For the second year now my friend Paul has invited me to go along with him to a place sooo few have travelled. On Wednesday August 2nd, he and I started our long weekend real early by getting up to catch the morning high tide at Sand Head, near the mouth of the Moose River at James Bay. Calm west winds and warm sun at 7:30am we were loaded up, launched, and motoring under the quiet power of Paul's 40hp Yammy on the back of his 24ft Gee-man boat.
Hitting the Bay you could faintly smell the salty breeze that would help push us all the way 80km east across the shallow, muddy, saline ocean. I couldn't sit still, often neglecting my duty to watch for floating logs and other drifting motor munchers.
After 2 hours full out we hit the sand flats about a mile off the east coast of James Bay, and a little south of the channel into the river. Paul was pretty quick to find the deep water though, and before long we were inside the mouth. A few Canada's lined a sandy bar on the way in, and after a couple miles travelling up river we spotted our first bald eagle. Before long we made the Moose Cree Goose Camp and to our delight not one cabin was in use, and neither were any of the teepees or tent frames. About 5 more miles up river we arrived at our campsite. We had everything set up by about 11am and were on the water to fish with the river to ourselves and no one around for likely 80km.
Paul using his standby 4" white Berkeley grub had his first within 20 meters of our camp when we just set down for a troll.
I was only moments behind with a decent first of my own, picking up this eye on a red Waveworm. (thanks to KC at NAA for sending me up 7 bags of trial plastics for this trip, greatly appreciated)
For the next 5 hours or so until supper; having had some homemade mahi mahi and crab chowder on the river while fishing, Paul and I hammered fish after fish. He was up on me for sure, which is usually the case when we're out, for Paul is definetely a better morning and daytime fisherman than myself. By 5pm I called a timeout to travel back to camp, clean some fish, have dinner, and rest before the evening bite came on and before the tide came into bring us up some fresh fish. Here's a couple keepers.
Water levels were up this year compared to last. Finding fish in the same holes took a little adjusting for Paul and I. The water temps were mid to high 70s but and we were finding 90% of our walleye in slighly swifter current areas holding in the 18 inch to 36 inch depths. Some fish were back in the 4-7 foot holes but not many. The walleye like last year were shallow, but then again, I don't think there is a hole on that river that would exceed 10 feet with the tide in at this time of year. It's not like they have to hide either when water clarity is 16 inches at best. Here's a picture nearby our fishing area to give you folks an idea.
Back on the water at 730pm Paul got right back to work. I was finding it hard to keep up with the guy this year as he had this "hardcore fishing machine" energy about him this trip. His white grubs kept kicking butt.
But, the evening bite belongs to me....hahaha....and I took big fish honors with this 23" 4lb headshaker, to the finish.
That evening we tried to figure it out before hitting the hay. "How many do you think Paul?" I'd asked a few times. This day... conservatively... around 120 walleye. 70 or so for Paul and 50 for myself.
5am the next morning I woke to the sound of my stomach and the shivers. Paul woke about 15 minutes later to the call of two sandhill cranes that flew by heading west on the river. I made my way down the bank to the boat to get some bagels and ham, and greeted the morning fog.
After a quick breakfast we were back on the water. This morning we were going to use the incoming high tide to travel safely back down river towards the Bay to try some spots we can only travel to and from with the tides. So much of the wildlife here is tide dependent. All waterfowl feed easier I'd bet at low tide. Fresh schools of fish can move into the river out of the salt water Bay with the incoming tide. Other fish already there will press on further upriver or feed I bet off the rising shorelines. We in turn can catch fish more easily with a low tide when they're schooled up in oxygenated shallow swifts. I find it cool to know I'm fishing salty walleyes... not so salty as the ocean itself, but salty nonetheless.
After 3 1/2 hours trying new spots that produced last year, we'd caught nothing. So we headed back to our holes upriver and slayed them for an hour before lunch.
And Paul, the daytime fisherman extraordinaire, decided he'd keep a few for friends a family back home.
At noon we broke for some homemade chili. A usual preprepared quick and easy shorelunch.
That afternoon we did some trolling. We just troll jigs as nothing is as effective. I tried the fly rod and after 20 minutes or so catching squat and watching Paul catch like 5 or 6 it seemed, I put that away for good. I also tried my rod spooled with braided line, and for the second year in a row remained skunked with 20lb PowerPro. Walleye in these parts either don't hit, or detect braids way too well. Back onto 8 or 10lb Berk XT, Paul and I just kept the numbers coming. Only a couple dozen the entire trip would have fallen under the 12" mark. Most walleyes were in the 14-20" range with maybe 2 dozen or so breaking into the 20-22" length.
By 5pm a big thunderhead was approaching out of the west. Paul was talking on his satellite phone with his wife and she told us back in Moosonee the power had flickered out due to very high winds and a storm. As the first few drops fell on us I asked to head back to camp for supper. Paul wanted to stay out but I got the better of him. We had some time back at camp and actually managed to cook and eat a big walleye meal when the rains started pelting down. In the trees we were OK, a little buggy and wet maybe, and after an hour it stopped. The sun broke out by about 730pm when we made our way out for the evening bite, and again, the evening bite produced bigger fish and was nothing short of awesome.
Sunset came quick, it was another nice one.
End of the day it was probably a liberal 50/50 split for Paul and I. That's about 50 walleye for him and 50 for me. Plastics took a bit of a backseat to bucktails. Yellow Gulp at the end of a pink and white bucktail had it's moment with me in the afternoon, as did Berk pumpkinseed grubs and a dark green with red fleck waveworm. Heck, maybe I could have put sh!t on a jighead and caught 'em. But the heads needed to be 3/8oz cause 1/4 and 1/2oz heads those fish wanted nothing to do with. They were hungry for some specifics I guess.
Next morning we woke to hell, but first I did to the tapping of a woodpecker in the tree above. We were hoping to pack up camp, make our way out onto the Bay then travel south to the Harricanaw River where the walleye are fewer but bigger. Wasn't going to happen though. A cold front with major gusty winds and drizzle was hammering down on us incoming from the west, north-west. Maybe Paul would have tried, but the river was kicking up pretty good nearer the mouth when we finally got there around 10am. I didn't want to brave big waves coming across us in what can be shallow shoaled waters. As we arrived at the Goose Camp near the mouth of the river, four incoming boats that travelled east with the prevailing winds and waves, came into greet us. Friends from Moosonee. Howie, whom I fished the walleye opener with, arrived with his wife, as well as a couple other Paramedics, a pilot and their kids. Howie reported it was rough, and that some nastier northern weather looked to be coming along as well. Paul and I made the decision to stay at the camp, dry out our belongings, thoroughly clean some fish, eat up some good meals, fish the lower end of the river come evening, then leave on the following morning tide. It ended up being a great day of R&R, and, by 4pm we were back on the river fishing as the weather began to lift.
Fishing that evening was off. Paul and I dropped a couple dozen fish and maybe only caught 10 between the two of us. As the tide started to come in we made the executive decision to head back to camp. Upon arriving there though, the winds had died, the river turned to glass, and the sun was setting in clearer skies so a 5 minute trip out onto the Bay for a photoshoot was in order.
The geese were out there in good numbers. They were hard to define in the color pic but this sepia shot makes it easier.
Then somehow got this overexposed(?) shot of them flying away.
And finally, a couple that worked.
This one from back at camp.
After a good night sleep we stood on the banks the next morning watching and waiting for the tide to rise. Howie had picked up a new Northwest 24' freighter canoe that I just couldn't stop admiring. $10,000 boat plus cost of 30-60hp motor... I'd honestly consider it worth every penny. They're awesome. When the water rose high enough Howie and Mandy, and Paul and I, headed for home.
Paul called home from somewhere on the middle of the Bay, said we'd be there in an hour. We were.
Last year catching so many fish and making the trip a first timer well, it totally blew my mind. This year's return was something every bit as memorable, as I was offered up complete peace of mind..... along with a whackload of gold bar marbled eyes.
Hope it happens again in the future.
That is definitely pickeral heaven. 
