Ice Fishing Great Cove Lake Hopatcong

Maureen and Jeff's first time ice fishing, we had a number of options. State Park lots make the lake very accessible for pickerel fishing on the six foot deep flats. Possibly, we could access River Styx, though parking is dicey there. In any event, we had to visit Laurie's shop for bait first, and I had Great Cove in mind. After Oliver and I were all but skunked in mid-January--Oliver caught a tip-up perch--we got word of a lot of pickerel caught back in the Cove. My son and I once ice fished the mouth of Great Cove in depths as great as 35 feet, hoping for a musky, but since I never had fished back in the relative shallows, I decided to go this way rather than around the bend in front of the Jefferson House, where word had it some nice pickerel were caught recently. I've never ice fished in front of the House per se, but have a few times in that area. I like to try different places.

I found I was short a couple of tip-ups, but after we got, I guess, 13 in place, we settled down to coffee, sandwiches, crab dip and conversation. I've never experienced such fog while ice fishing, and some sleet, rain and snow spattered on a very light breeze. Very mild at 34 degrees or so, I thought the temperature was just right for initiates, although hard core ice fishing challenges have had my son and I active at 0. Tough morning for a nine year old, but the photos I have don't lie. He enjoyed it.

I watched the tip-ups now and then. All was quiet and still. I knew, like on many outings, things can seem unyielding quite as if nothing will happen, until something does. Hanging out was enough, and if we caught nothing, the day would have been fulfilling.

And yet, had that flag never risen--and a second flag after sunset as we packed up, perhaps a missed hit, Jeff wasn't certain if a breeze kicked it--Maureen and Jeff never would have got that taste of childlike innocence in so humble an event as a fish on, certainty no one can deny, no one who has experienced.

First Lake Trout

Wind raced through in 30-40 mph gusts from the north making 24 degrees or so feel like who knows. Felt good to me, since I like the zest of my native response, but after submerging my right hand in the bucket of shiners, I stuffed it in my right pocket, drying it off while I cupped the shiner hooked through the dorsal in my left so it wouldn't freeze. Snow under boots gave way just enough to grip as I walked half a football length or so to where I could cast, the pocket frozen where the ranger boat is kept during warm weather. I made the round twice, each time jabbing a rod butt into the stiff snow to keep each upright, rather than hauling my bucket to the reservoir's edge.

Then I sat in my car, turned on the ignition, warmed, and wrote in a 4 x 6 notebook I stash between the seats. I checked on the rods a couple of times before Mike showed up, my having discovered I had left my SD card at home, camera useless, a crowd of three species of waterfowl present I desired to photograph--bufflehead ducks, gadwall ducks and common mergansers. They fed at the edge of ice, and I needed additions to my collection of photography, but what the hell, Fifteen years from now I may own a $7000.00 600mm lens. And then I'll really need to get out and use it.

Mike told me he gave up four or five days ago. Hasn't caught a trout since I saw him last week. I told him about the laker caught Friday. He said he's caught two on Power Bait over the years, news to me.

"I saw your rod bounce, is that the wind?"

"That's not wind," I said. I ran like the tumbling breeze, felt like a kid.

...I was into a good fish, Mike cheering me on. It took awhile, hoping it would be a laker, hoping it would weigh five pounds.

Good thing he wore rubber boots. I didn't want to soak my hikers. The snow right at the edge was thick, ice covered, making any maneuver a little difficult. Not a five-pounder, but good size.

Lots of praise for my fish and salutations to a good dinner tonight, I packed the trout and Mike drove off.

For the past 10 years, more than any other fish besides Spanish mackerel until 2010 when I finally caught Spanish after trying since I was 17, I've wanted to catch a laker, a desire shared with my son. We rented a boat on Wawayanda and really tried. Matt hooked something big 60 feet deep and lost it. We tried on Green Lake in Maine, marking lakers 63 feet down--lots of them--Matt jigging a Kastmaster as I backpaddled the canoe against wind to keep in place. None would hit.

I can't wait to go and try again.

Round Valley Reservoir Slow but Fishable

With lakers in mind, I bought shiners at Behr's, no word there of recent Round Valley catches, not surprising that not many have been fishing. My usual spot iced over, I looked further back into Ranger Cove and, as expected, saw open water I could fish. The situation much the same last year, the reservoir never really froze over until the very end of January. It's a cold winter. Is it as cold as last year's? In any case, I don't think quite as much snow has fallen.

I stuck the butts of two rods into snow coagulated by the recent rain mix and trudged back up to my car with two upright poles behind me. When I looked back from behind the driver's seat, I was surprised to see another angler setting up near my rods. Some 10 minutes later I went back down the bankside to check my lines, and we struck up conversation. He had caught a five-pound laker on Power Bait Friday, fishing the bait not far from shore, but at least 10 to 14 feet deep.

That's the only trout I've heard of since last I was out, and I don't expect to see any trollers out there for awhile. But I'll be back.

Furunculosis Outbreak in Retrospective

Here's an article published this past spring for my Recorder Newspapers column. The furunculosis outbreak of late 2013 will not affect trout stocked this year, although only rainbow trout will be stocked.

 

Furunculosis changes trout season plans

By Bruce Litton

          Many of us became informed last fall of the fish disease, furunculosis, likely transmitted from a heron or herons to trout at Pequest Hatchery. Caused by a wild bacterium, Aeromonus salmonicida, it’s assumed the birds picked it up somewhere else, since the hatchery is groundwater fed. The infection altered some of the fall stocking program, and we wondered what lay ahead.

          The changes for this spring are far reaching, but there will be trout for Opening Day, Saturday, April 5^th, and weekly stockings through May 2^nd. However, to protect native, wild, and holdover trout populations, no trout will be stocked in Trophy Trout Lakes (Merrill Creek Reservoir, Round Valley Reservoir), Holdover Trout Lakes, (Clinton Reservoir, Lake Aeroflex, Lake Wawayanda, Shepherd Lake, White Lake), and some of the Trout Production Streams and waters directly connected to them too numerous to list. Information is available online under NJ Fish & Wildlife postings, among other sites.

          Most of our Highlands streams will receive a lion’s share of pre-Opening Day stocking. Since rainbow trout are resistant to this disease, although they may carry it, don’t expect many brook and brown trout. Furnuculosis is not a threat to human health, although it’s understandable if the thought of the fish’s infection is not appetizing. Only fish unexposed to the disease will be stocked in any Trout Production stream associated with wild, and perhaps also native, trout. Exposed trout, testing negative for the disease, will be stocked in Trout Maintenance streams. Put and take waters will get fish treated by medicated feed, but don’t expect to catch deformed trout, although some may be carriers of the disease. CO2 is the quick and painless method of eradicating the many unfit trout. This is the first outbreak of furnuculosis in Pequest Hatchery’s history, although it has happened in Pennsylvania hatcheries.

          “They (Pequest) raise way over 600,000 trout every year, but they’re still stocking 570,000,” Brian Cowden, Trout Unlimited Musconetcong Coordinator, said. “It’s a conservative plan, and they will not stock fish that test positive.” While the disease is not likely to spread in the wild, the possibilities are unknown. The Pequest Hatchery’s care is important.

          Trout-rearing raceways will be disinfected, and in the future, the state plans to rear furnuculosis-resistant brook and brown trout. For the time being, remaining trout are being vaccinated. Over the course of the next few years, rainbows will mostly replace the other two familiar species until the resistant trout are established.

          It’s disheartening to know that our reliable trout stocks have taken such an onslaught from perhaps a few ospreys and herons. However, three years ago when I began this column, I noted that hatchery reared trout have been shown to have smaller brains than wild fish, and this raises a point about hatchery susceptibility. Wild trout thrive and survive by so many more environmental variables than a straight, concrete, crowded raceway. It may be supposed that positive growth, and ultimately health, depends upon multifaceted environmental opportunities for animals of any species—including humans—to make choices and respond, have impulses and address situations, if any animal other than human addresses anything. I consider that the way a trout overtakes a streamer fly displays impetus from within the fish, not a purely responsive swipe, but an address is a rational consideration.

          I’ve been unable to find anything online about an entire wild, or native, trout stream waylaid by furnuculosis, although Susquehanna River smallmouth bass have suffered an epidemic due to low water and heat stress. Again, Aeromonus salmonicida is a wild bacterium. “Aero” implies that the disease is commonly transmitted by birds. Wild trout, salmon, even minnows, chub, pike, carp, bass, etc. get it. As a boy, I saw it on minnows in Little Shabakunk Creek, Mercer County, never infecting all the fish. Nature is resistant; simplified man-made spaces vulnerable. It reminds me of Michael Crichton’s science fiction debut The Andromeda Strain.  

          In any event, if it weren’t for hatcheries, the Highlands would have no wild browns and rainbows, although these populations have been established for many generations now. Nowadays, the trend is to remove dams from rivers like the Raritan and Musconetcong, and if two of the three dams on the Paulinskill River are removed, the population of wild browns will increase, since dammed flows warm in summer, and without dams, rivers run more in accord with springs that cool and clean them.

          So this Opening Day, appreciate your surroundings a little more than usual, knowing that wildness, freedom, and health go together. Let some of your own neuronal dendrites spread out a little wider than they would with four walls around you.

http://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2015/02/super-ultra-light-salmon-egg-spinning.html takes you to a comprehensive article on salmon egg fishing.

Latest from Round Valley Reservoir

Round Valley has been slow for us shorebound bottom fishermen. Mike hasn't caught any since his two nice-size browns hit shiners going on two weeks ago, and he fishes a lot. He has no word since then of any other being caught, besides four lakers between two guys trolling in all that rain Sunday, top fish about five-and-a-half pounds.

I fished shiners, and I was happy to be out with the usual fare of catching nothing. I guess that says a lot for a place that most find too desolate and forbidding to visit this time of year, waiting until May when colors of casual wear flourish in abundance like flowers. It should say a lot, because contrary to appearances the park is full of life year 'round, you just have to experience beyond the mental constructions that would tell you "nothing" is there.

And I hope to get out and fish Round Valley again soon. I caught the five-pound bass I wanted so much last May, and I've caught two rainbows over five-and-a-half, one of them barely under seven, but I've never caught a laker anywhere, though I've tried at three places total. Sticking to shiners, who knows. Mike caught a 21-inch laker just weeks ago. I have heard of lakers caught on Power Bait, Merrill Creek Reservoir, but among shore fishermen here at the Valley, lakers all seem to take shiners.

A few out for a stroll in the 30-degree weather. 



7 Inches of Ice Lake Hopatcong

Oliver asked where we would go on Hopatcong, and I suggested State Park, River Styx, and a spot with a drop-off from about 10 feet of water. Two years ago, Landolfi took my son and I here, and we waited for about two and a half hours, just talking and on occasion lifting tip-ups from holes to stir any lagging shiners back to life. The sun touched the horizon and we were thinking of leaving, although my interest piqued, since I'm very familiar with things happening at the magic hour. A flag went up, all three of us threw cares aside and ran for it. The fish hit right on the drop-off about 12 feet down. Matt heaved on the line and could barely move it.

"Here!" Joe grabbed the line. Landolfi's patience is short lived, but he gets things done. The hook pulled.

"That was a big fish," Joe said.

It's the sort of spot not limited to pickerel and bass as State Park at least tends to be, besides perch and panfish. Could have been a walleye, channel cat, or even a musky.

Today I mostly looked forward to getting out, conversation, and having some moments of communion with the environment: all fulfilled. And of course I shot photos, 200 of them. But after our four hours or so were finished and Oliver had caught one yellow perch to show for our efforts, when two guys came walking to Dow's dock behind us and reported catching six pickerel, I felt the old familiar urge to actually catch fish come alive as waiting on our 10 tip-ups never did provoke.

 Felt mild the first couple of hours, though never got above freezing.

Lake Hopatcong never freezes evenly. Great, thick sheets of ice collided here like little continents, heaving up ice to the left of this photo, and driving ice under here where I photographed the fissure with a very thin sheet over it.

Black ice is best. But this time a bust.

Round Valley Reservoir Trout Report

I've fished trout four or fives since I reported last, lost a nice one, and have witnessed three lakers 15-20 inches, two browns 19 and 22 inches, and a 22 inch rainbow. Mike got the browns on shiners, and the lakers also took shiners. A man and his young son fished together, the boy catching the rainbow on what I forget, but the fish was a conversation piece. Whatever I had on hit a marshmallow and mealworm. I've noticed a couple of guys using 9-foot rods to get extra-distant casts. My son and I each own 11-foot steelhead noodle rods, and I'm thinking about it. Can't use more than 6-pound test; noodle rods are light power, but that's the test I use now anyhow.

The word has been that the browns are gone, but it's rainbows I've heard little about. Oliver fly cast his 10 wt. recently and watched a golden palomino follow his nymph. Not a taker, but a close encounter.

Lake Hopatcong has as many as seven inches of ice in the coves, but this ice may thicken considerably more before the reservoir freezes. In any event, the reservoir won't freeze unless we have more sustained extreme cold than we have enjoyed as yet.

You've got to admit it. Cold can feel good on the face. It stings the nerves and can make the face burn for an hour after you come in, but it's a sure sign that you're responsive and alive.