Sarley: Another time I found myself in trouble on a big lake
Since I found out that you kind folks enjoyed my tale of a near-tragic outing on Lake Superior, I reached back into my memory bank for another story on another lake.
A couple decades ago, I had the honor of being invited to participate in the inaugural championship tournament for the RCL fishing circuit. It was the most lucrative walleye fishing tournament in history, featuring the biggest names in the world of professional fishing.
The winning pro angler could pocket $400,000. The winning co-angler would take home $150.000. That was what I was gunning for, but reality told me I had no chance.
They drew the Day 1 partners at the historic Brown County Arena, next door to Lambeau Field. I drew a Wisconsin angler I had never heard of and arranged to meet him the next morning before the crack of dawn.
As I rested on my lumpy motel mattress, I couldn’t comprehend why I had joined such an event. I really didn’t belong. I was totally outclassed by the rest of the field.
We would be following Wisconsin’s fishing rules in the tournament. That meant that each boat would have a limit of five fish total, with one of the anglers catching three fish and the other catching two fish. That’s right, the amateur was responsible for catching two of the total fish. On my gosh, I could feel the pressure grasping at my throat.
I met my partner and apologized for his misfortune in drawing a lowly fishing writer for a partner. He laughed and told me not to worry. He asked if I had caught walleyes in the past. He asked if I was confident in being able to net my partner’s fish. I answered in the affirmative to both questions, and he chuckled and said I would be fine.
The biggest fish around Green Bay were in the larger part of Lake Michigan. Unfortunately, the weather was not conducive to the big water, with winds stirring up huge waves that were unsafe to travel on in walleye boats. The alternative was to stay in the sheltered bay and to fish in the shallow waters leading into the adjoining Fox River. There were 200 boats in the tournament, and 190 wisely chose to fish in the safe river.
My pro angler and myself chose to vertically jig, straight up and down in a mere 4 feet of water. The river was jammed with boats, all doing the same thing.
Wham, I got a bite and quickly pulled in a small walleye that was just barely long enough to qualify as a legal keeper-sized fish. My partner asked what I wanted to do with it and I responded that we should keep it.
I figured it was so crowded with anglers that it would be a real challenge to catch a limit of keepers and that we’d be lucky to catch the five we needed. The fish went into the live well. Phew, I felt relieved. I needed one more.
I felt another bite and brought in a larger fish, but it was no monster. It was good enough and went in the live well, too. I could relax, now that I had fulfilled my duties.
Of course, my rod went off again and I reeled in my third and final fish of the day. I put my rod aside and stayed ready to handle the net for my pro partner. I waited and waited for a couple hours with no work to do. We were getting anxious.
Near the time limit, my pro partner caught the two he needed to give us the maximum we could catch for the day. I figured we were in pretty good shape with a limit. We were in 24th place. I imagined I had a shot at the next day’s top 20 and a shot at the $150,000.
It was then that I was introduced to my Day 2 professional. He had been disqualified for a rules violation on Day 1. I should have been afraid when I heard that. I should have been more afraid when I heard him ask me: “Can you handle rough water? I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
To be continued.
• Daily Herald Outdoors columnist Steve Sarley can be reached at sarfishing@yahoo.com.