“Bring a jacket, it’s cold out here,” said fellow IDO Pro-staffer Grant Sorenson. Meanwhile, I’m up the hill wiping sweat from my brow while I got ready to meet him only a few short miles away. Like the weather in the greater Duluth, MN area, fishing on Lake Superior isn’t always what it seems. Sure it was a weekday, but the landing was dead. A beautiful day on the lake, devoid of much traffic at all. Surely the bite must be off. Fish must not be here yet right? Contrary to the look of things, there were fish to be had, and Grant was having them. After a few short trolling runs before I could make it down to the Lake, Grant was “3-for-5.” Trout and Salmon-speak for three Coho’s made it boat-side. Pretty darned good from my perspective, especially for only being out a bit. Then I climbed in the boat.
Not 15-minutes into our run, 2 fish were hooked up almost simultaneously, and only a short time later, yet another. With my luck however, team Sorenson/Nelson was quickly 0-for-3, and not much of a reason behind it. Yet another fish was pro-released for being a bit on the short-side. Either way, they were there and for the taking. Lots of fish on the graph all over the water-column, mostly in that 60FOW range, but we didn’t need to troll anywhere near that deep. Deep Taildancers 120 feet back were what our fish were eating, all on boards that day to keep baits away from the boat in the clear and relatively calm water.
Not being native to the fishery, and quite a few hours away on most days, I was happy to defer to Grant’s extensive experience on the lake regarding color patterns, bait selections, and other trolling minutia. Tuning crankbaits was something I’d done before, but I was surprised to see exactly how often he checked for tune, especially after tangling with a fish. Especially in the big water, a bait that blows out, spins, then comes top-side is almost undetectable. You “lose” a rod in-effect, and worse, take its spot with something that will never turn a fish. Speaking of moving fish, after our initial flurry and a couple later stragglers, the bite slowed quite a bit. Few to no bites in the late afternoon, compounded with the frustratingly full sonar screen, was too much to take. Time to make a change.
Not only did we switch locations, but we started to change out baits more frequently. Each color and/or size would get its 15 minutes of fame, and move to the bottom of the crank box if it didn’t produce. We stayed busy reeling in board rods, modifying rods from boards to snap weights, and generally just threw the book at them. Sometimes the fish stick it to you, and though we had some good action early, it was looking more bleak by the minute as we turned the boat for the final time towards the harbor. I guess that’s all it took, as we both looked back to see the rod surge, yelling in-unison “FISH, FISH, FISH!” Looking straight back behind the boat the planer board looked like a frisbee skipping across the water. “I think it’s a King,” yelled Grant, taking the rod out of the holder while the fish took some serious early runs. I’ve got a camera on him now, trying to both help with the fight, and film at the same time. The board came off pretty well, but took some time, and then the fight was on. 3 serious runs, and we had the fish licked, while I tried to film and net all at the same time. Especially with all of the board rod holders and other junk behind the boat, it was really nice to have Grant’s Frabill Conservation Series Net with the telescoping handle. The big hoop for the nice king, along with that reach made me feel like I could’ve netted that fish from anywhere in the boat! Definitely a worthy addition to any troller’s arsenal.
The shadows were long, and light was fading, so we headed back to shore feeling quite a bit better than we did 30 minutes previous. For a few short hours on the big lake, I was happy to take what it would give, and happier yet just to have another day with another species.
Joel