The fishing seemed a bit of a tricky run this spring with all that’s been going on. Returning from the arctic after spending time in Qikitaarjuaq, a strong urge had taken hold to just get outdoors, on the water and start making a fresh season happen. While in the frozen north, friends of mine at home had begun plying the softwater soon after ice out. A very warm April, favorites of mine like crappies, lakers and even gar had started to bite, holding back through that month in wait wasn’t overly healthy. The only solace I found was in my work and, also in some planning ahead. As best possible, guessing and weighing what “might” be do-able within another lockdown through May, and gauging things with my wife and others, our fully vaccinated family did just move forward with some normalcy and tentative optimism.

Some pics from Qik!

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First outing was and usually is for crappies. Missing the Lake Ontario laker bite “pre midge” hatch, there is no way in Hell I’ll bother trolling through the hordes of Great Lake micro bugs come May so, closer to home I tested the motor a short time then spent a few hours watching a float drop. Actually, that first day crappie fishing was insane. For an hour I tried a bunch of plastics and couldn’t get one bite at all. When I finally did find what worked, a single lily pad and a ten foot diameter around it turned responsible for like 50-60 craps in two hours, some of those 13 inchers and nothing went home under 11. It was only the beginning, because a couple more times out was all the family needed for it’s annual crappie feast treats. Ended up with four dinners for the household and loved every scrumptious minute of it. Leah is an absolute slayer of big perch, gills and crappies, enjoying her one day out too. No fish beats crappies for the table!!

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2021 had so far been off the charts warm. In the early winter I was fortunate enough to visit the top of the world, traveling to Grise Fiord, Nunavut. This is North America’s most northerly community where 130 permanent inhabitants spend the coldest days and longest nights imaginable. The sun sets October 31st and does not rise again until mid February. One hundred calendar days without the solar shine leaves little light and warmth but this year, while I was there, daytime highs were in the low teens during periods when the normal average would be -27C. Grise Fiord was tropical, and it’s also a special place with a uniquely sad history yet it’s people are truly wonderful. Amazing work visit with some great site seeing as well.

Some pics from Grise!

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A video from Grise Fiord. Hiking about and trying to summit “The Greenlander.”

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A GRISE FIORD LOOKABOUT
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After all this arctic air exposure January through May it could be said I was ready for some heat… but May wasn’t about that! No, no, it would seem the northwinds followed me home, and as it would turn out the month’s climate was ridiculously indecisive and generally cool except for a short heat wave near it’s calendar end.

This meant lake and river water temps were slow to climb. Two things happened as a result…

1. More time was spent in the garage before the mosquitoes arrived, creating!

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The enjoyment with lure making and tinkering never ends. Double 10’s, marabou and bucktail jigs, spinnerbaits big and small, and that Bunk Board thing of beauty that cost me $26 instead of $100+ for some other biz to advertise with my fish on, I’m still not done fiddling around cause this years Mooskiebou, Mooskiebuck, Mooskieflash or whatever has yet to even begin.

2. Gar started off stupid weird. Never before had I taken three swings with three misses to start any season. The water temps just wouldn’t rise. Most places there weren’t any gar to be found except down deep on my sonar and side scan. On the third approach to ‘em I landed myself right back at home within a couple hours after taking my lower back out during the launch. Getting old sucks! A good Nurse in the house helped me recover to function fast, but it was a week in full that my lumbar lingered on with aches and pains. Couple outings later I just fell right out of the boat into the river, total gonger!

But all these false starts must have been leading up to this one day. Christine and I have fished for years together, usually a few times a season, Bren and I love her. Not only that, she can fish with the best of ‘em! No stranger to gar either, Chris has chased them in a number of places on the river, and she may have more spots under her cap than I do.

The morning started slow but as the sun shone and the waters warmed there was hope. I kept telling Christine; while more-or-less convincing myself too, that it was going to get better and better… and it did! By the afternoon we’d both popped a few fish to get the juices flowing and so as it often becomes in my boat, after we graduate KinderGARten with a mid to high 40-incher, we then turn to hunting some 50’s. If successful with that, I always prefer we just carry on casting for any true giants and leave all else the Hell alone!

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Before or after this decent fifty of mine I spotted a giant and long bombed on it. The gar snapped at that first offer and was on for a second or two before raising it’s head from water and shaking free. Seemingly unscathed, not overly spooked or bothered, the gar was turned away from shore and it simply sauntered out to the depths at a walking pace. Christine and I swooped in behind, stalking from a short distance back where we could take sniper shots past it’s nose. Momentarily holding off, Chris got in a few good rounds free of charge before I opened fire again. It was anybody’s gar at this point “if” it chose to bite… AND IT DID! Christine hooked up with a perfect cast and the fight was on. When she got it to the boat finally I knew she’d just crushed her previous personal best of 52 inches. I guessed it right then at 53 to 54 but even if this fish wasn’t quite that long, it was a very special specimen for some above average girth. A real slob of a gar. Measuring we were 1/4 to 1/8 inch shy of 54 but FFS… it’s a 54″. On the scale it hit 20.25 pounds, tying the second biggest fish I’ve ever weighed in my boat. Christine’s gar is just 1-pound shy of today’s Canadian record but almost certainly, I would have to believe that it may well be the biggest gar ever caught by any female angler in this country. To Christine though that likely means shit! She’s been besting men and plenty anglers time-and-time again throughout her life. I guess it’s cliche, but that moment in the boat with her is one we will never forget. It’s the best fish we have ever caught together, and the best gar she has prized for herself. Some big hugs and high fives, I’m going to miss her for a few years now that she’s leaving the valley. What a gar, what a girl, what a day.

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After that high I got a little bit melancholy. Kind of a ho-hum and now what? In my head I pretty much conceded defeat for the season. Yes, yeah… you see, you “can” best a 54-inch gar with a 55 or even a 56 “some” seasons but, it’s still a long shot. Only in three of my last twelve years fishing gar have I done this, so what, that’s 25% odds in favor perhaps..? A 54-incher by all account holds greater chance of being that top fish rather than finding and catching one of those bigger, more rare oddities. Interestingly though, the Canadian record gar by weight is actually just a 51-inch fish which obviously must be some otherworldly kinda thick. And, 53 and 54-inchers in my opinion often seem to be the gar that are actually at their peaks for length and girth, “in these parts.” The 55, 55.5’s and 56 that have otherwise been caught and calculated in my boat, are fish that had a leaner length……. Soooo, I guess it’s fair to say that the right one still could exist out there..? Over the years there are 4 or 5 which have ghosted me during the hunt and left me haunted still today. It’s probably why I keep hunting..? Rarely do I ever bother even casting at anything I believe less than a 50-incher. This ends up with me catching a lot of 49’s. But then there are those days when I get a 50, 51, 52 early, and afterwards find that it’s time wasted to chase or cast at other 50’s the same. So what could I do this season to keep my gar mojo flowing, once feeling like the season had already climaxed? Well, see other’s get off on ‘em instead!

Lenny and I were a billion years overdue to do this. It was a solid outing and he had some cracks at a few big fish that just shook him to get free. For us it was another one of those days you had to buy your time and cash out late, the bite was slow to pick up again. He had some photo fish, this one his best. And now, I don’t normally take photos of myself with fish less than 50 inches, but this 49 below comes with a message…

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Look closer and see that the fin is gone.

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This is what nets do to gar. Doesn’t matter the hoop, it’s mesh or your opinions, nets damage these fish, I’ve said it before and will say it again. This year I had to net Christine’s giant because it was barely hooked, I keep the net there for those “just in case” or “really important we get this fish” in the boat! If it’s a 50, 51, 52, 53, or even some normal girth 54 for myself I won’t bother netting those, and if they come off it’s not like I haven’t boated 130 of them some other time anyways. Christine’s fish mottled quick at the tail with the extra stress and extra handling of it. Gar snouts are narrow with teeth that protrude outward, outside of the mouth. They get caught up easily, sometimes the narrow heads to the gills, and often the hook does too. But that’s not the worst part. Their fins are like leaves on a rubber tree plant. They’re weak, fragile, they just snap right off, or split in places and chunks fall off. Over the years from dumbass netjobs I’m seeing too many big fish injuries. Do yourself and the fish a favor, man up, put on a cloth glove, double it if you have too and when the fish comes to the boat, reach down quick, grab it’s snout and take full care and control. Doing it this way nearly ten years there’s few fish that have been missed and never a hook in the hand. The snout leaves plenty room for grabbing and a cloth glove with good grip is all you need.

Back to the regularly scheduled programming.

I call my buddy Chrish a “Warrior.” Tells me he’s fished gar for years although in the grand scheme he’s in a second or maybe third “coming of age” season I feel, which after this one now includes a full on beast mode. His musky fishing is off the charts good, he’s got the mindset of a big game hunter, I’ve told him he’s a “cerebral” angler, believing it’s his intellect and experience that make it happen for him. But I have to digress after getting to know him more, there is certainly an underlying emotive that feeds his fishy needs too, it’s called passion, and he overflows with it. I’ll die trying to keep up with this younger machine, this “warrior.” It all makes him quite exciting to spend a day with because of his energy and abilities, so we got out there for some days of gar fishing this season and did alright. Happy to be in his corner.

Next fish below is the same fin-less one that was caught with Lenny. And look, no worse for wear and still has the same number of fins too.

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Not sure if it’ll be another year, two or three before Chrish is crushing gar beyond what anyone else is but rest assured, he will do so. Luckily some very fortunate few like myself have had the past decade and more to enjoy some glory days. I say this because the gar are absolutely on to us anglers now and anytime you add another warrior to the battle that comes with more casualties. Looking back at past spring reports here on the site, there are times that “spooky” fish or “spent” fish and bays have been mentioned. Today there are more people after them, more who know how to catch them right and so, this year many of the big gar girls once the slightest bit nervous were racing away sooner and even faster than ever, sometimes from quite afar while the boat approached. More traffic in general too means more trickiness with the fish and planning, it’s all evolving, my years with it are likely numbered anyways, but guess I’ll see what next season brings. This one however, started weird and remained a head scratcher. The two flood years just passed were lower 50-incher years and this years extreme drought was better overall… that said, half my outings were gongers and skunks.

Snuck two final days out solo hunting to try and pop a tankeroo. Nothing insanely big but these are all 50’s and over, the biggest a 53.5-incher. Lowest water levels I can remember and absolutely no reprieve from dams opening up, gar spots were high and dry quick and weed growth choked out a lot of space as well. As I knew it would be, Christine’s fish was the one for 2021 and that’s all fine and perfect by me, again an amazing time for us both. There were a couple chances at fish which could have rivaled that 54 size but they got the jump and booked it. There was nothing I crossed paths with this season that I could say with 100% certainty would have ruled over her Queen.

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Got in three laker outings. Nothing to write home about but had fun getting jiggy with it! Lakers with pike, specks and maybe some eyes are all up next anyways.

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Splake… my final frontier.

This could get long winded but it won’t. Basically, if I was to say I have an Achilles heel in fishing it would be the splake. Confidently I could go about catching anything local, really, even fish like bass or carp that I don’t target much but, if doing so will make it work out in quick time. But “BIG” splake and even small ones just kill me, despite having once iced a fish at ten pounds and a few other good ones too. So… this spring rather than take the usual one or two kicks at the can I set out a half dozen times to really try and figure some shit out. On the water I did cast, drop, troll and inspect this, that and every other thing. Fueled by the splake master, one Mr. Mercer who every season has the big splake dialed in, I kept asking myself over-and-over “what would Mercer do?” What do I know about this man and his fishing style, and how he would have refined his game to win? After awhile I thought… I know nothing. It was by fluke I popped a first season splake, then on a next outing got another in a weird way too. So I thought about those hook-ups, and everything I was repeatedly doing wrong, the things that hadn’t worked, what I was seeing each time out with the fishes behavior and, one little pattern that had emerged from taking the few extra outings this season. Finally I came back one day with a plan to change it all up and it worked! 5 for 6 caught with a 29-incher the biggest. Came back the next day going 3 for 3 with two more fat respectables. Returned on a third day, bit slower at 2 for 3 losing a ripper. 10 for 12 on splake for me feels a monumental success. Three days in a row hooking up plus two more fish on some previous outings I learned some things. Not in ten years of trying had I caught more than a couple on open water. These fish really did it for me this spring. Splake are surely something unique unto themselves.

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And that’s the wrap on spring 2021. A few friends climbed aboard during gar season and that was much needed. After spending most of November into May in arctic isolation, now fully vaccinated, back at home not bothering with folks and just fishing, I took a few liberties. Soon it’ll be back into quarantine for more work, but first a family camping trip then maybe if lucky some arctic char somewheres on contract north there. Before long it’ll be full on again, for fishing and hopefully for all of us in our regular lives.

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Stay healthy, keep livin’ life!

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