As I type this post, I am painfully reminded of one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my outdoor experiences---this ranks with trying to pin down and catch rattlesnakes when I was younger. Photos at the end will explain.
After a slow day on Melton Hill for musky and the Clinch for trout and stripers on Friday...I was determined for redemption. While I was in Knoxville, I did manage to get to spend time with my buddy John, and we grabbed some baits at Edgemore Bait and Tackle---one of the last small town well-stocked tackle shops out there.
"They have Weagles!" A GIANT spook for musky that I have been wanting to buy for a long time...the $25 price tag always kept me from buying one...but now I felt good about supporting such a great shop--$50 dollars later, I had 2 new additions to my arsenal.
For size reference:
Drove home from Knox, 4 hours sleep---3:00 AM, I'm out the door to chase Boone lake stripers and hybrids. I launched into the Foggy lake, and motored to my favorite May feeding grounds....and NOTHING, not a peep, not a splash, no bait like last year--- NADA...just quiet fog and random irritable geese. Loaded the boat and headed toward Greeneville at 8AM, and decide to hit the Noli for the Muskies (that have been so elusive and stubborn the past 2 yrs). The clouds were hanging low, and the light was perfect...casting a glow on the water. The water was electrified and the bait was nervous. I was afraid to leave the striper gear in the car, so I loaded the extra box in the small boat. Darn! I didn't bring the Musky net...just have the one I use for stripers.
As I creep the crawdad boat down the bank, and hook up the motor, I witnessed a Surface Massacre! I watched a muskie pop a baitfish out of the water, turn around lightning fast and explode a hole in the river with half it's tail and stripes slashing the surface....I knew it was going to be a good day.
So I earnestly rigged up my giant Orange Weagle ( that looks more like a Summer Sausage with hooks). This thing lands like a wet Nerf football in the water..but I really loved the SWOOSH it made on the splashy wide wakes.
I cast all around the area where the chaos had unfolded, without any luck. Upstream, downstream I now trolled and cast every nook where that fish may have gone. Then, on a long upstream cast midchannel in the river...KaPloosh! the same hellacious splash now erupted on my bait.
The fish wrestled and rolled, somersaulted, then calmed down. He pulled my Crawdad in circles a few rounds then I finally netted him. I'm kicking myself for only having the smaller Striper net. Luckily, it was adequate for this fish, about a tad over 40". He was hooked across the top of the head, and I really felt bad how the trebles had got him. I hopped in on a sandbar and kept the net in the water and the fish stayed reasonably calm, and still green. A few tugs later, he was free, but he now has two scars on the back of his head Carved like initials in his skull! I'll have a way to recognize him when he gets bigger.
When I eased him out of the net, he bolted...splashing me with a good face full of river.
I motored up and waded the boat through some shoals to some more deep water. At the next good logjam, the Weagle got Hammered again! Another amazing LOUD splash, and a nice old river musky came head thrashing out of the clear water. He spun and turned, and I knew there was no way I could net this guy. He calmed down as I eased the tension, so I took a few photos on my belt clipped Pentax camera. Then he stared thrashing half out the water as I got him boatside. I got the Boga to his lips a few times, but he kept those jaws clamped shut. Finally, he shook the lure and swam off strong--- to my relief! Getting a big musky in by yourself in an undersized boat overloaded with gear and a net too small is not the ideal scenario. I estimated him about 47" I remember him from past seasons---scaring the fire out of me while chasing my flies. It was nice to see him up close.
The sun came out to a beautiful day, I worked some new water that looked great, but no fish were not visible where I would expect to find them. I was so content from the two great fish that I was blessed to finally encounter.
As I floated some shoals back towards the truck, I grabbed the fly rod for the last stretch of deep green water. I concentrated on a deeper hole in the middle of the river. I let the fly sink deep, and on a quick retrieve out of the depths, as the fly came into view, another musky bolted out from under the boat and crushed the fly! He immediately came out of the water and gave two great jumps. I pulled him in strong, and he calmed down beside the boat. A few photos later, I noticed the fly was hanging on a membrane of tissue that had made a small tear on the outside of his face.
"Good! I wont have to net him....just a quick tug and He'll be released." That was the beginning of the dumbest thought I've had in a long time. My boga, pliers and net were all at the back of the crowded boat that was reshuffled before I ran some rapids.
The laziness of not grabbing for the tools, and the quick decision of seeing the calm, docile musky in the water led me to grab for the fly head to yank it quicky to pop it off.
No such luck! the fish exploded and thrashed the fly into my hand, and in a quick turn the fly was loose from its mouth.
Now imbedded in the meat of my left index finger was a fully buried 4-0 600SP semicircle hook that wasn't going to back out.
STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!
Never again will I approach a musky so foolishly.
I grabbed the Knipex bolt cutters and clipped the hook, then grabbed some pliers to spin it forward until it penetraed out on a curve. I wasn't going to spend my Saturday in an ER. Bleeding like a stuck pig, I wrapped the finger in some wipes. The storm clouds on the horizon also signaled that it was time to go. I loaded everything up, sped off to Walgreens for a Tetanus shot, some antibiotics, gauze and peroxide, and now I'm good to go.
It was an amazing day of musky fishing that I've paid plenty of dues to earn. It was also a stern lesson in being prepared for these fish. Those topwater busts will keep me fired up for several more trips to come.
Good luck this spring everyone,
Travis
