“What else might we catch other than smallmouth bass?” That was the question my son Michael asked as we drove past the Philadelphia Art Museum on our way to float the Schuylkill River.
“Muskie are in the Schuylkill River, but we won’t catch one because there aren’t all that many, and getting strikes isn’t so easy,” I replied. “As a matter fact, odds are crazy low,” I told me while peering down at the water from within gridlock traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway.
“Besides, even if we do get a take, the fish would bite right through the line so let’s concentrate on having fun with the smallies,” I said to Michael. With morning commitments in the rearview and the rain parked exclusively over our local saltwater scene in South Jersey, we hatched our impromptu, afternoon road trip west in search of different scenery, and a sunny sweetwater adventure.
Upon arrival, we unloaded and prepped the kayaks quickly and my friend Steve helped with the shuttle operation by parking my truck downriver and then bringing me back to the starting point. Finally out on the water, as dads do, I began giving Michael tips on fishing jerk baits. I didn’t get through my second sentence when he hollered over his shoulder, “I’m hooked up.”
So much for him needing advice I thought to myself, observing the heavy bend in Michael’s Berkley Cherrywood rod. Maybe he could provide me suggestions because by the look of it, he was tied into one heck of a smallmouth. A spit second later Michael exclaimed, “Muskie!” Paddling over a little closer to my son, sure enough, the fish showed itself as it streaked the across the surface. This initial emotions of shock and exhilaration struck us both. Michael hooked “the fish of 10,000 casts” on his third cast.
But there was no time for celebrating the hook up. We had to come up with a strategy for writing Michael’s own underdog story. During the early stages of the fight, the muskie zigged and zagged throughout the water column. It occasionally went to the bottom where it sulked, using the current to its advantage. All the while, we discussed the best way to land the fish on the lightweight tackle that included 6-pound monofilament tied straight to the lure. Clearly the muskie was lip-hooked, not taking the 2-3/4-inch Berkley Hit Stick into its throat, or assuredly the line would have already parted due to the fish’s jagged teeth. We didn’t bring a net because our intention was to lip or cradle the smallmouth we caught; in retrospect, it’s safe to say that was whiff on my part.
As we worked out the plan to land the muskie, Michael finessed it perfectly, allowing it to run when it wanted while reeling when it was appropriate. It circled the kayak more than a few times. After a true on-water strategy session, we made the decision to tire the muskie as much as possible while finding a clearing along the shoreline on which to beach the fish. But we both immediately noted, the contours of the Skook were lined with fallen timber that the fish could use to break off.
“I can go back to where we put the kayaks in,” Michael said confidently, adding “I’ll row backwards; there’s a clearing there.”
“What? Really? You can do that?” I asked. “Just don’t put too much pressure on the light line,” I added with skepticism of the balancing act about to take place. I watched Michael perch the paddle on one knee while holding the rod in the other hand as he paddled up-current. A strong jump or sideways run could have ended it, but Michael really had a feel for what he was doing and had already taken much of the fish’s spirit through outstanding angling execution.
Once we got to shallow water near the launching spot, Michael entered the water and handed me his kayak so I could rest both yaks on the river’s edge. Michael patiently guided the fish toward the bank. Every so often the muskie took off and made a small burst, but it was running out of steam. Eventually Michael got the muskie to the target spot where I managed to assist in landing the fish. After some quick pictures, Michael spent a few minutes reviving the musky for a clean release.
Catching unexpected or oversized fish on light tackle makes for some of the best fishing experiences; even better that we were able to enjoy and savor the moment as father and son. We stopped in South Philly for some pizza and recounted the battle from every angle during the entire ride home. We did end up with about 10 smallmouth in the following two hours of fishing, but it was Michael’s third cast muskie that made yet another lifetime fishing memory.
