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Chinese Invade Lake
Camanche
By: Ron Wilson
May 22, 2008.... Dr. Quen Young, Martin
Chin of
San Francisco and I recently fished Lake Camanche. On the
way up to
the lake my cell phone rang. It was Martin who was at
the lake already. He said he had been there since 6:30 a.m. but
Quen had told him 7:30 a.m. I told him I was running a little late and
would be there at 7:15. I had to feed Quen breakfast before we headed
out! One thing about Doctor Quen, he don’t get in a hurry for nothing
and just takes life as it comes!
We arrived at the gate and the boat check
and everything was done in a timely fashion. Something new is that if
you take the boat out the gate and turn around to come in again you will
be checked again, no 7 day grace period anymore.
After talking with Chris Cantwell, who is
now working some 7 day work weeks as the business there has fallen
better than 40 percent this year I could see why there was hardly anyone
around.
We met Martin at the ramp and he was more
than ready to go. I couldn’t help but remind him of his last words
spoken to me a couple years ago when he had come over for a days
fishing. Hey Martin do you remember when after fishing all day with us
the last time your last words to me at the fish cleaning station was
that I was an asshole! He said you remember that Ron and I said yep and
I haven’t changed a bit!
We launched and the wind was blowing
already and I started looking for a place on
the lake where we could fish without whitecaps. It was soon
evident that the wind was with us big time making it hard to fish. Quen
and I managed a half dozen bass and a huge crappie by lunch time. I
hadn’t found that magic bait that I knew would put fish in the boat for
us. Senko's, Gitzit's and a 1050 Keeper Worm had worked a little, but
not exactly what the fish wanted.
During lunch I went through my boxes
trying to find that magic bait. Clear water, the usual dark worms
weren't working for me. I started putting together the boxes with
lighter colored baits for the clear water to try. Not knowing what was
working at
the lake had caused me to throw thousands of baits in the truck
so I was prepared for anything.
Martin in the meantime had went to the
marina to buy some minnows so he could catch a fish. Once a bobber
fisherman always a bobber fisherman I guess! I told Martin that I
couldn’t fish live bait any more as I didn’t have the patience to wait
for the fish to come to me.
After lunch I headed to the bridge to see
if I could hook a catfish or two since I had some dead crawdads. I
baited a swim bait rod rigged with 25 pound test line tossed it out and
handed it to Quen. About 10 minutes later I saw Quen's rod pump once and
then bow almost double. I don’t have any idea how big it was but it took
him in the rocks and we didn’t get him out. Quen gets a little lax at
fishing and he let the fish get its head and it kicked his butt in a
hurry! My guess was that it was a 20 plus pounder because when Quen
realized he was in trouble the fish had the control and did what it
wanted.
Martin told Quen that it wasn’t a fish
that he was just hung on a rock. Since the boat was secure Quen and I
both knew better and if it was a rock it was a lively one for awhile.
Martin continued dragging his live minnows around with no luck.
We called it an early day and headed back
to the motel room for a fine steak dinner cooked by Martin. At 4:30 a.m.
the next morning while I was taking my morning constitutional I heard
Martin in the kitchen and then him holler at Dr. Young to get up. I had
to chuckle out loud as I was sitting there knowing that Quen was looking
at his watch and wondering what the hell was going on with Martin
getting him up at this time of day. Needless to say we were on the water
just as it got light enough for me to see to navigate.
 I
headed toward the dam and the wind was starting to blow already. As I
came to Little Hat Island I noticed a protected cove and headed for it.
The breeze was perfect and gently blew the boat down the bank. Martin
finally got his first fish of the trip on a split-shot rig I set up for
him with a Keeper 6 inch 1005 worm. It was no monster but a nice 2 plus
pound bass. Quen and I fished the rock wall with dart heads and 1005
worms and green/bubblegum senko's and we soon had several fish in the
boat. I had finally found a bait that was working for us.
I fired the boat up and headed back to
the point where Martin had caught his first fish. As I watched my depth
finder I would mark a fish and then drag Martin and Quen's splitshot
rigs over them and Martin would come up with the fish, a 2 pounder then
a 3 pounder and then he hooked a toad, in the 8 pound class.
We were soon being told how great of a
fishermen he was and how he had 4 while Quen wasn't doing that well and
he even mentioned to me how I should be fishing. I told Quen we had
created a monster and he would be paying for it for a while when he got
back to San Francisco with the rest of his tennis playing buddies.
Another quick lunch and then back on the water for the afternoon bite to
finish off our limits. The bite was a lot tougher but we managed to
finish off our 15 fish limit.
The next morning we hit the area again.
Martin quickly caught a 3 pound bass. I though here we go again but that
was it for him that day. Dr. Quen really had a hard time as I tried all
kinds of baits with no success at all. I think I used enough different
types of plastic baits up trying different things and styles to make a
tire! That morning Martin had mentioned a black bass lunch and I was
ready for some fresh fish. At the cleaning station I mentioned what he
had said about fresh fish for lunch the night before and he informed me
I was getting a sandwich. This didn’t set well with me after fishing
hard for my lunch and having to listen to the ha ha’s and constant
chatter.
After a sandwich I brought all the black
bass rods in and set the boat up for trolling for trout. With the moon
coming up around noon I knew it would be an afternoon bite for the fish.
I headed to the dam to get away from the whitecaps and hide somewhat
from the wind. I dropped down to 35 feet and had stacker rods at 20 to
25 feet. I used Ex-Cel blue/gold, ladybug, fire tiger and a blue/silver
to start with.
I made the first pass outside the buoys
and a rod went off. I only had the fish on for a minute as the fish had
the rod bent double and was stripping line heading off to god knows
where when he suddenly came unbuttoned. Dam I though I don’t like that.
The fish hit the Ex-Cel ladybug!
We stayed on the troll and the ladybug
lure got hit again, Martin reeled and reeled, I knew it was a nice fish
and all he did was stand there cranking the handle with no line coming
in. Now he had told me how many fish he had caught etc. etc. and I could
mot help myself by saying what the hell are you doing. You have a 6
pound fish on 8 pound line with a 4 or 5 pound drag and you are standing
there trying to wind him it. Pump the rod up and then reel down, I
thought you knew how to fish!
That pissed him off but I could of cared
less at the time. I wasn’t out there to sooth anyone’s ego, I was out
there to put fish in the boat and we were on a hot bite with big fish
and I wanted to work them over while they were biting.
We put a couple more fish in the boat and
I made a pass back where the big ones were holding. It was Martins
turn again and a trout in the 7 pound class was on. Samething happened
and I yelled come on work that fish pump the rod up and reel down.
Martin wasn’t saying a word.
I set up for a pass and it was Quen and
then my turn to reel in a fish. I called Quen’s attention to the depth
finder as I hit the 42 foot ledge with fish holding on the edge of the
drop-off. See the fish on the depth finder Quen, yes he said now watch
this I said as I turned the boat sideways into the wind bringing the
outside rods past the area where the fish were and both rods dipped into
the water with fish on them. We had a couple more nice fish for the box.
Martin was up next, he would pull the rod back and then snap it down
with slack in the line and then reel, Jesus Christ I said out loud. Quen
netted the fish and we called it a day.
Back at the ramp as I was driving the
truck down to get the boat Martin was heading to his car like a dog that
had been whipped. When I got the boat loaded Quen informed me that
Martin was heading home because I had yelled at him. To me all that
meant was that Martin could dish it out but he couldn’t take it.
Quen keeps telling me I always have a
match lit to burn bridges with people, I think maybe its time for Quen
to buy me a torch so I can get the job done quicker as life gets
shorter! To me it was another great trip, I had found and figured out
the fish and we put them in the boat and Quen had an ice chest full of
trout and bass to take home and give away.
As you can tell by reading these words of
wit I will never make a guide so if you would like to go out with a good
one I suggest you contact Bruce Hamby of Sierra Sportfishing,
(209) 599-2023. |
