Big river, big fish

(Republished courtesy of the Seymour Indiana Tribune)

LEWISTON, N.Y. — Fish of all sorts were everywhere. We just had to fool them into joining us in the boat. Steelhead, king salmon, brown trout, lake trout, bass. An all-star team of fish made up the lineup of availability in one of the Great Lakes that make those lakes great.

The sun was bright, the chop was light, the temperature was mild. It all made for a combination that suggested the tropics. Yet we were trolling in 20-foot, open boats on Lake Ontario in upstate New York in spring.

For newcomers to the region, this blend may have spelled unexpected and comfortable opportunity.

The water was deep and the land distant. It was thataway to Toronto, someone said while pointing, and thisaway to Buffalo. Pointing elsewhere

The environment was no surprise to Mark Smith of Knox, Indiana, who has visited four times and understood the bounty of the fishing grounds.

“You can catch so many completely different types of fish,” Smith said.

A group, spread among three boats, consisted of eight members of the Association of Great Lakes Outdoor Writers from Indiana, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Texas (a Lakes outlier) under the auspices of Destination Niagara USA.

Based at the confluence of Lake Ontario and the Niagara River, the Niagara Crossing Hotel Spa was barely a handful of miles from Niagara Falls, perhaps the oldest-and best-known tourist attraction in the United States.

Niagara Falls, situated in a state, not a national, park, is known for its high-speed, humongous amounts of gushing water split between New York and Canada, not for fishing.

Jokes were made about a possible way to obtain fish from the Falls. One could just stand beneath them, right?

“That would be perfect, wouldn’t it?” Smith said. “Just hold out your net into the flow of the water.”

That would not be the goofiest suggestion made about ways to appreciate the Falls.

When the Erie Canal was finished in 1825, it made the Falls accessible. A famous lodge, the Cataract House hotel opened and Abraham Lincoln and Winston Churchill stayed there — not at the same time. After dropping by in 1848, Lincoln was prompted to jot down personal observations and later speak of how impressive the Falls were.

Over time, Niagara Falls became a premier wedding destination.

Commercialized early on, there is no shortage of souvenirs available for purchase. When Yellowstone became the first national park in 1872, legislators stressed conservation, stating they did not want it to become a Niagara Falls tourist trap.

“Honeymoons and suicides,” Smith said of what the Falls offered as first impressions, not fishing.

Honeymoons for romance. Suicides, intentional or not, because for many years it was a daredevil thing to ride over the Falls contained in a barrel.

The only suicides we wished to contemplate were of reckless fish latching onto lures. Much of the fishing was catch-and-release, but some participants were after keepers.

Smith omitted tight-rope walkers seeking publicity. Some managed to string ropes over rushing and roaring Falls, hoping fervently they lived to tell about it and witnesses alerted the media to what they accomplished.

As recently as June 2012, Nik Wallenda, a member of the famed Flying Wallendas circus act, crossed the Falls on a tight-rope walk from the United States to Canada. ABC-TV insisted he wear a safety harness. No word if he carried a passport, as is required for pedestrians now.

Back to the fish. Fish are not encumbered by feet as they are swept along at startling rates of speed over the Falls. The average annual Horseshoe Falls flow is 85,000 cubic feet per second. Look out below with that net.

The Lake Ontario fishing was 10 miles from Lewiston, a community of 16,000 people perched on the Niagara River. On a day when the wind was flat the water seemed a world away from the Falls.

A person can wave to Canada on the other side of the river. In fact, a driver not paying close attention, is so close to that country, he may make a wrong turn and find himself under a sign reading “Canada tolls” when he has no wish to cross an international border.

Lake Ontario fishing

What a bounty of fish variety on call. Jeff Draper of nearby Grand Island, a guide leading eager anglers onto the water for 30 years, distributed rods wearing 12-pound test.

The average fisherman may not think about king salmon populating this upstate New York neighborhood. Wrong. Kings do roam the vicinity. They grow larger all summer so by fall, “We might see some at 35 pounds,” Draper said.

The real-life version in the spring is smaller, but with the mark of the fighters they are, in comparison any angler normally casting for bass, perch, crappie will still forevermore think of them as elementary-school fish.

When I hooked a salmon, the rod bent and the fish pulled. I reeled and the fish pulled back. When at last the fish broke the surface of the water it was a showy, silver-sided guy with some muscle. The estimate of size ran to 18 pounds.

“I was worried that 12-pound test was going to break when you couldn’t gain on it,” Draper said. “That’s a huge king for this time of year.”

Smith did well, reeling up a couple of kings. Then he felt the bump of dreams, a hit promising the anonymous fish on the far end of the line was of notable poundage. He reeled. The fish fought. Smith reeled. Then, oh no, the fish broke off and swam to freedom.

“It was right there, man,” Smith said. “It hit hard.”

“He wanted it,” Draper said of the bait.

Overall, the brown trout seemed most cooperative.

I hooked a fish that at first battled hard, then eased up. The fish hit like a king and jumped, but lost steam. This was a trout with spellbindingly bright gold coloration and one so big for its kind, estimated at 10 pounds, which if so would be a trophy.

I was mesmerized by the combination of weight and sparkle. Apparently, as Americans always have been, dating to California and the Klondike, I was blinded by gold.

“That is a pretty fish,” Smith said.

As the trout was wrestled free from the net and released, I waved goodbye, as if it was Canadian.

Niagara River fishing

For exploration of the Niagara River a day later the temperature was much cooler, the sky much grayer and the air much damper. Basically, anglers got as soaked as the fish.

The scenery was pristine the first day, but nearby on the river this day we fished a stretch that took us between the nearby dual power plants on New York and Canadian sides. These are impressively large structures, especially standing out in comparison to the open lake.

We swapped fishing partners and the river guide was Joe Marra. There was another Joe, Joe Henry, in the group, so we had New York Joe and Minnesota Joe. New York Joe favored drifting minnows for bait.

The fishing was just around a bend from a Lewiston dock. Lewiston is a fishing town. The local weekly newspaper contained a story highlighting the family-owned Apple Granny Restaurant with its claim to still having Western New York’s Best Fish Fry. Readers of the Tribune/Sentinel voted them that title for the fifth time since 2018.

This same newspaper also included a story by Captain Frank Campbell, the organizer of the trip, as well as a fishing guide. Campbell is a proselytizer for Niagara area fishing. His piece announced smelt had returned to Lake Ontario via the St. Lawrence Seaway.

While serving as eats for species of fish in the area, Campbell noted that “people in the know love a good smelt fry” when the tiny fish are available.

Minnesota Joe brought in two good-sized steelhead. Jim Willes caught a good mix of fish. My highlights were hard-fighting lake trout and some brown trout.

“I’ve got a big one,” Minnesota Joe proclaimed on his third capture. Alas, this was the big one that got away. There’s always one.

New York Joe was briefly perplexed by the behavior of a fish I caught. He couldn’t read the rod and wondered just what was on the other end of the line.

“It was going crazy,” he said.

When the fish settled down, it proved to be a good-sized lake trout.

When New York Joe hooked a steelhead, Minnesota Joe wielded the net. The rest put down our rods. Minnesota Joe first noticed the end of my rod was overboard. He grabbed it and began reeling, though the line was looped around the motor.

Using care, New York Joe steered the boat to the closest calm water just beneath the Canadian-side power plant. It is not encouraged for Americans to fish close to the boundary and sure enough a curious Canadian worker was studying us and light-heartedly shouting, asking what we were doing.

Minnesota Joe went into thespian mode. As he reeled on the line, also believing there was a fish on, he bantered the worker. He affected an accent and proclaimed, “I am from Toronto. My wife let me out to fish for the day.” He thought the only thing missing from his brief acting role was circus music playing in the background.

The line came in, no fish appeared and Minnesota Joe went back to being Minnesota Joe instead of Toronto Tommy. No border patrols were summoned.

We were drenched and the temperature dipped. New York Joe said we could take one more pass on the river.

“I’m cold,” Willes said. “I’m wet. OK.” Of course.

New York Joe paused shy of our regular distant point and we put lines in. In a minute I felt a tug. Minnesota Joe asked how come we stopped elsewhere. “Because I have a fish on,” I said quietly prelude to a frenzy.

The fish tugged. I reeled. The fish followed my lead. By acclamation this lake trout was declared to weigh between 10 and 20 pounds. It was significant enough for Minnesota Joe to bestow the nickname Laker Lew.

Soon after, Jim and I drove the short distance to Niagara Falls, becoming two of the 20-to-28 million people annually who gaze upon the powerful waters.

Contemplating a suitable souvenir, we wished to go barrel shopping. None seemed readily for sale. Then, we gazing at the rushing waters from a pedestrian bridge, darned if we didn’t spy a barrel hung up on some branches and sticks.

It was a blue, 55-gallon drum, probably not the transport device of choice for Niagara Falls daredevils, but by location it offered a sense of authenticity.