Part One: Fishing with Dad
About 2 weeks ago, I got the news that my father was going to move BACK to Washington State in a couple of months....Darn! I just bought a boat we could both fish out of, and now he won’t be around to chase muskies with me.
I gave him a call, and he agreed to be ready at 5:30 AM last Saturday to be picked up so we could go on a Musky quest while I could still show it to him. My grandfather, and his uncles used to go on and on about muskellunge when he was a child in upstate NY, so he had always dreamed of atleast seeing one: so now it was my job to get him on a few.
We headed out on a later start after backtracking for the boat registration papers and his online VA license.
After a 2.5 hr drive into God’s country, he couldn’t believe the surrounding beauty of this river. “How did you find this place?” He kept asking.
I kept telling him, if I had known it was this nice and this close, I would have come to college up here, then never left.
We launched the Jon boat as the last cool of morning burned off into a clear hot day. The water was empty of other musky boats...but a few canoes/kayakers and rafts passed by without any disturbance to our deep run.
We motored up a ways and fished a deep hole where I’ve spotted good fish before.
Now you have to understand my father...a brain aneurism nearly took his life in the early 90's and several other medical procedures that saved him have steadily weathered away his vision and equilibrium. He is blind in one eye, and only has peripheral vision in his other eye.
It is hard on him to exert himself too hard, but he was so awe-inspired by this place (and to get out of the house), he fished nearly all day without a pause.
I have brought musky to the boat with him before, but it takes a lot for him to be able to see the fish.
We drifted on down a nice stretch casting at rock ledges and weed beds. As we rounded a shelf, I froze when I saw a GOLIATH musky circling around my bait! DAD! DAD! DAD! Do you see him?!!!
A musky over 50 inches about 10 feet directly under the boat circled then disappeared back into the clear green deep water. It still haunts me...A jumbo fish like that is rare...Dad didn’t see it.
About 50 yards down, I’m slinging the fly, and a nice high 30's inch musky is in hot pursuit of the fly, then turns away right at the boat not following the 8. Dad! Do you see him, He’s right there!
My father broke his prescription polarized glasses on the ride over, so no dice, he didn’t see this one either. I could have poked this one with the rod.
We used the trolling motor to double back on another deep channel on the other side of the river. This time with the full bright sun beaming down.
A Nice low 40's musky gives chase to my fly and I get him to turn a few times on a figure 8. All the while calling to my dad to look at the fish.
BINGO! “Wow! I can see him” Dad says. He was impressed to see this beautiful striped fish in the crystal clear water. I had him cast upstream and the fish turned on the bait before swimming off upstream.
A few more drifts, and no more fish seen, so we motored to a shady bank for some sandwiches and a couple beers. It was getting HOT.
I decided to jump in and swim the boat to the next gravel bar to cool off. As I was swimming, I hear Dad say “There’s one! Nice fish... he’s swimming right under the boat.”
I have to admit, I was a little bit nervous having a nice musky and my submerged crotch sharing the same water!
As I swam down to some gravel, we waded in and could see several smallmouth, sunfish and darters cruising in and out of the shallows. I even saw a small musky cruising the flat.
We motored upstream, and I got a look at the fish my dad saw, it was a nice 40" fish laid up in a weed bed, spooking from the boat as we headed upstream.
Rose the smaller fish again on the fly, but now it was hot and time to get off the water.
We stopped for icecream and drove around the hills and valleys to take in the scenery. Later, we fished the evening bite, and I managed to hook into 2 nice fish, with none landed.
First hookup was on topwater (Weagle) literally in the prop wash of a Jackass boat that sped by too close. I threw the cast as a warning shot as he chose the line I was fishing along the bank as his speedway (with the whole freaking river to bypass me..felt like I was on the Caney).
As I was cussing him for ruining the timber line I was fishing, I looked in the water in the foam from his jet drive, and there’s a damn musky head thrashing with my bait in its jaws..2 headshakes later, Fish off! I’m sitting in amazement that he bit in that chaos of the boat wake.
Dad and I had a few more beers in the last light of the evening as we drifted a HUGE weedline toward to ramp. I turn to Dad and Say, “ I wish we could have got one of these fish to the boat. You just never can tell when one’s gonna hit!”
I shit you not, right as I spoke those words, BAM! A fish grabs the fly and starts headshakes into the weeds...the fly come back at me in a tangled up mess after he spits it back at me.
Time to go home, more ready to get back again than ever!
Dad casted toe to toe with me all day, and we both had a ball. About 12 fish spotted and of those 12, 6 follows and 2 hookups. A great day.
