Pacemaker Fishing Forum

Marathon muskie trip
Capt Nick and I have had a trip in the books for over a year now. The full moon in June was a time we set aside a few years ago as one of the better times to go chase Potomac Muskie. Nick and I have only met once before and that was through a fishing website where we met on the Potomac River for an all day smallmouth float in a section new to both of us. So we both knew the other person was as keen as ever and would put in the effort to get the job done. Nick has two sons older than me but I think he saw something in my eyes during our last trip that told him I was hell bent on finding a muskie, no matter what it took. They are a fish I've been chasing all my life. I've fished alongside my brother as kids many times in Canada when he has landed numerous true strain Muskie and all I've managed were bass. Then this affliction continued on through adult hood. In the last few years however, I've gone a little extreme. Spending hundreds of dollars at Ebay for individual muskie lures hand made in Wisconsin or driving all night to meet a guide on the St. Lawrence River at sunrise. However, in the last few years a fishery has developed in my own back yard and I've had one or two encounters in my toothy predecessor. Two encounters in two years you ask? Yes, that's muskie fishing. I felt like I was getting closer to unlocking the code.

It had been a few years, and a lot of research, guided trips, emails and aerial photographs have been studied in preparation for this trip. Nick had bought a jet boat even. Actually it was a 16 or 17 foot 1970 starcraft fit for the bay but it came equipped with a jet. I had run the section of water we were going to fish with a prop, but it was very difficult at low summer flow and it took a very long time to navigate past the rock ledges. My 14' boat is light enough where I can easily jump out and drag the boat over the ledges if I have to. I had told Nick that I would do that with his boat if we needed to.

So we met at the Ramp on Friday at 4pm. The water levels however were dead low, much lower than I had ever seen them. We had checked a few USGS graphs and knew that it was low, but not being familiar with that section of the river or the river gauges, I didn’t really know what to think. Nick had phoned one graph, the one I hoped he wouldn’t see and it read “1.8’ and falling.” Nick was very concerned as he said he would never fish the Susquehanna at 1.8’. I told him not to worry. The gauges a little farther down river were much higher. The plan was to fish most of the night, or all night and head home sometime tomorrow morning or early afternoon. I had hoped we would make it back to our cars sometime that night and crash at the ramp and repeat the same trip the next morning. We met right on time as good fishermen know not to hold the other up. Opened up the jet outboard in 3 feet of water and then all of a sudden not 200 yards from the ramp this thing comes flying out of the water and almost knocks Nick out. The motor had bounced out of the water from either hitting a rock or who knows what. We pulled over, noticed no water coming out of the "pee hole" and thought we had a bigger problem. The hose was just clogged. Fixed that and we are on our way, but only at half power. Somehow the collision cut us down to only one cylinder.

We past the first of 4 rock ledges that I remembered that were going to be "tricky." We made up the first and second. Then the engine starts working right and we're flying at 30mph in 1 foot of water cringing when I look over the side at all the rocks. We were heading for a long deep pool only accessible by float craft most of the time and certainly at these levels. This one pool had produced muskie sightings for both of us in the past and we knew this was our best shot if we could just get there. We never thought it would have been that difficult to do. Just before we made it to our spot we hit another rock or the engine just came flying out of the water. This time much more violently and again, almost knocked nick out. It flipped up so hard that it broke the wing nut where the engine is attached to the transom and wedged it’s self in the up position where we were unable to release it. I tried getting out in waste deep water and fooling with it but it was no use. What to do? Go home? Heck no. I just had to drag the boat another 20 yards over some sharp shallow ledges and then we’d be in the deep water and could use the trolling motor. Nick had just assumed we would sleep on the boat. We were both a little concerned on how we would make it back down river with no engine in the dark but I tried not to show it. That’s a story itself that I’ll try to shorten up.

We’re finally in the muskie pool and anticipation is higher than ever. We make a few drifts with nothing to show for it. It’s getting dark and the fish aren’t there. IT’s in the 90’s and the water temp readings we were getting from a portable fish finder were in the mid 80’s. That’s just too hot for muskie.

As soon as I switched from plugs to an 8 inch inline muskie marabou muskie killer that we had our first encounter. This fish smashed the lure after two turns of the handle on a long cast. I knew right away we had a good fish and screamed for the net. The net was something I got up in the Thousand islands and practiced picking up both my sons with. It’s enormous, big enough for VW’s. I wasn’t taking any chances since I’ve lost these fish boat side before because of an insufficient net. I was a little excited with this fish and may not have fought it the way I should have. These fish are cunning and often run at you at light speed. Their body profiles are built for short bursts of speed that can change direction in a blink of an eye. My ichthyology book refers to the fish as a “Lie and wait predator.” So in my panic and confusion, we lost the fish near the boat. The hook had just pulled. Two inline treble hooks pull out? How is that possible? I don’t know but I’ve been there before. I screamed loud enough for my kids to hear me back home, 60 miles away. I’m added more than a few choice words.

Later we encountered another fish, about an hour later in the same spot. This was on similar large spinner bait and the fish hit boat side, practically with the lure out of the water but it never hooked up. Both fish looked similar in size, juvenile’s maybe, 30-36 inches maybe.

Darkness finally came and we were fishless. It was time to negotiate numerous ledges, deadfalls and rapids and at night without an engine. This was not going to be fun. I convinced nick it would be okay and I would get out of the boat, in the dark and guide it through the ledges at the deeper spots. The moon didn’t help us until after 10pm as it had to pass the trees. But once it did, she looked as beautiful as ever lit up the river like as if it were dawn. We had drifted for a few miles in the dark; I was wet, tired and discouraged. I had fished hard the entire way and Nick had settled in for bed lying sideways across the boat with a mound of clothes as a pillow. It was near midnight when were nearing a favorite walleye spot with a spring creek influence. The creek empties into a shallow flat and then quickly drops off to 10 feet with very swift current. It had been a long night and I said to heck with muskie and picked up the walleye rod which sometimes doubles as a light tackle jigging striper rod, rigged with 10 pound fire line and a 12 pound floro leader tied to a 3 inch long deep diving shad rap. I cast right to the outflow of the creek and snagged bottom two turns later. Wait, not bottom, it’s moving. Nick says it’s a big walleye, no, no it’s a muskie I told him. Drag still spewing, I say it’s a muskie, no walleye can do this. He says no, I say…then this thing comes out of the water like a tarpon. The most impressive tail walk jump I’ve ever seen. No doubt what it was now. The fight of my life had begun. The moment I quit fishing for muskie I luck into one? That’s just how it happens I guess. The fish had the torque of a striper and the acrobats of a steelhead. This fished lived up to all my expectations and more. We were anchored in the fast water and the fish was dangerously close to the anchor line. I did my best to convince it to change course and somehow it worked. Nick had the net in the water to make the first attempt. Somehow the fish dives below the net and burst into life with a second wind. I’ve been in this situation two times over the last few years up in Canada with a 50 inch fish. They almost play dead at first but once they see that net it’s as if they get cattle prodded and explode into life again. But somebody was looking out for me that day. The second time the fish nears the net, Nick makes a calculated move and I have my trophy. They cannot bottle that kind of adrenaline or feeling once you’ve caught a fish you’ve fantasized about all your life. I’ll never forget June 25th, 2010. Nick kept fishing but all I could do was sit back and enjoy the moment for a minute or 20. I couldn’t fish. I couldn’t tie a knot. I was shaking too hard. I think I’ll re read this report 20 times over the next week just to relive the experience. Now all I can think about is when can I do it again. It’s a drug and I think I’m already addicted. Thanks for putting in the time Nick. I’ll never forget.

After sometime we were able to revive the fish and she swam away on her own. I wanted more pictures but with the water so warm, catch and release mortality is high. Most true muskie fishermen stop targetting the fish as the water temps get above 75 or so. It still can be done in warm weather but extra care and experience are needed to insure a succussfull release. I'll probably edit this story a few times and add more photos over the next few days. My son is pulling at my arm as I type.

Last edited by Salmo (Jun-28-10 1:26PM)