GPS eventually caught up to my position, aligned with my mind and placed me back on track.
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CITY BOY!

Needless to say I slept in and woke with a headache. No rush, it had been raining. By noon it looked mint out though, so it was figured to take Chrish on a long run for specks then fart around later in a good pike spot.

The whole afternoon was a swing and a miss. FFS!!! The spot kicks me in the kiwis all too often now, maybe I ruined it some years ago, because what should be coughing up a half dozen specks followed by a few forty plus pike, didn’t! It did like a year or two ago actually, for the specks anyways, but not the pike. The pike fishing there has been off for awhile longer now. Chrish and I only got a few smaller snots then I made him some chili which he professed to just love, so all wasn’t lost.

While cooking out of the wind a boat in the distance went zipping on by. “I think that’s Stevie,” I told Chrish. I think he buggered off up to where we had started but, he missed us when going by. The winds picking up little by little too, I worry about Stevie Z out there sometimes. Chrish and I were planning to head off elsewhere and try for lakers before it might get too bouncy under our seats.

A good call that was. In short order our hooks set into ten lakers and we managed eight to the boat. We kept a small greaser to go with a whitefish we planned to have for supper, and some bigger fish were caught as well. Keeping maybe none to six fish a trip while catching and releasing 100’s if not 1000’s of others, it’s enough to ruin a fishery like this good and quick.

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Back at camp Stevie arrived and the three amigos were reunited. ARIBA! The Agent was in rare form too, amped right up for some Party Time Go! Got scary a minute when he called Chrish a “city boy” cause damn, albeit a bit short in stature Chrish is sort of a pretty jacked dood! Wouldn’t mess with him myself, his arms are thicker than my legs.

It was all in good fun though, the city boy comments kept flying, the whiskey pouring, the fire burning, the daylight dwindling into night… and the winds still building too. I don’t always show the happiness on the outside, long have I been spoiling myself too, but having these two in camp with me and for more days ahead, it was a good feeling. We were gonna have more fun!
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FIRE AND WINDIGOS.

We didn’t get going ti’ll noon and because much of the lake was too big to handle, we were forced to skirt along lee shores and take slower routes to reach any fishing spots at all. In doing so I plucked a speck along the way and Stevie snagged a sucker.

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Everything shut down tight that afternoon, no pike, no more specks. Northwest’er gusting to 80k it was a wonder we were even out there at all. Much of the afternoon all I could think about were the pork chops planned for supper. Mmmmm pork! Didn’t bring a lunch in the boat and by 4:00pm I’d just about had it with absolute starvation! Back to camp for an early meal.

Later we’d find a short window to bouncy-bob around in the big stuff for lakers. Can’t say it was comfortable but it actually put four fish in the boat, a ten pounder being the best. That one big one was funny, for it said with a sharp grin on the release, “you’re a fishery ruining fucker Bunker! Keeping a fisheye on you!” That one seemed a real greasy greaser.

We retired to an awesome campfire, shooting stars, talk of women, maybe their boobs, work, Windigos and some of the bullshit we face in our world today. But ohhhh now to talk of some of that stuff in the place we were in, we really are just spoiled men in all truth. Good lives and loving wives. Our late hour whiskeys and words extended right to midnight and with the new day we were able to say, Happy Birthday Chrish!
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SAFE AND SECURE.

Poopy night sleep… Yawn! The big gusts howling it rocked the boat sorta hard during the night, several times I was out of the tent to either tighten ropes, check the bow wasn’t hitting anything and listen for rocks rubbing the bottom. It would turn out that I both worry too much and do a good job of securing Bambalam at the same time.

We’d spend three hours together as a threesome chasing specks around. Stevie would catch three and a best for his trip at nearly 25 inches, I’d pick up three specks too and Chrish would nab one. A perfectly scripted time together after the tough conditions day before.

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Chrish and I broke off a “piece of that Kit Kat bar” (what does that mean? You remember?) mid afternoon while Stevie ran to the launch for Amelie and his son Ben. Once they were in and settled, Dory and Bambalam were back underway in different directions to chase greys and specks.

We started with the greys but arriving over the fish we could see 99% of them were belly to bottom and few were to actually be found at all. To me that’s a waste of time. You can get’em sure, yet the chance of that is really, really slim. You will grind, perhaps even snag one, but after a 27 fish afternoon earlier in the trip I wasn’t feeling it worth any effort at all. But Chrish, the optimistic and energized Warrior Beast, well he isn’t so easily defeated so we gave it an hour, skunked and then both happily moved on.

To finish up we fished specks. Chrish pegged two and the nicest, a 24 incher, and I reeled in four more. Turned out to be a 14 speck day for Bambalam, pretty good stuff considering me and friends ruined this fishery about a million times over.

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Amelie had ordered and brought in pizza to heat on the fire for supper, and together by the fire we celebrated Chrish’s Birthday and the purdy good life we were dealt.
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CIRCLE JERK.

Up and at’em for 0638 hours eastern standard Zulu time… if that makes any sense? Keith was back on the lake with his friend Jeffrey and together three boats were headed on a long bomb tour to some far off magical laker grounds.

Bambalam took the lead. The bellies of the lake were a big lumpy-bumpy but we cruised through it just fine. When we finally arrived at our destination I quickly felt that the run had been a total waste of time. A fruitful area normally, few fish were to be found, quite shittyfeck!

On to plan B. Another good distance to go we got ober der, few fish were found aaaannnnnd, feckyshit! At this point all boats separated… They shouldn’t shithawk me anyways. Kidding! But anyhow, Stevie, Amelie and Ben went off to find a decent shoreline to get out, stretch and have lunch. Keith and Jeff with the biggest, fastest boat went off to play even farther away, while Chrish and I crossed some more big water to arrive at a decent speck spot… but no one told the specks to meet us there.

Dammit we tried aplenty. New water and old nothing was going. Bumped into a hotstick fella I know on the lake and he was struggling too. Once Keith and Stevie’s boats got back, word was they’d caught nothing. We tried specks, lakers and pike and over the entire day Chrish reeled in just two snotters. Garbage fishing! Thinking we must have finally ruined the lake this time for sure!
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SUNRISE TO FISH FRY.

Whoa 6:38am again, weird, but this minute already in the boat!

So far, Chrish and I had been on the water for sixty hours this trip. Beast moders! And this morning was no different, we planned to giver the guts for glory all day because Mother Nature had plans to absolutely rip anus come tomorrow.

My boat mate came out firing on all cylinders. The wind pushing Bambalam around some, we were working a shoal and needed to move just right. A wee bit of guide and angler moment, with a wee bit of brag coming for the both of us I says to me mate, “go forth about twenty paces Sir Chrish.” “Now OK, very hard port! Anchor lock!” “Cast right there over yonder inside that current seam by the rock.”

Chrish casts in there just perfect eh! Right away hooks a horse of a speck that gallops off too. He’s got himself a real stallion on the other end that pulls his rod hard, stressing and testing both our nerves. But then its close, closer, and in the net. New best for Chrish, an absolute brute. A Warrior is Knighted!

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Chrish pulled Excalibur from the stone, dood really found his touch by now. End of the morning he popped three great specks and I got but one. (not bitter) After a quick mid morning breakfast we charged back out for more, Chrish again taking three and me another one. (and still not bitter) Eight specks so far, totally wicked!!!

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Seven lakers came next, one double header, on a real fast bunch of fish. It was pretty good going for a little but gradually dying off with the coming front and rising winds. Apologized to Chrish for taking a half hour time-out to eat again… just can’t help it, friggin’ bear if I don’t. Three meals a day, raised that way, and trying to eat healthy to balance out the heavier doses of evening spirits. But, it wasn’t like my man didn’t enjoy the chowders, chili and stews as well. And besides, he was having a really good day so far.

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Later that afternoon we returned to a pike area we’d left alone for at least a week. Pike just hadn’t been fishing all that well, and that’s the thing about it, usually it is one or two fish species out of three that make a trip. Rare that all are real hot at once. Could have been too that the days of old were done and gone and the fishery was all but in ruins now? Just a question…

Chrish God help me could have 10,000 casted over 25 football fields of spindly sparse and scattered cabbage beds with a ten pound bowling ball but I was like, the fuck we are doing ANYTHING like that at all! Love his give’r, love it as long as it isn’t paining me to keep up. And it was this afternoon. We did fish pike a couple hours though and yeah I had to break some. The steam was running dry in this guy.

There is a lot to prepping before a trip like this, driving 18 hours one way, camping and fishing and boating and cooking and doing lotsa shit over a week. The days are full for me and the nights not always restful either. But I’ll quit making excuses for not being quite as spry a guy as I used to be. After the timeout though, I rose up off me arse and showed Chrish the Warrior that the Wizard can still cast a spell sometimes.

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6:38pm we returned to camp. A solid ten hour day effort and my duties weren’t done. Time to clean fish and make a big meal for the crew. Stevie, Am and Ben were all back about the same time as well. They had a great day fishing specks, Ben getting his first and Amelie some overdue fish. If you read the previous Nip story written this year, you might remember Am had to stay behind and miss out. Well she was back!

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Cleaning a laker and speck by the waterside Amelie came down to keep me company. As I said, it was a day that really wore me out, I felt sorta at odds and cranky too for holding Chrish back some with the pike, but tired at the time I knew there was still plenty more for me to do in the day. Told Amelie what I have been telling myself more and more lately, that I’m feeling older and more worn out. Fiery reds are giving way to ash greys and whites with the passing days. “Chrish is a beast,” I says to Am. “Hard to keep going for him.” But that’s when Amelie softly replied back, “No. No I think you’re the beast. You never stop.” I love her for saying that!

It was a very big and delicious meal and exhausted at the fire my eyelids were melting closed. The wind had died with the sunset, the lake laid rest to a perfect glass calm, trees went silent, and all noticed for a short time how eerie this all felt. And then, at shortly after ten, a little whisp of bone chilling air found some skin under my collar. In the distance a light rumble began growing louder, closer. The lakes shoreline began to stir then boil. Louder, closer still, a humbuzzing force pushing against the earth’s rotation. Nervously and within only minutes, every one of us saying our goodnights.
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ON THE ROPES.

Nipigon ruined me overnight.

Barely any sleep, through all hours the high winds and crashing waves had me up and outside to check on Bambalam and Dory too.

The waves were finding their way around shoreline corners, lifting and jerking both Lunds. My bow tied off and two lines to the stern, several times I jumped aboard to re-tighten and stand there worrying. Ear to the floor of the boat, the stones and sand beneath could be heard rubbing and scratching at bottom. Would I have any paint left by morning? Would the rivets be okay? Checking under the splashwell into the bilge pit, hardly a drop of water found was a good thing, even though the odd spritz of spray was coming over the transom. Didn’t care much at all for how the waves wanted to buck the boat forward into the shore, concerning that the bow could go too far and start smacking the sandy ledge.

Stevie’s boat fared worse. His lighter tie lines were stretched loose and the bow clip just completely broke off. His boat was bucking into the shoreline, the nose plowing dirt while partly catching under the root of a tree just above his Minnkota. He was scraping soil, shoveling it in fact right into his boat. The bracing port side was rubbing against tree branches. Had to get the feet wet to attach his bow line, slide down inbetween shore, trees and a bobbing Dory to twice in the night reconnect and hope the wind and waves didn’t get worse.

Around camp I considered trying to move the boat to a more tucked in and out of the way spot. There was no way of knowing if it could get nastier this night. The blowing wind was coming from a direction that could really raise the lake up and yet still, it could switch even a few more degrees east and turn the rest of the night into a total rocky horror show. Hadn’t been in for as bumpy a night ever before but remember friends once suffered the perfect storm at its worst. Needed to be on watch for that! And so while others slept soundly I stayed awake listening to the wind, the waves and boat. Nowhere out on Nipigon are you ever 100% safe.

The others stirred after sunrise and poking the head from the tent I reported on the nights events. Think we may have had a quick breakfast before exhausted I dove back into the sleeping bag until waking at 1:00pm.

Mid afternoon the lake settled down and all in camp were ready to get out and fish. It was our final day and we chose specks in one direction, Stevie and famjam in another. Over the last five hours of the trip both boats did quite well. Chrish and I each went 3 for 5, him boating a nice one after I sadly lost an absolute brute that jumped a couple feet out of the water to spit the hook. It’s quite rare specks jump and that one shot for the stars. The gang fishing out of Dory were catching good numbers too, and some large ones.

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But it was young Ben who lit up the world on this day reeling in his new personal best and absolute monster speckled trout. One of the most girthy fish to be had, Stevie’s young lad probably doesn’t realize how high he set the bar for himself. It’ll be a hard one to ever beat again on this totally ruined fishery.

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Keith and his good friend Kevin joined us at the campfire that evening. Really, again, just two of the best! I may have been finishing up a bottle of MacCallan, Aberlour, or was it the Carribean casked GlenLivet? Whatever it was, Kevin trumped it with an unopened bottle of Oban, an absolute old favorite of mine back when the price of both fuel and scotch was lower. Kevin stole my heart right then with his whiskey offerings.

The northern lights came up, the campfire blazed tall and the energy was perfect for the finish. I can never personally get enough of everything that Nipigon gives me in my fishing life. It is an all encompassing, inspiring, challenging yet also relaxing and rejunvenating fishing experience. Chrish and I would ride home, yammering on again for most of the long drive. He’d later post some pictures and write on his FaceCrack… “Absolutely spoiled rotten! An invite from Bunk to camp up north and fish ten days (not Muskies) was something I’ll never forget. From the road trip up to the road trip back! Three hot meals a day, camp fires, fishing and great company…” He went on further and it was all kind of him.

Chrish took new bests for all three species and we reeled in some giants together. We popped 53 lakers, 39 specks and some pike. And young Ben caught the biggest speck of the trip and of his life, putting mile wide smiles on the faces of everyone there, especially his parents.

Our campfires burned toasty and bright, the northern lights came out some nights. The blowing winds gave an aweful fright but come trips end, did the fish ever bite! Hey! We were all spoiled rotten on a ruined fishery, a place that keeps getting better and better, truly ruining us.

Fish On!
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Bunk.
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