Going Solo

I think of it a socialist fishing. Some would say it is a communal effort towards a common goal with possible personal reward. Anglers pile into a boat (two or more), drag lines behind with various lures attached in hopes of catching a fish. Trolling. Don’t get me wrong, I troll often. In big water like Lake Michigan, it is the most efficient way to find and catch fish. I have had much success in Door County waters trolling for salmon, trout (Brown, and Rainbow), northerns, walleye, even smallmouth bass. Imagine going out with a spinning rod “somewhere” on Lake Michigan in the summer and casting for several hours expecting to tie into a Chinook Salmon. Insane. Trolling works to put fish into the boat. Also, spending time on the water with like-minded people is a great way to spend a morning, afternoon or evening. I have trolled in waters from the Pacific Ocean to the Canadian Northwoods. I have trolled for pike in Ireland and trout on Lake Titicaca in Boliva and enjoyed each of those unique experiences. No, the issue I have with trolling is when catches made trolling are compared to the catches of a lone angler. They are just different. You need to consider each of these with a different lens. Consider this case in point; About five years ago, a teenager, Luis Martinez, fishing with his family on a charter, was credited with catching a Michigan State Record Chinook Salmon, 47.86 pounds and measuring 47.5 inches. This was the young man’s first salmon. In fact, this was his first time fishing for salmon ever. Probably the only reason Luis was on the rod for this fish is that it was his “turn”. When I first learned about this, I was envious and struck by how unfair fishing is. Think of some guy who has been fishing all his life and has never caught a fish like that (I know of one). I got to thinking, who should really get credit for boating that fish? Luis Martinez’s name is in the record book, but who was most responsible for him catching that fish? Was it Luis handling a salmon for the first time? Was it the charter captain who put the boat in the right place and at the right speed? Was it the person who selected the tackle and lures they used that day? How much credit should the mate get for walking Luis through the process and netting this huge fish? Anyone who has netted salmon knows it takes technique, skill and some luck to bag a big fish. Or should it be the person who arranged and paid for the charter? I’m pretty sure this was not on Luis’ tab. The answer is they all had a part in successfully boating that fish. If any one of the party members had not done their job, the fish would probably not be in the boat, and the young Mr. Martinez would not be the Michigan record holder. It was a communal effort. They all participated in the catch. Socialist fishing.

When I troll with one other person, we alternate turns as to who will be on the rod. To be honest, I enjoy the challenge of netting a big fish almost as much as fighting one. We both take satisfaction in getting the fish in the boat. Often we don’t, and then we both feel the disappointment. Each of us participates in the catch, win or lose. When larger trolling groups are involved, a protocol must be instituted to determine who “catches” the next fish. Typically, the honor of the first fish is given to the least experienced angler, as was obviously the case with the fortunate Mr. Martinez. This is a benevolent socialism. Often, the order of the anglers is done by lots. This creates a totally random process similar to the Roman democratic socialism. At other times the captain or the person who paid for the trip unilaterally decides who grabs the rod. Kind of an autocratic socialism. At any rate, all those on board who took any active part can say that they participated in the catch of each and every fish. So, when I hear some angler boasting about how they “caught” a huge fish on one of our local charters, I smile and congratulate the angler, but inside I am thinking “Well, you participated in the catch.”

The only way, in my opinion, one can honestly say they “caught” a fish trolling is if they are trolling by themselves. Trolling solo is a unique challenge, particularly with multiple lines. Wisconsin allows up to 3 lines per angler when trolling. Setting these lines while controlling the boat is demanding. Planer boards and downriggers make the task even more taxing. Netting a fish with the net in one hand and the rod in the other is tricky. Add in winds, waves and currents and the challenge is daunting. I enjoy this challenge.

So it was that one day last week I set out solo to troll for salmon on the big lake. It was early in the morning on a warm and humid summer day. I say early in a relative sense. By the time I got to the marina, most of the salmon anglers, including the charter boats, had long since left. The sun was illuminating the eastern sky but had not yet broken the horizon. The winds were light and variable, perfect for the solo troller. I backed the trailer into the glassy water of the marina and launched the Maggie Liegh. After parking in the designated lot next to the fire station, I walked back to the boat with burgeoning excitement. Everything felt right. I felt confident that is trip would produce fish. I just hoped I could handle all the tasks required.

As I motored eastward out of Baileys Harbor, I could see boats already fishing on the horizon. I was a bit late to the party. As I passed the Olde Baileys Harbor Lighthouse, I felt the warmth of the sun’s first rays on my left shoulder. Leaving the shelter of the bay, I could sense some legacy swells left over from last night’s winds, but only small waves remained on the lake’s surface. The conditions were excellent for solo trolling. I got out to about 100-feet of water and lowered my Fish Hawk probe to get a sense of the water temperature profile. The surface temperature was 67°F.  The water column was warm down to fifty feet. Below that the water got colder and at seventy feet it is was close to 50°F. I decided to deploy two downriggers and eschew the third line. I wanted to keep the set-up simple. I would use a spoon on one line and a fly-dodger combo on the other downrigger line. I adjusted my speed to about 2.5 MPH, steered southward and settled in for a comfortable morning of fishing. As I waited for the first hit, I intently watched the two rods arched over under the weight of the trolling ball. They would pop-up and start pulsating when a salmon hit and free the line from the release. As I waited, my mind wandered to the many other fish I had caught in these same waters. Most of them were caught socialist fishing with friends and family, but a few I had been caught solo. I recalled my first charter trip out of Baileys Harbor on the First Choice. I had booked that trip through Lakeshore Adventures for myself and several teaching colleagues. That was one of my first lessons on trolling technique. I was more interested in observing the captain position and adjust the speed than I was about catching fish. I watched intently as the mate paid out the lines and kept them from getting tangled with each other. Looking back on my records, we boated nine fish that day and lost six others (9 for 15). I know I learned a lot about boat handling and netting salmon that day.

I had been trolling for about two hours with no action when I noticed one of the lines coming off the downrigger was acting “funny”. It was not jiggling like a typical “shaker”. Probably I had picked up some floating weeds on my line. I pulled the rod out of the rod holder, gave it a sharp jerk releasing it from the cable and reeled it in.  Something still felt different. It was not pulsating with life, it just seemed a little heavier. Likely weeds. As the dodger got within sight, I spotted something hanging from the trailing fly. It was a fish. A small Chinook Salmon, 19-inches, that had hit the fly but not hard enough to spring the release. The poor fish was bedraggled after being hauled through the water for who knows how long. I cranked the fish in and flopped it into the boat. No net needed.

I fished for another hour with no more action. My solo trolling adventure had produced just that one small fish. I was disappointed. I am sure the fish was disappointed as well as it languished in my live well. Its day had not gone as it had planned. Perhaps it too had decided to separate itself from the school. Maybe it was tired of living off the scraps left behind by the other, bigger salmon. Today was its day to head out on its own. He would be its own salmon. Well, how did that worked out. It became my dinner.

Perhaps if I could have deployed more lines I would have done better. One more angler, three more lines. I could have covered more depths. Maybe if Paul was along, I would have made better lure choices. At the very least I would have had company and help handling the boat. You know, maybe that socialist fish is a good idea afterall.

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, Bruce

Questions or comments to bsmith733@gmail.com