Walleye Stories

Maiden Voyage

 I felt that tell-tale bump, and that was all I needed to set the hook, putting a good bend in my rod.

“Now remember, we’re going for walleye, not stick bass” my brother-in-law, John, said smirking, expecting me to pull a moss covered tree limb from the depths. 

 The rod began to twitch, and my line detached from the downrigger clip as I killed the motor.  A few moments later, I saw the white flash of a fish turning, a big fish, fighting the inevitable.  It saw it was an easy twenty inches, scooped it with a net, and quickly pulled it inside the boat. 

“Even a blind pig gets a kernel of corn every once in a while,” John said, more than a little bitter that I had caught the first fish of the day.  It was one hog of a walleye---exactly the kind of walleye John swore we wouldn’t catch today, in the middle of summer.  He didn’t look to see me pull my crankbait out of its mouth, or to see where it hit the measuring tape-a thick 23 inches. 

John was far from my first pick to take fishing today, and in fact, wasn’t my pick at all.  This was my maiden voyage on the first boat I’d ever owned.  My regular fishing buddy had something come up and everyone else was busy.  I thought I would have to go fishing by myself; that is, until my wife got on the phone with her sister.  They had the perfect solution to my problem, and passed John like a hot potato so they would be free to go shopping. 

 To be honest, I would’ve rather had my mother-in-law in the boat. 
(read best walleye lakes in Michigan)

I was determined to keep him from spoiling the day with his negativity and nonstop boasting, but I knew I had to keep ahead of him on the fishing or I might wish I was at work.  So far, I was off to a good start.

The next few hours of fishing wasn’t what I would consider fast by any means, but by nine o’clock, I was up on John---my five walleye in the livewell, against his two (three if you count the shorty I made him throw back, despite his claim that it was ‘close enough.’) 

The sun was getting high in the sky, and it was obviously going to be a warm one.   John was begging to go home, saying it would just keep getting slower as time went on.  This was too slow for him, plus he hadn’t held up on his promise of outfishing me, and didn’t want his ego bruised any more. 

Maybe I should have put the boat up on the trailer since John had eaten his words, and we had enough to walleye for a good meal.  I just couldn’t help myself and told John, “I just want to try one more spot.”

“You’re wasting your time,” he grumbled, tipping his hat over his eyes and leaning back.

My spot was out in the middle of the lake, in about forty foot of water.  There was a little structure, and a little current going through.  Nothing that would jump out at you, but I’d caught fish there before and had a good feeling about it today.

I put on a jig tipped with a minnow, and let it plummet to the bottom.  It finally settled, and I began to give it a little sporadic twitch, every now and then, as we drifted over a small depression in the lake bottom.  (read jigging for walleye

My line had been in the water for a few minutes when John started in about wasting time when I felt that tap.  I blocked John out as I waited to make sure the hook was where I wanted, and pulled up, nearly doubling my pole over. 

“Snagged again?” John critiqued.  “Might as well cut your line and call it a day.” 

I couldn’t help but look at him and grin when whatever was on the line started pulling back.