The One That DIDN'T Get Away... a true fish story

Wellesley

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Part 1

I've not spell-checked nor edited this story... call me lazy. I wager you'll get the feel of it regardless. If not, go ahead and criticize my laziness. I love my indifference to it sometimes.

Having gone to bed earlier than usual so that I would awake when my alarm clock signaled that it was 5:00am (about an hour before dawn), I was easily awakened by the annoying sound at the appointed time this last Friday morning. Since my part-time job requires me to work from 3:00pm to 7:00pm it allows me time in the mornings to go fishing, so long as the fishing hole is not too far from home. This morning's destination was a place called Willow Pond, one of four relatively small fishing ponds created in within or near Salt Lake City as a result of the Urban Fishing Renewal Project here in Utah. These mid-city ponds are stocked with catchable-sized Rainbow, Albino, Golden and Cutthroat Trout, Channel Catfish and in some cases brood stock from the state's hatcheries, 3 to 8 pound breeding fish which are no longer sufficiently productive to justify keeping them for stocking the hatcheries with gamefish fingerlings. Early in March, Willow Pond received from Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, 400 Lake Trout brood stock fish, which I have tried in vain to catch all Spring. Most of the time I catch a few good-sized Rainbow Trout for my efforts. But I had seen a couple of these large Lake Trout swimming near the shoreline, so I knew they were more than just a rumor.

Willow pond is a beautiful 3 surface-acre pond situated in the middle of an urban park just 7 miles and 15 minutes south of my home west of Salt Lake City. It is fed by two small mountain streams which wind through the grass-covered grounds of the park. Willow pond is so named because it is in a park which boasts several very large, picturesque, old Weeping Willow trees, the largest of which is in the middle of a peninsula-like "point" jutting out into the pond from the eastern shore. The park is a great place for family fun with several barbeque grills, bench tables scattered about the lawn and under a huge covered dining pavillion, a large children's playground with slides, things to climb on, swings, etc. and there's even a well-kept baseball diamond with bleacher seats and covered dugouts, and a full size soccer field. There are also large men's and women's latrines on the west side of the pond and a nearby, covered "fish cleaning station" which is very handy. There are lots of birds in the park including Canadian Geese, four or five species of ducks and other geese, Magpies, Seagulls, Robins, Red-wing Blackbirds and dozens of species of beautful songbirds and hummingbirds which make their homes at the pond or in the many assorted trees which populate the more than 20 acres of grass and flowerbeds. On Saturdays and Sundays the park is usually pretty crowded and sometimes those who fish in the pond are literally elbow-to-elbow along the shoreline and on the handicap fishing dock which extends about 25 feet out from the western shore. But during the weekdays the park is only minimally used during the morning hours until mid-afternoon and there is no shortage of places to cast a line out into the pond in hopes of catching a few pan-size fish, or even one of those huge Lake Trout which had successfully eluded me and all but a few lucky anglers for several weeks.
 
Part 2

Earlier in the week a friend of my son's had told him that he and a friend had each caught one of the lunkers off "the point" the preceding weekend, so I decided to take the trek around the pond to the point to see if I could be lucky enough to hook into one of them. As I left my little Toyota pickup at 6:10am the awe-inspiring rocky mountain sunrise was taking shape in the east as the sun threatened to rise above the nearby peaks east of the city covered in more than 30 feet of snow even at this late date in the year. As I made my way toward "the point" on the other side of the pond, I remember thinking that the sound of singing birds filling the still morning air seemed shomehow more pronounced. Several of the ducks and geese with their new ducklings and goslings all in a row were just leaving their nesting areas for swimming practice. Everywhere I looked I could see dozens of fish jumping to gulp down the fat nocturnal bugs which were too late off the surface. The smaller rainbow trout jumping were rather unspectacular, but when one of the big Lake Trout jumped and slapped the water, it sounded almost like a body hitting the river after being thrown from a high bridge; truly music to ears of an old fisherman. I set up my collapsable chair and arranged my gear around me to get started. I rigged the line with a 1/2 ounce egg sinker, a small brass snap swivel and then I attached a small, size 12 snelled salmon egg hook to about a 30 inch, 2 pound test leader. I have a light, old, portable, telescoping IV pole from which I have removed the wheels and modified the top medication clip that I use for a rod holder which I set up at the water's edge.
In my fruitless attempts to catch a Lake Trout I had used virtually every weapon in my fishing tackle arsenal, from a Swedish Pimple to a Big Jake spinner, and practically every bait imaginable from nightcrawlers to Power Bait to American cheese, yes... American cheese. Nothing worked, not even in smorgasbord-style combinations from hell. My son's friend said he had caught his lunker on a Pautzke's Gold Label salmon egg; a roe bait with gold, glitter-like flecks on the surface. So, the day before, I had gone to the local tackle shop and plunked down 4 bucks for a small jar to try them out and a couple of extra packs of very small, size 12 salmon egg hooks.

Over the next two hours I caught six small trout which I released because they were too small to keep, but that was it. Then I started to notice something very strange. Usually when a hungry or agitated trout takes a bait or lure, they "strike" and run with it. The older, smarter trout will sometimes quickly pick up a baited hook and spit it out before returning in a few seconds to eat it if it isn't jerked away. But in this case I was getting just one barely perceptible tug, and although I waited up to a minute or so for that second hit, it never came. So, after a couple of minutes of patience, I would reel in the line to check my bait only to find that it was stripped of the egg except for the tougher outer skin which remained. It appeared as though the fish was just squishing the egg right on the hook and sucking out it's contents! Very strange indeed and something which, if I was right, I had never seen before. I actually went through about a dozen salmon eggs trying to "out-quick" the theif, but to no avail. With each attempt, by the time I had reacted to the gentle tug, it was over. It occured to me that the culprit may very well be one of the Lake Trout since this behavior was so unusual. As a 50-year fisherman who thinks himself a somewhat of a master at the sport, something simply had to be done to counter this tactic, it was becoming a battle of wits and a matter of ego.

After contemplating the situation, I decided that I would just add a second hook to the end of the leader so that after the fish ate the first egg alerting me to his presence, he would not be able to resist the second one laying there, and with the line hooked across my finger so as to feel even the slightest disturbance on the line I would be flexed and ready to explosively set the hook when he picked up the second hook.
Well, for the first couple of tries, I came up empty just as before and the fish never picked up on the second egg-covered hook. It had now been about three hours and I was pretty much ready to give it up and go home to get ready for work. A few seconds after getting disgusted, it happened. There came that first little jerk, a few seconds passed as I waited like a snake coiled and ready to strike, and then the second tug. I jerked back on the pole violently, determined to get a hook into the crafty opponent. To my utter amazement I was rewarded with the scream of the drag as the line began ripping off the reel. And so it was on! Man against fish.
 
Part 3

I was using an ultra-light rod and reel with 4 pound test line and a 2 pound test leader. Knowing the fish was obviously very large as it continued to run out into the lake, I would have to be very careful and patient to keep from losing my prey to a snapped leader. An ultra-light reel only holds about 60 yards of line and the running trout had almost stripped it all from the reel as I tried desperately to slow him so I could begin to reel him in. Finally I tightened the drag a bit and he tired enough for me to start reeling him in. Because of the light test leader I slowly and carefully reeled the fish back in to within about 25 feet of the shore. Suddenly he jerked visciously and began to jump out of the water... once and then again. It was then that I got my first look at him. Sure enough, this was an elusive Lake Trout and it was huge! I could not overstate my excitement at this point as he again began stripping line from the reel. I tightened the drag a couple of notches and held on as the line again was dangerously nearly gone. So I began to awkwardly hobble around toward the south shore reeling furiously to keep the slack out of the line and keep the tension on the rod tip. I was gaining on him and clearly he was tiring... or so I thought. I slowly reeled and made my way back out to the point thinking this time he would be exhausted enough for me to land him. But as he got near the shore and caught sight of me he jumped out of the water again shaking his head back and forth trying to dislodge the stubborn little egg hook. By this time I was whooping and yelling with excitement and a few people had gathered nearby to watch me battle the fish. Once more the trout was making the drag sing as he ran toward the north this time, more slowly now but still with urgency and power. I hobbled my way quickly along the north shore of the point just as before to keep him from taking out all the line, all the while keeping tension on the rod tip and reeling furiously against the drag. Surely this fish must be finally played out as he stopped taking line and began to yield back to me as I pulled back on the light rod, released while reeling in the slack, and repeated the motion slowly pulling the fish in as I slowly made my way back to the end of the point where my chair and tackle were. I dare say that by this time my crippled body was at least as worn out as he was. Now it was a matter of being very careful to get him to the sloping shoreline by loosening the drag and reeling slowly to prevent him from snapping the light 2 pound test leader which attached the hooks to my line. By now, according to one of the spectators, about 10 minutes had gone by though it seemed like 30.

As the reel filled with line I could tell that the fight was probably over and in a minute or so I finally saw the big fish about 10 feet from shore in the nearly clear water, his gill covers flaring widely and rapidly showing his fatigue. But now, how to get him up on shore? As big as he was I had no doubt that I wouldn't be able to drag him up onto the shore without breaking the leader, and I had no net. Drat! That meant only one thing; I would have to wade out into the water while keeping the tension on the rod tip until I could reach down and grasp the trout by the gills to lift him from the water. And so I stepped into the cold water halfway to my knees slowly approaching the fish so as not to scare him into another run. It mattered little, as it turned out, because he was finally and totally vanquished. I reached down and snatched him by the gill plate and lifted him triumphantly from the water. He was mine! I stepped from the water walking back to my chair on shore with what may well be the biggest grin ever to stretch my old lips, my eyes the size of quarters and whooping with joy. Yes!!

After sitting for a moment to catch my breath, I reached into the tackle box and pulled out my "de-liar" scale to measure this guy. I threaded the nylon stringer through his gill and mouth so I wouldn't lose him as he wriggled about, then hooked the scale under the point of his hooked lower jaw bone and stretched out the tape measure. This was the biggest trout I had ever caught, my friends. He weighed in at 7-1/2 pounds and measured 26-1/2 inches long! When I jerked to set the hook originally, the second hook had lodged under his tongue. Interestingly, and probably the only reason I was able to keep him on the line, the force of setting the second hook had caused the first hook to whip against his face and had lodged firmly under his eye on the outside.

That was enough for me. I was tired and needed to get home to take more pain meds and lie down for awhile before going to work. So I cleaned things up, folded up the chair, repacked my tackle box and loaded everything on my portable hand truck carrier to head over to the fish cleaning station on the other side of the pond. As I limped along, the bottom quarter of the big Lake Trout dragged on the ground. I passed by another old fellow fishing about 50 yards north of me in a little cove. He said to me, "You make this old man jealous, my friend," to which I grinned and thanked him. I was one proud fisherman.

While cleaning the fish I opened his stomach just to see if it really was he that was taking my salmon eggs. It was indeed. His stomach contained the red remains of my salmon eggs, a few bugs and a couple of small fingerlings he had munched down.

Yes, this was the one that DIDN'T get away.
 
morganmint said:
Nice one, now you are only 8 pounds short of my personal best :D . That one on the other hand was caught in the baltic sea and trouts living there are usually much larger than the ones living in ponds and alike.
No doubt the Baltic holds big trout, although I've obviously not fished there. But my personal best is a King Salmon caught out of Illwako just outside of Tacoma Washington in 1974. 140 miles out into the Pacific I hauled in a 41 pound King on MUCH heavier tackle and a pole the size of a small tree! Call me a purist, but catching a big trout on light tackle in tight water is more the challenge. Not as good as sex, perhaps, but close.;)
 
TheDevil'sOwn said:
My future father-in-law just caught the first bluefish of the season off the coast of Martha's Vineyard. Very cool accomplishment for an accomplished fisherman.

BTW - Nice one, Wellesley.
Thanks mate. Not bad for a crippled up old man, even if I do say. It must have been comical to watch me hobbling from side to side playing the bad boy in and out. BTW, I got 4 pounds of fat fillets from this one, enough for 6 meals. Very tasty stuff when served up with hushpuppies and greens. :lol:
 
Wellesley said:
No doubt the Baltic holds big trout, although I've obviously not fished there. But my personal best is a King Salmon caught out of Illwako just outside of Tacoma Washington in 1974. 140 miles out into the Pacific I hauled in a 41 pound King on MUCH heavier tackle and a pole the size of a small tree! Call me a purist, but catching a big trout on light tackle in tight water is more the challenge. Not as good as sex, perhaps, but close.;)

I can't match the size of that particular one, a true monster it is, but i do agree it is much nicer to catch fish on light tackle. During my childhood years up north in Sweden we used to catch trouts in extremely small creeks, creeks that are only a few yards across, with only a ligth rod, hook, sink and bait. We sneeked up on them behind trees and bushes and one could actually see them take the bait. The size of these trouts were nothing to register but sometimes you could catch a truly big one. Big being about 11 to 15 inch. I have never experienced fishing as thrilling as this.
 
anyone care to summarise all that in a few sentances,
one sentance caught my eye as i was scrolling down

"After sitting for a moment to catch my breath, I reached into the tackle box and pulled out my "de-liar" scale to measure this guy."

the dirty scut.
 
Murt said:
anyone care to summarise all that in a few sentances,
one sentance caught my eye as i was scrolling down

"After sitting for a moment to catch my breath, I reached into the tackle box and pulled out my "de-liar" scale to measure this guy."

the dirty scut.
:lol:
 
huh, you didn't even shit on your own head...

a good story ruined...
 
ManUinOz said:
Nice story Wellesley. My best fish on 1kg line was a 5.5 kg carp that won me a club competition. Can't beat fishing with light tackle IMO.
Thanks for the comment. You're right, MunUinOz... it's a fine challenge of patience and skill with a bit of finess thrown in. Great fun. Your carp catch is bigger than anything I've caught on light tackle... twice as big as me trout.