Pajama Cruise 2011
Back in January, I posted a series of photos on the hunting thread of a pheasant hunt that two other board members, Silverkype and the Drake, and I took. While the three of us are sometimes notoriously known for being on opposite sides of the “Deer Wars,†we were able to set that aside for a day and managed to bag a few pheasants. It was necessary, however, to point out that one member, who is not an upland bird hunter and therefore lacked the proper attire, was insistent on wearing some sort of bizarre camo that resembled a pair of pajamas. Please see the photo below.
Following the hunt, the deer discussions continued, with no hope of ever coming to a consensus. In an effort to dampen down the discussion to a dull roar, the moderator, Ironhed, a.k.a. Ken Nulph (that’s Captain Nulph to you), offered to host another attempt at a peace keeping mission aboard his Lake Erie Charter boat, Buckets 3. The only catch was, of course there’s a catch, pajamas were required. One does not look a free charter from a top boat during the peak of the walleye season in the mouth, so we really didn’t ask any questions concerning Hed’s fascination with pajamas.
Emails, PM’s, and phone calls were exchanged and it was arranged that the Pajama Cruise 2011 would take place on August 13th with Hed providing the boat, mate, and expertise and Kype, the Drake, and I tagging along. A few days before departure, we received bad news (bad for us, real good for him), the Drake would not be able to attend. Try as he might, he could not get out of an obligation. He says that he had to close on a house that he bought, but we, okay, I, suspect that he either 1) realized that the chances of him, despite his enormous skill and experience, would have almost a zero probability of catching his favorite fish, the great PA sucker (although he has been known to catch them in other states as well) or 2) the fishing charter coincided with the first day of the semi-annual sale at the Pottery Barn. Sadly, we left him behind.
I had not seen the sun rise over Lake Erie since my old bass tournament fishing days back in the late 80’s and early 90’s, so as Buckets 3, pictured below, made its way toward the channel, the glowing ball in the distance was welcomed as an old friend.
It wasn’t long after Hed’s fantastic mate (he worked hard, was efficient, and, best of all, made fun of Hed quite often), Joe, had the lines set that the first fish of the day came over the side. Please see the photo below.
Just as that cow Mahi-Mahi went into the fish box, the 4:30 AM alarm sounded and I awoke from a troubled sleep to realize that the trip was still ahead of us.
So, let’s try that again. I had not seen the sun rise over Lake Erie since my old bass tournament fishing days back in the late 80’s and early 90’s, so as Buckets 3, pictured below, made its way toward the channel, the glowing ball in the distance was welcomed as an old friend.
It wasn’t long after Hed’s fantastic mate (he worked hard, was efficient, and, best of all, made fun of Hed quite often), Joe, had the lines set that the first fish of the day smashed the lure and Kype manned the rod. This was his first adventure ever out on the Big Pond and it started out just right.
This trip was also a first for me. While I had spent about 6- 8 days bass fishing the lake for at least 10 years, I had never caught a Lake Erie walleye. Others fishing the tournaments had. Heck, others on my boat did. But some way, somehow, they had avoided me. That would not be the case for very long as another rod fired before Kype even had his fish to the boat.
My first Erie walleye proved to be “my†smallest and they only seemed to get bigger from there. The next one was larger and could probably be termed either a big old goodun or a good old biggun. I like to think of it as eight coconut batter fish sandwiches.
As often happens on trolling trips, one angler seems to get all the, shall we say, more diminutive fish, while others, well, their fish tend to run slightly larger (it seems that mine are always the former and my wife’s the latter when we go on a trolling charter). The rod bend in the photo below shows the pull of….. Well, you decide. For some reason, the walleye that put up this amount of effort due to their size somehow became known as “Jon Fish.†Don’t ask me why. They just did.
Pictured below is a "big" Jon Fish.
Compared to an average Jon Fish, shown here coming to the net.
The action was so fast and furious during the first trolling pass of the morning, that Hed had to abandon his pajamas because all the running about the boat made them far too restricting and hot. At least that is his story and he is sticking to it. Notice the nice Christmas themed jammies lying on the cooler as Hed tries to figure out what the heck is going on aboard his vessel. Rumor has it that he borrowed them from his wife, but we were there to catch walleye, not to judge.
As the action continued, I think at one point there were six or more rods fired at once, somehow, I kept choosing the correct one. See the difference in the rod bend between a Jon Fish shown previously and a Shawn Fish in the photo below. We have no idea what Hed is attempting to do in this photo, but, again, we are not ones to judge.
We had fished from about 7 AM until a little after 9 AM and the action on that first pass had been nonstop. In the photo below, Hed holds an “average†walleye that came aboard.
At this point we only needed four more to punch everyone’s limit ticket. We really should have been done, but someone, who shall remain nameless, had lost enough fish to finish us out. Just how many he lost is a matter of dispute. He says two. Hed says three. I say four. Utilizing the math skills of another board member who frequents the hunting boards, that would equal nine lost fish. In any case, we could of and should have been done in time for brunch. But that was not to be.
As it seems to always happen, whether hunting or fishing, those last few to complete a limit are the toughest and take as long or longer to bring to hand as the great majority before them. This was the case here as well and it took until 11:15 AM to drag the last walleye over the gunwale. It nicely posed for a few photos – the first showing length and the size of its head, the second depicting girth (the fish's, not mine), and the third proving that if one of us blocked out our face, the camera was in no danger of being broken.
With gear stored and walleyes residing in the cooler, we headed for the Bay. Pay no attention to the lures on the rods – Hed changed them all before I took the photo in order to protect the integrity of something he kept referring to as his “secret program.†Being an ubersnob fly fisherman and therefore not having a clue about trolling, I am presuming he was talking about the lures, the weights, the lengths behind the boat, the type of line, the depths, the trolling speed, etc. and not something that has twelve steps and starts out with “Hi, my name is Hed, and I am a walleye addict.â€
At the dock, the cooler was once again opened to reveal that some of the fish actually grew while stored in there. I just think that some the Jon Fish were eaten by some of the Shawn Fish.
A representative group was hung on the hooks before filleting and to make the whole thing even heavier than it was to begin with, Hed had to lean on the middle of the pole.
Following completion of the fish cleaning, we headed to Rum Runners for a little lunch before Kype and I had to say our goodbyes and head south for the 200 mile trip home. It had been a series of firsts for us and a great time aboard Buckets 3. We laughed, we jabbed, and we caught a bunch of fish. We didn’t talk deer hunting.
As I nestled myself into bed that evening, I could not help but replay some of the Pajama Cruise 2011 events as sleep slowly crept across my brain. See the photo below and don’t ask how I take photos of dreams – it’s part of my secret program.
post edited by DarDys - 2011/08/15 13:23:26