Flowers and Fish - June 01, 2014

The grass is green and I have been after it about three times a week. My lawn is what could be called ‘postal stamp’ in size. It is by far the smallest lawn I have ever had to tend to. What makes the ‘cutting’ experience challenging is all of the added obstacles. My bride is an avid flower gardener and yearly she adds more to the property. “You cut down my hibiscus again! I even had a metal marker there to show you where it was.” When this happens I duck my head in shame and try to move on with life. “I see that you are also getting too close to the pachysandra. I have been working on that bed for years and just now have it where I want it.” “Those vines will continue out over the lawn and swallow the cabin, if I don’t trim them back from time to time. I am sorry about the hibiscus but we have to come to a compromise on the other.” My bride could see that my sorry face was saddened, having let her down and consoled me; “Why don’t you get in the boat and go fishing? Before she could turn away I was gone.

Not only did I get out once but three times last week. I was hoping to find some perch but had little success in finding any. One evening I caught two that were not much bigger than my jig. The next day I found a school but they too where all in the six inch range. After poking about a bit I caught a small mouth bass from another spot. The area was loaded with bass! Four of them followed the fish to the boat, gliding along the bottom. The one on the hook was hefty female at about four pounds. The other smaller bass chased her as soon as she went back into the river. It looked like the small mouth were staging to spawn and selecting sites; they are back in good numbers.

Today I got out on the river a bit after 9AM, to try again. There were still no perch but it was a fine day to bob around in the sun. I tried several locations around Carleton Island, just putting along and watching the bottom for fish. I found bass in schools and a few lumbering pike attached to the bottom, looking like logs. A ship passed me and trailed off down river with a smoke stream in tow. I was surprised by the lack of wake from the big steel hulled vessel. There were pleasure boats that went by leaving bigger ones. Perhaps they have been slowed down to lessen shore erosion.

Up by Fort Haldimand the lilacs were in full bloom, clinging to a rock ledge where they have been for many years. I wonder who had planted them and if they were as old as the bygone fort. Were they from the French or English soldiers as a reminder of home? The light purple flowers grace the island in a long hedge row, as wild as the river herself. I dropped a line with a rubber minnow; it was taken by a northern pike. The taunt line began to peel off of the reel. This was a surprise; I was in shallow water and never expected a pike to be there. This was a good test for my newest ultra light rod.

My setup was intended for perch, with four pound test on a four foot rod, not a 30” pike. The graphite rod bent and did a fine job absorbing the dashing runs of the fish. I had it to the surface and was about to take a photo when it took one more dive. The jig came loose from the fish’s jaw and everything went slack. I watched the pike settle back down to the bottom where it soon blended in with all of the green surroundings. One thing is for sure from the experience; I will have a lot of fun this season with my new rod and reel. All I need now is some perch to come back…

Back at my dock the wild columbine have been blooming. I so admire them for their structure and colors. They are a unique flower that has always reminded me of a jester’s hat. Each year they rebound and each year I am always thrilled to see them. Somehow they are able to cling to very little soil on the bank, which is quit steep. There have been times when the blooms have been small and fragile. This year they are as full as I have ever seen a wild variety get… just perfect. My bride and I have been working on flower beds around the cabin. Each of has gone a bit overboard with our purchases. Who can blame us after the winter that the river saw. There is nothing like brilliant blooms to push away the memory of iced roads, broken trees and months of snow.

Driving to a greenhouse yesterday I mentioned that one would never believe a winter ever happened. “Look how green it all is now, from the grass to the tops of the trees. It is easy to forget the short winter that we enjoyed.” A cold as February stare came my way; “What do you mean ‘we’ enjoyed? I remember you mopping around the cabin with nothing to do and complaining about how stark the world looked. You even complained about having too much ice to fish on!” When we got to the green house I scooped up a variety of flowers, she grabbed some new hostas. Together we buried the long winter under the splendid table that is spring turning into summer.

Mike LaDue, Sunday, June 01, 201

End of the Ice 04-13-14

The ice fishing season has come to a close. I took advantage of the late ice last week, for a few more attempts. Three days at Chippewa Bay produced some hefty perch, just not in large numbers. I do not remember another season when I was able to fish into April. Snow geese have made their migration and some spent a few days along the river. The ice has been an issue for ship traffic too. There have many days where I have seen them stacked up facing the flow, waiting. I presume the constant shifting of large ice chunks have made progress nearly impossible at times.

The river will open up in certain locations during the day, when it is warm. Ice comes in from the lake and piles up against the remaining ice pad. Each day it looks different and some mornings it appears to be solid, out to the channel. This morning I watched an ice breaker make another run up-river. Just minutes behind, two red CSL freighters followed the smaller vessel out to the lake. A bit of wind and rain is all that is needed to saturate the ice and send it on its way. The ice has changed color and is now dark enough to drink in the warmth of the sun. It looks dark green to almost black and the river below is rising through small open crevices.  Soon I will see the bright blue river surface that comes with spring. I am more than ready…

Snow geese have come through in large numbers this year. For a change, some of them actually spent a few days along the river to feed and rest. On one bright sunny day I watched a large mixed flock of Canada’s and Snow’s take flight, headed inland. It looked like a swarm of bees tumbling across the sky or a locust invasion. The sound was absolutely magnificent! In a few scattered flocks of snows I noticed some Blue geese mixed in. The blue goose is a darker color phase of the snow goose, still the same species. When fishing was slow I had my eyes to the sky each time a flock passed overhead. Some of them were so high that the only way I knew they were there, was by the constant high pitched gabbing.

Usually in mid-March I find the big female perch in good numbers. That was not the case this year. From many locations I have heard the same. “The fish are there but they will just not bite.” Tuesday I iced four perch that were nice keepers. It rained that morning and I was so soaked by noon, that I called it a day. Wednesday my fishing buddy (Ernie) had his best day of the season, he took home 32 dandies. He has been up several times and his grin more than made up for the fishless days he has endured. I kept 17 that were between 9” and 11” that day. Thursday we were at it again. Ernie was on the ice at daybreak and I joined him around 10:30. This turned out to be my day, Ernie tried everything he could, but I kept catching the fish. The perch were taking my jig like hungry wolves.

 Anything under 9” and anything over 11” went back into the bay. I came home with 14 perch that filled my five gallon bucket to a third. It was a warm generous day and a darn good one to have for the last trip out. I even got a suntan on my hands, which looked odd in the shower the next morning. It was not a stellar year for perch through the ice, but the many trips helped to whittle away the winter. Now I will have to wait for all of the various fish to get the breeding done and work up an appetite. Sometime in May I’ll be back out in the Lyman and begin my search during the ‘other’ season. From now until then I’ll be getting the remnants of winter and ice damage cleaned up and out of mind.

The ground here is still harboring some ice and snow. This is one very brown spring. Between the mud, brown grass and leafless trees it looks like a barren lifeless world. The rabbits are so properly attired that they can be hard to see, even when right in front of me! While grilling on a nice afternoon, a bunny came to within five feet of me in the driveway. It was picking up the seeds from the cedar trees trying to fill a hungry belly. I had one old apple left in my fridge so I brought it out and sliced it up. I threw the apple to the ground and that rabbit was in heaven. It ate only one piece and then scaled the rock wall above my cabin. Rabbits turn out, are darn good climbers!

 I never would have imagined that one could zip up a rock wall with such ease. Another one was ‘stuck’ in my fenced garden a few days back. I figured that I needed to raise a corner so that the poor bugger could get out. When I did just that the rabbit reached up and climbed over the fence with hardly an effort. This my friend, may turn into a nightmare. Rabbits that can climb fences with such ease will have no problem plucking my produce, proficiently, purposely and positively barren…

Mike LaDue, Sunday, April 13, 2014 

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