May 29, 2011
By Bob Zettler[/B]
“Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!” Well that was what I was thinking about on Saturday, May 28 when I woke up at 3 AM for the drive down to Mount Vernon to go fishing for Crappie with my good friends, Nick Shafer and John Nolan. I mean, just last weekend I went down with my neighbor Ed and only caught eight keepers and we fished from 7:30 AM till Ed forced me off the lake around 5 PM. I had heard countless stories of limits of Crappie being taken over the past month by everyone and now they were saying the slabfest of the willows was over. And, if you would have based it solely on my personal experience from last weekend then you would most likely agree.
However, I am obsessed and stubborn. So much so that for the last five days I had been contemplating heading down with my own boat and try either by myself or, hopefully, with John Nolan as he knows the lake and could not only show me places but quite possibly show me what we had been doing wrong the week before. I would have loved to go with Nick but on the weekends he is usually guiding clients for Crappie or in a tournament and this Saturday he was in a tournament. So I kept pestering Nolan and he kept going back and forth of could he, would he and the like that right up to Friday morning he changed his mind twice before Noon! These youngsters...
Well, on Friday I had basically decided on going down hook or by crook on either Saturday or Sunday and between our text messages all morning and up until 1 PM, I still hadn't cornered John into committing for either day and then the miracle happened! No, I didn't lose any weight but the tournament Nick had been scheduled to fish was canceled! Bad for Nick but good for me as John convinced Nick to take the two of us if for nothing else to get me off his back...
So plans were made where I was to meet Nick at his house by 6:30 AM and that meant I had to leave early. Not hunting early, which was usually by 1:30 or 2:00 AM, but fishing early which was 3:30 AM. As it had been a long week, I hit the bed by 7 PM. Unfortunately, the excitement (and bladder) had me getting up every two hours but I did get some sleep and was on the road with my Krispy Kreme donuts before 3:30 AM.
When I arrived I was happy to see not only Nick but his friend from Ohio, Tom Greenwood who I had first met several years ago. Interestingly, that was the first time I ever hunted with Nick and John and they still tell stories about that one. No, not about my shooting prowess. You see they were calling in three geese that I saw before I dropped down and froze inside Nick's War Eagle and as I was watching the pair swing over and turn to come back at around 70 yards they said “kill them Bob!” Now this was the first time I had hunted with them but I wasn't going to kill a 70 yard goose so I just stood up and looked at them and a few seconds later four or five shots rang out and we were ducking falling geese. It seems that another group had responded to their calling and when the shot was called for me to shoot, no one had considered I was looking the other way! Que sera, sera.
It was a short drive to the Shell Station we usually meet at for hunting and fishing and I couldn't believe they had no minnows! Here it is the start of a three day holiday and no minnows! You gotta be kidding. No problem as we just went to the campground on the west side of the Lake and picked up 10 dozen and was on the water by 7:30 AM, the same time as a week before. Would we suffer the same fate, I mean the word was out that the spawn was over and the fish were leaving the brush? Or, would my friends put us on Crappie? Time would tell...
We turned north (I think) out of the ramp and hit some brush lining the banks in short order. Everyone had a pole and minnows was the special of the day. As I watched where and how the others placed their bait with a slip bobber (with a little less than two-foot of line and a weight just two-inches above the #2 hook) I placed my line first here and then there as the others were doing. Maybe 10 seconds or so in one spot and then into another hole in the brush hoping that a Crappie would bite. Now here is the rub, remember last week we took eight Crappie in 10 hours with me not getting even a bite for the first couple hours, well this week I caught the first one and it was a keeper!
What was different from last week? Well, for one thing I had the pros guiding me and there wasn't the 20 MPH constant winds out of the south for another. However, while both played a factor last week, I think the primary difference was how we fished as last week we simply didn't get into the brush like you needed to. Many times we simply held to the outside and fished the edges with a drop in here and then there and that isn't how you fish the flooded willows of Rend. And, yes, having a great guide like Nick makes all the difference in the world while last week poor John had to provide me with directions to spots around the lake by Cell phone, so it's hard to compare called in guiding to hands on!
For the next five hours we skipped around the lake hitting willow patches – some out in the open and others hidden from from the mainstream. You have to hand it to this trio as they have hunted and fished all over southern Illinois since they were kids – Tom grew up there with Nick – but these guys know their “stuff”! But with Nick up front manning the trolling motor and getting us into position, the front deck got crowded as it was the spot to fish from. There were times he couldn't move what with me on one side and either Tom of John on the other and that was when John started complaining. Not about the fishing but how I smelled; the son-of-a-_____! Sure, I hadn't showered before I left but I couldn't smell any worse that John who once went the whole time between deer seasons without showering – and he's proud of that!
Maybe, I was wrong as I could smell me every now and then as the winds whiffed around me but it was just some BO. Sure, I was wiping my hands on my shirt and shorts after handling the fish and minnows but fish slime is yucky! And as I was sitting up front of Nick's Skeeter to take the brunt of the winds as we flew across the lake in excess of 50 MPH I would catch a sniff or two but it cant be that bad now could it? And what was with all those snickers when John was behind my back re-baiting his pole? I mean the one time I thought Nick would fall out of the boat...
I digress as usual but it was that kind of morning as we loaded up with fish and even threw back dozens more while I held up my end and caught my share. And while it was a 180 degrees difference from last week where we only mustered EIGHT Crappie between the two of us in 10 long hours, the four of us were heading home just five hours after we started with a four-man limit of 100 Crappie! And while it had been a few years since the four of us had been on our first outing, no one had to point me in the right direction this time other than to get me started.
And while some had been saying it was over at Rend Lake for the spawn in the willows, it wasn't over till we said it was on this Memorial Day weekend. After all, as Bluto said in Animal House, “Cause when the goin' gets tough...the tough get goin'! Well, actually, Bob calls his friends or pesters them enough they take pity on him! Thanks again you guys.
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