On the actual day autumn arrived I was at home cleaning out the boat and sorting fishing gear after a long tour west for trout. The pike, laker and speckie boxes got set aside for other tackle that would begin my bass, walleye and muskie season. Planning ahead for Quinte comes easy, as does suiting up for home lake smallies. In preparation for muskies though, I got on the phone with a buddy to see what he thought of spending some time down on Lake St. Clair this year. It was an overdue chat, and he certainly didn’t beat around the bush with one point. “Dood, I’m 100% game for that, BUT you really should be fishing some great muskie waters close to your home!”
After moving back to the south in 2009 I had tried now and again for local muskies. First the Ottawa River in 09, then the Madawaska come 10, then 2011 fishing the more kind Rideau… and so with some effort I managed a measly four skis and several more for friends aboard the Lund. Last year instead of home, I took a trek down to LSC for a first crack at that plentiful muskie factory, and after a few days there built a little more confidence with muskie fishing by quickly tripling up on lifetime numbers. Spending three full days there with my buddy Andy, proved to be quite insightful as well. Many more years of muskie fishing under his belt, he talked a blue-streak about everything related to these big toothy fish. Muskie are an intriguing beast for sure, and many who love ’em are kinda nuts about them I have quickly learned.
This 2013 “the bug” had bit a little deeper in me though, and after picking up a few new lures I wanted to get out for muskie maybe as much as I had ever desired to. One day, midweek, I asked my buddy Len if he would be interested in trying the St. Lawrence. Turned out he had never fished it either, but was totally on board for giving it a shot.
Around noon Thursday we launched under bluebird skies. Len armed with crates of gear I kinda-sorta felt shy with my Home Depot bucket of lures, but after having backed the ball up to the hitch with absolute perfection earlier that morning, I had some other swag going on.
Over our first hour and a half we spent a fair bit of time clearing baits and lines. Wanting to fish structure and weed-edges I often power-drove our lures into that stuff like we were rushed excavators working a construction site. For a short period clouds rolled in, and the high of 21C surely didn’t feel it at all once the ceiling greyed. Come 1:55pm we had just finished dredging a channel through some shallow weeds and cleaning ourselves up when I cast the lure into the water again. Driving off the edge of that weedbed and over a drop into deep water, the reel suddenly began clicking. A muskie had taken the bait and I knew it when the line took a couple hard pulls against a two-handed drag. Into neutral, Len asked if I was snagged up but knowing better I answered no, while popping the rod from a Salty.
A few hard tugs and shakes was about it really. The heavy drag and boat speed had pretty well beaten the fish into quick submission before I got to it. Surfacing a good distance behind the boat, I announced to Len it was a big fish and knew full well it was my best by a long shot. The knees admittedly did weaken just then too, as a nervous excitement began to build within. Len probably remembers me praying to the fish God’s at this point.
It was a slow winch in with a still rather tight drag, loosened up only a little. The fish turned a couple times and did make some small efforts to kick away or thrash, but as it came closer we both saw that the two trebles on the lure were inside the fishes mouth. On the left back-side of it’s head too was a lamprey attached for a free feed and ride. Nearing the net Len became rather amped up as well, and he proclaimed that this muskie for sure is the biggest he had ever seen.
Scooping the fish into the net it did try to buckle at the rim and escape. Len thankfully did a great job making sure it stayed in though, and as it settled back into the mesh with a couple strong head-shakes, the lure caught in the netting, shook those two hooks and came completely free. That couldn’t have gone any better because it saved all time and chance for harm. While Len held the net with the fish in water and removed the lamprey with his pliers, I cleared off the casting deck and retrieved the camera and measuring tape. Taking the net from Len and swinging it around from stern to bow, he pulled out his own camera and measuring tape as well. And we got to it…
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Having handled a tonne of big pike in the past years this muskie was certainly that. It had a weight to lift which instantly strained, but it was made quite worse because of excessive slime and its own slobby sleekness. Holding it up, holding it out from me, keeping the fishes belly supported and locking my left arm with it’s head close was an isometric challenge which burned pretty good… I liked and hated it at the same time, and somewhat failed to really stretch out for any EAP.
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Len readied his tape for a length before I even had the fish laid on the mat. When he announced 56-inches I looked over and mentally vomited in my mouth a little once witnessing the same. With my measuring tape I was going for the girth. It was shocking, couldn’t even trust what I was seeing. I started talking fast, the throat dried quick, and adrenaline shot right up through the roof like it had with only a few other best fish before this one’s time. More photos were needed immediately I thought, and that fish back quick to the net for a breath. Len had been shooting with two cameras simultaneously, and his set to “burst.” I picked her heavy arse up one more time and stressed smiles through the best grab-and-grin session possible…
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The fish went back to the net for a rest. Other than a few lamprey marks and possibly a little bending of the spine, she was in perfect shape. For the photos and measurements she was well behaved, other than a kick which slapped the brim of Len’s hat leaving a blood stain. At rest she was upright, moving, not mottled in the least and breathing well.
Come time to release we retrieved her from the net and for seconds set her back down one more time for I was still in disbelief of the length. It was one of those few rarer moments when you kinda lose your head a little, because you want time to go so fast and smooth for the fish, yet never actually end for yourself. And because of it’s size too, and knowing that it may be the best I ever catch, before setting her free I measured again. She was handled with care from us both, and given ample breathing time in the net, trust in that.
Over the gunnel into 60+C waters it didn’t take the big girl but ten to fifteen seconds to firm up and try for a kick. I held on a good two minutes though, as she made a few more attempts to leave. Once my hand released, she moved out alongside the boat and remained on the surface maybe a half minute. Two or three times she kicked but simply splashed water behind her on the surface. Cruising with the boat up beside, there was a final and easy one, two, three-kick and she was gone out of sight, into the deep, not to be seen again.
Journal – September 26, 2013. Lifetime Muskie Day #31. Muskie #15… At 1:55pm with Len aboard the Lund to explore new waters for us both, my drag suddenly clicked. Sometime later, after screaming, laughing, crying, shaking and high-fivin’, I sat breathless and contemplated if I would become seriously hooked on muskie fishing, or just be done with it forever…
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Never Done!!!
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Thanks Len for being so great and efficient through everything during this incredible day… and thanks big time to the Fish Gods.
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Bunk.