Our trip last Friday started off like many others. I prepped the boat and several rods, transferred bait from the garage live-well into a cooler for transport, hitched up the boat, and blasted off.  Quinn and I had made arrangements to meet at the boat ramp when he got off work, giving us an early start on the night of fishing. It was around 85 degrees for a high that day, with stable conditions forecasted for the rest of the night. Nothing special, but a normal mid-August night.  After meeting Quinn and loading up his gear, we were on our way.

After a boat ride of several miles we arrived at our chosen fishing spot to unload gear and deploy baits. This spot had proven itself in the past, so we were hopeful. After a quick strategic discussion, I was in the kayak paddling lively baits to their precise locations. The sun set as I dropped the last bait, enveloping the lake valley in the inky gray of dusk. It was time.

It wasn’t long before we experienced our first action of the night.  Quinn and I were discussing placement of a specific bait that I’d taken out farther than the others when I noticed his adjacent line steadily swimming sideways. The fish took no line against the clicker, but we knew there was no way a bait could be dragging a three ounce bank sinker with such steady ease. Quinn reeled down to the fish and set hard, but the massive loop of slack in the line from the fish swimming across to the right prevented a solid hook set. The fish must have realized that something wasn’t right, and ejected the hook from its mouth. We were disappointed, but happy to have had a run so early. This was a good sign. We retrieved another bait from the large livewell in my boat and re-deployed it to the same location.

Only a short time had passed after re-baiting Quinn’s rod when one of my reels gave up several steady clicks.  I ran to the rod and waited.  After a few seconds, another brief set of steady clicks sounded. I disengaged the clicker and felt for tension on the spool with my thumb.  I could feel a fish moving, but it wasn’t taking steady line, and it wasn’t my goldfish. I began to reel down slowly and discovered that again, there was substantial slack in my line.  After a few turns of the handle I felt weight, and set the hook hard.  This time I connected, and after a short battle a juvenile flathead planed to the net. Quinn quickly scooped the 15 pound fish, which we released shortly after unhooking it.  A high five was had, and a new bait deployed.  We figured that while I was out in the kayak, I may as well do a stealthy inventory of bait on some of our other rods. As I made my way down toward Quinn’s last rod, I heard its clicker start to steadily pay out line from the boat.  Quinn didn’t think much of it, under the impression that I had the line in hand and was checking his bait. As quietly as I could, I let him know from the kayak that I didn’t have his line.  He picked up the still clicking rod, reeled down, and set.  Fish number 2 was hooked solidly and the fight was on.  Quinn told me that the fish didn’t feel that large, but I made my way to the bank to help regardless.  I reached the back of the boat at the same time a flathead of about 20 pounds broke the surface. After an interesting wrestling match, I jawed the fish from the kayak and handed it to Quinn on the back of the boat.  He was unhooked and quickly sent on his way.  More high fives, as now we’d caught two flatheads before 11:00 PM. Since I was still in the kayak, I ran a new bait out for Quinn once more.  Trap set, again.

About an hour later, the same rod I had caught the young fish on earlier in the night payed out several steady clicks and stopped once more.  I picked up the rod and disengaged the clicker right away.  As soon as I did this, line began to steadily roll off the spool under my thumb. After engaging the reel and coming tight to the fish, I set hard.  Whiff.  The rod never bent and I almost fell backwards. With nothing but slack in my line, I reeled until I felt weight and set again. Whiff number two! Discouraged that I’d missed our fourth run of the night I quickly cranked in line grumbling under my breath.  About 25 feet from the bank the line stopped dead in its tracks and the rod corked in half.  Realizing I had caught up to the assailant, I set the hook hard. Game on.  Line ripped from the reel as the heavy fish shook its head and ran out to deeper water.  We knew right away that this was a better sized fish.  After an extended fight of a minute or two on heavy tackle, Quinn made the scoop on a very plump 40+ pound flathead.  More high fives as the weigh sling and scale came out.  The fish was unhooked promptly, and weighed in at 41.8 pounds. A healthy female with a full belly, the fish was temporarily placed on a bridle for better photographs in the morning.  We discussed our continued early success, and ran another bait.

Mosquitos were becoming an issue as Quinn and I settled into our chairs. Luckily, he had packed a thermocell unit with him and fired it up. Problem solved. These things are worth their weight in gold, and I highly recommend them for mid-summer fishing. We sat back in our reclining chairs and killed a bag of kettle style jalapeño chips. They always taste a bit fishy on successful nights like this.  Discussion drifted through several subjects before being abruptly interrupted by yet another clicking reel.  This time it was one of Quinn’s, and a reel that somehow had never been picked up by a fish after years of use at that. After determining that the fish was moving steadily away, Quinn set hard.  The rod buckled and the drag slipped on the hook set, implying that this was another grown fish. The heavy adversary pulled hard, taking line several times and planing both left and right quite a ways.  I positioned myself with the landing net, and Quinn dragged the fish to me perfectly. With a quick scoop she was in.  I mentioned something about the fish being around 30 pounds, but grunted trying to lift the full net from the water. I had underestimated this one a bit, another very plump female weighing in at 45.3 pounds.  High five number four of the night, and the fish was placed on a temporary bridle near the bank for morning photos.  Thrilled by our success, we quickly re-baited and sent another goldfish to the depths.  A stellar night already.

By this point we were getting quite sleepy. We checked to make sure all of our reels were in freespool with the clickers on, and set up the reclining chairs to get some sleep.  Finally dozing off at around 1:00 AM, I was occasionally awakened by the sound of a lively bait pulling a few clicks of line from a nearby reel.  I got up twice to check the reel, and could feel the bait’s tail vibrating wildly against the line. Eventually I ignored his struggle and slipped off to sleep.  At around 4:00 AM, that same reel began to steadily pay out line. I jumped up and ran to the rod, slipping off the clicker.   The fish was moving off steadily, but just as I was about to set it stopped abruptly.  I waited, then picked up the rod tip. It felt like the weight was snagged on something, and I no longer felt fish or bait.  I reeled in my line to find that my active bait had swum several circles around a whole brush pile about four feet in diameter.  The line was impossibly wound around the 20 pound pile of branches, with about 8 feet of tag line to the hook on the far side toward the lake.  I then realized that a flathead had engulfed the bait post tangle, and had been steadily swimming off with the whole pile of brush in tow.  The brush must have snagged on the bottom, alerting the fish and causing it to spit the hook. We wondered how much fish it would take to casually carry a pile of branches along with it, and dropped out another bait.

Morning seemed to come quickly after that, as Quinn and I woke up around sunrise to begin packing up our gear.  We left the rods for last as is usually our custom, and retrieved the well rested pair of 40+ flatheads for a quick photoshoot.  After angrily biting hands and thrashing us with their powerful tails, the pair of fish were released and steadily swam off.  There is so much satisfaction for us in watching a massive predator like a flathead swim back to its murky environment in full health. A warrior of a fish, living up to and over the 20 year mark in many habitats, deserves this kind of respect.

We packed up gear and chairs, and began to reel in our lines.  Quinn alerted me that something was up with his last rod, and I saw the line swimming hard to the right.  The reel never clicked, but it was obvious that a flathead had eaten the bait as Quinn caught up to the fish and his rod bent. After a short struggle a fifth flathead of around 15 pounds made the net. The little guy was quickly unhooked, and sent back out to resume terrorizing the rest of the fish community. Thrilled by our late success and the nights happenings overall, we packed the rods into the boat and shoved off.

On the way back in, we ran into several friends who were also flathead fishing down the lake. Chad and Richard had caught several flathead, with fish of 20, 30, and 43 pounds weighed and released.  With 8 fish caught between us, we made note that nights like this one don’t come around very often. Truth be told, catching a single flathead during a full night of fishing is sometimes a rarity.  Excited about the night’s fishing, we all headed back to the ramp.

We’ll be taking a week off of fishing this weekend to prepare for a two night trip the following week, but hope to have a noteworthy update for that trip as well. Our release video of the two 40’s can be found here: 41.8 an 45.3 Release Video

Ironscale, out.