Let me start this report by saying the start of 2012 has been less than stellar on the ice, as illustrated by the lack of reports! I’ve done some exploring with little to no success. While fishing Whitefish I ended up with suicidal Lake Trout, frustrating but it is what it is. When I relied on old stomping grounds the fishing was less than stellar.
Our annual trip to Cuba was a letdown fishing wise. We arrived to flat calm seas which makes fishing super tough. We had a blast but still a struggle on the fish front.
When I had made plans to head to Bay of Quinte for a shot at the famous trophy Walleye I had mixed feelings. It can be tough. I needed a day of some easy decent fish just to get the blood flowing and Quinte is rarely that. Once the crew was assembled just hanging with this crew would be fun enough for the day to be a success, fish or not.
We were a crew of 8. After making two moves on the ice and covering loads of water we were stumped. It was 2pm and we decided to pull the plug and head home with our tails between our legs. Ugh.
On the ride back to drop my buddy Charles back off at his vehicle he asked if I wanted to try one more area for the evening bite. “Well, we’re here. Might as well!”
By 3:30 we were back jigging. At 4:10 I had a violent strike, nearly ripped the rod from my grip. I set the hook and this fish went nuts. Wild headshakes and I was never in control of this fish for a second. To the hole it came in a hurry and with one more headshake my spoon flew out the hole. Gone. I still have no idea what it was but I’m sure it was no Walleye. Maybe a nice fresh Rainbow. Needless to say, I was a little perturbed!
I settled back in and tried to shake that off. Still cursing to myself I decided it was primetime and loaded my jigging spoon up with three fresh mud minnows. I dropped the smorgasbord down to bottom and began to jig. Shortly after that I heard Charles frustration bubbling over with his sense of humour. “I HATE FISHING!” I answered “You do?” As I was answering a nice mark showed up on my Vexilar. Whammo! “I don’t! Fish On!”
One thing I was told years ago by a fella that is wise of the Quinte eyes is always set the hook twice. Well I did, and it stuck.
After some somewhat anxious moments Charles was able to tame her up the hole for me. Fist pumps and high fives ensued. What a rush.
We had no scale and it really doesn’t matter what she weighed to me. She was 32 inches long so we can guess roughly her weight.
After a few pics she swam off strong. That is an 8 inch hole for scale. Chunky monkey!
It never ceases to amaze me the range of emotions that fishing creates. Frustration and disappointment can change in a second with that one bite that you’ll remember for a long time. Man I just love it!
