Out And About In A Boat

Day 190: Yesterday just wasn't a good day to go out in the kayak again. The forecast of "mostly sunny" didn't become an actuality until rather late in the day, and it never did really warm up. Today seemed to be starting out in the same manner, but once the sun got a toehold in the cloud cover, it successfully pushed the door open. I'd had a feeling that was going to be the case, so I'd put the kayak on the car and was just biding my time in anticipation of going out on the Tanager's first serious fishing expedition. Oh, I'd dabbled a bit last fall with no particular expectation of success, but today I meant business. I intended to catch at least one trout for dinner.

Like many fishermen, I harbour the belief that you'll find the best fish in spots no one else cares to explore. With that in mind, I headed to the north end of the lake where I'd crossed swords with a goose earlier in the week. Goose was patrolling and had widened his boundaries, but I got past him without incident thanks to a pair of ducks who diverted his attention long enough to let me pass. Throwing out a blue Roostertail, I got a strike immediately from a scrawny six-inch fingerling. Another twenty minutes of casting failed to draw a single bite, so I trolled a Wedding Ring as I paddled back to the boat launch at the south end, but unsuccessfully. In this desperate time, I was compelled to resort to a desperate measure. I pulled a couple of jars of PowerBait out of the trunk of the car.

At this point, let me say that I don't like to fish with bait. I am first and foremost a fly-fisherman, but over the years of fishing with my buddy, I've used lures when possible, but in the course of events, when we were together, bait seemed to be the standard. That said, PowerBait wasn't working either. I was on the verge of calling it a "good paddle day" and going home, but I decided to tie on a black Roostertail for the trip back to the launch. I hadn't gone a hundred yards when I had a hard strike.

Hatchery fish aren't much fun. They lack the spunk of native fish who have had to scrabble for their existence. This one came fairly easily to the net. On any other day, I might have let it go, but in wanting to be "one with the beautiful spirit of the trout" a la Greg Brown's song "Fishing With Bill," my mouth was set for beer-battered trout filets. The batter is maturing even as we speak.

Back On The Water

Day 187: The forecast was for 67° and light wind, so I put the 'yak rack back on the car this morning and discovered much to my delight that I'd skinnied up sufficiently to get in a pair of hand-me-down insulated waders. Summery temperature aside, the lakes are still quite cold and with no dock handy, wading out at least to knee-depth to get into the boat is pretty much mandatory. Even with the waders protecting me, my feet felt the chill, but once I was actively paddling, I was more than sufficiently warm.

Last year, I purchased the kayak after Ohop Lake had a toxic algae advisory posted. It was not a full warning which would have necessitated a closure, but people were being told not to eat fish caught in the lake and were advised not to swim or wade. There were plenty of other places I could go without placing myself at risk, so I put Ohop on the list for later. Before leaving this morning, I checked to be sure the advisory had been removed and was pleased to see that only three lakes in the county currently are thought to contain toxic algae. Ohop was not among them.

Ohop is a pretty lake, approximately 2.5 miles long and probably less than half a mile wide at its widest point. It hosts planted trout, bass and a few other species and is open to fishing year-'round (barring toxic algae advisories). It also is home to Canada Geese, as is any body of water in the Pacific Northwest, and this is nesting season.

Down in the far (north) end of the lake, I was following a Kingfisher who was skillfully staying out of reach of my lens by flying to a new perch as soon as I turned the camera on. With my eye on that elusive bird, I drifted too close to a pair of Canada Geese, the female sitting on the nest and the male guarding her about six feet away. I don't know if he mistook the movement of the paddle for a wing, but something provoked him to launch an attack. He extended his neck, put his head on the water with his beak open and began paddling toward me at high speed, obviously incensed. I tried to move out of range, but couldn't navigate fast enough to please him, so he flew up out of the water and straight toward me. I raised the paddle and fended him off, his enormous body only inches from the blade. He flew up and over me and landed about fifteen feet away on the opposite side of the kayak, whereupon he launched a second attack in the same manner. The second time, he again missed the paddle by inches, overshooting and continuing his flight back to the nest. He landed on the water and seemed to be going to go back to the female, but as soon as my back was to him, he set off on a third assault, again with his neck at full extension and his lower beak scraping water. For all the world, that goose looked like an engorged water moccasin closing on a swimmer! Once again, he flew up when he got within ten feet of me and barely cleared the paddle I was using to defend myself. But this time, he had apparently assured himself that he had successfully repelled the trespasser (as indeed he had!), and he returned to the female's side. One of my grandmothers had her arm broken by a domestic goose when it struck her with its wing. I know to stay clear of them, but in this case, I didn't see the pair until it was too late.

Thus, the Tanager's first voyage for 2014 became a bit more of an adventure than I'd bargained for, but ended with no harm done to any of the participants. After seeing the successes other people were having with the trout, I beached the boat at the parking area in the hopes that I'd left a fishing pole in the trunk of the car. Nope, I'd put it away for winter, but it's in the car now and we have good weather coming again toward the end of the week.