Fishing with my beauty and the Ambush

After seriously pushing myself this summer with lobster fishing, I made a decision this week to work my entire gang full over in order to free up a day in the middle of the week. Today as a result, was set aside for any adventure I could muster up. The winner of my possibilities: Take my oldest daughter bass fishing in the Old Town Ambush.

So I was up at 5 a.m. eager to get going, but I knew that the ladies in the house operated otherwise. After some coffee, internet, television, and other acts of readiness, my oldest turned the corner of the living room just after 8 a.m. with a true sense of excitement about our trip. We got some basics ready and kissed Mom goodbye. It was bass fishing time!

We did the traditional pit stop at the local convenience store and another break at Dunkin' Donuts. Once the necessities were attained, the landing found us just at 10 a.m. and we quickly prepared the Ambush for its second voyage.

After a quick jaunt down the stream, we entered the lake and met two other groups just finishing up their morning fishing. Undeterred by this unusual pressure, we hit the east side of the lake attacking rock structures and deeper flats. My daughter started out fierce but quickly lost the enthusiasm of casting only to take over with the kayak paddle. Every so often I'd hit the button on the trolling motor to right us while she continued to find every aquatic flower possible. As she commanded the Ambush, I continued to search for the bass in hopes to excite her about the day. Shortly thereafter, I scored a two pound largemouth bass and nearly landed two others. Fishing from a seating position in a hybrid canoe/kayak isn't quite the same as standing and trolling for fish. My guess is that I got too much slack in the line once the bass were on, both misses shook the hook as they went airbound.

Just before noontime, my beauty informed me that she was ready to hit the landing. As we motored in, more flowers found their way into the hold and I discovered the time together had very little to do about fishing but rather a few precious hours with the first born love of my life. I look forward to more times with both of my beauties. So next up, a trip with my youngest.

Take Care,

The Downeast Duck Hunter

Lobsters, lobsters, lobsters...

Sorry peeps for the lack of posting, but I've been neck deep in lobsterfishing and really have no useful things to post other than I'm waiting for my date for the Maine Guide Exam...

The good news is that lobsters came in early and I've been cranking them out in style so it looks like the new house will be finished earlier than expected...

Chances are that I won't be posting much until duck season rolls in, so take care and I'm declaring an excuse riddled sabbatical from blogging...

DEDH

The GLS experience Part Three...

Shortly after Rabid's brief moment astray of his typical hard hitting head smashing power metal music, we agreed to troll westward in a closer proximity of the camps. The mid to late afternoon bite completely disappeared and I quickly discovered the challenges surrounding the concept of down rigging as my setup hung up on bottom. It isn't easy to negotiate wind with an ailing motor while aptly monitoring a fish finder while adjusting a manual down rigger. Throw in constant badgering by the brotherhood of two and the inevitable happened. However, being an expert in retrieving hung down lobster gear, I was able to free the gear and save myself the embarrassment of being the second victim of a major fishing gear dismissal. By that time, I had lost my interest in attempting to score the lake trout especially when trying to battle the elements that were against me. So I took the time to once again document the Rabid Outdoorsman hard at work while his brother took on a lake trout.

Our evening found little wind and the first night excitement of any outing adventure. With the boats tied to the dock, fire pit blazing, and the elder sportsman in full control of the eatery, the night moved into something quite amazing. Loaded with smoked trout and salmon, a spread of processed meats and cheeses, and sharp pickled dilly beans, I found it absolutely impossible to even contemplate the main course. Meanwhile, my great friend Rabid managed to devour all offerings like it would be his last meal. The night moved on with some drinks and a continual barrage of teasing and slightly expanded storytelling or shall I say nut busting.

For my final installment, high winds, zero bites, and closing on one memorable trip.

The GLS experience Part Two...

The only aspect hindering my complete happiness was my new outboard motor which would perform with great superiority just above trolling speed or at 33 mph, and I wasn't here to win a drag race. Anything at idle or just above idle yielded problems and my troubleshooting brought futile results. But still I managed to steer the course, figuratively and literally speaking, and moored the vessel in a most scenic cove in the lee of the increasing wind that put a foot down on our efforts.

As I brewed up some coffee and canned soup, a discussion ensued that gave more clarity to the previous several hours that only two-way radios were abled to sparingly follow. Steve began the most excellent rendition of how Matty lost the big one and his entire rod and reel to boot. They spoke of this monstrosity of a salmon, but I'm inclined to believe they had caught bottom. But I humored the heated story as Matty continued to percolate much like the java that neared consumptive readiness. Then, without one moment to think, Steve turned quickly to his phone which has more features than a Swiss Army Knife. From the depths of his ITunes account arose some "Dirty" which took over Rabid's body like no other in a true fit of possession. The moves which I documented say it all...




Unfortunately, I'd like to continue my saga but the little beauties have requested the laptop so that they may get their morning fix at www.nickjr.com so until next time take care...



The Downeast Duck Hunter

Great friends, great place, great time... Part I

The  Rabid Outdoorsman  and I are the best of friends who now find ourselves in a world three hours apart. It would be obvious to suggest that our brotherhood only consists of multiple day jaunts in the Maine wilderness, but in a striking odd sense this distance has immensely enhanced our friendship in two significant ways.  The first being that we really discover that the quality of our conversations develop into a level of heightened understanding which continues to foster a stronger bond.  And secondly, our proximity in the state forces us to plan these seriously awesome voyages of great magnitude and meaning.  Through these two elements, I have been able to participate in new endeavors and claim opportunities of pursuit that may have never been realized.  For that, I'm thankful...

Our newest adventure put us upon one of the premier cold water fishing waters of our great state, West Grand Lake.  This behemoth gem in northeastern Washington county holds a great population of landlocked salmon and lake trout.  To heighten this opportunity, we were able to connect with a family member who is in charge of an immensely impressive sporting compound situated at the eastern point of this pristine lake.  With effective planning and preparation, we descended upon Grand Lake Stream last week with the hopes of making one trip to remember...

Friday morning began at daylight with a hasty launch of two boats and a cautious headway to our setting point.  Armed with lead core line, streamers, and flashers, the presentations were let out several hundred feet and the trolling speed was set around two miles per hour.  Within one hour, I brought in my first salmon at 17 inches connected to a set up left behind by my father-in-law who unfortunately is no longer with me.  This first score became far more important as I thought about how he would be with me for this catch, but then I realized that he was in fact participating and smiling at my early success...

We continued to work the eastern shore, the Bear Claw, towards one of favorite ice fishing spots, Hardwood Island.  My partners, Matt Diesel and Rabid lead the way about 100 yards in front and continued the success as they scored several more salmon with a planer board which drew their presentation next to shore.  Maintaining contact with two-way radios, we updated each other throughout the early morning and chose to continue northward to Whitney Cove, a spot that is renown and elusive at it sits in the extreme north end of West Grand Lake...

Before we made it to Whitney Cove, I managed another small salmon that ran about 15 inches after unsnarling one serious mess.  As one line was reeled in, another managed to find way into the scene.  In order to clear everything, all lines were cut and the salmon was brought in by hand similar to ice fishing with my ice traps....

The trek northward would land several nice lake trout for the boys and at that point I chose to enable my own downrigger.  Lunch was fast approaching and all seemed well...

Stay tuned for my next installment next week...

The Downeast Duck Hunter