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28 5 — Postimages) We eased out to 6 FOW, tossed out some jigs, SnG’s and a crankbait and trolled the rock edges as we worked our way back up to the orchards and the wading warriors. Halfway back I got decent white on a jig. Yippee, we had fresh bait!
The next 3 hours we tossed plastics into the rocks, almost to no avail. We had maybe 3 or 4 hits between us and one of them resulted in my second white bass of the day.
By 9 P.M. or so we had reached the L and still weren’t finding anything so I turned the boat west and when the water dropped off to 12 feet we put the cat gear back in, this time with fresh WB and renewed optimism. Again, nary a sniff for an hour. I looked at Jon and said: “In 50 degree water those cats are feeding somewhere. Let’s pull the gear and do a more drastic relocation.” It was the best decision of the trip. 15 Minutes later we started putting the gear back in the water a mile or so east of Lincoln harbor and in about 10 FOW. I pointed the boat south and we started searching for the right depth. 20 minutes of 0.5 to 0.8 MPH and nothing and then to our surprise my back rod went bendo! My second cat was a 23” Utah lake cookie cutter that was feeding in just under over 8 FOW. In the next 10 minutes Jon got 2 more around 27 inches. “Hey Jon, I think we found them,” I said with a grin.
We worked all the way into 3 FOW and got no more hits, but we started snagging all the rods on roots or sunken reeds, so we headed out again. When we got back to 10 FOW without any more hits, Jon said: “Maybe they are only hitting when we go south.” (Into the wind). We turned around and headed south again. That tack in produced 2 more nice cats so we turned around and went back out. Again, not a sniff going with the wind even though I tried to keep the strolling speed the same. At 10 FOW we turned around again and when we hit the 8.5 to 7.5 foot deep “zone” we got another cat and a couple of pop and drops.
We had been working our way in and out but also back west toward the harbor. We stopped going in shallow and just zig zagged through the zone, but it seemed we had lost the fish. It was almost midnight, so maybe they were smarter than us and had just gone to bed. We were starting to get cold and I was just about to say we should call it a night. I turned us back to a southerly direction for one last pass and cranked up the electric a little to compensate for bucking the wind. The wind slacked so I had over corrected and when I looked a few minutes later we were screaming along at 1.2 MPH. I muttered that I had us going too fast and cut it back a couple of notches. I had barely sat back down when I saw a funny tap on my back rod. I started to think the increased speed had excited a whitie, when I saw the rod tip stop moving. No jiggles and no bouncing on the bottom. Something was swimming with the bait. Just as I got the rod it started making a slow bend so I set the hook. It felt at first like dead weight or a large stick gliding through the water. “Could this be a big ole walleye?” I thought. The fish headed toward Jon’s side of the boat and he asked if he should reel in his rods. I told him I thought we were fine, it was way behind the boat and acting like it would make a wide slow swing to that side. 2 minutes later it was 100 feet out and running parallel to Jon’s side. “It’s out running the boat!” I joked to Jon. It hadn’t seemed excited yet so I leaned on the rod a little more to try to judge the size and nothing budged. “This could be a big fish,” I said with a grin. A minute later it turned back toward the boat in somewhat more of a run. I got back most of the line and then it just dogged for a minute or so and came up beside the boat like it was spent. In the dark I couldn’t see the body, but it was an impressive head. Jon leaned over to net it and just before the net hit the water it found its bearings and bolted straight for the big motor. I shoved the rod down quickly to keep the line from rubbing and almost lost my grip on the rod. I told Jon: “Guess she wasn’t done! I’m sure glad I changed out those spools just before dark. The 10 pound main line I had been using for trout might not have survived that run!” A short while later she was back beside the boat and Jon got her in the net. “That’s a big cat!” I said, “Great cat Jon answered.”
The board said 32” and the scale said 15 pounds! Tied for my PB in length and second best in weight! Definitely my biggest March cat to date. We did a few high fives, fished the pictures and released her to battle again. It was a memorable fight in 50 degree water. I hope we meet again when the water is warm! While we were taking pictures the south wind had suddenly gone from 5 to almost 20 and I told Jon we’d better head in. We got to the dock a little after 1 A.M. I had guessed wrong, the wind had died back down, but we both agreed it was the wiser decision. All the way in and back home, Jon was more excited that I was. “That one fish made the whole night worth it,” and “That’s the earliest you’ve ever broken 30” isn’t it!” I simply said, ”If this is any indication of how this cat season is going to play out, it will be a great one!”
