People who eat, sleep, and breath fishing are often at the mercy of the unpredictable phenomenon, known as the weather. Among these makers and breakers of fishing trips is our good friend, wind. Wind decided to rear its head the day that Max and I were gonna gear up and fish the brackish marshes of New Jersey for winter-time white perch. However, surprise surprise, I woke up in the morning to a gale warning. Hitting the salt would have produced a great deal of adversity so we made a plan to fish big, small, and local. We would fish a local spillway/creek for crappies and perch. The lake feeding into the spillway is chock full of muskies, some of which end up in the creek, comprising the big part of the plan. Max's dad had seen muskies in the creek before, so we know they were in there.
We all started off at the spillway, throwing various small panfish jigs. Max was the first to break the ice, landing one of the largest yellow perch I have ever seen on a soft-plastic. However, the fishing was very slow, so we decided to move down the creek and try for muskies.
The woods in the wintertime are a strange place. Gone are the cicadas and treefrogs singing their songs to each other from the treetops day and night. Instead it is replaced by silence. Still, this was part of the first warming trend of February, and around were green shoots beginning to push their way out of the soil. Soon, the stripers will be running again and the snakeheads will be coming out of the mud. Still, it was nice to get out there, scratching that internal itch to catch fish.
We soon arrived at our next location, a place Max's dad took us to where he had seen a muskie in shallow water while crappie fishing. I began throwing large jerkbaits and swimbaits, watching the lure in anticipation of a bright green trailing flash that never appeared. So instead, we went back to drifting crawlers and small jigs for panfish. Soon, we had found a hole where they were stacked up; Max and I began catching bluegills and yellow perch almost every cast. It was nice putting on a bobber and worm, getting back into fishing roots, especially since the river has been unfish-ably frozen for the past few weeks.
With enough for a fish fry but still no crappies, we went back to the spillway with the specific intention of catching paper-mouths. Within a few minutes of putting on a jig and float, Max hooked up, flipping the first crappie of the day onto the bank. Where you find one crappie, you typically find many. Fishing ice jigs with small pieces of nightcrawler, Max's friend Jason and I were soon able to also catch a few.
I hadn't done any real panfishing for a long while before this day. Even though I consider myself a multi-species angler, I generally target larger gamefish species, especially on my home bodies of water I know well. That will still be what I will love doing the most. However, this day carried an important reminder that fishing can be both hard-core, solo big fish missions, but also relaxing and shooting the shit with your buddies.
Cheers, fishy people.
