Night fishing leaves no time to clean some nice fish

Too many times in the past several years I wouldn’t have even bothered to head to the lake given the circumstances of time constraints. But this year is different. The boat was already hooked on and I didn’t have plans for the evening. But I did for the next morning.

In our area, after fishing to just-beforedark, the drive back home means cleaning fish late at night or in the morning. I prefer in the morning. But the next morning I had plans, and I would need sleep before those events, and getting to bed after midnight and getting up at 0600 just wouldn’t cut it. So I didn’t really have time to clean fish.

But I went anyway. I drove farther then I normally would for a simple evening trip. I didn’t really know what I was going to fish for. My shoulder was sore enough that tossing lures for gamefi sh didn’t sound like that much fun and probably would be far less then fun after 15 minutes or so. I had some bait along and poles for any type of fishing that came up.

I launched on a small lake with great water and lots of bottom deviation — in depth, contour, substrate and vegetation. I didn’t even start the main motor since it’s a no wake lake after 6 p.m. I just used the trolling motor. No wind was hitting the lake and within an hour the water was like glass.

From fishing lakes like this as a kid, I learned that finding bluegill in the middle of July meant finding that magic depth of 10 feet of water with a sand bottom surrounded by vegetation. If it’s close to a shelf going up to five or six feet of water, even better. And, if that is right by the shelf, that’s the best. I found exactly that about 300 yards from the landing and almost across the lake from the landing.

On the first cast, just as the jig was hitting the bottom, a fish tapped the jig hard and I set the hook, feeling a nice weight for my ultralight rig. The fish fought hard and eventually went into that circular pattern with decreasing circumference on each pass as the fish runs out of steam and is pulled to the surface. It’s so typical of large bluegill. I boated a large female bluegill — the kind that are bigger than a man’s hand, the kind that one fish is a meal for an adult. The kind that make your mouth water just thinking about a fish fry of fresh bluegill. But I had no time to clean fish and, reluctantly, with a shaking hand, released the fish into the water. I had to take a few breaths to steady my nerves after that and even looked around to see if anyone was watching the idiot throw back a perfectly good bluegill like that. Thank goodness no one was.

The second cast did the same, with an even bigger bull bluegill with the deep coloration, the kind with horns on it. The big males are the bluegill that the population depends on to maintain its health as they guard the nest from predators during spawning season. So it didn’t hurt quite as much to let him go.

The third cast had a lighter tapping that I missed followed by another hard tap that brought another nice bull gill to the boat, just slightly smaller than the last. The fourth cast produced nothing.

The fifth got another large female and I had to steady myself before releasing her. It was clear that this night the fish were going to bite and bite well. If I just had an hour to spare to clean fish, this would be the perfect night to fish and I was glad I went.

On about the 10th fish in less than an hour of fishing, I realize that I was having a lot of fun and I didn’t have to clean fish in the morning either. About this time I thought about a quote from Henry David Thoreau: “Many men go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not the fish they are after.”

I boated a lot of nice fish that night include a few bass and one northern. I watched the sun disappear behind the treetops on a lake that was like a mirror. I felt truly at peace. Which is the best part of fishing.

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CHUCK K OLAR LOCAL OUTDOORSMAN