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Date: February 19-21, 2022 Body of Water: Newfound Lake, New Hampshire; access at Wellington State Park Moon Phase: Waning gibbous moon Boat: None - ice fishing With: A Target: Lakers (Togue) and Cusk Time: Various Conditions: Over a foot of solid ice. Polar plunge after a wet warm front, but ameliorating as the weekend progressed. In what has become something of a tradition, we hit New Hampshire's Newfound Lake on President's Day weekend. After some modest success there in 2020 (see www.numenonfunfishing.com/numenonfunfishing/newfound-lake), and having figured out the logistics of lodging, bait, access, and potentially productive structure within walking distance, I looked forward to some lake trout success. Plus, after a year of thinking about it, I was equipped to tackle a new-to-me fishing experience. I was going to target the freshwater cod variously known as cusk, ling, lawyer, burbot, eelpout and other monikers by soaking a half-dozen baits overnight, each night of our stay. Saturday, February 19 1 - 4:30 PM 22-24 degrees F and ranging from clear and sunny to white-out snow squalls. Fortunately, the wind was generally mild and conditions were quite comfortable for the temperature. After packing and enjoying the leisurely drive into the White Mountains, I struck out at Bridgewater Convenience Store; they had no bait! Fortunately, we called ahead to Bristol's Newfound Sales, which offered smelt, shiners and suckers. It was only a few miles out of our way, and I left there with 18 shiners. I'd have preferred smelt, but the available selection was way too small to be of interest to deepwater lake trout. I also picked up some affirmation that successful cusk fishing in my area of choice was not a pipe dream; rocks in 15-45 feet of water appeared to be a good starting point. A joined me for this session, and so I had my work cut out for me; four tip-ups plus my bonus set of 6 cusk sticks. I spread the tip-ups between 27 and 95 feet of water, with baits set very near bottom, looking for togue. Meanwhile, I set the cusk sticks right on bottom (as required by NH law) in depths ranging from 13 to 47 feet. Based on the shoreline, I expected there to be plenty of rocks strewn about the bottom in this area, and based on my GPS mapping, each set was placed along/at the base of a steep drop. I was trying to fish with intention! I didn't expect any action on the cusk sticks during the day, but I sure hoped to find some trout with my tip-ups. Shortly after everything was set, our shallowest tip-up sprang to life; we seemed to be off to a good start. Unfortunately, it was a drive-by. Something had grabbed the shiner from behind and pulled off just a couple of feet of line. Still, I re-set the trap with some hope and confidence. All the lakers I've caught on this lake have been in over 90 feet of water, and so my deepest trap stayed put. But I moved our mid-depth sets about, hoping to find some active fish. When this failed to work, I pulled one trap and started jigging with a shiner-tipped bucktail. I pulled a couple of fish from the bottom (over 90 feet down), but each of these just faded away instead of biting. As usual, the Newfound Lake trout were proving to be finicky. A was getting cold, and so I slowly pulled traps while she prepared to walk off the ice. I lingered behind a bit, trying to will one of my flags to fly; and when that didn't work, I dawdled my way back, but first checking each cusk bait and covering the stick and hole with fluffy ice chips for insulation. It was going to get cold overnight, and I didn't want the sticks to get totally frozen in. Sunday, February 20, 2022 8:30 AM - 3:30 PM 6 degrees F but warming to about 26 degrees; generally cloudy but with some sun, and (fortunately) minimal, inconsistent wind I started the day alone. After setting my two tip-ups, in 13 and 89 feet of water (again, with some deliberate intention of placement), I checked my cusk sticks. My primary concern for these had been having the stick itself freeze solid to the ice. This wasn't an issue at all; each came free easily after I found it under the insulating snow. However, the holes themselves were stiffly frozen; they required more chipping with a scoop than I had expected. And I certainly hadn't expected the line to freeze so strongly to the hole's edge. Extracting these was a bit more work than I had imagined. Still, it was pleasant enough work, and I had my tip-ups working for me while I focused on this. My first five sticks came up empty! Three or four of them had come back without bait, to boot. That offered some hope that there'd been some fish activity overnight. I certainly hadn't hooked my shiners, live or dead, daintily. Then again, I'm not sure I'd ever soaked a bait for 16 hours or more. I wasn't exactly confident when I approached my last (sixth) stick in about 37 feet of water. But I could tell immediately upon picking up the line that I had a fish; and quick enough, a 15-inch cusk slid through the hole, my first ever! It was just a small guy, but it was still "success"! Now I could concentrate on the lakers! By the time A joined me at about 1 PM, I'd drilled a bunch of holes. I'd scanned/jigged/fished depths from 40 to 96 feet, and I'd moved my tip-ups about, either horizontally to new locations, or adjusting depths by raising/lowering the baits. I had a couple more visible rejections on the sonar (I was now jigging a Swedish Pimple), and I'd marked an abundance of "bait" near bottom in 72 feet of water. With A now on the ice, I added a couple more tip-ups; and eventually moved a couple of traps to new, deep water areas. But nothing budged, and when the wind picked up a bit and chilled A, I again slowly started to pull traps and check cusk-bait settings. The wind had been taken out of my laker sails, but I still had hope for some success with the cod; and since the night would not be as cold, perhaps the next morning's cusk adventure would be a bit easier, at least on my hands! Monday, February 21, 2022 8:30 - 9:30 AM 24 degrees, overcast and calm It was a bit chillier than forecast, but still pleasant on the ice. I dressed and traveled lighter than usual as A joined me to check and gather the cusk sticks. I moved ahead to release the sticks and open the holes, and by the time I'd done that, A caught up to enjoy the fun. My first set was the deepest of the day at a tad over 40 feet deep. This one came up empty, and the bait appeared to be unmolested. But I instantly detected a fish on the second in about 30 feet. A witnessed all the action as I pulled my largest ever ling through the ice. At perhaps 18 inches, it was no giant, but it was certainly heavier (and darker) than the previous day's specimen. Although repulsed by the beady-eyed, squirmy, slippery 'pout, A was a good sport in documenting the action. Despite her love of cod, apparently that does not extend to the burbot; and so this fine fish was released. My shallowest trap (13 feet) was stripped of bait, as was my penultimate in about 37. But in between, my 27-foot stick yielded a smallish cusk. What a day! And, my last trip (41 feet) yielded another 18-incher. I'd batted 0.500 for the day, and 0.333 for the trip. I'm not going to say that this was a destination-worthy experience, but it had certainly added value to my otherwise fruitless efforts. Plus, how does one experience with a new species and technique? Our fishing was done, and I was bushed. I'd logged over 30,000 steps on the ice in less than 48 hours. It was time to head home. What do I have to say about this? I'll admit this; I am disappointed that I was unable to trigger any bites from lake trout! I'd like to think that my 2020 success on this pleasant lake was not a first-timers' fluke. Smelt in lieu of shiners might have helped, but there certainly wasn't a ton of activity below the ice. Having a sonar is awesome for ice fishing, and seeing fish on the screen leads to additional catches, no doubt. But not seeing fish is helpful, too. It's just a little more difficult to accept. I was just unable to expand my efforts enough to find any local fish. It's difficult, too, to learn a lake through the ice. I do appreciate the quiet scenery this lake affords, and I've got some time and effort invested in this fishery. I think I need to visit in the summer, when the lakers will be constrained to the bottom, and try some trolling. Perhaps that will reveal some of their whereabouts and habits. And if I get skunked again? I'll have had another pleasant day on the water and have added some more info for future decisions. Ah, but the cusk! New Hampshire makes these fish accessible by allowing six sticks that need to be checked only once per 24 hours. Since these are nocturnal fish, that makes an overnight soak from the comfort of a bed possible. (In Maine, each trap has to be checked every hour, and that's not happening for me at night!) And, it's an added value, bonus endeavor. Why not give it a shot? What I've learned about this fishery and my primary motivation came from these New Hampshire websites: www.wildlife.state.nh.us/fishing/cusk-fishing.html and www.wildlife.state.nh.us/pubs/documents/samples/winter-cusk.pdf. This recent event didn't hurt, either - www.onthewater.com/state-record-burbot-cusk-caught-in-new-hampshire! My initial interest in these fish was for gyotaku. I'm concerned that they are too slimy and their scales are too small to make for an interesting print. However, if I ever get a larger specimen, I shall certainly give it a try. Finally, special thanks to good friend T, who crafted my sticks to my specifications. They are way too nice to treat them the way they will be abused. But they put up some Hall of Fame numbers in their debut, and I suspect they shall be more than serviceable for quite some time! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: February 12, 2022 Body of Water: Trickey Pond - Naples, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus four days; waxing gibbous moon Boat: None - Ice fishing With: A Target: Trout or Landlocked Salmon Time: 10 AM - 1 PM Conditions: Increasing sun with some gusty southerly wind; 45-50 degrees F after a warm night; slow going with lots of sloppy slush on the ice I wanted to try this pond based on known access, the presence of splake trout, and proximity to home. At just over 300 acres, Trickey is large enough to be interesting, but small enough to potentially figure out. After grabbing some bait at Sebago Bait and Tackle, we drove north to the access point. I was surprised to find a dozen or so rigs filling the parking lot; others had the same idea, and there's clearly some interest in this fishery. I found a spot at the margins of the access and we hit the ice. About half the people were out over the deep basin; the others were spread along the shoreline to the right. Since I wanted to try a variety of depths, we went along this shoreline. Having passed a couple of groups, the snow and slush got deeper and we bogged down. I set a line of tip-ups from 6 feet of water right against shore to about 48 feet of water. I couldn't really go any deeper without infringing upon a pelagic group's set of traps. With traps set at 6, 10, 30, 40 and 48 feet, I drilled a pair of holes for jigging at 21 and 32 feet. Most were set with the smelt half-way down; for the deepest, I placed the smelt just a few feet under the ice. Other than moving the shallowest out to 14 feet about half-way through the session, this is where we stayed. I adjusted the depths on various traps and maintained lively smelts. The slush was just too much to try to move around, very much, and A's feet were already wet, so I knew we wouldn't last long. Just as I got A set for jigging in 21 feet, the 30-foot flag flew. A drive-by pulled about 10 feet of line off the spool before dropping the smelt. I tipped a horizontal jig with a lightly-hooked smelt and jigged in 32 feet. After tapping bottom a few times and raising my bait, a fish moved in almost immediately. I raised this fish to about 20 feet down before it struck. But it simply plucked the smelt off my hook and faded away. Shortly thereafter, A got hit a few cranks off the bottom. But the fish came off before she saw it. We'd struck out; we would end up leaving the ice with no further action, skunked. What do I have to say about this? The slush was a major hindrance, but the warmth and sun was the ticket to get A out. It was a great, comfortable trip, if one can overlook the debilitating slush conditions. And we had our chances; the line between a skunk and some success is pretty fine. Clearly we were not over a lot of fish and so I doubt that we had experienced the best of Trickey Pond. With a little better luck, we could have scored. Despite the skunk, I liked this pond and will return. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: February 6, 2022 Body of Water: Sebago Lake (Station Landing at south end), Maine Moon Phase: New Moon plus five days; waxing crescent moon Boat: None, Ice-fishing With: Alone Target: Lakers (Togue) Time: 6:30 AM - 1:00 PM Conditions: Clear, calm and bright; about -1 to 20 degrees F; just over one foot of ice I confirmed at Sebago Bait and Tackle that suckers were the bait of choice for Sebago Lake togue, and that the Station Landing at the lake's south end was a decent place to try. This was the best access point for the lake, but it was still a haul out to the preferred depths (seemingly over 100 feet and well beyond). My Humminbird portable GPS led me to my water of choice; about as far out as anybody would be willing to walk, along a drop from 80 feet of water into about 140 feet to the east, at the boundary of the Portland Drinking Water District's exclusion zone. My first four holes received tip-ups stretching from 80 feet of water to 131 feet. Each had a sucker suspended about 3 feet of bottom. After these were set, I scanned each location with sonar. The two deepest sets seemed to have the "most" life, and so I drilled my fifth hole to start jigging in 117 feet. I tipped a perch-colored bucktail with a slice of sucker meat and sent it down. I was fishing to the maximum extent allowed, and I was filled with optimism. It seemed like it would be just a matter of time before something good happened. After 5 or 10 minutes, I was inclined to move to another jigging location when a market moved off bottom to inspect my bait. I toyed with this fish (or it toyed with me) for several minutes. I was able to pull the fish well off the bottom (usually a sign that it is interested in eating) before it faded off the graph. That kept me at this hole for a bit longer, but nothing came back. After checking my traps, I moved to a new jigging hole in 109 feet. I switched to a white, 4-inch swim-bait. Once again, I moved several fish on the screen, but none touched my lure. I wasn't seeing much life, and what I was seeing, was not hungry! Over the course of the next few hours, I moved my quiet traps to increasingly deep water and drilled more prospecting holes for jigging. I became somewhat constrained by too-shallow depths of water (west), crowds (north), and the exclusion zone (east). I had a few more refusals, and flags never flew. When the wind just barely picked up at about 12:30, I suddenly lost my hopeful gas; and I pulled my lines, uncharacteristically early. What do I have to say about this? I hate getting skunked, but it was a beautiful morning with plenty of fresh air and exercise. Nobody else seemed to be catching anything, either, and so maybe it wasn't my location or my presentations, but rather just the conditions and the mood of the trout. Folks are either unaware of the exclusion zone or don't care; there were a couple of dozen groups clearly fishing within. Maybe it's not enforced. Oh well, I will always choose to follow the rules. The performance of the new Ion G2 (electric) ice auger was impressive, and I now feel a bit sheepish for having not gotten one years ago. I didn't move around much this day, but it wasn't because I was exhausted by the mere prospect of cutting holes; it was the cold and extreme depths I was working that prevented efficient mobility. This lake is so big! It's going to take a lot of time and accumulated experience for me to figure out how best to spend my limited time on the ice. My next exploration is likely to be at a smaller, more manageable body of water. Trickey Pond, perhaps? Since I came off the ice a bit earlier than I expected, I scouted out access at Harmon's Beach, just north and on Sebago's west side. While I'd heard good things about this area, it does not look friendly or convenient for the ice-fisherman on foot, but rather for those with snow machines. I'll pass on this opportunity. P.S. After reading a recent article from On the Water magazine focusing on Sebago's lakers and cross-referencing with an active local Facebook group, it seems as if the lakers here can be "on" and "off" on a day-to-day basis. It also seems that perhaps I was a bit too shallow (150 - 180 feet of water specifically mentioned for alewife-chasing togue), and perhaps too focused on traps. Perhaps my next attempt here will involve more mobility, sonar scanning and jigging, and then setting up traps, including at mid-range within the water column. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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