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Date: November 12, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Togue (Lake Trout) Time: 9:30 AM - 3:00 PM Moon Phase: New moon minus one day; waning crescent Conditions: Clear and bright; northerly, double-digit wind calming over course of day and swinging to WNW; 33 - 38 degrees. Water temperatures 47 - 49 degrees F (+/-) . Could I have possibly screwed myself over again? I arrived at the Standish ramp at Sebago's south end only to stare into the teeth of a stiff and long-fetched north wind. This was way stronger than forecast, and so I was a bit disappointed that I would be struggling with the wind again. Still, it looked to be safe and quite possibly, fishable. I had all day in front of me, so I headed north from the ramp. I decided to go as far north as possible to allow myself to ride the wind back and cover as much new water as possible. I'd at least learn during this trip! Mid-way up the lake, a view directly to Mount Washington opened up. On such a clear day, it was a beautiful reminder that I now have the good fortune of living in northern New England! I continued north, until I reached the shallow bar that separates Frye Island from the wester shoreline and that defines the extent of the northern Great Basin from the southern end of the lake. Here, I set my initial spread (full core of ten colors and a downrigger) and started the day's explorations. The graph was relatively devoid of targets as I trolled over new-to-me water. I focused on 55 - 85 foot depths and paralleled a sunken hump topping out at 55 feet. As I crossed the southern extent of this bar and entered deeper water (105 feet), my lure trailing 350 feet back got smacked. The lure was probably over 80 feet of water when it got hit. Unfortunately, the hooks immediately pulled, but this was still a hopeful start to the day. I ended up doing a completed circuit around this bar and repeating this pass before moseying off to the east, but I found no other willing fish. The wind looked to be relaxing and the familiar waters north end of Frye Island weren't too far away, so I pulled lines and headed that way. I set the same spread in about 130 feet of water as I trolled south, over the extent of the sunken bar and through some familiar waypoints in 70 - 80 feet. These didn't pay off, but I continued my meanderings and hooked up (finally), once again over about 100 feet of water with my lure coming across 70 to 80-foot depths. After landing this 20-incher, I replaced my downrigger with the 150 Copper equipped with a white/Bloody Nose spoon. The lead core produced another (small!) togue in similar water, while the copper rig went untouched over the next hour or so. I made the 4-mile run to the Northwest River humps for my final explorations of the day. I reverted back to using the downrigger, but of course the Easter Egg spoon still continued to tail far behind ten colors of lead line. My pass through the entire stretch of waypoints along these humps produced minimal action. The full core went untouched, while I picked up another small togue on the rigger. This fish might have hitch-hiked a ride for a bit as it did not pull the release, but I generally tried to keep the ball 5 - 10 feet off bottom; I had increased the leader length from the ball to about 30 feet. At 3 PM, I was through my waypoints and had a 20-minute run to the ramp in front of me. I pulled lines, perhaps for the last time in 2023. What do I have to say about this? While the fishing wasn't great (was I stuck on previous patterns due to a modicum of positive feedback? Had I not searched shallow waters enough, or indeed, fished shallow enough?), this had been a pleasant-enough session while I soaked in the sunshine. The run back to the ramp was downright fun in glass-calm water, and back at the ramp, I was stricken by an awareness of why it had been such a relaxing day; other than the sporadic call from a loon or gull, it was dead quiet. There was so little human-made noise. I wasn't too far from home, but at this time of year and with Mount Washington looming, this was approaching a true wilderness experience! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: November 11, 2023 Body of Water: Lake Sebago - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake trout (togue) Time: 9:30 AM - 12:30 PM Moon Phase: New moon minus two days; waning crescent Conditions: Clear and bright, persistent NNW wind 10-15 mph with gusts, about 40 degrees. Water temperatures 49 degrees F (+/-) A planned quick trip was cut even shorter by a very stiff and building northerly wind. Alone at the State Park ramp again, I launched and motored to the humps off the Northwest River. I expected the thermocline to have dissolved and my first southerly pass included a Reef Runner crank at about 16 feet down and a bright spoon presented off two colors of lead and a long, light leader as I strafed over the shallowest portions of the humps. I marked very few fish and had no action, so I picked up lines and turned to the north to repeat a deeper pass over known, productive water. And that's when I realized how windy it had gotten! Beyond the humps' north end, I reset lines with a full core and a downrigger. Pretty quickly, I scored a fish on each. A 21-inch togue ate an Easter Egg (Glow) spoon on the full core over about 75 feet of water, while a simple white glow spoon, 25-feet off the rigger, got hit 50 feet down over 60 feet of water. This rigger fish was 20 inches or less. I continued my pass to the south with no further action. Controlling the boat and speed was getting more difficult. When I turned into the wind to set up another pass, I simply decided to call it a day; the wind was steady and the lake was getting angry. When I had some minor but real problems crossing the sandbar at the mouth of the Songo River (whether due to seiche or continued drawdown) upon return, I decided I was done with this launch for the season, too. What do I have to say about this? I've been holding out for the dissolution of the thermocline and the lakers moving into shallow water, but with holidays looming and now this ramp situation, I'm not sure I'll get to explore that part of the season! And yet I feel that I am not done; I'll have to decide whether the Standish ramp at Sebago's south end proves attractive and fishable, or move on to familiar trout ponds for any remaining sessions for 2023. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: November 4, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake Trout (Togue) Time: 9:30 AM - 4:45 PM Moon Phase: Waning Third Quarter Moon Conditions: Mostly cloudy to overcast, persistent southwesterly wind over 10 mph but calming in late afternoon, about 50 degrees. Water temperature 52 degrees F (+/-) One would think that the Northwest River would be in the lake's northwest corner, correct? But no, this is not a reference to the Muddy River, but rather to a separate drainage system. When the overall fishiest guy I've met in Maine mentioned launching from there and fishing some nearby humps for quality lakers, I listened. I refocused my thoughts on the western portion of the Big Basin of Sebago. One look at my GPS mapping showed the humps in question, and these looked closer to the state park launch and more protected from the westerly wind than the Frye Island waters. Of course, I was going to start my day in this new-to-me area! I was now also equipped with a downrigger, salvaged from the original Numenon. This gave me another method of presenting a spoon to deep fish, if need be. Despite the wind and chop, it was a dry ride to these new grounds, and I was setting lines in about 80 feet of water south of these humps by 9:45 AM. My initial spread was the productive white spoon off ten colors of lead, paired with a clean "Easter Egg Glow" spoon off the downrigger. I rode the waves to the north and east as I began my search for fish. I had a lot of faith in 75 -100 feet, but I also knew that the week's cold weather and wind had likely eroded the thermocline and mixed things up. I hadn't moved far at all when the full core of lead bent over in about 75 feet of water; I used the trolling motor to maintain control of the boat as I put the main motor in neutral to fight the fish. At almost 20 inches, this first fish of the day was bright, fresh, active and strong. I was off to a good start! Things normalized, and I'd gone quite a distance without a hit while covering water from 55 to 110 feet of water. I had circled back to this same area before I got my next hit on the same presentation. This was a fat 23-inch laker, also in about 75 feet of water. A pattern was slowly developing. While these two fish were associated with the same slight hump on a a deeper flat, the next fish came from a similar depth, but at the edge of a flat plunging into much deeper water. Once again the full core of lead got hit aggressively, and I landed a nice 24-incher. I continued my troll to the north, now focusing on 75-foot flats and the break-line into the depths. This worked too, but I farmed out two fish in a row after long fights on the full core before I connected again, this time with a seemingly solid fish. Alas, I lost this one, too, but this time to a worn leader. I'd been pretty good about checking this and retying as needed, but perhaps 8-pound leader is just too light for the bigger fish. They have pretty abrasive teeth, and sometimes roll themselves up in the leader, which can put some odd-angled pressure on the line during the fight. It hurt to have lost this spoon, but I have plenty of white spoons, so I started to swim another. Meanwhile, I was working the downrigger hard, frequently changing depths, lead lengths off the ball, and spoons. So far, I'd had a few releases, but these might have been the spoon grabbing bottom as I slowed down, turned, etc. I'd seen several fish rise to the ball but then sink away without eating. The latter part of the afternoon calmed and the rigger bite really woke up. Generally staying 8 -10 feet off bottom in 70-80 feet of water with a 25-foot lead off the ball started producing. All my rigger fish came on an old lake trout favorite, the White Ghost (Glow). These ranged from tiny to about 22 inches. At 4:43 PM, the rigger went for the last time, and I ended my day at 9 togue-for-12 real chances. Not bad, for new water! What do I have to say about this? Using the trolling motor while fighting fish or setting the second line was a real boon for boat control! A couple of the rigger trout spit out tiny alewife (less than two inches). I doubt they would find a small spoon at such depths, but it was interesting to confirm the bait. I think these are the "clouds" of bait I see near bottom, and when/if I jig for these lakers, I will keep a small bait in mind and available to match the hatch. I suspect the thermocline is largely dissolved, but at 52 degrees, the water is still too warm to expect the lakers to have moved very shallow. As I recall from Michigan's Crystal Lake, 48 degrees was the magic number, and 46 was even better for hungry shallow lakers. Had I not lost my spoon, and had I landed that heavier fish, it would have been quite the day! Instead, I'll just admit that it was a really fine day on the water! As an added bonus, I fell asleep to the ongoing hum of the downrigger cables; something I haven't done in quite a while! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 28, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Togue (Lake Trout) Time: 9:45 AM - 3:45 PM Moon Phase: Full moon Conditions: Clear and bright, but with some clouds and rain by session's end; calm but with a persistent southwesterly wind developing at 11 AM at about 10 - 15 mph; 60 - 75 degrees. Water temperatures 57 - 59 degrees F (+/-) and thermocline still in place. With a strong southwesterly wind predicted to develop, I decided to run across Sebago to the north end of Frye Island while I could. I figured I could always tuck into the channel between Frye and the mainland if need be, or cross the straits at the south end to the western shore of the lakes' main basin to explore new, but protected waters. By 10 AM, I was set up along Frye's western shore, exploring depths between 50 and 100 feet as I made my way north. My initial spread (which I ended up running all day) was the productive red-eyed white spoon off ten colors of lead; and a white/lemon/lime spoon of the same model off a newly rehabilitated rig with 150 feet of copper line. Theoretically, these were both attaining 45 feet or more of depth, and perhaps even a bit more at my target speed between 1.5 and 2 mph. Since water temperatures were basically stuck and I was still marking the thermocline with some regularity, I thought I'd give these their due time, at least until I'd convinced myself they were not working. The first hit came quickly and was a violent drive-by on the full core. Despite the rod doubling over dramatically and staying pinned down for a moment, somehow this fish was not hooked. Oh well, I continued my path to the north, noting some interesting structural elements worthy of additional inspection in subsequent trolling passes. One such element had some obvious targets hanging about, including a couple suspended about 45 feet down over 75 feet of water. Sure enough, the full core got bit again, and I was happy to slide the net beneath a spunky 21-inch togue. The first goal of the day had been fulfilled; my targeted quarry had been captured! I pulled the copper rig and motored to the south to set for another pass. As I turned into the wind, I noticed that conditions had dramatically deteriorated. The breeze had become a stiff wind, and whitecaps were forming over the main basin. Conditions were still very fishable, though, so I decided to stay in the area. After all, I'd had fish in two new locations and had not yet even made it to the area I expected to fish, hard! Lines reset, I made my way north for the second pass of the morning. The next action occurred almost directly over the waypoint for that last fish. Once again, I was marking some obvious targets on the sonar. This time, the copper rig bounced; nobody seemed to be at home, but a few beats later the rod bent over sharply. My newly-deployed, old-school approach paid off with a fat 23-incher. This rig had the advantages of being more effective at transmitting the actions of the fish, as well as being easier and quicker to deploy. I may have to cannibalize my 300-foot rig into additional, shorter presentations. With baits reset, I continued north through the waypoints from the previous weekend. Nothing happened in these 65 - 90-foot depths, but as I turned out over the deeper water at the end of this sunken bar, the full-core rod doubled over with a heavier fish. This turned out to be a beautifully marked 25-inch togue; my biggest Maine trout to date! Goal No. 2 for the day was now fulfilled, too! The wind was now really howling, and so I decided to hide in the lee of Frye Island. I trolled the picturesque channel between Frye and the mainland with out a bump. As I turned into the wind to get over the bar for another pass, once again the full core rod bent to a heavier fish; this 25-incher ate over 120 feet of water or more, but still near the edge of the break onto the bar extending from Frye's northern point. I circled around the sunken point's end, looking for another edge or deepwater fish, but to no avail. It was now about 2 PM, and I had a decision to make; stay and grind, or seek cover from the wind in unknown water? I decided one more fish would be nice and so I set up for a long pass through the water that had produced the day's action. If I didn't get one in the hour or so left of my fishing time, so be it; at least I knew I was around fish. I set the same spread, but changing out the copper rig's spoon with a "Bloody Nose" alewife spoon. At about 3 PM, the bite picked up nicely with three more fish along this now-familiar stretch. The full core produced two, the copper, one; all fish were the smallest of the day between 18 and 20 inches. Bites came between 75 and 110 feet of water, and at least two of the three were over or adjacent to existing waypoints; the third came from a juicy piece of structure (a feeding shelf in about 85 feet of water, leading to the extensive bar, but flanked by deep water, too). Goal No. 3 was in the bag; I'd landed five or more togue for the day. It was now cloudy, raining a bit, and the wind had a northwesterly component to it. I pounded my way into the harbor, perhaps the last person left on the lake for the day. What do I have to say about this? I left Goal No. 4 on the table; I didn't even attempt to catch a fish by jigging. Oh well, the trolling bite was good enough and it was certainly too windy to try to learn the jigging bite. I spoke with the Park Ranger on my way in this day, and he mentioned that anything "over 20 inches" is a nice togue on Sebago; but that trout to 30 pounds are caught each year. So I guess I am on the right fish, and there's at least a chance of an encounter with a true, quality fish. That's enough to keep me at this. A mounting system and hardware have been secured for a downrigger, so I look forward to adding that presentation to my spread in future trips. Catching fish on a clean downrigger presentation is more fun than dragging full cores! Although I do recognize, that on any given day, any presentation can be more productive than another. The 150 Copper fished pretty easily and showed itself well; I think I will add a 75 Copper to the arsenal, too. By my calculations, that should swim about 20 or 25 feet down and be light enough to be fun, overall. It was a beautiful Indian Summer day; but the weather has turned. Cold temperatures and wind will likely change things up before I can get out there again. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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