Wasn't long before I spotted some belugas and seals playing water volleyball with a dead sucker. No time to stop and serve, bump, volley and spike I kept my 15 Johnson wide open and enjoyed the power of that breeze in my face.
Got up to the mouth of the French and the walleye were a juuuuuummmping in fine fashion. I tied up a snap swivel like I always do and just threw out a bare 9/0 treble hook. Nothing on it at all, it was one of those mornings I knew the fish didn't want bait they just wanted cold hard sharpened bronze.
About 3 seconds into the first cast and retreive. BANG. Fish ON!!! THIS ONE'S A LUNKER I thought, do not pass go and do not collect $200 dollars, just park your butt on the bottom of yer freighter canoe, brace yourself and let your 8lb super limp stretch this Walter's neck.
And so it goes and goes for about 3 1/2 hours, tussle here, head shake there, tug tug tug tug tug, ziiiiiiinnnnnng goes the reel, pick up the slack, pump it pump it pump it. It was pure fishing at it's finest, and when it was over I reached down into the drink, grabbed this walter by his dink and threw him in like I was sending one home from way out there in center field.
Here he is take a gander lads and lasses.
I snapped just 2 pics of this 48.5 incher walleye, I normally do 'bout 15 to 18 inches better, but this one was a good fighter so I gave it some props and a word to yer mother. Then I packed up and went home and sold it to the highest bidder at the dock.
After lunch figured I'd head over to the wheres I keep my weed.... ahem, cough, where the weed bed is, I meant to say, at the other end of the island.
Took along the ultralight and my favorite lure a Mepp#2 figuring I'd cast for some suntanning pike. Well sure as sh!t it was just first cast, actually, not even first cast, it was on the wind up of the backcast that I feel a huge TUG and a THUMP ZINGY.
Reel goes a screeeeeeeammmmmming. All my line out and right to the granny knots end, well I tell ya it's a good thing granny showed me the granny knot cause it stopped this pike dead in it's tracks. Thank God for the 10lb test Power Pro too. Well, there was just no fight in this pike after it's whiplash. I think it might have compressed it's C3 through C22 truthfully, or else just completely severed a few vertebra. Anyways, the big gurl was done, and I just powered it through the weeds back to the beach.
And here is the twisted sister herself, the FAT 66" pike off the back of the island I call home. Fishing's wicked awesome up here guys.
Enough pike fishin' I headed home for a 6 pack, some sex with Bren and a nap.
After supper, a feed of canned tuna and mac and cheese, I headed over in the taxi boat to Moosonee to try the cricks fer some specks. Now I know what youz are thinking... hadn't the Bunk had enough??? HELL NO! I wanted the Grand Slam today and I was by-geez gonna have it.
So I hit the crick is what I did and hit it hard. It was a 96km hike uphill bothways to my secret spot but was there no way my 2 sprained ankles were gonna stop me from getting there. Made it up in about..... ohhh.... pretty good time..... 16 maybe 17 minutes.
I stepped to streamside. Looked both ways before wading the pool just in case of any oncoming snapper turtles, and low and behold guess what I see??? WELL GUESS DAMN IT! I'd never seen a searun speckle of such grandeur before, but sheeeet it saw me too. "HEY YOU SPECKLEDEDED TROOT!!!" I yelled across, and down and over and back up the pool again. "YEAH YOU" I bellowed again. "LISTEN YOU FINE SPECIMEN OF FINE SPECIMENS, YOU GOT NOWWHERES TO GO WITH THE LOW WATERS IN THE CRICK THIS SEASON SO I'M GONNA THROW YA THIS HERE PINK BUCKTAIL AND YER GONNA PUT IT IN YER KIPE, SHAKE YER HEAD, JUMP IN AND OUT OF THESE HERE DIRTY CRICK WATERS, THEN GET YER butt UP HERE TO THE TIP OF MY ROD WHEN I TELL YA!" Sure as sh!t the fish did what is what told. No speck knows better than to risk a foul hook from my left bicep.
Well, I know you wanna see it so here it is. Better enjoy it everybody and don't question it's size either when I tell ya it was just a single kiwi hair under 30 inches.
So it almost went for the day.
Walking home I sprained my frickin knee when I twisted my already twisted ankle in a marten hole. I'm lying on the ground in agony when a little woodland nymph comes kisses me on the cheek and says I'm it's hero. Well shucks, I thought that was so sweet I stuck around to talk about monster trucks and corn on the cob awhile. BUT, it was all a trap. The nymph was a diversion and while we talked all intelectual and stuff the nymphs half brother nymph swiped my digi camera from my knapsack.
When I got home and found the camera mizzissing I swore up and down the place awhile and cried that no one at the Fish-Hawk would believe my day. Then it came to me. I remembered what those fish looked like... I mean heck... I gotta a photographicers memory card in my head, so, you know what I did.... well you already saw.... I gone and done drawed youz all the pictures just like I would have taken them on my digi.
Isn't that an awesome day.
Hahahaha 
