panfish – Share the Outdoors

Thomas Edison, Socrates, Sherlock Holmes and me – fishing for bluegills.
Magic baits are usually not magical, but how you use them can be.
Test, change, revise…and catch more fish.
Practice catch and release when it makes sense.

My delicate and aged split cane fly rod has an old-fashioned varnish top coat. I have to take special care putting it away each time, but, mercy, the action is so sweet and unlike graphite, perfect for panfish expeditions like this.

By Jeffrey L. Frischkorn

It’s tough to behave in a manner equating yourself as an expert when you know you’re really not. Including angling. A lucky hack, yes, but a Socrates offering sage rod-and-reel advice? Not so much. Me included and likely, especially.

Maybe Thomas Edison put it best: “Success is 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration.”

And when it comes to fish, I sweat a lot. Simply put, there are no short cuts to catching fish. No magic bait, no new pro-angler-endorsed fishing outfit, no spiced-up boat platform with a cornucopia of gear heralded as the latest and thus, the greatest.

So, what about those big bluegills I catch? The answer boils down to rolling up my sleeves along with trusting my instincts. And some luck in rounding it all out. Mr. Edison, thank you.

Right now, I am closing in on catching my 50th member of the sunfish clan where each fish measures a minimum of 9-inches. Several approaching 11-inches, too. None have come from fishing from a boat, either. Not one. If you want, I can repeat that fact. It’s important to remember.

I began my fishing quest – and will end it – from the bank. I started with a light, long, ultra-light rod that is no longer made, and a spinning reel plucked from a display hook at a generic tackle store.

Likewise, I prefer those foam plastic torpedo-shaped bobbers, or “floats.” Such bobbers, I have found, offer less resistance to the forces of a bluegill pulling it under than are those round foam bobbers. Excuse me, “floats.”

I did have to twist my arm for the late season bluegill bite by downsizing both the fishing line and bobbers. While my toolbox a few months back relied on 1/16-ounce jigs and 8-pound test main line, I have scaled back to 6-pounds test main line and 1/32-ounce jigs with minimalist strands of multi-colored hair and a brightly painted head. Not feathers, but hair. Personal choice.

As the season has progressed, I also moved from casting near the bank to lobbing the bait further out. I surmised the fish were suspending and not orientating themselves to the contour of the bottom. Just the opposite of what I was anticipating.

Similarly, I self-taught that an 18-inch strand of 4-pound leader material attached to a barrel swivel – which is also tied to the main line – beats the 8-pound test/6-pound test package I used all summer.

That’s the thing about us anglers: we seem to try different things when the fish are not biting. Thus, when the new lure, the new technique, the new whatever doesn’t work, we mistakenly blame that lack of success on the just-applied thingamabob or must-perform writer-approved procedure.

Case in point. Of course, live bait works better when the water cools. It doesn’t take a Sherlock to figure that one out. Yet even though I was doing just fine with tipping a jig with a trio of maggots, I got to wondering if this methodology could be improved upon. In short, I revisited my thinking in midstream for no other reason than because I wanted to test a thought.

Consequently, I hit on adding those small artificial products that come in those always leaking bottles of artificial “live bait” that Berkley makes. So, I began using Berkley’s pink-colored artificial grubs, two of them along with three real live maggots.

Before I forget, remember when I said no boats are required? That’s true. For my bluegill fishing I have a pair of walk-around ponds that are included in the membership of two sportsmen’s clubs I belong to. Neither pond is more than a few acres in size. And yet I fish the daylights out of them by strolling along their respective bank, driven by the blessed thrill of experimentation.

I’m not alone. I have a young friend who regularly catches trophy bass from a heavily fished pond in the center of our county’s largest city. And then in a place that everyone else says bass do not go. And with top-water lure models made popular back in Grandpa’s Day, as well.

But that kid and I do not give up. And, bluntly, neither should you. Before abandoning a particular body of water, given it a minimum of three tries, four if the waters are close to home.

And in the Before I Forget, Part II, neither that kid nor I keep any of the fish. We each figure that trophy bass as such are too valuable to be caught only once. But I digress.

In the end, scuttle the notion you can buy your way to successful angling. You really can’t. Maybe most importantly, don’t fret about failure. Such lapses reward you more than a successful fishing trip can ever do.

Rest assured, too, there will come a time when you have that “eureka” moment, discovering your own key has unlatched the fishing treasure box with no help from anyone else. Me included.

Crappie Fishing with Straw – Part 2 of 4

In the fall, when weeds begin to die, an exodus takes place. Refugees with and without vertebrae begin flocking from the decaying flora to more stable environments.

First the insects leave their dying source of food and cover, followed by the minnows and panfish that feed on them. The most logical refuge for these epiphytic insects becomes wood in the form of brush piles, lay downs, stake beds, logs, and stickups.

In spring, these movements reverse. Eventually. But when spring comes early, with unseasonably warm temperatures arriving weeks ahead of schedule, anglers often find nothing but dead weeds on the shallow flats in their favorite panfish bays. Though often frequented by crappies right after ice-out, these flats can be devoid of fish life altogether until new weed growth reaches a certain height—tall enough to provide cover, and dense enough to draw insects.

Famous crappie-walleye pro Tommy Skarlis, assaulting a wooden sanctuary for crappies in the backwaters of the Mississippi River in spring.

Most years, the first place to find shallow crappies in early spring will be around wood cover. Bluegills, too, will be crowded into the branches of fallen trees at this point—especially when big bass, catfish, or pike are on the prowl in the warming waters of those first bays to light up with fish life.

Consummate crappie pro Kyle Schoenherr (All Seasons Guide Service in Illinois), demonstrating how crappies will find and utilize the most dense wood cover available in spring.

A single log laying along bottom, or angling to the surface with one end exposed deadhead style, can hold dozens of crappies. Amazing how a float rig resting three feet from that log will sit quietly forever while a float pulled right up against it will go down over and over again. Crappies can crowd into the shadows of a single log like sardines stacked in a can.

Float rigs define the best choice for approaching crappies and wood in spring. Until waters warm above the 50°F range, crappies may seldom chase a swimming or moving jig with much enthusiasm. And a vertical drop beneath a pole float or a slip float offers the lowest opportunity for snags.

Down South in lakes like Reelfoot in Tennessee, reaching in toward wood cover with long 12- to 16-foot poles with 6- to 8-pound monofilament lines, vertically dapping around wood cover with slim “pole floats” from the Thill Shy Bite series is popular and effective. The rig is weighted with a couple split shot and a 1/32- to 1/16-ounce jig baited with a minnow or worm.

Up North we’re more likely to pitch with 7- to 8-foot ultralight rods, 4-pound lines, Northland Lite Bite Balsa Slip Floats, and lighter jigs in the 1/80- to 1/32-ounce range. Because crappies tend to be targeting small invertebrates this time of year, anglers should be ready to try wax worms and maggots when minnows fail to produce. Slip floats slide down to a bead and a swivel separating the main line from a leader when reeled in, creating a smaller package that is easier to pitch with accuracy. When the float lands, the rig weighted with split shot and a jig slides straight down until the float reaches the string or neoprene stopper on the main line, providing less opportunity for the leader to drape over branches and hang up.

Always think about the angle of the sun and where the shadows will be. Though early spring means cold water, and crappies may be “sunning” in the open water nearby, it pays to fish the shaded side first most days.

Next week: Part 3 of 4 –The Crappie Compass.

Tag: panfish

Spring Crappies: Wood to Weeds Dynamics