Green Bay for the Good Times

Hello friends, This week's column is just pure crazy and fun, and as usual, I am short on space. I love to fish Green Bay and do it in both my canoe and my 18.6 War Eagle. I generally can only fish it once a year because my schedule isfull as a tick that's been stuck in your backside for a week. This year's plan was crazy, rain and wind changed my plan twice, and the new plan would have me leaving my house at 3:45 a.m. and fishing all day, along with my best buds, Ruby and Red. At night I was going to anchor in deep water, fish walleye, cook and sleep in the War Eagle.

The following day I would fish until 9, trailer my boat, drive Mark Walters

from Peshtigo to my Necedah area home, write this column as it would be my deadline, and then help host a beach party at 4 in the afternoon for NOAC, the Necedah Outdoor Adventure Club, an organization that I am the president of and that helps to get people outside.

Wednesday, Aug. 7 - High 73, low 54 So I am at North Bay Shore Recreation Area, near Peshtigo, which is a super cool campground and boat launch. When I arrived at NBSRA, there was one fisherman who has already been out and even though it only 6:45, he was calling it a day. His boat was bigger than mine, but he told me the seas were too high. We had a good conversation and I was told that he had been kicking hiney trolling with crawler harnesses in 13 to 16 feet of water for a few weeks, but he got beat up too much this morning.

I spoke with my fearless crew and both Red and Ruby said, 'We got this.' I began our journey to 13 feet of water, about a mile, and then started setting lines. The wave action was minimal, and I was in an excellent mood. I ran three crawler harnesses with a line straight back and a right and left planer board. Four hours later, I had not had a hit and if I ran in any water shallower than 13 feet, it was immediate weeds on the harness.

I stayed confident and believed in my advice. Important info and remember this: two of my harnesses had floats on them; one did not. I am trolling and loving life and holy moly, it looks like I have a fish on, and I did. On Green Bay, you have no clue until you see it, and

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was I ever so happy when I caught a 20-inch walleye. Each run that I was doing was maybe 3 miles and on the next pass, the same crawler harness - pink with a float which helps to keep it higher in the water column, especially on turns - had another hit and this time it was probably the biggest perch of my life. It was longer than a baseball bat and heavier than my anchor. On that same run I caught an 18.5-inch walleye. So I am cruising and catching fish at 1.1 mph and well into the day, I saw a sight that I will not soon forget, and that was at least a 150-pound sturgeon clear the water by a good 4 feet in a spectacular jump. My one meal before I anchored for the night would be a can of fried Spam; yum, yum! So about 5 p.m. the mood is excellent and my other crawler harness with a green float gets whacked and the fight is on. I caught a 21-inch walleye and 'yippie yi yo, cowboy,' was I ever happy. The harness with no float would not get hit all day. Next thing, I get whacked by a sheepshead on the pink floater and let it go. The fight of the day came on the green floater, and it lasted a while. I could not tell: was it a big sheep, catfish, walleye, musky? My catch was a catfish in the 8- to 10-pound range, which I also let go.

About two hours before dark, I saw some rather unfriendly looking clouds to the west heading in my direction. I was having fun and when I looked earlier on my phone there was only a 3% chance of weather. I must admit though that I have had five near death experiences on Green Bay, twice in my canoe and three times in the War Eagle. A bit later I looked on my phone and saw that there was going to be weather, and it would happen throughout the night.

I just could not see being anchored 2 miles from shore and calling that an intelligent way to end the lives of my ship and crew. Just before dark I hit the launch, everyone I saw talked about how poor the fishing was. I did my work and started the trek home. Just before midnight, I was 10 miles from home and my brain had like a 98% shutdown. I was so tired it seemed like trees were falling down and I simply could not think straight. When I pulled in my driveway, I walked into the house, did not turn a light on, found my bed and fell asleep with the thought of, 'There's no place like home.'

Sunset