A Fish Story.

I am going to tell you a fish story. A simple one. Not one to try and get you to book trips or to try and teach you something. Just a fishing story.

I love Smallmouth Bass. I started my fishing journey with bass. It has been years since I have chased them with a purpose or had an opportunity to. Here in Michigan there is a lake that is renown for its Smallmouth Bass Fishing. Lake St. Clair.

I have fished a lot of places. And some pretty cool lakes. Lake St. Clair is by far the coolest Stillwater I have ever experienced. This lake is large. Not by Michigan standards, its tiny compared to the Great Lakes. But its large for a PNW native. Can’t quite see the other side of it. The Detroit city scape grazes the horizon on the Southeast end. Canada to the East. The lake is roughly 430 square miles of surface area with an average depth of 11 feet with the deepest natural depth is 24ft. Lake Superior, the largest freshwater lake by surface area on the planet…is 31,700 square miles for comparison. Saint Clair’s bottom is mostly hard packed sand and areas of vegetation and grass beds. The water is warm above 65 degrees, and the water is a saltwater blue and green. A 30 foot channel splits the lake between the two countries and had been used for shipping for over 100 years. The lake connects Lake Huron and Lake Erie and is 6 miles south of Downtown Detroit. It is 22 miles long and about 21 miles wide. A Big Lake for me. One that perfectly sets the stage for the story to come.

It is home to a myriad of species. Over a dozen. From musky, carp, whitefish, even trout, there are catfish, gar, bream, bowfin, walleye, sheepshead, and what we were after…Smallmouth Bass. Plus a few more species. There is no shortage of fish to target and the lake has plenty of water at 10 feet or less which makes fly fishing a very workable method of fishing. These fish see a lot of lures, bass tournaments galore on this lake. Its so large though you feel like you got the place to yourself and everyone keeps a pretty good distance. Not as many people flinging a fly rod out there. We might have been the only ones the two days we were there. Those fish don’t see a lot of flies and they didn’t mind what we threw.

And with that playing in mind, we set out. My son, Kristen, and I, along with Ollie the dog. I had done some homework on the lake and we had a few areas we knew we wanted to check out. The first area was just kind of to warm up and get used to the lake. Then we ventured 2.5 miles out across Anchor Bay to hit the flats on the other side near Strawberry Island and Goose Bay. Tullies and big sand bars, coves, bays and peninsulas appear as the lake shallows out. Swallows swarm the hazy air like bees, and egrets and herons plunge skyward as the boat approaches; evidence of the nearby bird refuge. Here, the water is an average of four feet deep with six and eight feet deep shelves that border the whole area. The water is blue like the Florida Keys, with sandbars every where. It totally has the flats vibes.

Amongst the shelves and light refraction on the bottom, there are smallmouth. Everywhere. You can see them on sonar, but we usually sight fish and read water instead of relying on it. Fly fishing we only fish about ten feet down anyway. If they are deeper we can throw the gear if we want. We saw fish cruising the shelves, running along the deeper sandbars, up along the tullies and Michigan Mangroves. We spooked large groups of them as we motored around. Less spooky than a lot of saltwater fish, smallmouth will dart away only to return with curiosity and seeing if any easy food is also spooked. They are aggressive hunters. Unlike Largemouth who sit and ambush, Smallmouth locate structure, then surround in and hunt it by darting into it and chasing prey out and running it down. They are wicked fast, can do a complete 180 on prey, they can change direction quicker than just about any freshwater fish I’ve encountered. They also are acrobatic- they will run line out, they will run line deep, they will counter and run sideways and turn, headshake, they will jump more than once, slam the water, kick tail, flare their fins, flash all sorts of different colors and put up a wonderful two to six minute fight on a 6wt. They are a close second to trout on a fly rod. They are roughly the same size- a big one is over 18 inches, and they top out around 10 lbs. They can live up to fifteen years and spawn multiple times. The facts about these fish fuel and heighten the experiences with them.

They chase flies down anglers. It is fucken wicked to watch. Streamer fishing four to six feet down we would have Smallies chase, follow, dart by and turn on flies. We also fished gear and flies at the same time. My son at fourteen years old hasn’t got the 6-weight big heavy fly stuff down quite yet. So getting those fish to smack both gear and flies at the same rate was pretty awesome. A fascinating thing happens with Bronzebacks when an angler gets a hook up and has one on; the fish will regurgitate and puke up its stomach contents as a defense mechanism. Other Bass and fish know this and hone in on the fish and eat what is puked up and disturbed by the angler and fishes encounter. These fish are predators and they are brutal. A fly angler can take advantage of this and throw flies into the group of frenzied fish. One of them will peel off and chase down the fly. The dance ensues as the fish turns, darts, and plays with the prey waiting for the angler to get it just right and then they kill the shit out of it. Its an aggressive heavy hit on the 6wt and a fly.

The fish might go deep it might run, it might jump and throw its body feet into the air, it might tail walk, its fast, its fluid, and it keeps an angler on their game. This happened multiple times. Brown Bass will also hunt around other larger fish like catfish and carp and eat what they kick up and chase and pester the other fish to get it to kick up more food. We watched this and targeted fish doing that on a large catfish. These fish aren’t scared or shy to eat. They also know they are an apex predator. Spines keep them from being prey to a lot of things once they reach a decent size. They are also fast, so they can move and dart away from predators that may be around….like a musky, or large brave bird.

The three of us encountered many fish. With ample opportunity to play and land them. We got to experience the kind of fishing we were seeking out east. Lake St. Clair did not disappoint. I have shared a lot of fishing experiences over the years and the two days I spent on that Lake are by far some of my best and most memorable.

I promised a fishing story. My son who has been staying with me for a month, has high interest in my line of work, outdoors and recreation. He is my fishy outdoorsy kid. Yoinking frogs and spiders, journaling about the critters he encounters, swimming in any water he can kind, he is a regular little Steve Irwin. He isn’t little, he’s damn near my size now, but his love for the outdoors makes the young kid in him shine. He loves fishing. He is out of practice with fly fishing but can still send it with a 3wt. The 6 weight is a little much, but man he can chuck a gear rig. He got really good at it over the month he was here. We fished at least 4 day a week. He got lots of practice and landed 6 different species of fish and I lost count of how many during his stay.

Anyways, he was slinging this big chatter bait and had one hell of a smack. My partner Kristen was working the trolling motor and started coaching him through the fight. I was fishing off the bow and had set my rod down to watch my son play this larger smallie and get ready to net it. Kristen saw the pod of bass move in on my sons fish. She hollered at me to pick up the rod and cast it into the fish. I fumbled and grabbed the stick and chucked a shit cast into the fray as my son continued to reel on his fish. First cast, nothing, she coached and said, “Again!” Back into it, not much better cast. A large fish peeled off from the group and zoned in on my fly. Kristen could see the fish better than I could and told me where to cast out in front of the fish. I did again, got follows and turn, she coached, another cast.

The fish about 30 feet out and 5 feet down looking for my fly. I presented again. Finally a better cast. Follow, chase, turn, almost. Another cast she says “Six feet further! Pop it and let it sit!” I throw, the fish zones in, she says strip, I strip, the fish closes the gap. On the hang-down it goes for it. The commotion starts, there is a “set!” yelled and I am late. The fish still there, hunting for its lost prey. I throw again. At this point Kristen has landed my sons fish and my fish has now worked its way toward the bow still about 20 feet out but getting close. I’m nervous it will spook with the boat. Its been my first real shot at a fish since I stood up on the bow. I am fucking sweating, my heart is pounding, adrenaline at a hard eight, and I am thinking that fish seems big and I am gonna fuck this up but its wicked fun.

Kristen asks if its still there as now I have eyes on it from being up on the casting platform. I throw another cast and get the same reaction. She delivers instructions as I am slightly losing faith. I throw again. The fish hovers under the fly and closes the gap on the next strip- waiting for a presentation I can only hope to match. There it is, just a foot off my fly …just looking at it. A strip. A follow. The fly drops back down and the fish slides up within inches. I hold my breath. There is a millisecond of absolute quiet and calm….I can’t see the fly anymore…I set. For once in my life I fucking finally get a good strip set! Fish on! The shit hits the fan and the whole boat loses its collective mind. Remember there is already a large fish in the net my son just landed and the three of us just watched this entire thing go down and work it together. It was fly fishing magic anglers.

The fish runs, jumps, kicks, goes deep, runs for the boat twice, fights for almost 5 minutes and puts one hell of a bend in the rod, ran enough line out away from the boat and down into the depths that I had to get the fish on the reel which I rarely have to do. Counters left and right, the fish pulled the rod sideways and down, at one point it flexed so hard I thought it might snap as the fish took its first run under the boat then out away from the bow fifteen feet. This fish was a lot bigger than I thought and it has been a long while since I was tested as an angler. The flashes of emerald green as it ran through the blue water with the sand backdrop and the low morning sun poking through the cloud was amazingly beautiful. The light through the water giving the fish a intimidating shimmer as it changed color from dark to light as it moved through the water. The fish came to the net and my son, Kristen, and I had just accomplished something that we could have never fathomed.

In the net were 2 trophy sized Smallmouth Bass. My son’s at 18 inches and a gorgeous bronze striped and marbled bass. My and Kristen’s tag teamed fish…a ridiculous 23 inches, emerald green, bright, big powerful shoulders, an old fish, a perfect fish. The largest Smallmouth Bass I have every caught and probably will ever catch. A big one by Lake St. Clair standards, which kind of sets the bar impossibly high. I was amazed and in awe. It was one of the most rewarding and fun encounters I have ever had. The three of us were just bewildered and full of energy in our lungs.

I love fishing. It has been a passion of mine for twenty years and my career for ten. These kind of moments are the milestones, the highlights, the one in a thousand fishing trip days that we can encounter as anglers. It was fantastic. To share that experience with my son and my partner was by far the best part. Lake St. Clair is the first place I have been since heading out 2 years ago that has made me want to explore, share, and experience more. It is by far one of the coolest fisheries my partner and I have encountered.

The trip was a complete success with a nice shenanigan to end the day. We ran out of fuel and had to use the mighty little trolling motor to get back to the marina for fuel. Then I, flooded the engine and had to wait for a bit. We took the shenanigan in stride and came back the next day for another amazing time. We will be back. I am already wishing I could fish it more before I leave.

So there is a fishing story. A rather good one I think.

I return to the west in a few days. I am excited to share the water with clients again. And am looking forward to my next encounter with Lake St. Clair.

Tamarack