This fishing trip had to be one of the most frustrating yet. We were on a lake that boasted of big walleyes that had been eager to bite; at least up until we got there. We tried different spots, various baits, and all times of the day with absolutely no luck.

In a last ditch attempt my partner decided to switch to a different colored jig. It wasn’t your ordinary run of the mill color either. I think he called it a shade of root beer.

We went back to the first spot we tried and began to cast. It was almost unbelievable.  Immediately he caught a nice walleye, and soon a second. By the time I tied on a root beer jig he had a third. The walleyes just loved that certain colored jig. In the short time we had left to fish we caught eight walleyes that ranged from three to almost ten pounds, the biggest stringer of walleyes I ever got in on.

Now I’ll be the first to agree that fish are not going to be that fussy all the time, but occasionally fish definitely prefer a lure of one color over another. Research has proven that fish have cones and rods in their eyes that enable them to discern one color from another.

Some reputable biologist doubt the validity of new electronic color selectors that are supposed to determine which color the fish want. I don’t have any personal feeling one way or the other, but since the color craze has caught on and tackle manufacturers are turning out lures in every color in the spectrum.

I think that determining which color to use is fairly simple. At least the plan I use has worked for me. First of all, I try to match my lure color to the color of the fish’s natural food found in the lake. This includes brown, gray, black, green, white, and metallic colored lures. If the fish are aggressive, I may use bright colors that will attract fish that might not see a drab colored lure. A good example is using a bright orange or red spoon for northern pike. For some reason walleyes really go for orange, fluorescent green, and yellow.

Another factor to consider is visibility. In stained or murky water bright fluorescent oranges, yellows and greens are good to use because the fish can see them better. For years, walleye fishermen have been using bright colored spinners and lures for walleyes in deep water where plain colored lures lose their identity.

Changing from one colored lure to another does not make up for lack of fishing knowledge or proper techniques, but the right color can sometimes save the day. I know I always carry the root beer jigs anyway!

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I get a kick out of people who think sunfish are kid’s fish. Sure, lot’s of kids catch sunfish, and it often doesn’t take a lot of skill to get some, but panfish are fun and have filled many stringers of people who’ve struck out on “adult fish.”

Right now is the best time of year to catch big sunfish because this is when they spawn. As spawning draws near, big adult sunfish move into the shallows to fan out nests where they lay their eggs. Nesting usually occurs in shallow, protected areas with one to six feet of water. They prefer to spawn on sandy bottoms with a little weed cover. In Minnesota, nesting often takes place in beds of bulrushes, near lily pads growing on sandy bottoms, and under fallen trees.

Sunfish nests are circular areas where the male sunfish has cleared away shells, sticks or debris. Often the shiny shells and discarded debris around the rim of the nest gives it a “halo-like” appearance. The nests will be from six inches to three feet in diameter. Sometimes several sunfish will fan out nests so close together that they are only a few inches apart.

Adult male sunfish aggressively defend their nest and eggs and chase away other sunfish and perch that eat their eggs. This unique prenatal care lasts until the eggs hatch and the young sunfish leave on their own.

During this protection period adult sunfish will boldly grab any small lure or bait that approaches their nest, which is why the fishing can be so good.

You can locate the sunfish nests by cruising the shallows and looking for them. Wearing polaroid sunglasses will really help you see into the water better. If you spook the sunfish off the nests, just make a mental note of where the nests are and return later.

The secret to catching the sunfish is to get your bait or lure right into the nest or just above it. This requires pinpoint casts, so use an ultralight rod designed to cast tiny lures.

If you like to use a cast and retrieve method, use small 1/64 to 1/16 ounce jigs. Cast the jig beyond the sunfish and retrieve the jig until it is just over the nest and let it fall it. Generally a good sized sunfish will engulf the jig just as it is settling toward the bottom.

When the fish are a little spooky, use a bobber and live bait. Set the bobber so it will suspend the bait just over the nests and use just enough split shot to carry the bait down. Tiny foam or very light pencil bobbers that offer little resistance to a nibbling sunfish are the best. Use a number 10 hook and bait it with a piece of worm, night crawler, cricket, or grasshopper, but the best bait is a tiny leech. Big sunfish just go crazy over leeches, and little sunfish seem to not like them. Just hook the leech once through the sucker end and it will wriggle and turn on the hook in a way that really excites keeper sunfish.

Catching sunfish off their nests may seem unsporting to some, or even unethical, but do not worry about the sunfish populations. Too many of our lakes are filled with schools of tiny stunted sunfish that are a result of over population. Catching sunfish off the nest is not only fun, but contributes to healthy sunfish numbers and bigger fish. So what are you waiting for? Somewhere within a short drive there are sunfish just waiting to bite.

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Sometimes, in my line of work, I have to fish for a certain kind of fish. Like yesterday, I had to catch a northern for some photographs. As I worked along a steep drop off I could see fish swirling up in the shallows, likely bass or crappies. But I couldn’t find out because I had to catch a pike. If I was lucky I would catch one quickly, take my photos, and then fish for fun. But work comes first, if you want to call it that.

The gear I was using was pike ammo all the way-a stout graphite rod, 17-pound test line, and a “tooth proof” steel leader. The drop off was steep, dropping from 8-feet to 40-feet in no time at all. To cover a depth range like that I tied on a heavy jig tipped with a piece of pork rind, the old “jig-and-pig.”

I didn’t need to catch a big pike. In fact, a five-pound fish would have sufficed. Sometimes even a northern over two-pounds doesn’t come easy, and I was afraid this was going to be one of those days.

The bluegills were definitely active. Many times a parade of the little guys would follow my jig as I reeled it toward the boat. They would peck at the rubber skirt and nibble at the pork legs, and I had fun watching them. At times there were so many of them I was curious how many there really were. So I held the jig about three feet below the surface and let them come to it. In no time there must have been ten or fifteen.

Suddenly little sunfish were scurrying everywhere, and there he was. A long, lean pike with a baleful look in his eyes shot in and had my lure in his mouth before I could blink. He didn’t run with it, he just sat there four-feet from the boat. I could see tiny little jig legs sticking out between his jaws.

In the fraction of a second all this happened I calculated he was six or seven pounds, big enough to satisfy my photo needs. I struck hard. The heavy rod and line did their job as the hook set turned the fish over on it’s side. Most pike would have been as good as boated about then, but not this one. He must have been part cat, nine lives and all.

Quickly the fish righted itself and shook it’s head a few times, almost like the hook was nothing more than an inconvenience. It was almost as if the pike was showing his defiance. Just what I needed, a northern with an attitude problem.

I knew I had better set the hook again, so I reeled down to drive the hook again. For a split second I let the line go slack. I watched as the pike flared it’s gills and blew the jig right out of it’s mouth. My jig-and-pig settled toward the bottom and little globules of fish slime floated about the pike’s head. He snapped his jaws a few times just to show he wasn’t hurt and shot for the depths.

I couldn’t help but admire that pike. If he is that pugnacious now, what will he be like when he weighs twenty-pounds. With his luck he will get that size and bigger. Good for him, but I still don’t have my photos.

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Many moons ago, I made a commitment to never go fishing at midnight again. Oh, yeah. I know all about the die hards who drop their their lines at the stroke of midnight on opening night, or day, or whatever the correct definition is. Their line of thinking is to get first crack at naive fish that haven’t seen a real lure since last fall.

Now all that sounds fine and dandy, but I have never done well fishing during the grave yard shift. I guess I’ve caught a few fish, but never enough to make up for the hopelessly tangled lines, chilly temperatures, and debilitating hazards associated with nocturnal angling.

I recall one lusty fellow who insisted I go out with him for the opener. “Those big walleyes are like werewolves. They only turn on after the sun has gone down, and no night is as good as the first night of the year. Just meet me at midnight, Howard, and I’ll show you a thing or two.” I would like to think it was an invitation, but it wasn’t. It had the ring of a challenge, a dare I couldn’t back out from. “You got it, Wally. I’ll meet you down at Headstone Landing at 11:30″  I replied.

I wanted to portray my enthusiasm (of which I had none) so I showed up early. But Wally was already there, along with another guy I didn’t know. Actually I still don’t know the man because I never saw his face, it was dark. All I know is that he answered to the name of Leo.

Quickly I jumped in the boat with my gear and away we went. Wally and Leo were brave like Columbus, I was with the crew headed for the edge of the world.

The darkness was thick and penetrating out on the water. No one made a sound, except Wally who made a grunting sound as he rowed. Across Headstone Bay we went and stopped where a rock point jutted out into the lake.

“Now we need a little light” Wally stated. From his end of the boat I heard a rustling noise and the squeak of lantern being prepared. I was just ready to say what a good idea that was when I heard a crash and a curse. “Anybody with a match on his body must leave the boat immediately. There is kerosene all over the boat.” Wally moaned.

“Forget it, let’s just fish.”  Leo muttered.

“Yeah, well you’re on my tackle box.”  Wally retorted.

“It was that or sit on your lunch up by Jeff!”

I suddenly realized it hadn’t been a soft boat cushion I was sitting on.

“You always screw things up, Leo!” Wally yelled. And away the two cohorts went. For several minutes they fumed about borrowed tackle that had not been returned, who’s mother was ugly and who’s wasn’t, and on and on. During all this I decided to toss out a jig and lay low. I was just ready to vote for an aborted trip when a big fish nailed my jig. Like a wild horse it stripped off line and doubled my rod. Wally and Leo immediately ceased arguing and started yelling encouragement.

By the thumping and head shaking I could tell this was no small fish. After the initial frenzy the fish stayed deep. Around the boat it swam with me and two enraptured men following, jumping from seat to seat.

“How big is it? Feels good, eh? Where’s the net?” Oops, sorry about your rod, Wally. That’s OK. Your new thermos just went overboard, Leo.” After slugging it out deep for ten minutes the fish surfaced. Somewhere in the dark we could hear it thrashing. Like a madman Wally found the net and somehow got the fish entangled in the mesh. Frantically he heaved it aboard.

The big fish hit the bottom of the boat and freaked out. With it’s great tail it scattered stray lures, over turned tackle boxes, hooks, and smashed sandwiches. But undaunted we leaped on the great fish and pinned it to the floor.

“Do I dare light a match to see this baby?” Leo gasped.

“OK, just be ready to head overboard if that spilled kerosene catches.”

There in the pale yellow glow lay a huge, monstrous, unforgettable, 14 pound…………carp.

That did it. Lost tempers, broken gear, and over all mayhem couldn’t deter us. But that old carp took the wind out of our sails. In silence we rowed to shore. At the landing was another boat that had just come in. One of the men waded out to grab our bow and help us in.

“If you gents did as good as we did, we’ll all celebrate.” he crowed. Quickly he waded over to the dock and lifted a stringer of huge marble-eyed walleyes. “I’ll never miss another opening night again!” he laughed.

“Me either, I thought.  Me either.”

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