Thursday, September 7, 2000
Not really sure what to do today. We’ve done our share of fishing. Done a fair amount of driving around doing nothin’. Even spent some quality time watching football, watching, movies, tying lures and admiring the view from the fire pit.
So what do we do…? Fish? Ah, why not?
But first I better check my e-mail. Get my stock updates… and maybe work on the journal for a few minutes while Snoot gets his blood moving. I’m sitting at the dining room table and there it is, the unmistakable morning voice of the Eagle. I can hear the cries but I can’t see the birds. Then suddenly, I see the dark swoop of a large creature fly across the window right in front of the dining room table. And what’s more, it lands in the top of a tree right outside the window. This picture doesn’t really show much, but the point is, I was sitting at this computer, typing this journal and the most American of all symbols, a healthy, wild, Bald Eagle lands in my field of view. I love this place.
The wind is pretty bad today. 15 to 20 knots out of the southeast. That means the minute we get around the north corner of Oak we’re in for a little lake shower. It’s quite a haul up into Deep Water Bay and with a 30 to 50 degree crosswind, we’re going to have a boat full of water. We’re in that boat so…. Thank God for rain suits.
Of course we can’t venture in the Exotic Land of Moose and Mounties until we check in at Cyclone Island. I’ve been bitching about this all week so I thought I’d at least give you a look at this critical International Border Control Facility. Really it amounts to a dock, a shack, and a phone. And not a real phone, a radio phone. I know what you’re thinking.. “Aren’t there people there? Law enforcement? Immigration officials?
No there are not. There is a radio phone in a little yellow box on the side of this shack. You call them and “report into Canada”. That’s it. They don’t know where you’re calling from because that’s the first thing they ask you…. “Where are you calling from?”
So after about a week of this I got the bright idea that maybe I could call from FHL? When they ask, “Where are you calling from?” I’ll say “Cyclone.” How the hell are they going to know? If they know where I am calling from, why do they ask? Is it a trap? Maybe they really do know exactly where you are calling from but they just want to test you? Probably…. But honest me, I had to actually ask them if it was acceptable to call from the US. And of course the answer was no. That would be too easy. The distance between FHL and Cyclone Island is less than a mile. I can just about see the phone box from the end of my dock. I mean this is a perfect example of why they can’t even learn English. They’re Canadian.
So it’s off the dock at Cyclone and straight east toward Deep Water Bay. We round the corner and head out across the rough water and “boat full of water” was an understatement. The waves are about three feet high and they’re just the perfectly wrong distance between them. I literally have to motor up one side, only to come crashing down the other side, and straight into the next wave. We’re only able to do about 10 knots and we’re not really getting anywhere. But hey, we’re fishing. And we’re not in a hurry so we keep crashing our way across the lake.
The winds are not much better as we get into the bay but we work out way far enough north until we’re finally able to sneak along the west shoreline and get up to Gator Bay.
Before we go for the big fish, we decide to hit the Walleye for a while. So we motor around into a calm cove and jig for a while.
We gave that about an hour or so and finally give in to the undeniable temptation to cast a big ugly Musky Plug out in the windiest part of the lake. There’s a point where we’ve had earlier success but the wind is blowing right into the “V” of the point. So there’s no easy way to fish there but we must.
And sure enough, it doesn’t take long before Snoot the Musky Hunter strikes again !!!
Naturally, when you hit a fish like this, you can’t leave for quite some time. You’re compelled by some genetic malfunction to fish until you can’t lift the rod one more time. So this we did. Finally, deciding that the sky to the west was just threatening enough to make us think twice about that long trip back to the cabin, we decided that we’ve had SOME success today and maybe we could fish someplace closer to home. So down the Tug Channel and across Deep Water Bay.
There is a strange phenomenon that has developed over the past week. We’ve discovered that, for some unknown reason, we are physically unable to drive past the Sunset Lodge without stopping…. So we stop. This time of year, the resorts are pretty slow. At times they seem positively empty. They’re actually glad to see us. When the bar is quiet, you feel a little obvious just sitting there so you wander around a little. This place is full of pictures and lots of them are of small planes and big fish.
One other noteworthy addition since my last visit is a complete overhaul of the furniture. Some rich guy paid a small fortune to get a bunch of wicker sofas and chairs for his deck only to find out they don’t weather well. So Bill (the owner of Sunset Lodge) bought the whole set. This is only a fraction of the whole set.
A couple of cold-boys, some cheese sticks, and a good cigar. That’s become the standard lunch for this trip. Then over to Frank’s place to see if he’s interested in showing us where the “other” fish are…. The Walleye?
I’m always surprised to find Frank home. He somehow seems to fish everyday and yet he’s always at the Bay Store (which sadly is not a store at all anymore). Frank comes down to meet us at the dock and we chat for a while. Turns out he is right in the middle of a computer virus scare and could use a little IT support. As luck would have it, I brought my traveling pack of CD’s and I have just the ticket….. so I offer to clean up his system in exchange for some fishing advice.
Turns out he has a pretty impressive system and knows almost as much about computers as he does about fishing. And fortunately I have some anti virus software that is just what the doctor ordered. So instead of offering me some fishing advice, he offers to take us out tomorrow. I new eight years of college would pay off someday. Finally I got to use my technical abilities for something useful. We’re there….
So with the next day pretty much arranged, we head back to the cabin to enjoy the sunset and have a nice dinner.
Also, I’m still working on the depth finder hoping to get the bugs out and while I was test driving the boat I remembered that I promised you a picture of that cabin that they dragged up the hill. Imagine they pulled the barge up to that rock and slid that entire cabin, furniture, dishes and all, right up the hill. Then turned it 45 degrees and that’s it. There it sits. Pretty slick if you ask me.
Looking forward to tomorrow. Good night Friends.