When Is the Best Time to Fish?

When you can. That’s it. You can stop reading now. That’s all you need to know about when to go fishing.

Yea, I know that are lots of opinions and theories out there about when is the best time to catch fish. Some would say you should consult the solunar cycles, taking heed of the moon phases. Others will insist that high and low pressure trends dictate when to go fishing. Some anglers look for just the right wind direction (“Wind from the south, blows the bait in the fish’s mouth”) or an approaching weather system. Still others contend that the only time to fish is the low light conditions of dawn and dusk. Like any avid angler, I have considered all of these. I have closely tracked the factors during the times I have experienced great fishing action as well as times when I got skunked. In my well over six decades of catching and not catching fish, I have found no set of parameters a consistent harbinger of potential fishing success. I have had success and failure under all of these conditions. The suite of factors involved in determining whether you catch a fish or not is complex. So much so, that trying to figure it out can consume one’s life. Or cause you to just give up. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I do think that making use of all available information that could affect fish behavior will increase your chances of success. However, the only irrefutable maxim that I have ever adhered to about fishing is that if you don’t go, you won’t catch fish. I only consider two factors when I decide to go fishing. The weather and my life. If the weather is not horrible and the other important things in my life (wife, family, community) do not prevent it, I go fishing. I don’t even check the solunar tables. 

This recent fall period is a great case in point. As I documented in my previous post in this space, the weather, particularly the wind, has conspired to keep me and many of my fishing buddies off the water. However, in the last few weeks, the weather improved, and period of fishable weather lay before us. I tried to take full advantage knowing that a potentially harsh winter is on the horizon. I called Terry and arranged a day of fishing walleyes on the Fox River in DePere. I caught one perch. Terry got nothing. We had a wonderful day. A day later I headed over to Egg Harbor targeting smallmouth bass. Conditions were perfect and this time of the year should be great for big smallies. I never got a hit. Undaunted, Paul and I made a trip to Rowleys Bay and trolled for several hours hoping to tangle with some big pike or perhaps an early brown trout. We got nothing but a lot of sun and fresh air. Following a tip from fellow angler Jeff that he had caught some nice brown trout recently, I convinced Paul that we should target browns in Baileys Harbor. Despite no docks in the marina, Paul and I managed (just) to launch and we eventually trolled from Baileys Harbors south toward Jacksonport. Three and a half hours later, we had covered all topics of conversation from sports to politics to the best places to eat but had put no fish in the boat. As Paul and I stood a bit dejected at the marina, we considered fishing the following day. The weather was going to be fishable. But hey, the Packers are playing, maybe we should get some exercise instead, and anyway, the fish apparently are not biting. What to do? Of course, we went fishing. Why? Because we could. 

The next day Paul and I headed north in hopes of finding brown trout and maybe a bass or two. As we motored out of the marina under sunny skies and light winds, we could see two other boats in the area. They seemed to targeting smallmouth. This being the opening weekend of the deer gun hunting season, there were more people in the woods than on the water. Paul and I commenced our well-practiced routine. As Paul positioned the boat and adjusted the trolling speed, I set about deploying our brace of six lines. I affixed a variety of lures ranging from shallow running Rapalas and Thundersticks to deeper diving FlickerShads. Some were bright colored orange and fire tiger while others were natural colors and, of course, purple. Purple can be very effective in the gin-clear northern Door waters. Within a few minutes, the lures were gliding enticingly through the water. Paul and I settled in to pick up our conversation from yesterday. 

Almost immediately I noticed an outer planer board jerk backwards. Excitedly, I grabbed the rod out of the holder before I realized that the diving lure had just struck the bottom. It was not a fish. I decided I should check the bait for debris but that, of course, required me to pull in the other two lines on that side of the boat. Reluctantly, I did so. I was in the process of redeploying the starboard lines when a portside rod stated to pulsate. Fish on!!! Paul took control of the rod. It was a big fish. I steadied the boat and got the landing net ready. It was then that I noticed one of the newly deployed lines on the starboard side was showing signs of life. I picked up the rod, and sure enough, we had a double. It also seemed like a good fish. Paul and I have dealt with many of these situations and we have learned that when dealing with multiple fish, you must prioritize. Focus on getting one fish in the boat, then turn your attention to the other. If you try to do too much at one time, it is more likely you will lose both fish. So, since Paul’s fish seemed larger, we decided to concentrate on getting that fish in the boat. As Paul battled the fish, I held the net ready, all the while trying to keep tension of the other active line. Soon a chocolate brown shape appeared at the side of the boat. It was a big brown trout. I slipped the net under the fish and Paul and I, with some effort, lifted it into the boat. I immediately turned my attention to the other fish. Fortunately, it was still hooked. As Paul frantically worked to clear the fish and the lure for the landing net. I eased another big brown trout to the side of the boat. In the nick of time, Paul managed to transfer the first fish to the waiting live well and was ready with the landing net. The brown made a couple of manic lunges before Paul scooped it into the net. We had boated both fish. We exchanged handshakes, backslaps and smiles.  The fish were two egg-engorged female trout. Paul’s weighed nearly 20-pounds and was 35-inches in length.  My “little one” was over seventeen and a half pounds and measured 33 inches. It was quite a double. After a few quick pictures and measurements, both fish were successfully released. It was with much satisfaction that we watched the two fish slowly swim back to the depths of the bay. We had been on the water for less than a half an hour and we had put more fish in the boat than our last four trips combined.  And we weren’t done. By the end of the afternoon, we had boated a beautiful, hook-jawed male brown trout weighing in at fourteen and half pounds. We also managed three nice smallmouth, the largest being 21-inches and 5.5 pounds. All the fish we released to get busy making more baby fish. There is a healthy fishery in Door County, and we want to keep it that way.

Needless to say, Paul and I were quite happy that despite our recent lack of success and misgivings, we had followed our maxim. You should go fishing when you can, don’t over think it. Oh, by the way, the Packers won.

As a postscript to this saga, I connected with Terry the very next day in DePere. Because we could. We trolled for the elusive Esox masquinongy along the Fox River along with a bevy of fellow muskie hunters. . We did boat a muskie that day. It was not a huge fish, a mere 31-inches, but it was the first muskie I have caught in almost eight years. It was very gratifying. 

The weather has turned cruel again. The temperatures are falling, and snow will soon be in the forecast. However, the Maggie Leigh is still ready and waiting in the garage for the next fishing trip. When will that be? Whenever I can. 

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, Bruce

Questions or comments to bsmith733@gmail.com