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This is the rest of the road that we took on Maui. It was an incredible drive. After we went through Kapalua we drove a mile or so up out of the valley and found the most beautiful Art Gallery we had ever seen. The view was incredible from their Porch, the Pacific to the right, the Village of Kapalua far below and a valley out of Jerassic Park to the left. Their landscaping was incredible too.
As you can see in the video the road greatly improves as we go further north along the coastline toward Kahalaui. The entire crooked narrow road has to be 30-40 miles. I don't really know but it was a long trip!!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Road to Kahakuloa
On our first day on Maui, 2-13-2010, Mary and I decided, even though it was raining, to take a ride up the coast and see the sights. I looked on the map and it looked like a winding road up the coast from Lahaina and looked interesting.
We started North on State Highway 30 and the scenery was indeed beautiful, even looking through a rainy windshield. We stopped at every opportunity to take some pictures and look for whales. we could see some at almost every stop if we looked a while.
The road ran along the ocean and back into hidden valleys and slowly got narrower. I did not really notice when the center line disappeared but somewhere along the way it did. I can not remember when I first noticed the dang road was getting pretty narrow until I saw a car coming and there was no place to really pull off. Cripe, there were two cars trying to pass on a one car road! I looked at Mary and asked where the hell the road went!
It was white knuckle driving for quite a way, actually for miles but I was not looking at the speedometer at the time. It was funny because when the natives would squeeze past they would be smiling as if they were in their right mind but the tourist were, lets just say, rather tense :D Me included. I would guess we passed a dozen cars or so in this way.
There were several times that I squeezed over to the right as tight as I could and we almost took our mirrors off! There were several parts of this video edited because Mary and I were rather tense at times HAHAHHA She wanted to kill me! There was one time where the road was especially narrow and a car was coming and she said, "Look, there's a whale!" I explained to her, in a kind and gentile way I thought at the time, that I was not interested in a whale at the time. She must have interpreted that in a different way because she immediately called me an AH. Hummm, on reflection maybe I did react in a tense voice through terror. Hummm Frankly I would not have noticed a Whale mating with a kangaroo right along the road at that point, I was so focused on the dang road. :(
We finally came to a spot where we could look down at the small Village of Kahakuloa. Heck I didn't even know there was a village down in that gully but there it was. A quaint little village with a beautiful church. The road was no wider through the village either. The enterprising villagers had set up little stands to sell water and banana bread along side the road to earn a little money from the crazy tourists too. Problem was, when someone stopped to get some banana bread the traffic on the so called road was halted until the transaction was finished. That was fine as a few minutes of relaxation was in order about then.
After we passed through the village the road widened by about foot though and that gave us a little breathing room. We could see some kind of building occasionally when we looked up to the top of the hill but could not make out what the heck it was. It looked like a resort or something but there is no way that sane tourists would drive this road to no dang resort!
As I said the road got a bit wider and we came to the top of the hill and there was a beautiful home. It was actually an art gallery and we decided to stop.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
1-30-10 A RIDE ALONG THE MASON TRACT
took a ride to the Durants Castle yesterday and saw these deer.
The Castle used to be along the Mason Tract but now is nother much but a memory. It was built at the cost of a half milliion dollars back in the early 30's and burned to the ground before anyone even lived in it, with no insurance I was told. There are pictures of the old castle at the site but it is hard to believe that such a huge building could have ever been there. Nothing is left but some foundations.
I grabbed these pictures with my video camera and then watched them on my Computer and grabbed the stills. I gues I could have grabbed the stills while I was there but didn't think about it.
There was an old dock there for canoeist to use but it has been taken out and a new one built by the DNR a short distance down stream.
I saw quite a few deer on the drive back there and managed to catch these few.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Blue Hawaiian Helicopters - Maui - Video Clips
Blue Hawaiian Helicopters - Maui - Video Clips
We are going on a Helicopter ride on the island of Maui with this outfit. It ought to be exciting. I will have a bunch of pictures and video to post after we get back from the flight, if we have Wifi in the Hotel.
A combination of our West Maui and Hana/Haleakala Tours - with an exciting extra bonus! This detailed tour of the entire island begins with a flight exploration of the most magnificent West Maui valleys, rainforest, and waterfalls. Then comes the bonus: we land at our scenic and exclusive remote landing site at Ulupalakua Ranch, on the slopes of Haleakala. Refreshments are served while you enjoy the breathtaking scenery and pastoral setting for approximately 20 minutes. The flight then continues for a 45-minute exploration of East Maui, including Hana & Haleakala.
We are going on a Helicopter ride on the island of Maui with this outfit. It ought to be exciting. I will have a bunch of pictures and video to post after we get back from the flight, if we have Wifi in the Hotel.
A combination of our West Maui and Hana/Haleakala Tours - with an exciting extra bonus! This detailed tour of the entire island begins with a flight exploration of the most magnificent West Maui valleys, rainforest, and waterfalls. Then comes the bonus: we land at our scenic and exclusive remote landing site at Ulupalakua Ranch, on the slopes of Haleakala. Refreshments are served while you enjoy the breathtaking scenery and pastoral setting for approximately 20 minutes. The flight then continues for a 45-minute exploration of East Maui, including Hana & Haleakala.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Blue Racer and Mrs Scott
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Monday, January 12, 2004
My Story-When I was about 15, I guess, I had a pet Blue Racer. This snake was over 6 ft long. It was a beauty. I caught it in the spring and had tamed it down pretty well.
They can climb trees and we had a small elm in the back yard, about 10 or 12 ft tall and I would put him up to it, early on a hot day and he would bask up there all day long. It didn't have to hunt for food so it was satisfied with the situation.
I had sorta kept it quite that I had it as the neighbors were a pain and would complain. I had a Mississauga Rattler for a pet, for a short time but the neighbors had complained to the cops and I had to get rid of it.
One day late in the season I decided to have some fun with it. I had planned on turning it loose, so it could hibernate for the winter anyway.
I had a buddy named Larry Scott. His mother was quite a woman. Six ft one and 240 lbs if she weighed a dang pound. She was like one of our buddies but one you listened to. His dad was a ratty little sucker that you just wanted to slap because you knew GOD didn't like him, making him so ugly!
Anyway, back to the snake. I took this snake, which is a constrictor, and wrapped it around my neck, with its head tucked under my shirt. Over this I wore my light jacket.
It being a chilly day the snake didn't mind as I was warm. The shake was tame a bit, which only meant it rarely bit.
I went over to Larry's and went in the house. Mas Scott saw me and asked me to give her my jacket. I pulled that thing off and as she reached for the jacket the snake pulled his head out of the shirt to look around.
Mrs Scott was in mid reach when that big old snake head reared out and I never new a bigassed woman could scream so loud or run so fast. It scared the crap out of me because I just knew she could beat me to death, if she ever took a mind to.
Now Mrs Scott was a tough old woman and knew all the bad words and she used them about then. I was a laughing but I doubt it was sounding like a laugh as there just had to be a bit of terror mixed in. She came at me and the only thing that saved my young foolish ass was the snake. She was not gonna get close enough to thump me as long as that 6 ft snake was wrapped around my dang neck!
She was a yelling, "Get out! Get out you rotten little son of a beach! I am a gonna snap your neck the next time I see you?"
She coulda done it too and I was about thinking I had pushed it a bit too far. I didn't give a good rip if I scared her but I did care that she scared ME!!
I took off for home and avoided the Scott house for the next week or so. She sent a message with Larry that I could come back but to leave the dam snake home or she would cram it where the sun don't shine. I knowed that was a lie though. She sure the heck coulda done it but it would mean she would have to touch the snake and she was not gonna do that!
She was one good woman and I miss her. I don't miss Larry though but that is another story.
I turned the snake loose soon after but caught another one, years later that was 7 ft 6 inches or more
# posted by Royal : 9:01 AM
Monday, January 12, 2004
My Story-When I was about 15, I guess, I had a pet Blue Racer. This snake was over 6 ft long. It was a beauty. I caught it in the spring and had tamed it down pretty well.
They can climb trees and we had a small elm in the back yard, about 10 or 12 ft tall and I would put him up to it, early on a hot day and he would bask up there all day long. It didn't have to hunt for food so it was satisfied with the situation.
I had sorta kept it quite that I had it as the neighbors were a pain and would complain. I had a Mississauga Rattler for a pet, for a short time but the neighbors had complained to the cops and I had to get rid of it.
One day late in the season I decided to have some fun with it. I had planned on turning it loose, so it could hibernate for the winter anyway.
I had a buddy named Larry Scott. His mother was quite a woman. Six ft one and 240 lbs if she weighed a dang pound. She was like one of our buddies but one you listened to. His dad was a ratty little sucker that you just wanted to slap because you knew GOD didn't like him, making him so ugly!
Anyway, back to the snake. I took this snake, which is a constrictor, and wrapped it around my neck, with its head tucked under my shirt. Over this I wore my light jacket.
It being a chilly day the snake didn't mind as I was warm. The shake was tame a bit, which only meant it rarely bit.
I went over to Larry's and went in the house. Mas Scott saw me and asked me to give her my jacket. I pulled that thing off and as she reached for the jacket the snake pulled his head out of the shirt to look around.
Mrs Scott was in mid reach when that big old snake head reared out and I never new a bigassed woman could scream so loud or run so fast. It scared the crap out of me because I just knew she could beat me to death, if she ever took a mind to.
Now Mrs Scott was a tough old woman and knew all the bad words and she used them about then. I was a laughing but I doubt it was sounding like a laugh as there just had to be a bit of terror mixed in. She came at me and the only thing that saved my young foolish ass was the snake. She was not gonna get close enough to thump me as long as that 6 ft snake was wrapped around my dang neck!
She was a yelling, "Get out! Get out you rotten little son of a beach! I am a gonna snap your neck the next time I see you?"
She coulda done it too and I was about thinking I had pushed it a bit too far. I didn't give a good rip if I scared her but I did care that she scared ME!!
I took off for home and avoided the Scott house for the next week or so. She sent a message with Larry that I could come back but to leave the dam snake home or she would cram it where the sun don't shine. I knowed that was a lie though. She sure the heck coulda done it but it would mean she would have to touch the snake and she was not gonna do that!
She was one good woman and I miss her. I don't miss Larry though but that is another story.
I turned the snake loose soon after but caught another one, years later that was 7 ft 6 inches or more
# posted by Royal : 9:01 AM
Friday, January 15, 2010
Fishing White Lake #8
Terry, Norm and I were talking over what those two guys that were camped at the end of Ravine Lake had told us. There was a fairly large lake to the north east of their cabin but the only way to get there was an old Moose Trail. Now you might think a moose trail would be easy to hike on but it ain’t so. They could be dang rough to follow, especially though boggy country. Those long legged suckers could walk where a man could not and there was nobody clearing blow downs for them. Right Wayne? :D
The lake was a fly in lake. Fly-in lakes are regulated by Department of Lands and Forest, Canadian DNR. The lakes are inspected to make sure the water is potable and they are leased to the outfitter to set up camps and bring in fishermen.
Anyone can fish these lakes. Just because an outfitter has a camp on the lake does not mean that they have exclusive rights to the lake. They just have rights to the camp Some of the camps are pretty nice, gas stoves and refrigerators. Decent stoves for heat, etc. Some are pretty dang crude. I mean really crude. I will get to a story about my first flyin camp on Oswald Lake some time.
This lake we wanted to hike to was a flyin lake. I have no idea what the name of it was. Lake Canyoubiteyourtitsoff will work.
The fishermen at the cabin told us there was an aluminum boat at the other end of the trail. It was owned by a lodge out on the highway and they would rent it out. The lodge hired a float plane to fly the boat back into the lake in the spring and just leave it. It was not locked up but a person was to pay at the lodge.
We decided to try the lake. What the heck, it was a flyin lake and they were suppose to be good fishing. None of us could afford the price of a flyin lake and this was the next best thing.
Early in the morning we headed for the landing and we went to the lodge, which was only a few miles north and paid for a days rental. 20 bloody dollars for a dang day! This must have been in around 1967 and that was a lot of money! Well we paid it and told them we would be using it the next day.
We were pretty excited about the idea of fishing this lake. We had no idea what to expect except we were hoping for some food fish. Fishing in Canada can be iffy just like anywhere else.
Next morning we were up at daybreak and I threw together a quick breakfast. Bacon, eggs and lots of coffee.We packed out fishing gear and since it looked like it was gonna be a clear day we left the rain gear in camp. We packed fixings for a shore lunch too. As was usual we just took hotdogs and buns along with the fixings. They were easy and didn’t take up much room.
Soon we were headed north on Ravine Lake. Like I said before, it is a long and narrow lake. I don’t know how many miles long it is but with the little 51/2 hp Evenrude pushing that boat of mine it took a while. It was a beautiful run though. Not a sign that man had ever been there. We saw Beaver of course and an occasional Moose in the shallows of some little inlet or another. The would just look at us but really pay us no mine.
We finally came to the cabin and pulled in. The two fishermen came out.It seems they were not early risers and what the heck, they were going to be there for a month. We told them that we were going to fish the other lake and they said they were figureing we would.
The boat was back there but we had to lug in the motor and gas along with our fishing tackle and food. Well it did not look far on the map! And it wasn’t but it was a rough hike. The fishermen told us we were going to have problems getting all our gear over that trail as it was pretty wet and there were a lot of dead falls. I guess we could call that an understatement.
I threw the motor over one shoulder and the gas can in the other hand. It helped balance me a little and with them getting the rest we headed off down that little trail. With high hopes I might add.
I don’t remember much about that hike other than that it was miserable. It was hot and wet and the dang bugs were horrible. The black flys were out in droves and what blood they missed the dang skeeters got. We had plenty of repellent but it sweated off as fast as we sprayed it on.
The distance was not bad, maybe a couple miles, as I look at tehe map I think it might have been less but remember, this was a long time ago. I don’t remember but I do remember coming to the deadfalls and having to crawl over and through them and have the motor and gas passed through to me. We had to do the same with the other gear too. We had to take turns with the motor and gas because it was just too rough to lug all the way for one man.
Finally we got to the lake but we were hard pressed to even see the dang lake. It was so thick. Actually we came to the boat first. The back end was in the lake and the nose on the end of the trail and we could see the lake over the end of the boat. Brush was closed in all around us and over the boat. It was half full of water too.
I will never forget. That dang boat was a 10 ft flat bottom Viking Boat and it was old and beat to hell. All dented and banged up but it was all we had. We were lucky that there was a can there to bail it out with. We tried to drag it up to dump it but it was too full. We bailed it down, skeeters and black flys dining on us but finally got it hauled up and dumped.
We just looked at each other and shrugged and started loading it up. I crawled to the rear, motor in hand and secured it to the transom. They passed back the gas can and tackle, which I soon stowed.
I got out and we shoved that stinking little boat through the brush and into the water. I got in first and they followed. I started the motor and threw it in reverse. We edged our way out into the lake and got our first look at a real flyin lake. Lake Canyoubiteyourtitsoff! Come on fish!
Norm said, “Hey this boat leaks like a seive! I looked down and sure nuff, there was an inch of water in the boat and it was rising! What the hell! With the three of us in that little boat the thing was tippy as hell and now it was gonna SINK?? Cripe! I eased toward shore and they started looking for wher the water was coming in. Any movement by any of us made it feel like it was gonna tip over and it was spookey going.
One of them found that the seam between the bottom and side had a split in it about four or five inches long and the water was coming in pretty fast. What the hell to do. We fished around in our tackle boxes and could find nothing to plug the hole! 20 bucks for this? I smoked at the time and dumped my cigarettes in my tackle box and told Terry to try to stuff the empty pack in the split, which he did. This slowed the leak but we were still taking water. We had to bail all the time. I don’t really remember what we used to bail with, probably brought the can from shore but it was almost a full time job.
We decided to hold to shore and try to find some fish. Holding to shore in case we sunk just didn’t make much sense where we were. Heck if we sunk we might as well cut our throats because getting to shore would not really be a plus. We just would not drown but would be lucky enough to be eaten alive by bugs. If we got to shore there were no roads and the trail was invisible now. We had marked it by a small island, maybe 70 or 80 ft in diameter about a hundred yards off shore from the trail. Man if we had not marked it we would never have found it when we went back.
We casted the little bays and trolled a bit but we were not really doing very well. It was miserable fishing in that little boat and it took constant bailing and the slightest move by any of us made it feel like it was going over. 20 bloody bucks for this piece of crap.
We caught a few fish, Pike it seems, we wanted to get into some walleye for camp meat but the were not biting. We headed to the right when we started fishing and went a long way is seems. As I look at the lake using Google Maps I realize that it sprawls all over the place. It is narrow, as you can see and there are lots of inlets and bays to fish.
We decided to eat something and headed back to that little island. It was just a little thing but had some stunted pine on it. Like all the islands in that country, it is just bedrock. We pulled into the inshore side of the island and hauled the boat up. Didn’t want the dnag thing to sink just a setting there! We hauled our gear out and tipped it over to drain the water. We got to looking at the split and it was a good one. We had our hotdogs wrapped in tinfoil and decided to pack that in the split before we headed out fishing again.
We try to always make our camps and shore lunchs on islands or bare points if possible. This helps keep the bugs down. If you have never been in northern Canada during black fly season you just can not imagine what they can be like. I have seen them so thick that my buddy at the other end of the canoe was hard to see. That is another story though. They were not that bad here but they were pretty thick. It is funny and lucky that you are able to ignore them eventually if they are not biting. Bug spray will keep them from biting but it does not stop them from checking your out. In droves!! They will get in you mouth, ears and eyes. They will get into your dang hair and burrow to your dang skalp! Liberal use of OFF and lack of baths keep them at bay though.
We built a fire on the bare rock and got a hot fire going. Then we threw some moss on it to make a bit of smoke. That helps keep the bugs at bay too and is much better than getting your old self et.
We cut some twigs to roast the hotdogs on and dug out the fixings, which were rather skimpy. Mustard and Catsup. We might have had something else too but I can not remember now. Probably not.
We ate and it was a lazy day. The fish were not biting and the dang boat was a sinking and we were in no hurry to get back out on the lake. I wanted to fish though! The other two were satisfied to set and fart and burp and bitch.
I decided to see if I could catch anything from shore. I grabbed my rod , with my trusty floating Rapala and wormed through the small trees, they were maybe 15 ft tall, to the lake side of the little rock pile. I made a few cast and while watching my Rapala work I thought I saw a follow up.Pike will do that all the time. They will follow a dang lure right up to the boat and stare at you. I was not sure though because that water up there is stained with tannin, sorta looks like Root Beer.
I cast out again and worked it in a little slower. Something hit it and I pulled it in. It was a small, maybe 10 in Walleye! I yelled to my buddies, “Hey, I got a dang Walleye!” They called me a lyin bastud and continued their burping and fartin and butching. Well I tossed it back because I wanted some MEAT! Not some little pissant like that!
I cast out again and caught another one and again another. I went through the brush and told them to pack up because there was a school of them over there and we had to get into them before they wandered off..
I flipped the boat over and started putting the motor back on and they tossed the fishing gear in, finally believing that I had gotten into to some Walleye. They had packed the hole with the tin foil, notice I can not spell Aluminum? :D, while I fished though on the other side of the island. They were dumbarses though but I didn’t know it yet..
We pushed the boat out and I headed around the island.
Walleye are school fish. Just like minnows and smallmouth bass. Largemouth bass are more solitary but where you find one walleye you are sure to find more. We swung around that island and threw out our lures and started trolling. We were using floating Rapallas, which look like a minnow but had a sinker about a foot ahead of it. This would take the lure down but if we hung up on a rock we could usually just give some slack and they would float free. Saves a lot of lures :D
I slowed to trolling speed and approached the area I was casting and one of us got a hit, I misremember who. I kicked the motor into neutral until it was in and on the stringer and started again. Every pass we caught one walleye but they were small and that is slow fishing. We had to find the main school.
While we were doing this one of them had to constantly bail. I asked if they had used the foil to plug the hole and they assured me that they had. Seemed like a lot of water was coming in though!
I swung the boat around the island to make a pass between the island and shore. Maybe they were there. Someone caught another one and it was a good one. Maybe three lbs or so! This is more like it. On the stringer it went! “Bail the dang boat Norm!” Geesh, the water was an inch or so deep and I had my hands full with my pole and the motor. He grabbed the bail bucket.
We made another pass and we had a double on ! They were both nice fish and were just tossed in the bottom of the boat. Well what the he11 there was plenty of water to keep them alive! Dumbarses were not bailing because the fishing was too fast! We were fishing and catching and tossing them in the bottom of that little piece of crap boat and having a ball.
We were getting into pike too! We just threw them back because I sure the hell was not gonna be a lugging any dang pike back over that trail! We were having a ball and any thought of the boat sinking was lost in the thrill of the moment I guess.
I looked down at the boat bottom and I swear that the sight was amazing! There had to be four inches of water now and it was full of dang nice walleye!! The bottom was covered with the dang things and they were swimming all over the place. Well not swimming maybe but the bottom was covered with them.
I looked at the hole and the water was streaming in. I asked where the hell the foil plug was and one of them said, “Right there under the seat!” and turned to the fish he was fighting. The dang fools had packed it in from the inside and the water pressure and us jumping around had just popped it out. I told them to jam it in from outside but they did it the easy way.
I ran the boat up on the little island and started a bailing the thing out again. The fish were covering the bottom by now and it was dangerous to try to stand up. Fish slime all over the place. I grabbed the foil and with the back of my knife, jammed it in and made as good a seal as I could. What the heck, I was having a ball to and wanted to get back out. I sure the heck didn’t want to sink though!
I am not gonna pretend that I remember every fish we caught but one I do remember.
We were making a pass, right where we had been hitting them, when I got a hit. I rared back on the rod and kicked the motor out of gear. It felt like I had snagged bottom but I was not sure. The boat drifted and Terry asked if I had one on and I told him I was not sure. I kept watching the rod tip for any movement. If you hold it fairly tight and just drift with the breeze, there was not much of one that day, any movement by the fish is usually seen. I saw none, just a steady arcing of the rod tip. Hummmm?
I let out some slack. The line seemed to be moving away from me. I looked in the water to see if we had current but the water was slack and there was little breeze.. I told Terry that I was not sure but I thought I had a fish on and if it was, it was one big sucker! I was using a bass rod with 10# test line.
I let out a little slack again and it moved off! By golly that was a fish! I let it go a ways, it swam slowly but steadly away and rammed the hooks home again. Now he started acting like a fish but it would not turn my way, in fact the boat was slowly being pulled by the fish. It was a small boat and I have had bigger boats than this pulled. It is not like a fast pull but just a steady pull against a bent rod.
It was not out very far but down at about a 45 degree angle. I kept the pressure on him and he still pulled away. My drag was set fairly tight but it slipped a bit in jerks. It was a bit of a standoff.
I did not know for sure if it was a Pike or Walleye but what ever it was was big! Pike and Walleye fight differently. Every big pike I have caught will make a run and when you get its head turned you can feel it shake its head. If you watch where the line enters the water you can usually see it move from side to side. Not much and not enough to make you bet on it but it gives you a feeling. A pike feeling.
A big Walleye will fight much the same but I have never really seen the head shake. They may do it but I have not noticed it. A walleye will stay on the bottom if he can and this one CAN. This sucker was on the bottom and hanging tight. In fact I fought this thing until it was up to the boat but still on the bottom. It was not moving either. It decided to just stay there and as hard as I hauled on the rod, it stayed.
Heck, I started thinking I had lost it. I looked at Terry and Norm. Then I looked at the bottom of the dang boat. There was a good 6 inches of water in that dang boat and I yelled to start bailing! Cripe I was gonna get the fish of a lifetime and have to swim it to shore!! Geeesh. We were so intent on that dang fish we could have sunk!
The fish would not move. I bet I sat there for five minutes, watching that rod tip for any sign of life. There was none, just a tight arc. Finally with a shrug I let out some slack and watched. Not much slack but a little. We watched.
All of a sudden it started moving off again and this time it meant business. It moved out and I hauled back on the rod and it started going to the right, in the direction of the little island. The line was singing through the water and it seemed to be going to go around the boat. I had to watch it now because you did not want it under the boat. That crappy boat had so many snags and such on it that it would snap the line for sure.
I swung the pole over their heads and then he was around the other side of the boat. Norm had bailed the boat down to the fish. Geesh. What a mess. The boat was swimming with walleye.
I fought that sucker for a little longer and had it up to the boat again but again he was on the bottom. I figured I would just have to wait him out.
All of a sudden the line went slack. Just like that. Slack! I looked down and the Rapalla came bobbing to the surface. It was weighted to dive but would float when still. I looked at my companions and shrugged my shoulders. I picked up the Rapalla and the hooks were not even straightened out. The finish was torn to heck but how that dang hook pulled free is beyond me.
What I think happened is that the bottom of those lakes are covered with rocks and if the fish got behind one and snagged that lure on one, it could easily jerk its head free and swim off, leaving me snagged to the rock. If the front lip was hung on the rock it would simply float free and I think that is what happened. I will always wonder what I had. I feel it was one he11 of a walleye but will never know.
It was getting late by now and we had a long way to go with a bunch of fish AND all the gear. We headed for the trailhead and offloaded.
We had caught 14 nice pike and 29 walleye. The limit was 6 per man per day at the time- if I remember right, so we had to throw some back. We picked the 18 largest and threw the rest back in. The pike we had not even kept.
That hike back was rough! It was rough but we were young and we had it to do. We got back to the cabin and we were whipped. We still had the length of Ravine Lake to traverse but it was just riding in the boat. The two guy at the cabin were supprised at our success.
The ride back to base camp was really nice. The sun was setting and as soon as the sun was down the northern lights started showing. I have rarely seen them up there but they are spooky. We got back in full dark but it is a day I will never forget.
I just set up my scanner so it will scan my old slides and I think I found a couple from tha trip. I will post them if I can get a decient picture out of them. They are old and in bad shape.
Thanks for coming along on a wonderful trip
The lake was a fly in lake. Fly-in lakes are regulated by Department of Lands and Forest, Canadian DNR. The lakes are inspected to make sure the water is potable and they are leased to the outfitter to set up camps and bring in fishermen.
Anyone can fish these lakes. Just because an outfitter has a camp on the lake does not mean that they have exclusive rights to the lake. They just have rights to the camp Some of the camps are pretty nice, gas stoves and refrigerators. Decent stoves for heat, etc. Some are pretty dang crude. I mean really crude. I will get to a story about my first flyin camp on Oswald Lake some time.
This lake we wanted to hike to was a flyin lake. I have no idea what the name of it was. Lake Canyoubiteyourtitsoff will work.
The fishermen at the cabin told us there was an aluminum boat at the other end of the trail. It was owned by a lodge out on the highway and they would rent it out. The lodge hired a float plane to fly the boat back into the lake in the spring and just leave it. It was not locked up but a person was to pay at the lodge.
We decided to try the lake. What the heck, it was a flyin lake and they were suppose to be good fishing. None of us could afford the price of a flyin lake and this was the next best thing.
Early in the morning we headed for the landing and we went to the lodge, which was only a few miles north and paid for a days rental. 20 bloody dollars for a dang day! This must have been in around 1967 and that was a lot of money! Well we paid it and told them we would be using it the next day.
We were pretty excited about the idea of fishing this lake. We had no idea what to expect except we were hoping for some food fish. Fishing in Canada can be iffy just like anywhere else.
Next morning we were up at daybreak and I threw together a quick breakfast. Bacon, eggs and lots of coffee.We packed out fishing gear and since it looked like it was gonna be a clear day we left the rain gear in camp. We packed fixings for a shore lunch too. As was usual we just took hotdogs and buns along with the fixings. They were easy and didn’t take up much room.
Soon we were headed north on Ravine Lake. Like I said before, it is a long and narrow lake. I don’t know how many miles long it is but with the little 51/2 hp Evenrude pushing that boat of mine it took a while. It was a beautiful run though. Not a sign that man had ever been there. We saw Beaver of course and an occasional Moose in the shallows of some little inlet or another. The would just look at us but really pay us no mine.
We finally came to the cabin and pulled in. The two fishermen came out.It seems they were not early risers and what the heck, they were going to be there for a month. We told them that we were going to fish the other lake and they said they were figureing we would.
The boat was back there but we had to lug in the motor and gas along with our fishing tackle and food. Well it did not look far on the map! And it wasn’t but it was a rough hike. The fishermen told us we were going to have problems getting all our gear over that trail as it was pretty wet and there were a lot of dead falls. I guess we could call that an understatement.
I threw the motor over one shoulder and the gas can in the other hand. It helped balance me a little and with them getting the rest we headed off down that little trail. With high hopes I might add.
I don’t remember much about that hike other than that it was miserable. It was hot and wet and the dang bugs were horrible. The black flys were out in droves and what blood they missed the dang skeeters got. We had plenty of repellent but it sweated off as fast as we sprayed it on.
The distance was not bad, maybe a couple miles, as I look at tehe map I think it might have been less but remember, this was a long time ago. I don’t remember but I do remember coming to the deadfalls and having to crawl over and through them and have the motor and gas passed through to me. We had to do the same with the other gear too. We had to take turns with the motor and gas because it was just too rough to lug all the way for one man.
Finally we got to the lake but we were hard pressed to even see the dang lake. It was so thick. Actually we came to the boat first. The back end was in the lake and the nose on the end of the trail and we could see the lake over the end of the boat. Brush was closed in all around us and over the boat. It was half full of water too.
I will never forget. That dang boat was a 10 ft flat bottom Viking Boat and it was old and beat to hell. All dented and banged up but it was all we had. We were lucky that there was a can there to bail it out with. We tried to drag it up to dump it but it was too full. We bailed it down, skeeters and black flys dining on us but finally got it hauled up and dumped.
We just looked at each other and shrugged and started loading it up. I crawled to the rear, motor in hand and secured it to the transom. They passed back the gas can and tackle, which I soon stowed.
I got out and we shoved that stinking little boat through the brush and into the water. I got in first and they followed. I started the motor and threw it in reverse. We edged our way out into the lake and got our first look at a real flyin lake. Lake Canyoubiteyourtitsoff! Come on fish!
Norm said, “Hey this boat leaks like a seive! I looked down and sure nuff, there was an inch of water in the boat and it was rising! What the hell! With the three of us in that little boat the thing was tippy as hell and now it was gonna SINK?? Cripe! I eased toward shore and they started looking for wher the water was coming in. Any movement by any of us made it feel like it was gonna tip over and it was spookey going.
One of them found that the seam between the bottom and side had a split in it about four or five inches long and the water was coming in pretty fast. What the hell to do. We fished around in our tackle boxes and could find nothing to plug the hole! 20 bucks for this? I smoked at the time and dumped my cigarettes in my tackle box and told Terry to try to stuff the empty pack in the split, which he did. This slowed the leak but we were still taking water. We had to bail all the time. I don’t really remember what we used to bail with, probably brought the can from shore but it was almost a full time job.
We decided to hold to shore and try to find some fish. Holding to shore in case we sunk just didn’t make much sense where we were. Heck if we sunk we might as well cut our throats because getting to shore would not really be a plus. We just would not drown but would be lucky enough to be eaten alive by bugs. If we got to shore there were no roads and the trail was invisible now. We had marked it by a small island, maybe 70 or 80 ft in diameter about a hundred yards off shore from the trail. Man if we had not marked it we would never have found it when we went back.
We casted the little bays and trolled a bit but we were not really doing very well. It was miserable fishing in that little boat and it took constant bailing and the slightest move by any of us made it feel like it was going over. 20 bloody bucks for this piece of crap.
We caught a few fish, Pike it seems, we wanted to get into some walleye for camp meat but the were not biting. We headed to the right when we started fishing and went a long way is seems. As I look at the lake using Google Maps I realize that it sprawls all over the place. It is narrow, as you can see and there are lots of inlets and bays to fish.
We decided to eat something and headed back to that little island. It was just a little thing but had some stunted pine on it. Like all the islands in that country, it is just bedrock. We pulled into the inshore side of the island and hauled the boat up. Didn’t want the dnag thing to sink just a setting there! We hauled our gear out and tipped it over to drain the water. We got to looking at the split and it was a good one. We had our hotdogs wrapped in tinfoil and decided to pack that in the split before we headed out fishing again.
We try to always make our camps and shore lunchs on islands or bare points if possible. This helps keep the bugs down. If you have never been in northern Canada during black fly season you just can not imagine what they can be like. I have seen them so thick that my buddy at the other end of the canoe was hard to see. That is another story though. They were not that bad here but they were pretty thick. It is funny and lucky that you are able to ignore them eventually if they are not biting. Bug spray will keep them from biting but it does not stop them from checking your out. In droves!! They will get in you mouth, ears and eyes. They will get into your dang hair and burrow to your dang skalp! Liberal use of OFF and lack of baths keep them at bay though.
We built a fire on the bare rock and got a hot fire going. Then we threw some moss on it to make a bit of smoke. That helps keep the bugs at bay too and is much better than getting your old self et.
We cut some twigs to roast the hotdogs on and dug out the fixings, which were rather skimpy. Mustard and Catsup. We might have had something else too but I can not remember now. Probably not.
We ate and it was a lazy day. The fish were not biting and the dang boat was a sinking and we were in no hurry to get back out on the lake. I wanted to fish though! The other two were satisfied to set and fart and burp and bitch.
I decided to see if I could catch anything from shore. I grabbed my rod , with my trusty floating Rapala and wormed through the small trees, they were maybe 15 ft tall, to the lake side of the little rock pile. I made a few cast and while watching my Rapala work I thought I saw a follow up.Pike will do that all the time. They will follow a dang lure right up to the boat and stare at you. I was not sure though because that water up there is stained with tannin, sorta looks like Root Beer.
I cast out again and worked it in a little slower. Something hit it and I pulled it in. It was a small, maybe 10 in Walleye! I yelled to my buddies, “Hey, I got a dang Walleye!” They called me a lyin bastud and continued their burping and fartin and butching. Well I tossed it back because I wanted some MEAT! Not some little pissant like that!
I cast out again and caught another one and again another. I went through the brush and told them to pack up because there was a school of them over there and we had to get into them before they wandered off..
I flipped the boat over and started putting the motor back on and they tossed the fishing gear in, finally believing that I had gotten into to some Walleye. They had packed the hole with the tin foil, notice I can not spell Aluminum? :D, while I fished though on the other side of the island. They were dumbarses though but I didn’t know it yet..
We pushed the boat out and I headed around the island.
Walleye are school fish. Just like minnows and smallmouth bass. Largemouth bass are more solitary but where you find one walleye you are sure to find more. We swung around that island and threw out our lures and started trolling. We were using floating Rapallas, which look like a minnow but had a sinker about a foot ahead of it. This would take the lure down but if we hung up on a rock we could usually just give some slack and they would float free. Saves a lot of lures :D
I slowed to trolling speed and approached the area I was casting and one of us got a hit, I misremember who. I kicked the motor into neutral until it was in and on the stringer and started again. Every pass we caught one walleye but they were small and that is slow fishing. We had to find the main school.
While we were doing this one of them had to constantly bail. I asked if they had used the foil to plug the hole and they assured me that they had. Seemed like a lot of water was coming in though!
I swung the boat around the island to make a pass between the island and shore. Maybe they were there. Someone caught another one and it was a good one. Maybe three lbs or so! This is more like it. On the stringer it went! “Bail the dang boat Norm!” Geesh, the water was an inch or so deep and I had my hands full with my pole and the motor. He grabbed the bail bucket.
We made another pass and we had a double on ! They were both nice fish and were just tossed in the bottom of the boat. Well what the he11 there was plenty of water to keep them alive! Dumbarses were not bailing because the fishing was too fast! We were fishing and catching and tossing them in the bottom of that little piece of crap boat and having a ball.
We were getting into pike too! We just threw them back because I sure the hell was not gonna be a lugging any dang pike back over that trail! We were having a ball and any thought of the boat sinking was lost in the thrill of the moment I guess.
I looked down at the boat bottom and I swear that the sight was amazing! There had to be four inches of water now and it was full of dang nice walleye!! The bottom was covered with the dang things and they were swimming all over the place. Well not swimming maybe but the bottom was covered with them.
I looked at the hole and the water was streaming in. I asked where the hell the foil plug was and one of them said, “Right there under the seat!” and turned to the fish he was fighting. The dang fools had packed it in from the inside and the water pressure and us jumping around had just popped it out. I told them to jam it in from outside but they did it the easy way.
I ran the boat up on the little island and started a bailing the thing out again. The fish were covering the bottom by now and it was dangerous to try to stand up. Fish slime all over the place. I grabbed the foil and with the back of my knife, jammed it in and made as good a seal as I could. What the heck, I was having a ball to and wanted to get back out. I sure the heck didn’t want to sink though!
I am not gonna pretend that I remember every fish we caught but one I do remember.
We were making a pass, right where we had been hitting them, when I got a hit. I rared back on the rod and kicked the motor out of gear. It felt like I had snagged bottom but I was not sure. The boat drifted and Terry asked if I had one on and I told him I was not sure. I kept watching the rod tip for any movement. If you hold it fairly tight and just drift with the breeze, there was not much of one that day, any movement by the fish is usually seen. I saw none, just a steady arcing of the rod tip. Hummmm?
I let out some slack. The line seemed to be moving away from me. I looked in the water to see if we had current but the water was slack and there was little breeze.. I told Terry that I was not sure but I thought I had a fish on and if it was, it was one big sucker! I was using a bass rod with 10# test line.
I let out a little slack again and it moved off! By golly that was a fish! I let it go a ways, it swam slowly but steadly away and rammed the hooks home again. Now he started acting like a fish but it would not turn my way, in fact the boat was slowly being pulled by the fish. It was a small boat and I have had bigger boats than this pulled. It is not like a fast pull but just a steady pull against a bent rod.
It was not out very far but down at about a 45 degree angle. I kept the pressure on him and he still pulled away. My drag was set fairly tight but it slipped a bit in jerks. It was a bit of a standoff.
I did not know for sure if it was a Pike or Walleye but what ever it was was big! Pike and Walleye fight differently. Every big pike I have caught will make a run and when you get its head turned you can feel it shake its head. If you watch where the line enters the water you can usually see it move from side to side. Not much and not enough to make you bet on it but it gives you a feeling. A pike feeling.
A big Walleye will fight much the same but I have never really seen the head shake. They may do it but I have not noticed it. A walleye will stay on the bottom if he can and this one CAN. This sucker was on the bottom and hanging tight. In fact I fought this thing until it was up to the boat but still on the bottom. It was not moving either. It decided to just stay there and as hard as I hauled on the rod, it stayed.
Heck, I started thinking I had lost it. I looked at Terry and Norm. Then I looked at the bottom of the dang boat. There was a good 6 inches of water in that dang boat and I yelled to start bailing! Cripe I was gonna get the fish of a lifetime and have to swim it to shore!! Geeesh. We were so intent on that dang fish we could have sunk!
The fish would not move. I bet I sat there for five minutes, watching that rod tip for any sign of life. There was none, just a tight arc. Finally with a shrug I let out some slack and watched. Not much slack but a little. We watched.
All of a sudden it started moving off again and this time it meant business. It moved out and I hauled back on the rod and it started going to the right, in the direction of the little island. The line was singing through the water and it seemed to be going to go around the boat. I had to watch it now because you did not want it under the boat. That crappy boat had so many snags and such on it that it would snap the line for sure.
I swung the pole over their heads and then he was around the other side of the boat. Norm had bailed the boat down to the fish. Geesh. What a mess. The boat was swimming with walleye.
I fought that sucker for a little longer and had it up to the boat again but again he was on the bottom. I figured I would just have to wait him out.
All of a sudden the line went slack. Just like that. Slack! I looked down and the Rapalla came bobbing to the surface. It was weighted to dive but would float when still. I looked at my companions and shrugged my shoulders. I picked up the Rapalla and the hooks were not even straightened out. The finish was torn to heck but how that dang hook pulled free is beyond me.
What I think happened is that the bottom of those lakes are covered with rocks and if the fish got behind one and snagged that lure on one, it could easily jerk its head free and swim off, leaving me snagged to the rock. If the front lip was hung on the rock it would simply float free and I think that is what happened. I will always wonder what I had. I feel it was one he11 of a walleye but will never know.
It was getting late by now and we had a long way to go with a bunch of fish AND all the gear. We headed for the trailhead and offloaded.
We had caught 14 nice pike and 29 walleye. The limit was 6 per man per day at the time- if I remember right, so we had to throw some back. We picked the 18 largest and threw the rest back in. The pike we had not even kept.
That hike back was rough! It was rough but we were young and we had it to do. We got back to the cabin and we were whipped. We still had the length of Ravine Lake to traverse but it was just riding in the boat. The two guy at the cabin were supprised at our success.
The ride back to base camp was really nice. The sun was setting and as soon as the sun was down the northern lights started showing. I have rarely seen them up there but they are spooky. We got back in full dark but it is a day I will never forget.
I just set up my scanner so it will scan my old slides and I think I found a couple from tha trip. I will post them if I can get a decient picture out of them. They are old and in bad shape.
Thanks for coming along on a wonderful trip
Underwater Fishing
This is a fast job but pretty much what happened.
Jim asked me to re-post the story about the underwater fishing I did . I can not get into the Archives, it seems, so I will have to re-do the story.
Back a few years I used to do a lot of bottle hunting in the St Clare River. This river runs between Lake Huron and Lake St Clare, which in turn runs into the Detroit River and Lake Erie. The river runs north to south with Canada on the eastern shore.
This river has been used for commerce since the white man first opened the country to trapping. Every ship that has ever plied lakes Superior, Michigan or Huron has had to use this river, which they still do. Hundreds of thousands of boats and ships have sailed these waters and the bottom is covered with the trash of the centuries. In places the sediment is feet thick and full of old bottles and other trash.
I have many hours on the bottom with scuba gear, collecting bottles. It is a lot of work and some times fruitless if I do not pick a productive site.
My favorite spot is in the city of St Clare. I have seen old pictures of the river front and there was a long boardwalk running along it. In fact the boardwalk was running above it. The people living along the river would just pitch their trash in the river and it would acclimate on the bottom, many places feet thick. The trick was to find those spots.
The bottom is covered with broken bottles, many blob topped and embossed. I have found hundreds of the things.
Now there is a park running along the river for about 8 blocks or so. This is well maintained and it is about a 80ft between the road and the river. They welcome the divers. Most of the divers are there to experience current diving and as the river is wider, thus shallower there than at Port Huron, it is easier on the new divers nerves.
Between the road there is a wide grassy area and then a boardwalk. Between the boardwalk and the water is a four foot high fence made of pipe. In this fence there are openings, in these there are ladders for swimmers and divers to access the river.. The water runs south which is left to right.
We would don our equipment and with a dive bag on my left wrist for holding my finds and a ping-pong paddle on the right for fanning the hard sediment on the bottom. We did this to dig holes. We would fan the bottom and depend on the current to carry away the debris. This way was the best because we didn’t risk breaking any bottles that might turn up.
In doing this, we would often wash out crawfish and other little morsels the fish loved. I am getting ahead of myself now.
The water is about 15 ft deep at the wall and the bottom is level for about 6 ft. Then it goes down at a 55 or 60 degree angle to the depth of about 35 ft where it levels off. This bank is where we would hunt for bottles. I have found some on the flats but we don’t like to get out into the shipping lanes. I have some story’s about that!!
What we would do is drop down the drop and find a likely spot and start digging. Now I never was sure what the hell a likely looking spot was but we would pick one.
If there were more than one of us and many times I went along, we would try to stagger so the debris from one digger would not blow down into the claim of another. This was not usually a problem as there was three or four hundred feet of bank we hunted. I have found 28 different types of ink bottles along there. Some have found bottles worth a couple thousand dollars along there although I never did.
I noticed one interesting thing. As I fanned the bottom I noticed that there were always a school of fish on the downstream side of me. They would just be setting there and when a crawdad was washed out by my digging, one of them would dart out and slurp it out.
These fish were usually small mouth bass and sheep head. ##### big small mouth bass too!! I know I saw many that would go 5 or 6 bs or maybe a bit more and that is one hell of a small mouth bass!!
One day I was digging and not finding much. I saw a little crawdad in my pit and caught him. I looked down stream at the school of hungry fish and tossed it into the current. A bass snapped that thing up is a flash.
Now those fish were only about 4 ft away from me and I did not concern them much at all. They just watched for little tidbits I would wash up. I looked around a bit of fishing line snagged to a log. I broke off a chunk of it and saw that there was a hook on the end. I then looked around for another crawdad. When I caught one I threaded it on the hook through the base of its tail. This left him frisky and ready to swim away. He was not going far as I only had four feet of line or so.
I dropped that guy into the current and it washed down to the waiting fish. It did not wash down for long!! A small mouth snagged him up and took off. He felt that hook and the fun was on. It fought like heck and was soon in my hands. The line was heavy and the fish was only a couple pounds so there was not much of a fight.
I turned it loose as I did not want to be caught taking a game fish in an illegal fashion. It was fun though..
On the way home I got to thinking. Why was it illegal? I had a fishing license. I went to the DNR the next week and saw the ranger and told him what I was thinking of doing. I told him I wanted to take a fishing pole to the bottom and bait it up and catch fish. He said that if I had a legal license, a legal fishing pole, there was nothing saying I had to be on the surface! Well I was right after all. I could not figure what would be wrong with it, only that nobody did it.
I dug through my fishing equipment and found an old ice- fishing rod. For you southern folk that is a short rod and the one I had had a reel built onto it. That should work, I figured.
The next chance I had I headed for the river, pole packed with my equipment. I got to the river and there were not many people around, which was fine with me. I rigged up and dropped into the water. I then headed or the bottom, pole in hand along with my bottle diggin tools.
I had not a clue how long it would take to attract fish,as I have never paid attention. I found a likely spot, rather free of snags and laid the pole in a secure spot, out of the current,as I did not want to have to go down stream to Lake Erie to get the pole. The current is still pretty stiff in that spot.
I then started fanning for bottles, all the while watching for crawdads t use as bait. It was not long before I had an audience. The fish started lining up, waiting for the food to be washed up. Boy there were some nice bass showing up!
I saw a crawdad finally and with a bit of doing, caught him. I threaded the hook through his tail and with my legs locked around a stump so as not to wash down stream, released the crawdad into the current.
Like before the dam fish fought to be the one to get the bait. A big old small mouth snagged him up and headed for Lake Erie! I had a stupid little rod with a one foot pole and he had the current fighting for him. I I let him run for a little bit but since I had 20 lb test line on that little rod, I managed to horse him back to me. That ##### thing was running up stream and down stream and under me and headed for the surface! I was just a holding on and trying not to get strangled in the ##### 20 lb test line.
When I finally got him back to me it was not as it he was done or nothing. He just wanted to look me over it seemed and when he did he headed for Erie again. He swam around and around and up and down and wore my arse out! I finally got him back to me again and then what??? I had not thought that far along it seems. I had cranked him to the end of my rod and he was as fresh as when I hooked him. I would guess he was around 31/2 to 4 lb and they are strong. I grabbed that bad boy in a head lock. Try that some time! Anyway I got my hand around him at the gills and got a death grip on him I then got my other hand on his head and with all I could muster, broke his back at the top of his gills.
I then got him off the hook and into my bag.
I did catch a few more that day but I suspect the blood in the water bothered them. They were hesitant to bite and even though I caught a limit, it was work. It was a lot of fun though and an interesting memory.
I have talked to others since and they have gone into spawning beds of bluegill and caught many of them.
Jim asked me to re-post the story about the underwater fishing I did . I can not get into the Archives, it seems, so I will have to re-do the story.
Back a few years I used to do a lot of bottle hunting in the St Clare River. This river runs between Lake Huron and Lake St Clare, which in turn runs into the Detroit River and Lake Erie. The river runs north to south with Canada on the eastern shore.
This river has been used for commerce since the white man first opened the country to trapping. Every ship that has ever plied lakes Superior, Michigan or Huron has had to use this river, which they still do. Hundreds of thousands of boats and ships have sailed these waters and the bottom is covered with the trash of the centuries. In places the sediment is feet thick and full of old bottles and other trash.
I have many hours on the bottom with scuba gear, collecting bottles. It is a lot of work and some times fruitless if I do not pick a productive site.
My favorite spot is in the city of St Clare. I have seen old pictures of the river front and there was a long boardwalk running along it. In fact the boardwalk was running above it. The people living along the river would just pitch their trash in the river and it would acclimate on the bottom, many places feet thick. The trick was to find those spots.
The bottom is covered with broken bottles, many blob topped and embossed. I have found hundreds of the things.
Now there is a park running along the river for about 8 blocks or so. This is well maintained and it is about a 80ft between the road and the river. They welcome the divers. Most of the divers are there to experience current diving and as the river is wider, thus shallower there than at Port Huron, it is easier on the new divers nerves.
Between the road there is a wide grassy area and then a boardwalk. Between the boardwalk and the water is a four foot high fence made of pipe. In this fence there are openings, in these there are ladders for swimmers and divers to access the river.. The water runs south which is left to right.
We would don our equipment and with a dive bag on my left wrist for holding my finds and a ping-pong paddle on the right for fanning the hard sediment on the bottom. We did this to dig holes. We would fan the bottom and depend on the current to carry away the debris. This way was the best because we didn’t risk breaking any bottles that might turn up.
In doing this, we would often wash out crawfish and other little morsels the fish loved. I am getting ahead of myself now.
The water is about 15 ft deep at the wall and the bottom is level for about 6 ft. Then it goes down at a 55 or 60 degree angle to the depth of about 35 ft where it levels off. This bank is where we would hunt for bottles. I have found some on the flats but we don’t like to get out into the shipping lanes. I have some story’s about that!!
What we would do is drop down the drop and find a likely spot and start digging. Now I never was sure what the hell a likely looking spot was but we would pick one.
If there were more than one of us and many times I went along, we would try to stagger so the debris from one digger would not blow down into the claim of another. This was not usually a problem as there was three or four hundred feet of bank we hunted. I have found 28 different types of ink bottles along there. Some have found bottles worth a couple thousand dollars along there although I never did.
I noticed one interesting thing. As I fanned the bottom I noticed that there were always a school of fish on the downstream side of me. They would just be setting there and when a crawdad was washed out by my digging, one of them would dart out and slurp it out.
These fish were usually small mouth bass and sheep head. ##### big small mouth bass too!! I know I saw many that would go 5 or 6 bs or maybe a bit more and that is one hell of a small mouth bass!!
One day I was digging and not finding much. I saw a little crawdad in my pit and caught him. I looked down stream at the school of hungry fish and tossed it into the current. A bass snapped that thing up is a flash.
Now those fish were only about 4 ft away from me and I did not concern them much at all. They just watched for little tidbits I would wash up. I looked around a bit of fishing line snagged to a log. I broke off a chunk of it and saw that there was a hook on the end. I then looked around for another crawdad. When I caught one I threaded it on the hook through the base of its tail. This left him frisky and ready to swim away. He was not going far as I only had four feet of line or so.
I dropped that guy into the current and it washed down to the waiting fish. It did not wash down for long!! A small mouth snagged him up and took off. He felt that hook and the fun was on. It fought like heck and was soon in my hands. The line was heavy and the fish was only a couple pounds so there was not much of a fight.
I turned it loose as I did not want to be caught taking a game fish in an illegal fashion. It was fun though..
On the way home I got to thinking. Why was it illegal? I had a fishing license. I went to the DNR the next week and saw the ranger and told him what I was thinking of doing. I told him I wanted to take a fishing pole to the bottom and bait it up and catch fish. He said that if I had a legal license, a legal fishing pole, there was nothing saying I had to be on the surface! Well I was right after all. I could not figure what would be wrong with it, only that nobody did it.
I dug through my fishing equipment and found an old ice- fishing rod. For you southern folk that is a short rod and the one I had had a reel built onto it. That should work, I figured.
The next chance I had I headed for the river, pole packed with my equipment. I got to the river and there were not many people around, which was fine with me. I rigged up and dropped into the water. I then headed or the bottom, pole in hand along with my bottle diggin tools.
I had not a clue how long it would take to attract fish,as I have never paid attention. I found a likely spot, rather free of snags and laid the pole in a secure spot, out of the current,as I did not want to have to go down stream to Lake Erie to get the pole. The current is still pretty stiff in that spot.
I then started fanning for bottles, all the while watching for crawdads t use as bait. It was not long before I had an audience. The fish started lining up, waiting for the food to be washed up. Boy there were some nice bass showing up!
I saw a crawdad finally and with a bit of doing, caught him. I threaded the hook through his tail and with my legs locked around a stump so as not to wash down stream, released the crawdad into the current.
Like before the dam fish fought to be the one to get the bait. A big old small mouth snagged him up and headed for Lake Erie! I had a stupid little rod with a one foot pole and he had the current fighting for him. I I let him run for a little bit but since I had 20 lb test line on that little rod, I managed to horse him back to me. That ##### thing was running up stream and down stream and under me and headed for the surface! I was just a holding on and trying not to get strangled in the ##### 20 lb test line.
When I finally got him back to me it was not as it he was done or nothing. He just wanted to look me over it seemed and when he did he headed for Erie again. He swam around and around and up and down and wore my arse out! I finally got him back to me again and then what??? I had not thought that far along it seems. I had cranked him to the end of my rod and he was as fresh as when I hooked him. I would guess he was around 31/2 to 4 lb and they are strong. I grabbed that bad boy in a head lock. Try that some time! Anyway I got my hand around him at the gills and got a death grip on him I then got my other hand on his head and with all I could muster, broke his back at the top of his gills.
I then got him off the hook and into my bag.
I did catch a few more that day but I suspect the blood in the water bothered them. They were hesitant to bite and even though I caught a limit, it was work. It was a lot of fun though and an interesting memory.
I have talked to others since and they have gone into spawning beds of bluegill and caught many of them.
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