Preachy Fishing Diatribe

[Scott McKee]

I don’t know where to start with this fishing report.  This has been strange year for me on the water.  My defibrillator fired, I was hooked badly in the palm and I’m catching fish fairly consistently (the strangest of the three).  I thought I was done with the weirdness.  What I want everyone who reads this to remember has nothing to do with fishing success.  It has everything to do with safety.  I was lucky tonight.  Joe Wilczewski was lucky tonight.  I was really lucky to have Joe on board.

Let me backtrack a little.  Joe and I had a bit (eleven years) of a curse fishing together on my boat.  On Joe’s boat at least one of us usually catches a musky.  Last year we caught three together on the Sea Nymph.  On my Lund we have never caught a musky together ever, until tonight.

Joe had three hours left in his Monthly Tournament time and jumped on board with me after I finished bass fishing with my brother Bruce and our Buddy Tim.  I don’t think Joe was too confident.  I mean how long did it take for the Red Sox to break their curse?  I was hell bent on getting Joe a musky for the Monthly and we started with my confidence technique, shallow water trolling.  No dice in UN2 and 13 shallow.

Once the sun had set we went deeper.   We messed around in front of Miller Creek Marina for awhile and then I asked him seventeen or twenty-five?  To your average person seventeen or twenty-five doesn’t mean much spoken as such, but Joe knew instantly what I was asking.  Seventeen was his answer.  We headed upstream in seventeen feet of water just off the weed edge in UN13 along the Canadian shoreline.  At 8:30, about half way to UN2, as Joe was continuously pumping his 10” straight Believer in night shiner that was back sixty-nine feet, he had a fish on.  After a nice fight complete with the fish trying to wrap the line around my VMAX, we landed Joe’s 41-incher.  Jubilation ensued.  We had broken the damn curse and we were feeling really good about ourselves.

After his fish swam away we reset our lines and continued our troll.  We hit the seventeen again to the cattails and “S” trolled downstream and trolled it again, all the way to UN2 this time.  In the Triangle we pounded the humps and the twenty foot ridge.  It was here that Joe suggested I pull his new night shiner Depthraider.  I agreed.

On a tiny little hump even with the middle of Strawberry near Lunge Lane, I called fish on.  It felt huge.  Big fish I thought and I let Joe know that.  When he netted my 39” musky I was a little surprised it wasn’t a mid-forty inch musky.  Oh well, don’t get greedy I thought.  The fish hit at 10:30 and I had eighty feet of line out.

I think this has been a nice report so far.  I’ve been specific with the locations of our fish and I let you all know what we caught our fish on.  With most fishing reports this is all the information you should have to glean.  Pay attention now.

Up until now you know why we were both lucky.  We had both caught fish and we had broken our curse.  Here’s why I was lucky to have Joe on board.  During the release process, Joe was helping me cut a hook buried in the flesh near the fish’s gills.  I was pressing on the skin to expose the barb and Joe was cutting.  I think Joe may have bumped me, but I’m not completely sure he did either.  What happened next happened in the blink of an eye.  I was falling out of the boat.  In I went, ass over tea kettle.

After the initial shock of not being in my boat, I instructed Joe not worry about me and release the musky.  He removed the last hook and grabbed my camera.  I pulled the fish from the net and Joe took a true water release picture.

The fish was swimming on or near the surface.  I wanted to swim to it, but also wanted a life jacket just in case something bad (really bad) happened.  By the time Joe threw me the life vest, the fish was gone.  We looked around before and after I returned to the inside of my boat, thanks to power trim and Joe’s Herculean strength.

We motored around for a few minutes and didn’t see the fish.  I hope it’s okay.

After the fact, we both laughed like hell, but…

If I had been by myself I would have had an even more difficult time getting in my boat.  If I had been fishing by myself and the water was cold, I would have been in big trouble.  If this had happened in cold and rough water, well, I don’t want to think about that.   I’ve always scoffed at wearing a life jacket, although I do put one on when I’m running by myself to keep Carrie happy.  I am going to wear one from now on if I’m alone.  They are bulky and uncomfortable, but who cares.  Like I said, if the water was colder and I was alone, I would have been in big trouble.  My brother purchased a ladder for the boat and I am going to keep it in a spot I can access from the water as well.

Joe wanted me to title this report Presidential Assassination Attempt, but I think I'll stick with Preachy Fishing Diatribe.  If you are out by yourself, wear your PFDs.

We fished until 12:15 AM with no more excitement other than the excitement generated by two friends telling stories, pulling lures with confidence and having a good ‘ol time.  Thanks Joe.  Remind me to give you back your fleece.

PS: We did okay bass fishing.  We caught about thirty, with ten over fifteen and five over seventeen.

PPS: I called Tom Page after I was back in my boat and told him the story.  Of course he had a good laugh at my expense.  He ended our conversation with, "Let me know if something exciting happens."  Damn do I love a dry sense of humor.

[Scott McKee]

Negative Frank.  I traded it for harmonica.

[John Pensyl]

Was it a hohner atleast?? Now u can play the musky blues on the slow days.

[Josh Ketry]

Great Story Scott.  Great point to always wear a vest when alone - or at night.  Even with a partner if you fall out of a fast moving boat at night it could be bad news.

I remember when Jojo went head over heels into the Niagara chasing a rod he got snagged up somewhere above the train bridge.  When he emerged from the swirling waters and was topside again I was like, "Damn Joe, that was kind of crazy!"

He responded, "That was my brand new G Loomis!  Alabalabala!"