Carrie and I spent a few hours on the east side in the late afternoon / early evening. On our way down to the south Grand Island bridge, just as I was placing my rod in a holder, my line out alarm started singing. "Big fish", I announced. As Carrie was clearing lines, I changed my assessment of what was connected to my Toothy to, "I think it's a big fish". As the fish surfaced, I realized I had snagged an upper thirties in the back. Oh, joy. That makes two snagged on the year for me. I would have been deadly at Burt Dam back in the day. One quick flick of the wrist with the needle nose and the fish darted away with me offering a few apologies. We trolled down to the power lines and back. I managed to land two small fish, five minutes apart in UN4 and lose another an hour later. All three fish hit a Niagara walleye 10" jointed Believer. I guess we should have went west... Oh, well. It was nice to be out there.
i am unfortunately very familiar with the "everything almost always happens for a reason" moment. Monsters coming unhooked is my specialty this season.
sounds like the 46 i snagged in the forehead(the night carl got his 48).
coming out of your box those baits have a 25% premium at least.
At least your fish was hooked in the mouth! I bet when the lure pulled free you checked your hooks and sharpened them even though they were like razor blades. Then you tightened your drag a little, sat down and trolled while wondering if you did anything wrong during the fight, all the while your stomach was souring and you were weaving a web of profanities. At some point you decided to focus on the task at hand, but that feeling of loss and a missed opportunity crept back into your thoughts and you let out a few more off-color remarks or precise screams while bending at the waist like someone just punched you in the stomach. At least that's what I do when I dump a pig... You know how this progresses, that sick feeling you have will linger until you pop another monster, and even then you'll wonder how big the one that got away was.
I always want to see what's connected to my lure, but sometimes it's better not to. The absolute beast I lost in the lake so many years ago, just found it's way back into my stomach typing this...