My salmon season finally begins

After arriving home from the outstanding fishing in Northeastern Ontario, I knew it would be difficult to go fishing in normal, “public” lakes again. I gave fishing a little break to spend time with my son, prepare for school, and enjoy many other aspects of life. Mid-August is a good month to do this in. The summer pattern is upon most the lakes and the fall pattern is still a ways away. For me, it meant there would be about a month or so until salmon season. With time a more of a premium than ever before, I would have to pick and choose my days to go very carefully.

As early September rolled around, a new addition was added to my daily “computer” routine of checking emails, blogs, and fishing sites. I was now going to carefully study the Lake Michigan surface temperatures. As the days begin to shorten, in September, and the west winds blow warm water across the great lake, the water temperatures begin to fall. This is a trigger to Lake Michigan’s salmon population to enter the tributaries and harbors for their ritual fall spawning run before they pass away. In states like Michigan, Wisconsin, and Indiana that have true tributaries, there are many other factors that determine when the salmon enter the rivers. I have never really fished any of them, so I am clueless as to how they work. In the harbors, however, water temperature is everything. Once that water dips below 70 F, you have a chance. Once the water is able to maintain itself in the mid-50′s, the run should be on.

Early in September, we did get a strong blow of west winds. This quickly dropped the water temperatures, and as it should, it brought the first waves of fish into the harbors.

September 4^th:

Todd and I arrived at Dusable Harbor, hoping, but not expecting much, as it was still early in the season. The cooler lake temps did bring our hopes up a little, but after two very slow fall seasons, recently, we did not know what to expect. We hit a small pier that goes out to the entrance of the harbor. Typically, if there is wind, there is a lot of current here. It can be a hit or miss fish magnet. We know our time was limited, so we hurried out to the pier and started chucking. I threw a ¾ ounce glow rattle trap, while I don’t remember what Todd had on. A few guys were on the pier when we arrived and told us that the fish were jumping, but they had lock jaw.

About 10 minutes after the guys left, I saw a few salmon jump in a current break. I cast my trap past them and began to reel. I got a small tap; I froze the lure to see if the fish would come back, only to pick up weeds. The next cast, I decided to burn the lure to stay above the weeds. About three cranks into the cast, I get a very subtle weighting down of my lure. I set the hook and the fish immediately jumps. I yell fish to Todd. The fish jumped one more time, and after a very short battle, the fish was in the net. It was a decent 7 lb Coho.

Matt battling his first salmon of the year.

A nice 7lb Coho after a lazy battle to begin the year.

About 15 minutes later, casting on the opposite side of the break, I feel tap-tap. I set the hook and yell fish on. This fish, however, would not come in so easily. It managed to run out about 50 yards, take me to the other side of the pier, then proceed to go back again. I finally bring the fish to the surface and see that it is a good sized female King Salmon. We knew it still had some energy left, so I played it for its final burst. It quickly took off around the corner of the pier one more time, and in doing so, my 8lb mono line nicked the concrete edge of the pier. Snap! Just as quickly as the battle had started, I was left with slack line and no lure blowing away in the wind. While I was disappointed, I understand that those are some of the breaks of using 8lb test.

Shortly after the weekend in which we finally caught a fish, east winds settle upon the Chicagoland area. This meant that all of our beautiful cold water was now going to be replaced with the warm surface water from the Michigan side of the lake. With the winds, the harbors became a devoid of fish. The activity of jumps and action was almost non-existent. Finally, with the beginning of October, cool nights and more west winds came. This meant the fish activity should begin to pick up again.

October 7^th:

Todd and I hit our local Chicago harbors. Now, with the season being later, we knew it was time to bring two rods. One would have our favorite crank bait; the other would hold some spawn from the fish I caught in September. We set our bobbers in the water and began casting. It was only about 5 minutes into casting where Todd indicated that he got a big hit from his rattle trip casting near the shore. Shortly after, my previously upright bobber went flat. It then went under. I set the hook and nothing. My spawn was gone so I re-rig it. A few minutes later, same spot, bobber goes flat, then down. This time I was a little more patient. I set the hook and this time I feel the fish. I knew right away that the fish was not big, but it was a fish none the less. After five or so minutes, Todd scoops down the net and I have this small low 20′s inch male King Salmon in the net.

My first king of the year....not the monster I was looking for.

Todd switches to a flat fish and after a few quick casts yells fish. He begins to battle a decent size male king over the next 10 or so minutes. He tires the fish out, he brings it to the net and I scoop the fish up. As I am pulling the fish to the surface, the fish does a flop and falls out of the net. This wouldn’t be such a bad thing except the hooks were no longer in his mouth. I look at my best fishing bud and tell him how sorry I am. He, being a good friend, just states that it happens and is no big deal. I probably felt worse than he did. He had been out a dozen or so times, through slow fishing, finally gets a fish and his net man lets it flop out. Little did I know at the time, a lesson was being taught to me that would be realized just a few days later.

October 10^th:

I hit up Dusable Harbor, this time by myself. There was a cold front coming through in which temperatures would drop below freezing. I wanted to get some fishing in this night, because the other nights would be brutally cold. I arrive at the harbor, only to see, that I have the whole thing to myself. I set-up my spawn and begin casting. After an hour or so of nothing, a group of three guys show up and also begin their efforts. They were friendly and I figured they could be useful if I needed help with netting. I see some fish jumping off a nearby pier, so I make my move over there. The only downfall of this spot is that it is about 8 ft above the water. This makes netting a fish very difficult.

After about an hour at the spot, I see three fish jump within seconds of each other. I was throwing a Reef Runner. My lure hits the water and within three cranks, I feel a freight train hit my lure. It immediately starts taking out drag. The fish goes under a pier for about a minute, but I somehow manage to pull her back out. Another 10 minutes go by and this fish is just pulling. Finally, I get the fish near the surface and the reality hits me, this fish is a monster. It would easily be a personal best for me and the biggest fish I have ever seen caught out of this harbor. One of the three guys asks me if I need help netting the fish. I indicate yes and he comes sprinting over. The fish is finally tired after a very long battle on 8lb test. The guy goes down to net my fish and has it. However, when he goes to pull the net up, he twists the net sideways and the fish flops out, free of my hooks. A quick feeling of despair quickly set over me. I look at the guy who is holding my net and I can quickly see the shocked and sorrowful look in his eyes. My brain has a quick flash back to just a few days prior. When I lost Todd’s fish, I was certain I felt worse than he did. I knew that I could not get angry at this guy or even make him feel bad, he already felt as bad as he could. He told me how sorry he was and that he didn’t know what happened. I just smiled, and told him that, hey it happens, no big deal. While it was a big deal on the inside, my friend Todd said the same thing to me. I knew that it was the only thing I should say to this young man. We talked and joked for a minute or two. He then proceeded to go back to his friends.

It’s crazy sometimes how things work out. I lose a friend’s fish, a guy looses my fish. My friend stays calm about it, I think about that and manage to stay calm. Life lessons are always found in the things we work hard at, whether we are successful or failures. I hope that if the same thing happens to this guy, he will respond in the same way that my buddy caught me; after all, it is just a fish. I hate to say it Todd, but losing your fish was a great thing to happen.