I'm reposting this from my Facebook ... It was quite the experience, so I thought I'd share it here as well.  This was just this last Tuesday evening (30 Jun 09) on the river where I grew up.  Enjoy...and feel free to laugh - we certainly did!
~ Dawn


After fishing up at "the river" a few times recently, Pete & I finally decided to bring the boat along to be able to get to where we might have a bit more luck. ("The river" is Seagraves for a certain place on the St. Croix - some of you may know where it is, others may not. We fish a number of places on the St. Croix, but only one place is referred to as "the river". I won't expound further.) So today turned out to be one of the colder days this summer, with low hanging clouds & a predicted high not to exceed 62...it didn't. In fact we doubt that it actually made it up that high.

We stopped & bought fat juicy leeches, my bait of choice, and we motored our way up to another spot close to a certain park on the St. Croix where we could secure some chubs - Pete's bait of choice. We were only successful in catching about a half dozen or so, but it was good enough. We had crawlers besides, not to mention some hunks of venny gristle that have been marinating in their own juices for a couple days (that's my bait, not Pete's). By the time we get to the river, it's about 5:30 in the evening. We load the boat with our rods & tackle, chairs, cooler, etc., and make our way to a tiny spit of land where we'll park the boat & fish. This "island" wasn't always here in the river - it's just that the water levels have been continually dropping through the years & this is more or less a gathering of sediment that has sprouted weeds and vegetation which now are about breast high. The little spit of land measures no more than 12 feet long by about 4 or 5 feet wide, with the current coming around both sides of it ending in a nice quiet pool downstream. We've had good luck there in the past on various species of fish. After setting up on our little bank, Pete mentioned we'd forgotten the flashlight back at the truck. I pulled out my nifty little LED blaster - we decided that was good enough. It wasn't like we were going to be out there past dark, and we're very familiar with the river itself - not alot of obstacles to get around as we make our way back. We are, after all, only a hundred yards or so from the landing (which becomes maybe 250 yards of paddling or rowing - depending on which craft we have - because of current and rocks).

At first, there wasn't much happening and I feared that being as cold as it was, it probably wasn't going to be the greatest day for fishing. I first tried my usual tried & true method of a leech under a bobber, out in the right hand current. It had produced well in the past, but water levels were higher then. Pete had put a chub on & was bottom fishing straight out, waiting for that big cat. He also put a crawler under a bobber & fished the left hand current, had one bite - & that was it. The wind was out of the north and carried a bit of chill and every now and then a bit of mist would start. We had our rain jackets, as well as rain ponchos if the bottom decided to drop out.

Soon we kind of switched places. I went to the left hand current & decided to try my leech & bobber, but to no avail. I started casting a bronze rapala to every nook & cranny of the current & its eddies that I could reach. Pete went to the right hand side & put a chub under a bobber & cast out on the other side of the current. Soon he had a hit, and reeled in a slightly small smallmouth (by our standards - we regularly catch 20"+ smalleys), we decided to let it go. I decided to put on a floating jig head & try the leech about a foot off the bottom. He put on another minnow, cast out - BAM! Same size smalley. This one, too, was released.

So Pete is just smiling away, having fun catching the smalleys. I still hadn't had a bite on my leech out there in front, dancing around in the current just off the bottom...but I was confident. Pete mentioned it was his last minnow as he cast out to his honey hole again, hoping for a bigger one. Sure enough, bobber goes down, he sets the hook and starts reeling in what to him feels like the same size smalley ....and WHAM!!!! Water explodes & I see a streak of green disappear into the leftover froth as I hear Pete saying, "Did you see that?!" WHAM!! It happens again. There's a VERY LARGE musky after the smalley that he's reeling in. I'm clamoring my way over there, telling Pete keep the bass in the water, let me get the net!! The musky hit it three times, but by the time I made it over there (have to hop rocks, slide in some mud...you know - nothing simple) he had the bass in the boat, it's side sliced wide open in a gaping surgical manner. I said, "Put a big ass treble on there, and cast that bass back out there!"

After switching to his heavier rod, putting on a new leader, finding the big ass treble hook (the tension was unbelievable & it seemed to take forever!) I dug out a big ass bobber for him, and he was ready to cast back out there. I got out of his way & made my way back to my spot where I'd positioned my camp chair gingerly among the rocks & mud and took my seat. He again mentioned he was out of chubs & I looked downstream to see his bobber was gone! I said, "He's got it!" And Pete did something that I silently questioned, and that he regretted for the rest of the evening....he reeled up the slack & tried to set the hook. The musky hadn't had it long enough, and Pete reeled in empty handed - the musky, however, got a nice meal. I told Pete to maybe give him a half hour or so, he might hit again... but it was doubtful - for this evening at least. He started casting artificials around, and repositioned his rod with the worm & bobber.

Since he was out of bait, and since I'd caught a rock bass that had gotten off I decided to cast my rapala around some more. I've caught them many times on raps. I positioned my other rod under the left side of my chair, within the cross member of the chair. I stayed seated as I cast with the other rod. I was kind of regretting not picking up my forked stick from the bank where I'd fished previously, since the vegetation on our little hunk of island didn't produce more than joe-pye weed & a couple newborn willows amongst the tall grass. But we'd placed our rods in the chairs like this before and it had worked. I was reeling in my rapala when suddenly there was something biting on my leech, and wanting to take off with it. I dropped the rod with the rap, and wrestled the other rod from it's position in the chair. When I set the hook, I heard a sickening crack & simultaneously noticed the top half of my rod way out in front of me. It was a two-piece rod, and it had broken about 3" above where the pieces go together! I looked at Pete & said, "My rod just broke!!" He said, "REEL!!" (I was!) So I reeled in a small catfish - my preferred frying size, and made my way over to the boat with two pieces of rod in one hand & a cat in the other. We got the cat on a stringer, and I was still in shock that my rod had broken. It wasn't like it was a massive fish, nor had I really reefed on it. So I took out the leftover piece, and stuck what was left of the top piece back in the base piece. I made a couple tentative casts, and asked Pete if he thought it would hold up. It seemed to cast fine. So I went back to my chair, rebaited & cast back out. Almost immediately, I had a bite but reacted too soon. (Yes, I had repositioned the rod back in the chair again...) I decided to sit there & hold the rod, really wishing for that forked stick. I had noticed what looked like a stick in the water under the boat, and asked Pete to check it out & see if it would work. What he pulled out was more like a branch, but he took out his knife & as any good man would do, fashioned a forked stick for me. Well, it wasn't so much forked, it was more like a few small branches on a big branch - but it worked!

A slight mist had begun again, and as the daylight was beginning to dwindle I dug out my rain jacket. Not so much to keep me dry as to cut the chill of the wind a bit. I was wearing a T-shirt with a hoodie over, I really enjoy the kangaroo pockets on a hoodie. It's where I was keeping my Gerber multi-tool, my little LED flashlight, my cigarettes & lighter, a bobber and some miscellaneous tackle. I'd had a couple non-commital bites, and finally reeled in & cast out again, hoping to get it into just the right spot.

I was sitting there perched toward the front of my chair at the ready for that bite I was sure was going to come. More than a couple times, the chair would slip just a bit & convince me I was going to go over backwards. At this particular spot on this "island" there are little rivulets coming through, and my chair was straddling one of them. By sitting toward the front I was giving myself a feeling of security - even if it was false.

All of a sudden my rod shot straight out in the water!!! No bite, no tug...JUST GONE! In that split second I launched myself forward hoping to catch the grip. There's no way to completely describe what happens in that nano-second...Pole gone, see handle, dive for handle, water deeper than thought, face submerged, can't see handle, rod gone, slip on rocks getting out of water, a little colder on chest than anticipated, damn sweat pants are heavy when they're wet, what the hell just happened, did you see that?? It took less than a second for my fishing rod (and it's multi-forked branch I might add) to shoot out into the water & out of sight. Pete said I was a foot behind it when I was diving out of my chair & off my rock.

He said, "Get in the boat, we'll track it down." This is when we noticed the daylight had gotten a little dimmer. The water all appeared a thick black color with no depth, the milky white riffles on the surface from the wind hampering us even further. He suggested we go back to the truck & get the flashlight. So he started the little trolling motor, which is really no match for the current in the St. Croix, not to mention the ever increasing long grass that now chokes out the preferred channels. He cut the motor, and we each grabbed an oar & paddled canoe-fashion (since that's how we were sitting) back to the little landing & got the flashlight. We dropped off some unneeded gear at the truck, knowing that whatever the outcome, this would be the end of today's adventure.

Damn, I'm wet...

We made our way back out to the vicinity of the lost rod and began our search. All we had with us was Pete's rod with a river-runt lure on it, a net and a very small ice fishing gaff. The water out in front of our fishing spot runs between 4 & 5 feet deep. The gaff would be of no use. I had little hope of really locating anything in that light, even armed with the MagLite. We thought we might have to wait until tomorrow, and then pray for sunshine. We cast about with the light to no avail, fighting the current the entire time. Suddenly I saw the reel down in about four and a half feet of water. The bottom out in that part becomes much less rocky, and the grassy weeds begin. The rod was about 50 yards from where I'd been sitting, and the reel had become lodged between two rocks which just happened to be that close together. Now the task of maneuvering the boat, keeping the light on the reel & trying to fish it back up with the river-runt on the end of Pete's rod. The first time, we had the boat positioned just right - but to our dismay, once a couple passes was made with the river-runt, the river bottom clouded up, and we lost visual on the rod. We motored around, letting the silt settle and again began casting about with the light. After about four failed attempts, a few swear words here & there, the anchor being dropped in the wrong place, not being able to hook the line....I FINALLY was able to locate the rod, Pete was able to hold the boat & I was able to hook into the last eye on the rod and hoist it up. Working now with a flashlight and Pete's rod in one hand and the broken rod in the other, I had to unhook the lure from the end of my rod. I gave the light to Pete, who was wincing at the possibility of his lure flying towards him upon its release from the eye on my rod (because of the tension on his rod, my position, etc. etc.) which also caused him to inadvertently shine the Jedi-type light into my eyes on a couple occasions. I unhooked his lure from my rod and gingerly handed it back to him. Now to reel up & find out what had happened to my jighead & leech...There was still tension on the line, and soon I felt movement. The fish was still on!!

I could see in the weeds behind us where the fish was moving, creating a swirl now & then. I set the hook and he came out of the weeds into the deeper water next to the boat. I handed Pete the net, and he was able to haul in my catfish. I was expecting something much bigger, but it was still a nice cat - weighing about 7-8 pounds. We just laid the net in the boat, and didn't bother to unhook him until we'd made our way back to the little island to pick up the rest of our stuff (my other rod, my chair that was still turned over after my frenzied launch, my pop can - now on its side & emptied, also during said launch, as well as our 5 gal. bucket). I shined the light over toward the net so Pete could unhook the fish & put him on the stringer, and lo & behold the hook lay next to the fish.

By the time we made our way back to the landing, I was realizing how truly wet I was and how warm the air temperature wasn't. I'd put my rain jacket on, only to dive into the water. My sweat pants felt like they weighed 10 pounds. My hoodie was clinging to the T-shirt which was clinging to my skin. Ironically my pony tail was still dry. On our way home, Pete was a dear and stopped at the casino to buy a new pack of smokes for me. As he parked he looked at me and said, "I suppose you want me to go in?" I just kind of stared back. "Can you remember a book of matches? My lighter's kinda wet."

I've got the feeling he wants to go musky hunting tomorrow ;o)

It had truly been a more adventuresome evening than we had planned. Best of all, we've been able to laugh repeatedly about each and every little blunder and mishap. I mean...really.....you can't make this stuff up!