In all my years of fishing, I have experienced a bit of everything.  I've travelled around the country and chased a variety of different species.  If I am on or near the water, I'm thinking about the type of fish that swim there and how I would catch them.  I love to fish.  I am addicted to kayak fishing. But kayak bass fishing tournaments make me loose my mind.  I am competitive.  The thought of fishing against other anglers, on one body of water, for certain length of time, regardless of weather conditions . . . only adds to the excitement of catching a fish.

The emotional roller coaster of tournaments is something people enjoy or loathe.  Personally, I like the pressure, the anxiety, the frustration, and the gratification of competing.  You will loose more than you win.  You will kick yourself for decisions you made.  A tournament is like a little microcosm of life . . . all with in a span of 7 hours.   

And on May 17th at our Otisco Lake event, I was a total train wreck.  

The week prior to the Otisco event, my new kayak was delivered.  Life got in the way of spending sufficient time rigging and familiarizing myself with how it handles or fishes.  In fact, I only had it on the water for an hour the night before our tournament.  It was 2am by the time I was done rigging the rod holders and graph.  Not the best decision . . . a reoccurring theme for this event.  But I had a new toy and I was determined to use it.

The turn out was great.  We had a total of 16 anglers registered for our first official Kayak Anglers of Central NY event.  A few new faces, familiar faces, and a fellow kayak-angler member from PA that made the trip.  After our captains meeting, everyone had the choice of launching at the south end of the lake (thanks to our event sponsor, Otisco Lake Campground and Marina) or driving to the north end and launching at the county park.  I choose to head north because I knew of more spots near the dam and felt more comfortable up there.  Not the best decision.

About half the anglers stayed south and half travelled north.  That wasn't the main problem but it didn't help either.  Another issue was that there was a bass boat "paper" tournament the same day and they had 10 boats in their field.  Throw in the attraction of Otisco Lake and there were probably another 10-12 boats just recreational fishing on a beautiful Sunday.  The main problem is that the bass wanted to spawn or were spawning.  That means 90% of the bass population was in 2-10ft and with in a few yards of the shore.  Otisco isn't the largest lake, between the boats and the kayaks we had the shoreline surrounded.  The key was finding fresh fish that had not been beat up or harassed.

Let the train wreck begin.  By the time I helped clean up our gear from registration, drove up north, dragged the kayak to the water, loaded all my gear, and launched . . . it was 8:15 or so.  Part of being a director, last one's on and first one's off.  

I knew the narrows and the dam area would be filled with boats and kayaks because it is a well know spawning area.  I started on a under water point that is a prime staging area for big females.  In fact I saw one the night before on my brief trip with the new yak.  I wasn't shocked to see a bass boat working the same point because I knew who it was, my brother.  He was fishing the "paper" tournament and they had been fishing since 7am.  After a had made a few casts, another bass boat came down off plane and nestled into my back pocket.  Literally, about 10 yards behind me.  They dropped the trolling motor and started fishing.  I was a little rattled by the lack of curtesy.

As this bass boat slowing cut between me and the shoreline, the vibrations of my crankbait went slack and I set the hook on a feisty 13" largemouth.  I reeled him in, hooked him up to my fish grips and placed him back in the water.  I grabbed my hawg-trough, unhooked my identifier from my lanyard, and took out my phone which had a life-proof case.  I laid the hawg-trough across my knees, put the identifier between my teeth, and went to put the phone on the seat between my legs.  But I paused.  The seat was different from my other kayak, it was shorter.  I was afraid it would fall onto the deck of the kayak and possibly get wet.  So I put the phone on my right thigh.  Bad decision.

In disbelief, I frantically check the inside of the kayak but my suspicions were confirmed . . . my phone was gone.  I sat stunned for what seemed like an eternity and a thousand thoughts ricocheted in my head.  Do I go in?  The water was a brisk 64 degrees and the water was muddy from the prior week's storms.  What if I don't find it?  You couldn't see down more than 2ft.  Is it worth being wet and cold for nothing?  What if the water clears up a little?  It was a white phone in a silver case, easy enough to spot in 6.5 feet.  What to do?  What to do?  Without the camera on the phone, I couldn't take pics of my fish.  Without the service, I couldn't upload the pics to our leaderboard website.  If I couldn't do that, no sense of fishing.  Even worse, we were supposed to use my phone as a hot spot to run the judging at the end of the day!  It was 8:35 am and it seemed like the day was over for me.

Suddenly I was aware I still had the bass in my left hand.  I released him back into the water and used my graph to put a way point on my position.  For some reason, I had thrown my video camera and my old phone into my kayak.  The thought was to document some of my fishing and the tournament.  But I never video during tournaments because I never feel like wasting the time to set it all up.  But I had my old phone.  It had a camera.  I could still take pictures and upload them at the end of the day.  It looked like my day wasn't done.  I decided to fish and come back later of the day to see if I could find my phone.  Maybe the water would clear?  Maybe I'd take a swim?

I tried to fish but my brain was mush.  I rotated between a crankbait, chatterbait, and a chigger craw but I couldn't get bit.  Doubt began to grow.  To make matters worse, my brother decided to stop by to inform me of all the fish he had caught earlier that morning.  Including a couple in the 18-19" range, exactly the size I needed.  I got to share and relive the story of my phone swimming with the fishes.  He took off and I was left with the whole point to myself.

A previous client got in touch with me this spring and wanted to book a trip but wanted to fish some new water, some where he hadn't been before.  I liked this idea.  There were a few places that I had not been but wanted to try too.  We settled on Labrador Pond and met up around 8:30.

Labrador has a nice hand launch in a little cut out and parking for a few vehicles.  I got Mike all squared away and he paddled out to the main water.  By the time I launched my kayak and started paddling, Mike was already reeling in a 14" largemouth.  We had a little laugh because a few minutes earlier we were discussing a concern that the long, cold winter and thick ice might have caused a fish kill.  This had happened in smaller ponds all over NY. Labrador Pond is only 5-6 feet at its deepest point, so the fear was that we would see dead fish along the shore and on the bottom.  But Mike's first fish proved that was not the case.

We surveyed the pond and the bank.  There was all kind of "fishy" places.  We saw lay downs, stumps, lily pads, weeds, and bog clumps.  After a quick discussion, we decided to paddle to the south end where there was a little inlet and started to fish.  Mike was using a 1/4oz Colorado blade spinnerbait and I decided to pitch a 3/8oz Blk/Bl jig around the bogs.  The water temp was in the 60's and most of the bass would be looking or on spawning beds.  In shallow soft bottom ponds, largemouths often spawn on the roots of bog clumps, lily pads, stumps, or any other wood.

Well they were right where they should have been and we caught a mess of them.  Labrador only has largemouths and we were catching mostly males but they were all very healthy looking. We fished the bogs.  We fished the stumps.  We fished the lay downs.  We fished the pads.  We even found a stretch that had a rocky bottom. 

This rocky stretch was where we caught the largest bass of the day.  A classic spawning and staging area.  The bottom gradually sloped from 1 to 3ft, about 10 yards from the bank.  Then there was a distinct drop-off into about 5ft.  Now a two foot drop-off doesn't seem like much but when the whole pond is 1-6ft, it was significant and it was rocky.  It wasn't a monster but probably 3.5#, maybe pushing 4#.  We didn't stay long on this stretch because there was a lot more to go explore.

Everywhere we tried, we got bit and it turned out to be a great day. The sun was out, the winds were kind, and the hills that surround the pond made you feel like you were in the Adirondacks.  A very cool place . . . and one that I will be back too in the summer.  With a frog tied on!  Thanks for reading.

May 2nd was a big day for me personally and hopefully a historic day for NY kayak anglers.  Kayak fishing is not new to NY, there have been anglers utilizing kayaks to catch fish for a long time.  But on May 2nd, ten guys showed up at Tully Lake for the first gathering of a new chapter of Kayak-Anglers.com.  

Kayak-Anglers is an organization out of Pennsylvania.  It all started with six guys near Pittsburgh, who went from a small club to a conglomerate of 5 chapters, spanning two states, and over 150 members in three short years. Their success comes from their enthusiasm and passion for growing the sport of kayak bass fishing. 

On Jan 8th, a phone call resulted in an opportunity to start a chapter here in CNY and Kayak Anglers of Central NY was born.  With the help of KA members and infrastructure, we got to work here in NY. Organizing local anglers, creating a schedule, promoting our events, gaining sponsorships, recruiting members, and increasing the awareness of our sport.  The experience and people have been awesome.  The interest has been overwhelming and kayak fishing in NY is ready to explode!

Tully Lake, May 2nd.  This was not an official event but rather a social get together.  A chance to reunite with friends and meet new ones.  A chance to hold a "practice" tournament and knock the rust off a long cold winter!  The weather was good, the water was clear, and everyone was excited.

After registration, we had a quick captain's meeting and discussed the format of how official events will run.  To be honest, I was nervous the morning wouldn't go smoothly but luckily it did.  We agreed to meet back at 3pm for "measure-in" and then everyone headed out on the water.  

This was only my third time on the water since the ice left the lakes, so I was chomping at the bit to catch a few fish.  The water temp was around 54 degree and the surface was like glass.  Immediately I thought the bass would be aggressive and biting.  I quickly found out that wasn't the case.

The north end of Tully Lake is narrow and has deep water that transitions into a spawning flat.  The idea was to start shallow and work out deeper until I ran into them.  One of the other anglers I was with started shallow, so I went deeper along the drop off.  I could see the bass cruising and I was graphing them out deep but nothing was biting.  In fact, whenever I threw a moving bait like a jerkbait or crankbait . . . the bass spooked and took off.  Something wasn't right, so I left. 

My past history on the lake in the spring had over powered my original plan.  I knew of an area where I have caught nice bass before, so I checked it out.  The middle part of the lake is a large flat, with deep water surrounding it.  Bass like to spawn on the hard roots of the reeds that grow in the summer.  I knew there would be bass on or around it.  The water was clear and shallow.  I tried to be as stealthy as I could but every bass I saw, saw me first and scattered.  I tried anchoring in one position and let the cruisers come to me but I soon lost confidence in this decision.  So it was time to move. Again.

The wind had picked up and there was a nice steady breeze, so I let it drift my kayak across the flat.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a piece of wood.  It was no bigger than my arm but arched off the bottom.  Without thinking, I picked up a 3/8oz black/blue jig and pitched it to the wood.  My jig never sank more than a foot when I felt it.  The best feeling in the world.  Thunk.  The strike rattled through my line, rod, and hands.  I set the hook and a healthy 15"er came to the yak to be measured.  I looked at my phone, 11:58am!

Unlike bass boat tournaments where they weigh the heaviest 5 fish, in kayak tournaments we measure our 3 longest bass.  This was just great I had fished almost four hours and only one measurable fish. And, only three hours left.  Hate to admit it but I was in panic mode.  

I headed to a shallow reedy bank in hopes that there might be some more scattered wood.  I thought I might be able to duplicate my last bite.  After several casts it was easy to tell the fish weren't there.  I was about to leave when a friend and fellow kayaker came through a narrow cut.  I shared my struggles and how I caught my fish.  I guess fishing was tough period.  He had spent the whole morning in the southern end of the lake but zero fish.  We decided to paddle to a near by bay and see if we could figure something out.  It was now 12:38pm.

I took one side of the bay and he took the other, both of us fishing jigs.  Minutes later, my friend landed a nice 16"er off an old stump on the bank.  That was two fish, on a jig and next to wood.  It was not much to go by but at least it was something.  I immediately hit every wooden dock in that bay.  It seemed like every other dock held a fish.  I ended up with 5 bites, 5 fish.  Two of them were just over 14" and the rest were in the 13" range.  I had my limit and a pattern but only an hour and a half to fish. 

Frantically, I covered as much water as I could and hit every dock I could but couldn't upgrade. I knew of a large fallen tree that extended into deeper water but I saw another angler fishing down the bank.  He was further off shore and I waited until he left.  With time running out, I paddled over and anchored just off the deeper end of the lay down.

Nothing doing . . . the time was up. I headed to the launch to prepare for our measure-in and awards.  Although the weather was great, the bite was tough across the board.  Nobody found a huge female in the 18-20" class.  Most the fish measured were males, who were up shallow looking for places to bed.  We announced the winner(s) and raffled off prizes donated by our sponsors. Before everyone headed home, we took some pictures and discussed our up coming official events. You could see the excitement on everyone's face and there was even a little trash talking.  All in all, our first get together was a great success and it was hard to feel anything but extremely proud of what we have started!