What's the Catch?
Sometimes it's better to start at the end of the story and work backwards. So, let's get straight to the bottom line and give you the net gain (no pun intended) for our 10th Annual Road Trip. We exceeded our expectations. We ended up with 91 fish in the boat!
The total catch would have been more like 130 fish because we threw back most fish that were under 10 inches and all the perch we caught. You have to ask Rich and Wayne what they have against perch. When I protested they just stonewalled: "We don't fish for perch". What?
The fish came from three different lakes (which I will describe later) and comprised Rainbow and Brown Trout and, most beautiful of all, Kokanee Salmon, which we have never caught before. As always, the principal catchers were Rich and Wayne who just kept pulling them in. Rich was our expert helmsman and Wayne our indefatigable net man. Without casting any aspersions, I continued to specialize in catching the biggest fish and taking photographs!
Waitts Lake
This lake is about 5 miles away from our home base and has never let us down. We were particularly excited to go fishing here because we were going to test our "new" second-hand, jointly-owned, fishing boat with Tohatsu motor and trailer. Rich had bought this gem from a "little old lady" who had "hardly used it" after her hubby's death. Rich had already been out in the boat and declared it to be in perfect condition (i.e. it did not sink). I think we agreed to call it "Two Betties" after Rich's Mum and Wayne's sister.
I cannot divulge the price (we fear the tax authorities and our wives) but Wayne and I did have to take out third mortgages on our extensive properties in Virginia, D.C. and Cape May. Suffice it to say, the boat will not attract any personal property taxes in any of the above jurisdictions; and Schatz has kindly agreed to maintain it even when we are unable to be present in Washington State for 355 days of the year.
This boat will probably save our lives because we had to lift the old 2-ton metal boat into the back of Rich's truck--no mean feat for us old codgers now in our early 70s. The "new" boat just slips off the trailer into the water and is winched in when the day is done. This is progress.
Above is the fruit of our labors--15 beautiful Rainbow and Brown Trout. Please remember that we are only allowed to catch 5 each in any one day. It was during this first day of fishing that I began to perfect two new techniques--catching a fish without realizing it was on the line; and, more difficult, catching a fish when reeling in at the end of the day. Naturally, I was rubbished by Schatz and Rusch; but please note the large fish on the left of the photo above. That was the result of my other technique called "fishing with intent".
Within four hours of being hooked, some of these fish were being baked in the oven by Yvette with lemon, onions, pepper and salt. They were beyond delicious and equal to anything you might find in Legal Sea Food or Fiola Mare in D.C.
Curlew Lake
About 2.5 hours north of Bussard Lake you will find Curlew Lake. We had fished there last year and, in spite of high winds, rain and cold, we caught a ton of fish. We planned on doing the same this year. We were not disappointed.
We got out onto the lake late in the afternoon and the wind and clouds were looking a little threatening. Would our Tohatsu motor be up to these these windy and wavy conditions? No problem.
Tommy Tohatsu worked like a charm, exhibiting some real horse-power. Commodore Schatz maintained a steady course around the lake, hooking fish left right and center along with Wayne who netted them all. I continued to catch very few fish and concentrated on photography.
We chugged into our dock in the evening sun with about 8 good-sized trout. Not bad for our first few hours on the water. Rich did all the gutting and cleaning and we set out for Republic, a nearby town, for our BBQ dinner at "Freckles." We met up with our old friend Crystal from last year who runs the place and is now also the chef. You may remember that she had told us all about her partner who had run out on her and left her holding a pile of debt.
The next day we were on the water by 7AM and had caught six more fish by about 8.30AM when we returned to shore for breakfast at the little cafe at the resort. Our cook, a rather rotund lady called Julie, cooked us altogether too many pancakes and eggs which put us out of action for a couple of hours. We were talking to her and mentioned that we had been at "Freckles" the night before in Republic. We told her all about Crystal and another lady, Lisa, we met there who ran the high school debating team. "Yeah, I know Crystal. I used to be her partner. And I know Lisa too". These names were mentioned with a slight grimace.
Holy Mother! The two women who were cooking for us were deadly enemies! What were the chances of us finding Crystal's nemesis at a little fishing camp cafe 12 miles away from Republic? We quickly ran out of conversation. Better to keep quiet--we didn't want Julie doing anything bad to our food if she thought we were too chummy with Crystal and Lisa.
When we launched off again, this storm was brewing in the distance and there were whitecaps forming on the lake. The wind was getting up but Schatz seem unperturbed. Tommy Tohatsu was chugging away confidently and there was no cause for alarm.
We headed for the old railway trestle bridge which runs across the lake at the southern end and fished there for a while. Several other fishing boats passed under the trestle bridge and we thought it might be a good idea to try fishing on the other side too.
Not too long after we got to the other side, Tommy Tohatsu conked out on us. In spite of Schatz's best efforts at tugging on the starter cord, Tommy Tohatsu was not responding. We were at least two miles from where we had set out and the prospect of rowing back there with a stiff wind against us was more than Schatz and I could think about. So, we quickly resolved that young Wayne should row.
But first we laid up at a deserted dock and Wayne got out to see what help may be at hand. He was talking to a lady for at least 20 minutes on shore. Rich and I were imagining that she would give us lunch and then run us and our boat back to Shady Pines Resort. But Wayne came back and said "Nothing doing". Wayne volunteered to walk back to get the truck and trailer while Schatz and I would stay with the boat. "Why don't you give it one more pull?" I asked rather hesitantly, not really wanting to sit there for an hour of so while Wayne wandered around the countryside. Rich pulled twice and, lo and behold, Tommy Tohatsu roared back into life like some wounded samurai rising up to fight again. Wayne and I jumped into the boat and we chugged back under the trestle bridge and were just congratulating ourselves on our luck when Tommy Tohatsu died again.
We were half way home but the wind was still blowing. There was no other alternative--Wayne had to row! And row he did, like a man who feared drowning. After about 10 minutes, Schatz tried the engine again and it fired up, no problem.
We proceeded home in this jagged fashion with Wayne rowing part of the time and Tommy Tohatsu alternately working, spluttering and dying. But the small miracle was that Rich and Wayne (when not rowing) continued to catch fish on the way home--and I actually managed to catch a small fish as I reeled up just before we reached our home dock. We were racking up the fish catch! The next morning was equally good but we had to pack up and leave shortly after 1PM.
Curlew Lake, in spite of wind and waves, had been kind to us for a second year in a row. I think we went home with about 30 fish this year but we had also hooked a lot that did not make it to the boat and, of course, all perch were made to walk the plank.
On the way back home to Bussard Lake, we crossed the Columbia River on a free car ferry. I just love Washington State--or the Good Washington as Schatz calls it. While we were waiting for the ferry to come, we got talking to a big, fat, smug guy in the blue truck above, pulling his big Hewes motor boat with a 150 hp engine on the back. He was sitting next to his trophy wife and telling us all about how successful he had been and generally coming across as a dickhead.
There was another woman in the car and she got out and walked back to look at our boat--the "Two Betties" sitting there in the shadow of the big red Hewes trophy boat. "Oh my," she said in a squeaky little voice, "ah dunno how you three guys ken fit in that li'lle boat o' yours". (I can't quite replicate her accent but I doubt that she had gone to Browns). Talk about a blow to our manhood. Little boat translated into little something else in our minds. Goddamit, that was our brand new second hand boat with the mighty Tommy Tohatsu on the back. The cheek of it. I won't tell you what Rich and Wayne said but I don't think they went to Browns either.
Lake Conconully
All the above was mere preface to Lake Conconully (below), the legendary lake "up North" near the Canadian border. We had left Tommy Tohatsu back at Deer Lake near Rich's house for repair. Instead, he brought his electric motor which we had used many times in the past. It is completely silent and that is bliss when you are fishing on a quiet lake in pristine country. However, it is not all that powerful in a blow so we just hoped that we would not meet conditions like we had at Curlew Lake--or Wayne might be rowing big time--again.
Rich had fished here as a kid with his father and with Uncle Wayne, a legendary fisherman himself. Uncle Wayne was not actually Rich's uncle but his brother in law who was married to Linda. Sadly, Uncle Wayne passed on some years ago but Rich has regaled us with his fishing wisdom on many occasions as we sit around waiting for fish. "Wait until the line tugs five times". "Don't jerk the line, bring it in slowly". "Get the net under the fish".
This last piece of advice from Uncle Wayne became painfully memorable on our second day out on Lake Conconully when I failed to get the net under Wayne's big rainbow trout (we saw it!) as it thrashed around by the side of the boat and then slightly underneath it. "Ian, get the net under it, under it. Iaaaaaaaan!" The fish came unhooked in all the commotion and with me furiously thrashing the net around in the water.
Wayne was crestfallen. He was not a happy camper and Newport was no longer trusted with the net. In fact, even though Rich was not in a good position to net, the net was duly passed to him at the stern of the boat whenever Wayne was reeling in a fish.
I took this photo just before the "incident". Suddenly, Wayne hooks a fish and starts reeling it in. As usual when someone has hooked a fish, I start reeling in my line to get it out of the way before the fish is "landed". Rich was turning the boat to get it in the best position for netting the fish. I heard Wayne yell: "Get the net out. Get the net out". I was still reeling in, Schatz was still aligning the boat and one way or another neither of us got to the net in time. There was a howl from Wayne. "It's off the hook. It's gone, goddamit, it's gone."
Oh boy. Wayne was really not a happy camper. When Rich attempted to explain what had been going on, Wayne comes out with a one-liner that sort of freezes the air over Lake Conconully. "What part of 'get the net out' didn't you understand?" I had to smother a smile because Wayne really meant it and was not appreciating the dark humor of the situation just then.
Rich, being something of a provocateur, said very gently but with a slight bantering lilt in his voice, "Now Wayne, let me tell you...." but he was cut off by Wayne. "Seriously, did nobody hear me say 'get the net out'. Could I have been any clearer than that?" You may not believe it but this was the high point of the trip. It perfectly encapsulated what fishing is all about. It gave rise to Schatz's constant quips about "get the net out" and he only had to say it later and we all fell about laughing.
It was nearly surpassed by another incident when Wayne himself failed to net one of Rich's fish and, in utter frustration, started pounding the water with the net while uttering epithets that cannot be included in a family blog. It was hilarious but, naturally, you say nothing at the time because you don't want Wayne slamming you over the head with the net and capsizing the boat.
But the big news was that we caught, for the very first time on any Annual Road Trip and in Rich's long experience on this lake, the most beautiful Kokanee Salmon a.k.a. "Silvers". I am not about to bore you with a long Wikipedia explanation but they are a land-locked version of Sockeye Salmon. I can't resist this quote from orvis.com on the Kokanee attributes.
"Although smaller than sockeyes, kokanees fight with the same powerful ferocity as their seagoing brethren. Upon feeling the hook, a kokanee typically launches itself into the air for a series of twisting, acrobatic leaps, and the fish’s swimming speed will test your reel’s drag".
They really did put up a fight like no other fish that we have ever hooked. The sight of a big "Silver" leaping into the air as you reel her in and then fighting you every inch of the way is something to behold and feel. To our horror, they are also very adept at getting off the hook. In fact, Wayne could not get over the fact that any Kokanee that we managed to get into the boat just came off the hook all by themselves. When we got them back to Bussard Lake, we baked them in the oven and they just melted in your mouth.
I could go on and on about the joys of Lake Conconully but this blog is already too long. You have the flavor and sense of our days on this lake--both ups and downs--but nothing can convey the utter calm of that lake early in the morning when the fish are just waking up and you are the only boat out on the water. It is as close to heaven as we mortals are allowed to come here on earth.
Homeward Bound
We had agreed that we would go home via a route which would bring us near the Grand Coulee Dam. Ever since I was a teenager, I had heard about this dam and, of course, it was the subject of a folk song which was composed by Woodie Guthrie and later sung by everyone from Lonnie Donegan to Bob Dylan and others.
I knew it would be huge but nothing quite prepared me for this immense dam which held back the mighty Columbia River. Standing way above the town of Grand Coulee on this outcrop of rock was absolutely breathtaking. Well worth a 40 mile detour!
And I cannot resist including this photo of Johnny, Rich and Yvette's Red Setter who was anxiously awaiting our arrival in the evening sun after our second successful road trip. Naturally, he was unimpressed by the fish but did enjoy our return to the real world. Man's best friend, indeed.
Waitts Lake Redux
Wayne had to go home a couple of days before I also left for D.C. On my last full day, Rich and I returned to Waitts Lake for one last fishing expedition. We were down to two fishermen and that meant that we could only catch 5 trout each. (Sadly, no Kokanee Salmon in Waitts Lake).
We headed out from the launch area and I was still letting out my line when Schatz hooks a fish. Great! You don't usually catch a fish within seconds of launching off. We were off to a good start. Wrong. There was no "we" on this trip. Schatz proceeded in the next hour or so to catch 10 fish in a row. My only job was to open the lid of the ice chest. Was I just chopped liver?
Actually, I was not chopped liver. Who do you think was netting all those fish? Who was getting the net under all those fish. As Schatz later reported to Rusch back in D.C: "Newport's netting was flawless". Flawless. I couldn't believe my ears. I had been redeemed.
However, you might have worked out by now that Schatz had, all by himself, used up our total quota of fish. I was not overly worried. So what, I rarely caught all that many fish anyway. We looked around the lake to see if there were any Wildlife Rangers with binoculars and Schatz told me to "keep fishing". So, I continued to fish and finally caught a small rainbow which Schatz magnanimously allowed me to keep. Now we had 11 fish. Only a little bit illegal.
We were heading home and as we got close to shore I started reeling in. It was then that I felt an almighty tug on my line and, against everything that Uncle Wayne had advised, I jerked the line in excitement and started reeling in at a furious pace. Schatz was multitasking, turning the boat to align it, reeling in his own line, and also getting out the net without me even shouting at him. With one deft swoop of the extended net he brought up one big, beautiful rainbow trout. That's the way it should be done.
It was a perfect ending--especially as it was the biggest fish of the day!! Isn't that how all fisherman's tales are supposed end? And a fond farewell to "Two Betties" until next year. She proved herself time and again, in spite of being a second hand "little boat" with peeling paint and a defective engine. We shall be back for many more adventures in the next decade of Annual Road Trips.
And, as always, we have to recognize Commodore Schatz who organizes the whole trip, plans the routes, books the cabins, provides all the gear and generally bosses us about. A big thank you also to Yvette who cooks and cares for us; to Linda who lends us her cabin and makes huge rhubarb pies to keep us going; and to Kirstine and Reimes for their warm welcome and perceptive insights into our failings!
NOTE: the original of this blog was published on June 17, 2017.
Sometimes it's better to start at the end of the story and work backwards. So, let's get straight to the bottom line and give you the net gain (no pun intended) for our 10th Annual Road Trip. We exceeded our expectations. We ended up with 91 fish in the boat!
The total catch would have been more like 130 fish because we threw back most fish that were under 10 inches and all the perch we caught. You have to ask Rich and Wayne what they have against perch. When I protested they just stonewalled: "We don't fish for perch". What?
Waitts Lake
This lake is about 5 miles away from our home base and has never let us down. We were particularly excited to go fishing here because we were going to test our "new" second-hand, jointly-owned, fishing boat with Tohatsu motor and trailer. Rich had bought this gem from a "little old lady" who had "hardly used it" after her hubby's death. Rich had already been out in the boat and declared it to be in perfect condition (i.e. it did not sink). I think we agreed to call it "Two Betties" after Rich's Mum and Wayne's sister.
I cannot divulge the price (we fear the tax authorities and our wives) but Wayne and I did have to take out third mortgages on our extensive properties in Virginia, D.C. and Cape May. Suffice it to say, the boat will not attract any personal property taxes in any of the above jurisdictions; and Schatz has kindly agreed to maintain it even when we are unable to be present in Washington State for 355 days of the year.
This boat will probably save our lives because we had to lift the old 2-ton metal boat into the back of Rich's truck--no mean feat for us old codgers now in our early 70s. The "new" boat just slips off the trailer into the water and is winched in when the day is done. This is progress.
Above is the fruit of our labors--15 beautiful Rainbow and Brown Trout. Please remember that we are only allowed to catch 5 each in any one day. It was during this first day of fishing that I began to perfect two new techniques--catching a fish without realizing it was on the line; and, more difficult, catching a fish when reeling in at the end of the day. Naturally, I was rubbished by Schatz and Rusch; but please note the large fish on the left of the photo above. That was the result of my other technique called "fishing with intent".
Within four hours of being hooked, some of these fish were being baked in the oven by Yvette with lemon, onions, pepper and salt. They were beyond delicious and equal to anything you might find in Legal Sea Food or Fiola Mare in D.C.
Curlew Lake
About 2.5 hours north of Bussard Lake you will find Curlew Lake. We had fished there last year and, in spite of high winds, rain and cold, we caught a ton of fish. We planned on doing the same this year. We were not disappointed.
We got out onto the lake late in the afternoon and the wind and clouds were looking a little threatening. Would our Tohatsu motor be up to these these windy and wavy conditions? No problem.
Tommy Tohatsu worked like a charm, exhibiting some real horse-power. Commodore Schatz maintained a steady course around the lake, hooking fish left right and center along with Wayne who netted them all. I continued to catch very few fish and concentrated on photography.
We chugged into our dock in the evening sun with about 8 good-sized trout. Not bad for our first few hours on the water. Rich did all the gutting and cleaning and we set out for Republic, a nearby town, for our BBQ dinner at "Freckles." We met up with our old friend Crystal from last year who runs the place and is now also the chef. You may remember that she had told us all about her partner who had run out on her and left her holding a pile of debt.
The next day we were on the water by 7AM and had caught six more fish by about 8.30AM when we returned to shore for breakfast at the little cafe at the resort. Our cook, a rather rotund lady called Julie, cooked us altogether too many pancakes and eggs which put us out of action for a couple of hours. We were talking to her and mentioned that we had been at "Freckles" the night before in Republic. We told her all about Crystal and another lady, Lisa, we met there who ran the high school debating team. "Yeah, I know Crystal. I used to be her partner. And I know Lisa too". These names were mentioned with a slight grimace.
Holy Mother! The two women who were cooking for us were deadly enemies! What were the chances of us finding Crystal's nemesis at a little fishing camp cafe 12 miles away from Republic? We quickly ran out of conversation. Better to keep quiet--we didn't want Julie doing anything bad to our food if she thought we were too chummy with Crystal and Lisa.
When we launched off again, this storm was brewing in the distance and there were whitecaps forming on the lake. The wind was getting up but Schatz seem unperturbed. Tommy Tohatsu was chugging away confidently and there was no cause for alarm.
We headed for the old railway trestle bridge which runs across the lake at the southern end and fished there for a while. Several other fishing boats passed under the trestle bridge and we thought it might be a good idea to try fishing on the other side too.
Not too long after we got to the other side, Tommy Tohatsu conked out on us. In spite of Schatz's best efforts at tugging on the starter cord, Tommy Tohatsu was not responding. We were at least two miles from where we had set out and the prospect of rowing back there with a stiff wind against us was more than Schatz and I could think about. So, we quickly resolved that young Wayne should row.
But first we laid up at a deserted dock and Wayne got out to see what help may be at hand. He was talking to a lady for at least 20 minutes on shore. Rich and I were imagining that she would give us lunch and then run us and our boat back to Shady Pines Resort. But Wayne came back and said "Nothing doing". Wayne volunteered to walk back to get the truck and trailer while Schatz and I would stay with the boat. "Why don't you give it one more pull?" I asked rather hesitantly, not really wanting to sit there for an hour of so while Wayne wandered around the countryside. Rich pulled twice and, lo and behold, Tommy Tohatsu roared back into life like some wounded samurai rising up to fight again. Wayne and I jumped into the boat and we chugged back under the trestle bridge and were just congratulating ourselves on our luck when Tommy Tohatsu died again.
We were half way home but the wind was still blowing. There was no other alternative--Wayne had to row! And row he did, like a man who feared drowning. After about 10 minutes, Schatz tried the engine again and it fired up, no problem.
We proceeded home in this jagged fashion with Wayne rowing part of the time and Tommy Tohatsu alternately working, spluttering and dying. But the small miracle was that Rich and Wayne (when not rowing) continued to catch fish on the way home--and I actually managed to catch a small fish as I reeled up just before we reached our home dock. We were racking up the fish catch! The next morning was equally good but we had to pack up and leave shortly after 1PM.
Curlew Lake, in spite of wind and waves, had been kind to us for a second year in a row. I think we went home with about 30 fish this year but we had also hooked a lot that did not make it to the boat and, of course, all perch were made to walk the plank.
On the way back home to Bussard Lake, we crossed the Columbia River on a free car ferry. I just love Washington State--or the Good Washington as Schatz calls it. While we were waiting for the ferry to come, we got talking to a big, fat, smug guy in the blue truck above, pulling his big Hewes motor boat with a 150 hp engine on the back. He was sitting next to his trophy wife and telling us all about how successful he had been and generally coming across as a dickhead.
There was another woman in the car and she got out and walked back to look at our boat--the "Two Betties" sitting there in the shadow of the big red Hewes trophy boat. "Oh my," she said in a squeaky little voice, "ah dunno how you three guys ken fit in that li'lle boat o' yours". (I can't quite replicate her accent but I doubt that she had gone to Browns). Talk about a blow to our manhood. Little boat translated into little something else in our minds. Goddamit, that was our brand new second hand boat with the mighty Tommy Tohatsu on the back. The cheek of it. I won't tell you what Rich and Wayne said but I don't think they went to Browns either.
Lake Conconully
All the above was mere preface to Lake Conconully (below), the legendary lake "up North" near the Canadian border. We had left Tommy Tohatsu back at Deer Lake near Rich's house for repair. Instead, he brought his electric motor which we had used many times in the past. It is completely silent and that is bliss when you are fishing on a quiet lake in pristine country. However, it is not all that powerful in a blow so we just hoped that we would not meet conditions like we had at Curlew Lake--or Wayne might be rowing big time--again.
Rich had fished here as a kid with his father and with Uncle Wayne, a legendary fisherman himself. Uncle Wayne was not actually Rich's uncle but his brother in law who was married to Linda. Sadly, Uncle Wayne passed on some years ago but Rich has regaled us with his fishing wisdom on many occasions as we sit around waiting for fish. "Wait until the line tugs five times". "Don't jerk the line, bring it in slowly". "Get the net under the fish".
This last piece of advice from Uncle Wayne became painfully memorable on our second day out on Lake Conconully when I failed to get the net under Wayne's big rainbow trout (we saw it!) as it thrashed around by the side of the boat and then slightly underneath it. "Ian, get the net under it, under it. Iaaaaaaaan!" The fish came unhooked in all the commotion and with me furiously thrashing the net around in the water.
Wayne was crestfallen. He was not a happy camper and Newport was no longer trusted with the net. In fact, even though Rich was not in a good position to net, the net was duly passed to him at the stern of the boat whenever Wayne was reeling in a fish.
I took this photo just before the "incident". Suddenly, Wayne hooks a fish and starts reeling it in. As usual when someone has hooked a fish, I start reeling in my line to get it out of the way before the fish is "landed". Rich was turning the boat to get it in the best position for netting the fish. I heard Wayne yell: "Get the net out. Get the net out". I was still reeling in, Schatz was still aligning the boat and one way or another neither of us got to the net in time. There was a howl from Wayne. "It's off the hook. It's gone, goddamit, it's gone."
Oh boy. Wayne was really not a happy camper. When Rich attempted to explain what had been going on, Wayne comes out with a one-liner that sort of freezes the air over Lake Conconully. "What part of 'get the net out' didn't you understand?" I had to smother a smile because Wayne really meant it and was not appreciating the dark humor of the situation just then.
Rich, being something of a provocateur, said very gently but with a slight bantering lilt in his voice, "Now Wayne, let me tell you...." but he was cut off by Wayne. "Seriously, did nobody hear me say 'get the net out'. Could I have been any clearer than that?" You may not believe it but this was the high point of the trip. It perfectly encapsulated what fishing is all about. It gave rise to Schatz's constant quips about "get the net out" and he only had to say it later and we all fell about laughing.
It was nearly surpassed by another incident when Wayne himself failed to net one of Rich's fish and, in utter frustration, started pounding the water with the net while uttering epithets that cannot be included in a family blog. It was hilarious but, naturally, you say nothing at the time because you don't want Wayne slamming you over the head with the net and capsizing the boat.
But the big news was that we caught, for the very first time on any Annual Road Trip and in Rich's long experience on this lake, the most beautiful Kokanee Salmon a.k.a. "Silvers". I am not about to bore you with a long Wikipedia explanation but they are a land-locked version of Sockeye Salmon. I can't resist this quote from orvis.com on the Kokanee attributes.
"Although smaller than sockeyes, kokanees fight with the same powerful ferocity as their seagoing brethren. Upon feeling the hook, a kokanee typically launches itself into the air for a series of twisting, acrobatic leaps, and the fish’s swimming speed will test your reel’s drag".
They really did put up a fight like no other fish that we have ever hooked. The sight of a big "Silver" leaping into the air as you reel her in and then fighting you every inch of the way is something to behold and feel. To our horror, they are also very adept at getting off the hook. In fact, Wayne could not get over the fact that any Kokanee that we managed to get into the boat just came off the hook all by themselves. When we got them back to Bussard Lake, we baked them in the oven and they just melted in your mouth.
I could go on and on about the joys of Lake Conconully but this blog is already too long. You have the flavor and sense of our days on this lake--both ups and downs--but nothing can convey the utter calm of that lake early in the morning when the fish are just waking up and you are the only boat out on the water. It is as close to heaven as we mortals are allowed to come here on earth.
Homeward Bound
We had agreed that we would go home via a route which would bring us near the Grand Coulee Dam. Ever since I was a teenager, I had heard about this dam and, of course, it was the subject of a folk song which was composed by Woodie Guthrie and later sung by everyone from Lonnie Donegan to Bob Dylan and others.
I knew it would be huge but nothing quite prepared me for this immense dam which held back the mighty Columbia River. Standing way above the town of Grand Coulee on this outcrop of rock was absolutely breathtaking. Well worth a 40 mile detour!
And I cannot resist including this photo of Johnny, Rich and Yvette's Red Setter who was anxiously awaiting our arrival in the evening sun after our second successful road trip. Naturally, he was unimpressed by the fish but did enjoy our return to the real world. Man's best friend, indeed.
Waitts Lake Redux
Wayne had to go home a couple of days before I also left for D.C. On my last full day, Rich and I returned to Waitts Lake for one last fishing expedition. We were down to two fishermen and that meant that we could only catch 5 trout each. (Sadly, no Kokanee Salmon in Waitts Lake).
We headed out from the launch area and I was still letting out my line when Schatz hooks a fish. Great! You don't usually catch a fish within seconds of launching off. We were off to a good start. Wrong. There was no "we" on this trip. Schatz proceeded in the next hour or so to catch 10 fish in a row. My only job was to open the lid of the ice chest. Was I just chopped liver?
Actually, I was not chopped liver. Who do you think was netting all those fish? Who was getting the net under all those fish. As Schatz later reported to Rusch back in D.C: "Newport's netting was flawless". Flawless. I couldn't believe my ears. I had been redeemed.
However, you might have worked out by now that Schatz had, all by himself, used up our total quota of fish. I was not overly worried. So what, I rarely caught all that many fish anyway. We looked around the lake to see if there were any Wildlife Rangers with binoculars and Schatz told me to "keep fishing". So, I continued to fish and finally caught a small rainbow which Schatz magnanimously allowed me to keep. Now we had 11 fish. Only a little bit illegal.
We were heading home and as we got close to shore I started reeling in. It was then that I felt an almighty tug on my line and, against everything that Uncle Wayne had advised, I jerked the line in excitement and started reeling in at a furious pace. Schatz was multitasking, turning the boat to align it, reeling in his own line, and also getting out the net without me even shouting at him. With one deft swoop of the extended net he brought up one big, beautiful rainbow trout. That's the way it should be done.
It was a perfect ending--especially as it was the biggest fish of the day!! Isn't that how all fisherman's tales are supposed end? And a fond farewell to "Two Betties" until next year. She proved herself time and again, in spite of being a second hand "little boat" with peeling paint and a defective engine. We shall be back for many more adventures in the next decade of Annual Road Trips.
And, as always, we have to recognize Commodore Schatz who organizes the whole trip, plans the routes, books the cabins, provides all the gear and generally bosses us about. A big thank you also to Yvette who cooks and cares for us; to Linda who lends us her cabin and makes huge rhubarb pies to keep us going; and to Kirstine and Reimes for their warm welcome and perceptive insights into our failings!
NOTE: the original of this blog was published on June 17, 2017.
Love the fishing and boat acquisition episodes..
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