An Outdoorsman’s View on the River

An Outdoorsman’s view on the River - 02/03/14

I’ve never known a longer month, than January of this year. It dragged on endlessly with short days, limited sunlight and polar temperatures. Cold winds and arctic waves of low pressure devoured our house heat like a locust invasion. Frost formed on the inside of windows, while the outside temperatures struggled to get into the teens. I do not like being trapped indoors. Thankfully that has all come to an end and February is underway. I have finally been able to get outside, over the last few days. It is amazing how the simplest pleasures can turn a dreary outlook around to a positive one.

I made three trips to the hard water for perch last week. For the first time I was able to leave my ice creepers in the truck and walk on a snowy surface. Chippewa Bay was covered in a mixture of powdery and hard packed snow. One step would swallow my boots while the next one, put my feet back on top. There is no better workout. I used muscles that have been idle since fall and it felt very good to use them! A couple ventured out on the bay with cross country skis. They took a long trek out close to some islands, before returning with the wind at their backs. It was a beautiful day with a bright sun, but the wind was lean and mean. She blew in from the east shuffling the powdered snow to new locations. The fishing was too slow to mention, but I did land and release one pike. The perch were just not there that day.

 Saturday morning I went over to meet friends at Mud Bay, to try a new jigging spot. On my way over I got to experience one of those simple pleasures, which I mentioned earlier. A Snowy Owl was perched on a utility pole, just off of the road. It was the first time that I have seen one! For years I have been identifying birds and adding the sightings to my Peterson bird book. I stopped my truck and photographed the rare sight. The owl was very cooperative. It watched me and rotated its head in four different directions. This owl was not as white as many are; it had a good many black bars and black dots covering it. Its eyes were bright yellow and piercing, even from a long distance.

Today I went back and was able to get a better photo. I always carry a pad and if possible a camera, to record any unusual birds that I see. Again the owl was unconcerned over my presence. Unfortunately the sun was too bright (for the bird) and it squinted the whole time. They must be very difficult to see on the ground, with all of the snow that we have. Luck was on my side to see this one and it has been added to my book. My bride purchased our bird book thirty one years ago and it has truly enhanced my outdoor excursions. I can think of no better gift for a young person, to get them interested in the outdoors. In this time of electronic devices, even a gift of a book is a rarity! I’d bet you that if one were put into the right hands at an early age, it could make a world of difference.

Today was also a good day for seeing other wildlife. A lot of deer were out in the early afternoon. I counted over fifty in different locations. Some of them were lying down under brush while others stood in open fields, feeding. The snow and ice has made them concentrate on areas where the ground is somewhat open. One group seemed to be enjoying the day with some playful banter. One deer stood on its hind feet like a kangaroo and took swipes at another! I also saw a number of kestrels and red tailed hawks. Each time I try to get a photo of a red tail, they inevitably fly off. They wait until I just about have the camera in focus; all I get is the silhouette of flapping wings and a rear end. Sooner or later I’ll get the shot I’m looking for. Being a birder also teaches patience.

I took a photo today of the river from my boathouse deck. I thought that those of you in far off places would like to see the frozen river. Building that deck was one of my best investments on the river. I get out and keep it clear of snow and ice. When a good day comes along I walk out to the panoramic view and listen. Some days the ice grows and it does it with resounding booms. People say that it sounds like whales talking, I agree. Other days I wait until the sun sets and the morning doves go to roost. The orange light of day fades across the white canvas of snow, just a bit further to the north… each day.

 An ice fishing derby over the weekend brought out a number of ‘iced’ people. I saw some anglers over by Carleton Island on snow mobiles. They were there and setup by seven AM, spending most of the day out on the river. One group must have had children with them, as they left a tower of oddly built snow blocks. There are also other signs of human activity utilizing this unique winter playground. I could see ATV tracks out there as well as some cross country ski furrows. I should invest in a set of those. I think that it would be great to take a trek over to the island in the winter and have a lunch. Maybe I could get up enough leg strength and ambition to round the whole island. Now that would be something to write about!

Mike LaDue, Monday, February 03, 2014

Lack of Male Perch - 1/27/14

The January thaw was a refreshing break, but it was all too short. Today the wind is from the west and grasping the falling snow like sand. Blue skies are above, with sunshine to the south. My view of the river is only in my imagination, as it is being obliterated by a constant curtain of white. Most recent days have been well below freezing and have kept me in the confines of our cabin. Every time the thermometer gets a boost into the twenties, the wind tags along. I haven’t even gotten out on the river for a walk… yet. On the clear cold windless days I have (still) been watching the deer carcass out front. It has provided me with entertainment and at least a ‘feel’ of being out there, in nature.

A new predator has joined the cavalcade of diners to feast on the expired deer. A coyote came early in the week under a bright sun, to tear at the carcass. It is unusual to see one of them mid-day as I did; they are known to be primarily nocturnal. I took a chance and walked outside to sneak in for a decent photograph. It was ten degrees below zero and the snow squeaked under my foot prints, as if I were walking on Styrofoam. I thought that the carnivore would hear me and dart away. I used the cedar trees to shield my movement, which was slowly paced. Each time the coyote drove its muzzle into the deer flesh, I inched forward. Two crows were also eating along side the coyote and they did not tolerate my movement. When they left, the coyote merely took a short break to look around and then resumed eating.

The odd thing is that I have seen some uncommon bedfellows sharing the venison, side by side. An immature bald eagle sat on top of the deer, while two crows worked on the extremities. A mature eagle watched from the side, perhaps guarding the younger one. Neither eagle made a move on the crows…amazing to see. Yesterday just the crows remained by the now skeletal outline of the deer. During the nights this week it looks as if the coyotes had been busy. They have torn the carcass into pieces that are scattered over a larger area of the ice. Just a white and pink ribcage remains, where crows are picking it clean daily. It reminds me of the photographs of cattle that perished on the westward migration of settlers. This blue summer paradise has become a dry arid desert of winter. Blowing snow cuts like sand, the wind dries the hands and chaps the lips. As with the adventurous settlers of the west, a short shot of pain is worth all of the gain.

It drives me crazy that I can’t get out on the hard water to fish… there is so much good ice. Many recent winters have been void of thick ice and shortened the season due to it. This year it is a bitter cold, which temporarily keeps the jigging rods in the corner of the basement. I do have a portable ice shanty, but I’m afraid that I would be blown away, trolling my way to Canada in it! My last outing only produced a catch of four large perch, before I was forced off of the ice by the wind. All of those perch were all female. As a matter of fact every time I come home with perch, there are darn few males, even in the summer.

I began to wonder if there are any male perch around. Do they school separately? Are their numbers so low that I seldom catch one and how does or would that effect reproduction? One male in thirty females would be a daunting responsibility, don’t you think? My curiosity got the best of me so I contacted a biologist at the DEC. She did not have an answer and forwarded my question to two fishery biologists. It just took one day for me to get a reply.

This is the response that came from the first biologist. He said that male yellow perch seldom attain a length greater than seven to eight inches. ‘Most’ anglers do not keep perch until they are larger than that, so the lack of males in a ‘keeper’ bucket is not unusual. That notion had never occurred to me! I have long assumed that the larger pike and bass are females and l release them. I should have known that this might be applicable to perch as well.

The second response came from an Aquatic biologist. His answer was a bit more detailed. “This is an interesting question regarding yellow perch.” He said that gill netting on the St. Lawrence in the summer, reveals a similar pattern, it is unusual to catch males in the nets. “This is not a new thing; data indicates that this is how it has always been. Our typical net with perch will have 95-100% females.” He also said that during spring spawning they see equal numbers of males to females. So it seems that like many mammals, perch may also separate into gender groups, when procreation is not a priority. This would explain why many of us who encounter schools of perch find them of similar size!

I have noticed that in the tail end of the ice fishing season, the fish vary a great deal in size. I often have to weed out a dozen small perch before I get a good one. Now I know that they are males moving into the habitat, to commence the breeding process. We all like to keep perch that are over eight inches (I being one of them). Perhaps the anglers that keep the smaller ones are making for a better ratio, of males to females. It all is beginning to make sense to me, while I’m sitting here! Smaller fish are more vulnerable and will seek out dense weeds and cover to survive. They are at the mercy of what ever food is available there. Larger fish are better able to move about in schools to find a better food base. Logic would tell me that the small fish have a limited ability to get larger due to habitat and food resources. On top of that, if the smaller of the species is dominated by males then the survival rates of the females would be much greater. Now I understand why the perch population of the St. Lawrence thrives and continues to be a viable, self sustaining and renewable resource. What a River!       

 Mike LaDue, Monday, January 27, 2014