I got 99 problems and fishin’ solves all of em. ∼ Earl Dibbles Jr
A breakfast gathering of the fishin crew
I belong to an informal little fishing club. We enjoy getting out on the water, winter summer and fall and giving it our best shot. We don’t always catch fish, but we enjoy each other’s company. We also chat every day, talking about the weather, our activities, and of course….fishing. 😊
One recent discussion touches on something fishermen everywhere love to talk about…. “the one that got away”.
Each of us has a nickname we go by, we’ll start with Chaw, then Snagger, then Zmaniac and end with Ktowne (me).
Chaw
About 15 years ago me and a buddy found a bunch of very big Muskies feeding in shallow water. It was in a creek that led to both the Wisconsin River and the Eagle River Chain. The water we were fishing was filled with stumps and weeds. The Muskies would only follow during the day but if you went back at night you could get them to bite.
One cloudy day I had a musky follow that made my legs shake. Once I saw it during the day I left it alone, marked the spot with shore markers and planned to come back that night.
At 9 pm I arrived in pitch black stump water. I had my jackpot topwater tied in as the Muskies were feeding in large frogs. I took a cast. The moonlight showed my lure zig zag and a huge shape appeared, ate the lure and jumped. It looked like a full sized truck. It landed in the water with the lure in its mouth and a giant splash. I fought it for only a few seconds before it hit me tangled in a stump. Pulling on the now snagged lure I couldn’t tell if the fish was still there. After a minute it was clear I only had my lure snagged and the fish was gone.
I sat in my boat heartbroken. Couldn’t give it even one more cast and went in. Never saw the fish again despite going to the exact spot for years afterwards. It was my whale.
As an old musky angler I still replay that night over and over. How big was it? I’m guessing 55 inches. That big. It dwarfed anything I’ve caught or seen since.
Those fish live in an area that is very hard to get to and nobody in their right mind would think there could be big fish. While losing the fish was tough it did give me a night to remember.
Snagger
I know the feeling of a big fish and you don’t catch it. My wife’s uncle had a cabin on the cedar River in Iowa. We were invited to come up for the weekend and stay. Being in flooring everybody always has a project they want help with. I didn’t mind helping because I love that area , I wanted to go fishing on the river. Traveling to his cabin we would go over the river on a bridge , I could see this little creek emptying into the river. After finishing a couple projects for them. Told my wife I was going to step out ,go to the river. I got to the spot ,as I usually do I sit back and watch the river. I noticed some minnows jumping in the area by a rock. I had my number three mepps on , white bucktail gold spoon. I waited out in the river to get close to this rock too make a cast. I made my cast in the water the water boiled. There was the largest northern I have ever seen in my life. I had no net I had no stringer . As I’m fighting him , wearing him down . In my mind I had him mounted on my wall already. Still trying to figure out what I was going to do to get him on shore. My lure was barely in his mouth. But now I had him nice and tired and he just laid there. When I bent over to pick up the fish the lure came out of his mouth. I jumped on him ,had a bear hug on him. With his slimy body and no equipment he showed me he wasn’t having any of this , he slipped out of my hands.
Going back to the cabin all slimed up and wet and just a story to tell. That was one of my favorite fishing days even though I didn’t catch him.
Zmaniac
I had a similar experience wading on the Fox River below the Algonquin Dam. Fishing for SM with a smaller Mepps, I hooked a big Northern and fought it for a long time before it came off. The next time I was out there I changed to a larger Mepps when I got close to the same spot. It wasn’t three casts later when I got hammered and it was game on. Only using 6# test, I knew I had to tire out the fish before I could even get it close. After a few minutes of back and forth the fish swam right at me and actually brushed my leg as it swam by. At that point I didn’t have enough tension on the line and it threw the Mepps right back at me. All I remember is that it was bigger than my leg when it swam past. I went back and did the same thing probably a dozen times after that and never got another chance.
Ktowne
Many years ago, I was fishing with my best friend Jim on Bughs Lake near Wautoma, Wisconsin. Jim’s family had a small cabin on nearby Lake Irogami, and we often went up there to fish and hunt.
Our morning on Bughs had been uneventful, a few panfish and one or two small northerns or bass. The lake was pretty calm, so I decided to try a surface lure. I put on a black Hula Popper with a bright red face. We were in a small rowboat, and were drifting slowly around the lake. I cast lazily towards shore four or five times, when all of a sudden; WHAM, a huge largemouth bass inhaled the Hula Popper. I watched the bass make two or three leaps out of the water before I realized I had a helluva fish on.
Hearing the commotion, Jim turned around and said “holy chit”, that’s a big “freakin bass”. I don’t remember what tackle I had, but I tried to play the bass so my line wouldn’t break. I got him close to the boat a few times, and he lunged down into the depths, forcing me to loosen my drag and let out line.
Jim was coaching all the time, “play him, don’t horse him”…. But I didn’t hear much of what he said.
Finally I got the big fellow close to the boat again, and felt I had a chance to get him in when he made another lunge for the bottom, snapping my line like a piece of dental floss.
I just sat in the boat stunned. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, after which I found another surface lure and cast for at least twenty minutes straight.
No deal, the big guy wasn’t coming back. And though we had a good time as always up there, I had a bad case of the a.. all weekend, because of that damn fish.
But Jim and I talked about that fish for many years, and although Jim has now passed, I may one day return to Bughs Lake to see if the big bass has any living relatives who like Hula Poppers.
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