At Last, Whitefish! (But for How Long?)
As we rumbled out onto the ice of Green Bay, where in a normal winter, we would gaze out over a sprawling “WhitefishTown”, all that could be seen was a modest whitefish hamlet, comprised of about a dozen dark red guide shacks surrounded by a menagerie of blue Clams, red Eskimos and black Frabills. A sad collection of meager shelters filled with anglers desperate to get the whitefish season started. I have written in the past about WhitefishTown, the “city of close to 200 buildings and over 1000 residents stretching for miles.” In previous years, this seasonal metropolis would be bustling with anglers venturing out three miles or more on the Green Bay ice to whitefish hotspots in nearly one hundred feet of water. Not this year. Our guide, Captain J.J. Malvitz, had prudently placed his shacks as far out as he could under safe solid ice. This meant that we would be fishing within sight of the Sherwood Point lighthouse in less that 50FOW. This is a popular early season spot, but typically by February most anglers would have abandoned it for better prospects. As I gazed out over the fractured, disheveled ice sheet, where each winter WhitefishTown would rise, all I could see was one small group of anglers. They were in an ice boat.
Our ATV pulled up next to one of the red shacks and we clamored into its heated interior. The holes were drilled, rods ready. I got comfortable, poured a cup of coffee, and started fishing. This would be my first shot at the wily whitefish this season. Most normal people (aka non-ice anglers), think of whitefish merely as a tasty meal whose natural habitat is a dinner plate or a boiling kettle. Those of us who attempt to harvest whities by hook and line know it as a formidable gamefish, worthy of any serious angler’s effort. Sure, at times the bite is so good that any nimrod can put numerous whities on the ice. (I’ve seen it!). More often than not, however, whitefish are wary predators who approach an offered bait cautiously and will eat it only if it is exactly to their liking. To consistently catch whitefish in Green Bay you must understand its environment and motivations. To paraphrase the words of the immortal Carl Spackler, “In order to conquer the fish, I have to learn to think like a fish. I’ve gotta get inside this guy’s scales and crawl around for a few days.” In Green Bay, whitefish are primarily driven by one thing: finding and eating Round Gobys. Sure, they will eat other food if the opportunity arises, but it is gobys that sustain the species now. It hasn’t always been this way. In fact, prior to 1993 Round Gobys did not even exist in Lake Michigan. They are one of many invasive species that have entered the Great Lakes and are now a permanent part of the ecosystem. The bottom of Green Bay is littered with gobys and the whitefish have learned how to eat them. Not a trivial task for a fish whose mouth has evolved to prey on minute crustaceans and insects suspended in the water. The whitefish have adapted to take advantage of this abundant food source. Open the stomach of any whitefish harvested out of Green Bay and you will find it filled with gobys. So, if you want to catch whitefish in Green Bay, you have to offer something that looks and behaves like a goby. You have to “be the goby”.
Round gobys are bottom dwellers. They have no swim bladder as most fish do, so they are relegated to stay at or near the bottom of the lake. Whitefish have learned how to pin these critters to rocks and sand and suck them up. The goal is to give the whitefish an easy target for them to eat. Many lures can accomplish this, and area tackle stores are filled with goby imitations. I typically use a dark colored plastic tail attached to a jig head. To be honest, as long as it looks like a small goby, it will likely attract whitefish. The trick then is to get the whitie to eat it. This is best done by sticking to two basic rules: One, keep the jig on or very close to the bottom, and two, always keep it moving. Any pause should be brief. A whitefish will lose interest in a stationary bait. Afterall, real gobys rarely stop moving. All experienced whitefish anglers develop their own technique that they modify to the occasion. I typically will drop the jig to the bottom and jiggle it enticingly. I then lift the jig no more than a foot off the bottom and allow the lure to drop until the line slacks. Jiggle, lift, repeat. A sonar unit will allow you to anticipate a strike, but sometimes the bite is so subtle that the only evidence of a hit is a slight alteration in the angle of the line. The rule is, if something feels or looks different, lift and set the hook!
If you put your hook into a hefty whitefish, you’ll know it. Whitefish are great fighters. Bringing a frantic whitefish up from the depths with a light ice fishing rod is a real challenge. Whether you every get the fish on the ice is a result always in doubt until the last instant. You will see the writhing whitefish in the gin-clear water many dozens of feet away. Large whitefish will make your drag sing. If you do manage to coax the fish to the top of the hole, getting the slimly fish on the ice is tricky. Many whitefish are lost at this point. One of the most satisfying feelings I have while fishing is to see a flopping whitefish on the ice after a long battle. I love catching whitefish.
On this day, fishing buddy Paul and I managed to put twenty whities on the ice. The bite was slow at times with periods of an hour or more with little action. However, we were satisfied with our catch. Many of our fellow anglers did not fare as well this day. J.J.s assistant guides, Justin, Sam, and James provided great companionship and useful tips. We enjoyed a lunch of brats and chips on the ice with our fellow anglers. We left the ice with sixteen whitefish that were taken to Lindal Fisheries for proper cleaning and packaging. It was a very satisfying day.
Alas, this trip may be one of the last of the season. As I type this, the area we fished just several days ago is now open water and floating ice. The warm temperatures and winds have returned putting the rest of the ice fishing season in jeopardy at least for those who want to pursue whitefish in the deeper reaches of Green Bay. The day before we were booked for another outing on the Bay, the Sturgeon Bay Coast Guard had to rescue anglers with an open water rescue. The trip was cancelled and may not be rebooked until next season.
I have gotten out for whitefish a couple of times since, finding good safe ice near the shore at Egg Harbor. I managed to put a few whitefish on the ice including a 26-inch, six-pound brute. I hope to see the outline of WhitefishTown once again appear against the western skyline of Green Bay. However, those days may be fleeting. The Earth is changing and along with it, ice fishing in Green Bay.
