Some Fishy Excuses

It's mid-winter, and two long hours on my snowblower this morning left me with a sore back and an article idea. And, for whatever the reason, I dreamed up this story idea. It's as timely now as during  any other season.

I've chased muskies in many widely-spaced locations. Most of these trips have been in Michigan, Wisconsin or Ontario, and I've sampled the pleasures of these great game fish in other states as well.

I fished for, caught and lost muskies in Kentucky, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, New York, Quebec and several other places. I'm always fascinated with some of the lame excuses anglers, myself included, have uttered for losing big fish.

 

Someone who is a known angler, and is trying to protect his sterling reputation may call a lost fish "a professional release." Another one may call it a "long-distance" release. Both may have some elements of truth to them, but often other reasons cause people to lose a fish.

Landing big muskies like this demand skill some luck.

We've heard all the common excuses. People have been known to blame too much sun for weakening their line, and one guy offered up the excuse that storing his reels with heavy monofilament near the furnace said nearby ozone weakened his line, which caused him to break off on a big fish one day in Ontario's Lake of the Woods.

Anyone who has cast all day with big jerkbaits or spinnerbaits speak of having a sore arm and wrist from the tiring repetitive exercise of continuous casting. They blame their missed fish on a weak wrist. "My wrist didn't have enough strength left to set the hooks properly." O-o-o-o-K.

Most muskie addicts I know use their whole body to set the hook, and not just once. My tactic is to pound the hook home at least twice.

There are thousands of reasons why people miss muskie strikes. The major reason is people often are asleep with their eyes open. They've become lulled into daydreaming by inactivity and begin nodding off while fishing. They come back with some hair-brained excuse such as:

I laid my rod down with the lure in the water to fire up a smoke. (A good reason to quit which I later did.) Many others are midway through a cast, and as the lure leaves the rod tip, they notice the snap swivel is still open after switching lures. Guess which cast the biggest muskie of the year will hit?

Don't fall asleep with your eyes open while muskie fishing.

You've noticed the line is frayed, and figured: "Hey, the fish aren't hitting. I'll make another cast before tying it again." So, that's when a muskie hits and when anglers lose the lure and the fish. Sometimes, though not often enough, the muskie isn't hooked. He opens his mouth and the lure bobs to the surface, giving anglers time for a spiffy quote. "Boy, look at that. She give me my lure back."

I was fishing Tomahawk Lake in Wisconsin one time, and my buddy and I were working a weed line. I was working a jerkbait, and he was buzzing a spinnerbait, when a muskie was spotted behind my jerkbait. The fish smacked it as it rose to the surface, and I set the hook.

The fish didn't have the lure, and that deadly missile with hooks came flying out of the water at my friend's face who was turned slightly away. I stuck out my hand to keep the big Suick from hitting him in the face. That buried two hooks in my hand, and I muttered some not-nice words while he pulled the hooks out. We poured some iodine in the wounds, put Band-Aids on them, and went back to fishing. Muskie fishermen are tough, and sometimes a bit nuts.

Landing any muskie by hand is a good way to get hooked in the hand or arm.

Another guy and I was fishing at night once for Northern muskies in a Michigan lake, and there can be a coincidence between casting after dark and getting a backlash. He was working on what appeared to be a huge backlash (a.k.a., professional over-run), and his muskie-size Jitterbug lay idle on the surface 20 feet away. He pulled on one of the loops, and it twitched the lure and the line, and the Jitterbug jittered on the surface. A big muskie slammed that lure, gave a vicious yank, and the line broke.

So who is going to believe a guy who says a big muskie hit while he was untangling a backlash? No one except someone who has had it happen to them once or twice.

My wife barely had this Lake Of The Woods muskie hook when it was landed.

I was fishing on a trolling boat on Michigan's Lake St. Clair for muskies one  time, and we were using Homer LeBlanc's method of keeping lures in or very close to the prop wash. One rod on each stern corner is a "down" rod, and it has a heavy weight to keep the lure about six feet behind the boat in the most violent part of the prop wash.

I was bored, and decided to hold the rod instead of leaving it in the rod holder where it belonged. I was looking around at all of the lines when a muskie hit my lure and nearly yanked me overboard. The fish took out 50 yards of line and stayed deep, the sign of a big fish. We eventually brought in all lines, and stopped the boat so I could fight the fish.

Fifteen minutes went by and the fish stayed deep, and then the line started to rise in the water. The fish rolled on the surface, and we'd already landed a 30-pounder and this fish was bigger than the earlier one. It stayed 30 feet behind the boat, and then it rolled on the tight line, and the hooks fell out.

How big was it? Thirty-five pounds, probably, and it could have been even heavier. I looked around, everyone looked at me, and no one spoke until I broke the lengthy silence.

"How can someone have a muskie on for 20 minutes only to lose it right behind the boat and just out of netting range? It must have sprung the snap swivel or broke off a hook."

Yeah, sure, everybody looked away and we began setting lines again as I checked the lure. There were no sprung or broken hooks and the snap swivel was intact. The whole secret to this muskie fishing game is to come up with an original excuse that no one has heard before.

It never works but it makes us feel better if we have a "lost-fish" story prepared ahead of time for just such an occasion. Just make it original, never offer up a story that been used for so many years that even such famous guides as the legendary Homer LeBlanc of Lake St. Clair fame wouldn’t dream of using it.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors