BUCKLE UP KESAGAMI.

December is unsafe while January and February are just oftentimes too darned cold. That’s why up here the only winter month I really live for is March.

After a sleepless night, Bren and I met up with our friend Francis for 7:45am on Sunday morning. From Moose Factory we drove over to Moosonee and parked the truck on the river runway at the bottom of the hill in Tozerville. John was quick to come out and say good morning and begin brushing a little frost off the Cessna while we sipped our hot coffees and loaded our gear into the plane. By 8:20 we were off and soaring southbound about 1000 feet above the James Bay muskeg, excited to fish on Kesagami.

Mainly cloudy, -16C with a southwest wind gusting to about 40km/hr when we touched down on the lake it was a tad bit cool. We got our gear loaded onto our little sled and made a quick hike over to my preferred fishing area. Francis brought an 8 inch Jiffy auger and I had a 10″, so the plan was he drill the holes for walleye and I drill outside of those for pike. We were quick to find that the ice was quite thick in the 40-42 inch range. Francis using the auger extension first finished up the eye holes while I pre-drilled as deep as I could for the pike. Once I was able to finish mine I took some time to meticulously setup my two “Pikeslayerinators” (#1 and 007) and one other rod as well. The whole process from plane ride to all setup and me jiggin’ eyes took about two hours.

While I was finishing the work Francis and Bren were already fishing. They likely had about an hours head start on me but had not put a single fish on the ice in that time. From where I was off in the distance I yelled over a few times for a report but it was not at all seeming too good. When I finally went over to them Francis said he had a large pike snap him off and they were still fish-less. I asked Bren if I could see her rod and in about ten seconds missed a fish, then in 20 seconds or so had one on the ice. Bren was over-jigging, the bite was a little lighter than usual, and the rod she had wasn’t quick enough for her I think. But after that, she still went a couple more hours without a fish while Francis and I started catching some good size eyes in about the 14-19″ range. Bren finally asked for a different rod and it was game time for her too.

Then a bell goes off in the distance!

All pike setups are about fifty to sixty yards away. One northeast, one way east, and the other southeast. It was PikeSlayerinator#1 off to the S.E. The tip was bouncing too much for what would likely be a big pike, but, being the first alarm I still sprinted like a cheetah, with the grace of a maybe an injured wildebeast.

Gott there, grab the line, realize the wind in about half an hour has blown about a foot of thick slush into the hole, but yet I still feel the weight of a solid fish. Hand-lining the freak it takes only seconds to realize this isn’t the fight of a pike, instead I am digging out the slush with my hand to get at the head of a big walleye. When I finally get under the gill plate, stupid but safely I manage to remove the snowball from inside the fishes mouth, then hoist it up into atmosphere as Bren snaps pictures.


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At about this time, I’m lost in another world…


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… kinda stunned!


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This fat girl ends up being my personal best walleye for weight at 8.5 lbs. One pound heavier than my PB for length, yet a half inch shorter at 28.5 inches. On the lake I didn’t much care about that, what I was most happy with was that it was only still morning yet and only getting started.

Next four hours or so was business as usual. Many times the “Slayerinators” rang out for me to come unhook some hungry eyes and a few snot rockets, and a big pike too that got the better of me. Dumb I had been to leave my gloves behind, I couldn’t put enough pressure on the braided line without it cutting into my hands when that pike ran, so it sadly escaped.

Back at the eye holes Francis was taking care of his family’s meals while Bren was all about providing for ours. I joined them off and on to jig eyes too, but the slush clearing and bells ringing were nearly a full time job in themselves.


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Around 3:30 Bren and decided on lunch. Having her there, happy, really excited to fish and not letting anything at all like the cold wind, slow start, or few fish bring her down, it truly made my day better. She broke out the Coleman stove and began heating up some pre-prepared homemade seafood chowder. I was trying to rig up a barrier to keep the wind from getting at the stove when Francis says, “Bunk! The rod out there is down.”

Pretty whipped at this point, I turn and look to the east setup. The rod isn’t right down, it’s about half ways down from what I can see of it in the distance, and it’s just kind of bobbing there. Figure it’s another walleye false alarm.

Walking over when I arrive I carefully pick the rod up off the stand and for the Hell of it drive a hookset into the suspected walleye.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!

Just one big reel peel to a sudden stop. Guess it’s go time!

The fish below after the initial big run came back to the hole in about the time it took Francis to walk out to me with the video camera at his eye so to capture the moment. Beneath the ice the pike didn’t want to turn too easy but on the third attempt it’s head peered out at me from through the slush. Francis says, “THAT’S HUGE!” And at first I didn’t really think so, but after bringing the head out a little more I realized it was a biggy. A big pike that I just turned up a forty inch deep hole from out of about one foot of water below. Quite a bend for a big fish.


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Finally into my arms I figured it might be my third biggest pike to date.


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The fish was a real pleasing feeling.

No worse for wear she kicked down the hole as soon as her head was back in the water. And so finally, Bren and I sat to rest for lunch.


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Day winding down some, off in the distance rings a ding a ling. Northeast better known as “PikeSlayerinator 007” (which had been rather quiet through the day), is finally getting some play in the final hours. With a new found energy from the chowder and big pike, I’m back to sprinting like a cheetah once more.

When I get to the hole there has to be 18 inches of snow and thick slush, and so again, I find myself hand-lining what feels to be another good walleye while trying to dig out the hole but with a scoop this time. And the effort all pays off too. Bren comes over to say that’s a nice big one and to assist with some pictures, and then this eye finds it’s way back to the water.


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5:30 we hear the plane off in the distance coming back for us. We could have stayed to about 6:45 to fish, but I was pretty much a right off by this point. Francis and Bren hadn’t wanted anything to do with their pike set-ups off in the distance, so I found myself spending much of the day running and working, all the while getting beat on by quite cold and gusty winds. Bren was tired too. She had caught 21 walleye. Total eyes for the day caught by all three was by best guesstimate 55 and six pike. Before getting on the plane Francis with the video camera running asks “any final comments on the days fishing Bunk?” My response, “I’d say we kicked Kesagami’s ass again this year.”

Flight home we all hit that brick wall, especially Bren.


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In fact, I had a very hard time walking and getting up the stairs to bed that night.

It was only the beginning though, and I can’t wait for Wednesday, when we do it all again.
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KESAGAMI ACCOMPLISHED..

So Jazman pm’d me last August to beg the question, “Bunk, you ice fishing Kesagami again this year? I don’t want to miss it this time.”

And it begins.

I tell Jaz to bring a buddy out of Ottawa and he’s quick to mention RJ. I hummed and hawed over it for about a second, then told Jaz I’d talk to RJ myself. Wasn’t long after and we were all on board, but with half a year still yet to wait.

The boys arrived in Moosonee Friday evening after the long train ride up on the Little Bear, and that was after having driven the Redbull redeye from midnight to 8am to arrive in Cochrane for the train’s departure at 10:30am. Long road for fish, when they arrived they didn’t seem too whipped at all, more like completely jacked for the fishing to come. Quick tour of Moose Factory and some surf and turf for dinner, RJ let it be known that it’s better up here than he expected, and on that we retired for the night.

Saturday morning weather is calling for SW winds 5km, mainly sunny and a high of 6C. Perrrrrfect. By 8:30am our pilot John has us in the air heading to fishing heaven.

Gentle touchdown on the lake we were quick to setup for pike then drill a few for eyes. Jazman takes no time, drops his line, counts to eleven seconds and ices himself his first plump and golden Kesagami eye.


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Jaz simply taking no prisoners, then shows us fellas about twenty minutes later that the lake has a few pike too, and so while jiggin’ eyes with the toughest little Rattlesnake he tags this 35-incher in the lip.


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Things go quiet awhile. The eyes just keep coming with reckless abandon and Jaz puts the biggest hurt on the populace icing one after another, and other than me tagging a 32″ snot rocket, the pike shut down until 2:30.

Then all Hell breaks loose.

My pike set-up gets slammed. I reach the rig, set the hook, feel an immense pull back and then nothing. Dammit!

Minutes later, RJ’s rod in the distance starts getting play, and from his butt on the ice the big fella’s up and ripping out there for it like a teenager. Jaz and I are quick to follow behind him.

At the hole, the hookset is followed by the screams of reel peel and so Jaz gets the camera rolling to capture it all on vid. We’re quick to understand this is a BIG pike. A big pike that didn’t want to come easy but, nearing eight minutes or so it did surrender to the big man… After some angler nervousness while I turned the head to lead the fish up the hole, it was all RJ then holding his first and personal best trophy pike.


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The action didn’t stop there though. RJ’s rig kept firing and a few fish were missed, then mine started going and I missed a few too. The walleye slowing we cut that out and got more lines down for pike, and before long my rod tip dropped into the hole and I was into a fish.


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After a special photo shoot and this pike going back to the swim, only a short time later PikeSlayerinator 007 ringalings off in the distance. Bolt of lightning I’m there and hand-lining another pike that’s locked right onto a Williams Whitefish. “Hammer of THOR!!!”


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Another one bites the dust.

Heading home that night John our pilot flies higher than usual so we can all have a great view of James Bay. In my opinion though, my angler guests were already flying high enough.
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Sunday rolled in cloudy, breezy, but with an expected high of 11C. Waking up stiff we three rode back over to Moosonee to meet our pilot Dexter for the new days trip in.

Not long until back on the ice, it was quickly apparent that RJ still had that horseshoe lodged firmly up his ass. A couple other planes around, I’m sure they heard the crack below the four feet of ice when RJ snapped another hook firmly into the maw of his first pike of the day. A healthy looking 38″ special.


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Not so quick to be left behind, PikeSlayerinator#1 lassoes a 38″er of my very own.


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Jazman a couple hours later, just disgusted by it all, having watched RJ lose fish after fish after fish, takes on a half bowl of my chowder and walks off to take a nap beside his tip-up. Out for about forty minutes laying in his floater suit in the slush, I look over at Jaz and then say to RJ, “his flag is up.” RJ’s response, “HEY JAZ! YOUR FLAG!!!” And so from a lying position we see Jaz raise his right arm and give us a thumbs up, then in some kinda sloth like motion rolls over to his belly, puts his hand on the tip-up, gets to his knees, grabs the line, and sets the hook. When RJ and I see him pull some line to the ice then suddenly see all that line get pulled back under by a fish, we get moving to his aid.

Finally and again, Jaz has a newer personal best pike.


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A lull in the pike action after Jaz’s fish and we fellas take to jiggin’ some eyes for awhile.


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But it turns out eyes aren’t the only thing around to be jigging. RJ hooks into a fish and remarks that he’s got one with a little pep. Surprised at the hole, he’s actually got his first ever whitey…… or blackie by the looks of it.


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I picked up a whitey just then too.


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Late afternoon RJ and Jaz may as well have just packed up and gone home. Taking the horseshoe for myself, it became the Moosebunk show. Over yonder PikeSlayerinator#1’s tip dropped like a stone and the bell called me over. Gripping the line I struck, and it was on. The boys arrived and I told them it was a heavy fish, and when it finally arrived at the holes bottom we were stuck in a stalemate. For a few minutes it seemed all I could do was just bump the pike’s head on the bottom of the ice to try and get it to move. Desperate for something to happen I let a little tension off the line and the fish sunk just enough for me to make a sharp short pull up and right. The fishes head was in, and came heavy as it was tugged up the 40″ deep hole.

OHHH Yeah… a new personal best of my own, aunt Girthy rolled into my arms for a slimy kiss.


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I told her to come and see me again next year when she’s a little bigger.

Just 10 minutes later I could have nearly had a bigger one on. The rod tip dropped on my other set-up and off running I picked it up, clutched the reel and drove a Williams home. A shocked pike just then about pulled me down the hole, and off in the distance that got RJ and Jaz running over.

A good battle and the final pike of the day was on the ice.


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The boys had their fun and it was my pleasure to host and guide them. Both took home several new personal best pike and even a whitey for RJ, it was another stellar Kesagami experience with no complaints come the end of our second day.

That would be it for fishing Kesagami. The warm weather was cause to flood the ice road and runway for the plane and so come Monday we all rested our tired bones, had a good meal of garlic butter pike and whitefish BBQ smoked on a cedar plank, while reliving what was an awesome time for us doods.


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Time flies by…
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KESAGAMI FINALE.

Had every intention when RJ and Jaz left of getting back to Kesagami for one last time with Bren. The warm weather that flooded the ice roads and runway, all froze up again when an early April cold snap and snow storm came through. Thursday rolled around and we had our window. With a voucher to fly one last time we took to the skies and headed back to heaven for some pike and eye fishing.

Plan was to get Bren into her first “real” pike on the ice.

Landing on the lake with all the recent snowfall I had no exact idea of where we had set-up in March. We wandered a little, but the snow was tiresome so thinking we were close we set-up.

Wind slowly built through the day as the sun eventually dipped behind the clouds for good. Temps were warm out of the gusts around zero, but the wind sure had a wee chill. The holes were filling with about 4-6 inches of slush every 15 minutes, and I got tired of making the long treks through the deep stuff to clear them.

Bren had been jiggin the one hole she just wouldn’t leave, and she was really putting the hurt on the walleye population.

It was around noon when she hooked into a little dreel peeler of a fish. Her eyes lit up with excitement. The drag on the little Mitchell 500 sang a few short sweet tunes while the fish tugged away on the 10lb Power Pro. Before long, she iced her new personal best pike, a 31 inch rocketus. Score 1 – 0


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It was but only ten minutes or so afterwards while jiggin eyes that I hooked into a tester of my own. Short battle and a 35 incher came to hand. Score 1 – 1.


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Things went a little weird after this. While off tending to the pike lines Bren ices a 35 inch pike of her own while jiggin eyes. PB #2. She affectionately calls it a teenager, as her 31 was the baby. She made no measurement but said it was the same as my fish.

Upon returning to her, she nails another one. I’m watching my woman in awe. She’s never caught a fish through the ice much bigger than a three or maybe four pound walleye, now she’s playing what is another big fish like a champ. Only coaching I gave was brief, when I just said, pull up with the rod then reel down on the fish when it’s not taking line. Be careful and slow when you think it’s close to the hole, and, don’t reel against the drag. She listened well, but in all honesty didn’t really have too, she’s seen bigger fish played before. After a good long struggle she manages to pull this 36 incher up a 36 inch deep hole, and, it’s barely pegged on her favorite little Pixie spoon.


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See what I mean. She’s a champ. Up comes PB #3.


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After a quick second lesson of grip tight, don’t let go if it tries to jerk free, watch the gills… yada yada… a little tentative Bren get’s right in there.


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After this biggun she wasn’t even close to done. Same hole, back to jiggin, Bren ices her new personal best walleye; PB #4. A testy 22.5 incher…..


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….only to minutes later lock into battle with another big pike on her jiggin rod. The pike tussles but Bren over muscles, and stone to forehead a Goliath falls. Bren ices another new personal best (PB #5) a healthy looking 37 incher.

By this time I’m racking my brain trying to understand it all. It’s about 3pm and all the pike set-ups haven’t even had a nudge. Bren’s been pounding them from a hole only twenty feet from mine and her numbers on both the pike and eyes are sky rocketing. I took a walk to try and figure out where the heck we were set-up. The shades of the snow now much different from morning, revealed were the telling signs of where feet once walked below. I found our old tracks and pathways below the foot of cover, then retraced the trails.

As it turned out, we were too far north from my previous visits. In fact, my most southern pike set-up was about 30 feet off from my most northern set-up on the previous visits. We were also a little too shallow, with the exception of our eye holes and our southern most pike set-up. The way things were now I was able to imagine how the channel ran through that kilometer stretch. I wished I had brought the GPS.

While gone Bren iced another “teenage” 35 inch pike. I settled to cook some chowdah on the camp stove when again, the woman pegs another line tugger. But this time, it’s an eye. And a good one.


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Personal best #6 (#2 for eyes) for the day, Bren decides she’s letting this 24.5 inch healthy gold bar go after a pic with her other biggun from earlier. Proud of her now.

After lunch I take a seat in the chair and pick up a few eyes and one snot rocket of my own. Bren is doubling up on me from her own hole. I catch myself often just watching her technique, a technique that isn’t even really a technique. Drop it down, hold the rod, jiggle once, then let the wind push you slightly and often off balance so the tip moves by accident, and “POP” another fish. For the life of me, I couldn’t duplicate it’s simplicity and effectiveness.

Finally, 4pm and Bren’s southern pike rig drops the rod tip. She teases and says “you go, you haven’t caught many.”

And so off running I get to the set-up, peg a fish… or so I thought, little reel peel a few times, and it’s gone. Put the set-up back, action again, leave it a good while to take the bait, pick up the rod… it’s gone. Nothing after that.

Over on PikeSlayerinator#1 about twenty minutes later, after just cleaning out the hole and resetting the meat there’s some play. Wait…. wait…. hit…. play, play, nibble, nibble…. good solid tug at the meat by the fish…. tip holds down…. grab the line…. DRIVE IT…. reel peel…. gone.

Defeated I return to Bren. Racking my brain again… cursing the proven lousy hook percentage of quick-strikes and wishing I had gone old school. To add salt to the wound, Bren’s into another solid chunky monkey.

No question, good long fight with some big runs and a couple worrisome headshakes, Bren then at the hole turns it up with ease.


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Personal best #7. A chunky, really battle scarred, big momma 38 incher at 18lbs is in my baby’s arms. Bren says, “I like catching the big ones!”


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…. And so, exasperated, awestruck and happy as a pig in poop, to show me that the previous five personal best pike weren’t flukes, Bren about half an hour later locks into another Kesagami giant.

Battle details aside, the seasoned pro plays another fish perfectly.


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Again, like all others before it, it’s barely hooked. She has no leader. All fish were taken on a 1 1/2 inch Pixie on the tried, tested and true 10lb Power Pro. Unfrickinbelievable, Bren is 9 for 9 on pike for the day.


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Personal best for my girl (PB#6 for pike, #8 for the day) a 39 incher!


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Did she need my help, I guess not. Really strange to see all her fish come in succession like that.

Nearing time to go home, off on Bren’s southern pike rod set-up the tip drops like an anvil from the sky. Bren gives the nod and I’m gone.

At the hole the reel’s screaming. Pick it up once it stops, feel some weight, tighten the drag and hammer it home. One fish pee’d off it heads for the hills with a lightening fast first run, but after that, puts on it’s boxing gloves for a good few rounds. I knew it was a solid fish, not a best though. Finally up he came.

We completed the run in inches from 35, 36, 37, 38, 39 and then the topper, a good shouldered, big headed, yet anorexic 40.

What a day.


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That put the end 2007’s ice fishing. Was amazing what Bren pulled off in the final hours, going 9 for 9 on the pike and getting 25 walleye as well. Results for me were dismal by comparison but over the four trips sure averaged out beautifully. The chance to treat some southern friends, Brenda, and enjoy all that Kesagami has to offer sure won’t ever be forgotten.
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Bunk.
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