It was Friday afternoon, the last day of fish camp for the year. The weather was rotten. It had been raining all day, squalls had been moving through regularly, it was very windy and there were white caps on the water. I wanted to go fishing, but Max was not interested so he told me to go on by myself and be careful.
We had had a great week at Miles Bay Camp. There were a number of regulars at camp and so the camaraderie had been very enjoyable. We had caught and eaten our limits several times. We had gone over to Obabikon Lake and visited our dads burial site at “The Narrows”. Years earlier, honoring one of his wishes, we had scattered his ashes there. While there, we had our usual ritual of passing a mason jar of good cognac around and having a drink with him. He always gets the last shot as we pour it in the water and have a good cry.
At this point in my life I had responsibilities at work that always seemed to get in the way of fishing so this trip had been long awaited and was special. I had really enjoyed the fishing, it was the last day and I did not want to quit early, regardless of the weather. So out I went.
I fished for a couple of hours with only limited success and kept moving from favorite hole to favorite hole. I finally wound up a couple of hundred yards outside of Thompson Creek, another favorite area. Along the east shore there was a small shallower area about seventy yards long. At the creek end of it there was a thick dead branch sticking out of the water about 2 feet. The wind was blowing in to this branch so once past the rocks on the outside I killed the motor and began fishing. I put a minnow on a 1/8 ounce yellow jig and dropped it to the bottom. Instantly I had a bite and up came a 1/2 pound Perch. In the bucket it went and I put on another minnow and dropped the line again. In a minute I had another perch. Oh, boy this was fun on ultra light gear.
Along about then the wind and rain intensified and almost blew me in to shore. So I started the motor and slowly backed up all the way out to where the rocks are. I even caught another Perch along the way. For the next 1/2 hour I drifted and motored back and forth in the same area and had almost filled 3/4 of the 5 gallon bucket with nice sized perch. I had long ago run out of minnows, but the Perch did not mind. They still hit that little jig. Well, hit is hardly the correct word. Perch fishermen are accustomed to the “tick tick tick” of a Perch bite.
Suddenly, the fun was over and nothing was happening. So I picked up jig and cast it toward the branch in the water. But, because I had been just jigging and not casting, the line on the reel had gotten tangled and when I cast I could see a big looping snarl in the line and that snarl was heading right for the branch. Not wanting to get snagged, the instant the jig touched the watch I closed the bail and jerked and reeled the line to move it away from the branch. Instantly the entire jig and line came flying back through the air about 10 feet and right behind the jig, in mid air, was a big Northern Pike. I go to sleep some nights with that image still in my brain.
Instantly, I open the bail and let the jig sink. In a flash the line tighten and took off away from the boat. Fish on! No wonder the Perch had stopped biting - they were being targeted for dinner by both me and the Northern.
Now I was fishing with an ultra light rod, reel and 4 pound test line so I had to be very cautious if I was going to catch this fish. For what seemed like the next 20 minutes that Northern tried all of her tricks to get off of the line while I fought the elements as much as I fought her. With the wind blown waves crashing over the transom I motored back and forth avoiding the rocks on the outside of the area and the shore and branches on the inside. I would kick the motor in and out of gear and steer with my elbow while I she was using all of her acrobatics to get free. I must have gone back and forth 15 or 20 times.
I was cold, wet, really tired, but excited and filled with adrenalin and finally she came to the top and on her side slid over to the boat. I carefully reached over the side of the boat, grabbed her with my hand and lifted her into the boat. Yep, I did not have a net in the boat. I had been fishing smaller game. As it turned out she was not a giant - only 37 inches and a little over 14 pounds, but probably one of my more memorable adventures.
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