1. True North Air's, Maurice Robin had previously emailed asking if I wanted to come up to Kesagami and fish world class pike and walleye waters from their recently renovated camp outfitted with solid Naden boats and new Yammy motors.
2. A crew of newer friends Mike (SM05) and Carl (Carlco) as well as old tripping buddy Grant (Slop) were recruited as my mates to take on the task of taming big fish, digesting gargantuan Moosebunk meals, and each supplying their own share of the weeks bill.
So on with the report of our trip... Enjoy!
Day 0 - PIKE LEADERS.
Couldn't tell yas how many times over the years I rode the Polar Bear past Gardiner Air Services tiny outfit and float plane that was stationed along the ONR rail between Moosonee and Cochrane. The sight of it often made me wonder, what might owner Ron Barron provide if there was ever a chance to take flight with him into one of his camps, maybe even his Partridge Lake Camp for Kesagami.
See, I'm the lucky guy who's had more than a few good cracks at the James Bay giants and plentiful gold which swim Kesagami... the ice fishing being the favorite and Kesagami Lodge experience proving pretty frickin' great too. So, when the new owner of Ron's old outfit, Maurice Robin of Cochrane's True North Air said hello one cold wintery night, I was really warmed with future ideas.
Wasting no time with emails, on the phone I found Maurice to be a genuine and excited man. This was his new passion, and a passion it evidently is. New renovations, hard work, a crazy tinny trip down the Kesagami River with lumber and supplies, business roadblocks, but the perseverance to surpass that all, to an attentive ear it was an interestingly fun beginning for what I was feeling would ultimately lead to this report.
Carl and Grant took no time accepting when an invite was sent their way. The Agent Stevie Zebco (see past Kesagami Ice reports and Mission Fishin' Impossible) was sadly sidelined by his wife after I nearly killed him during a blizzard on Kesagami in March, so the final member of our team, Mike, was happily recruited last minute.
Our summer departure date came quick and we four found ourselves meeting in my driveway at 7:00am on a Saturday morning. The "buzz" eager anglers share before embarking on a big trip fueled us all and before we knew it eight hours had passed by and the Ottawa to Cochrane car leg was easily finished. That evening at the motel before settling, we stood out in the parking lot playing show and tell, sharing a little hard liquor and laughing over Grant's humor. This crew I could tell was perfect for the coming week.
Day 1. FISHIN' GUN.
Maurice's wife Christine provided the muffins, coffee and warm hospitality while Maurice weighed in on the details. Inside their new home and anglers waiting room, on the wall I admired an enormous speckled trout mount, a fish caught from another acquired camp with True North. Outside the fellas chatted away and took pictures of the docked planes which would take us to Partridge Lake.
Aboard the Beaver and up by 8:00am, our smooth hour flight took us over Northeastern Ontario lakes and rivers such as the Abitibi, Pierre, Montreille, Singer, Edgar, Wekwayowkastic, Nettogami and Kesagami to name a few. Mike and Carl snapped pictures while Grant enjoyed the cockpit view until our pilot bombed us in over the trees to drop us onto our Partridge dock. Carl enjoyed the bushplane ride most of all.
Mike gave the inspection. He's into high end home sound systems and installation but has some carpentry background. He came over, gave me his thumbs up and reported that the floors are shiny, the place is spotless and the attention detail that has gone into the cabin was quality work. I'd be happy in a tent I thought, but I guess the cabin will do.
We took our time settling in. In fact, over the next 3 1/2 hours we pumped 25 liters of drinking water with our two MSR's to have that done, claimed our beds, assembled our fishing rods, sorted our things and made some lunch. By 12:30pm it was time to undergo the Partridge Lake to Kesagami Lake trek.
Piece of cake. Kesagami Lake is within Provincial Park boundaries and besides local Cree interests and dwellings, Kesagami Lake Lodge appears to be the only permitted outfit to operate directly on the lake's shores within the park. Partridge Lake's cabin located outside of the park; as we experienced, was simply a 5 minute boat ride down Partridge Lake to a dock, then a 5-10 minute walk across an approximate 400 meter trail to a legal boat cache situated on a quiet sandy beach on Kesagami.
Grant couldn't believe the size of the lake, it totally surprised him. Actually, all week long he kept reminding us of that. It really is a big sucker when you're down on it finally and not just viewing a map or peering at it from a plane window. I personally love it's magnificence... scary, awe inspiring, vast, silent, harsh, peaceful, teeming, alive, ancient, inviting... it’s just some of what is, Kesagami.
A northwest wind slowly switching southwest, a mix of sun and cloud with scattered showers over distant horizons, Carl and Grant took advice and headed north to more sheltered waters with fertile pike bays. Mike followed me, for I had a date with an old monster. Our reels rested still in hand, we hoped to soon sting our first pike when we set off on a troll.
Back 2007 I stayed with Kesagami Lodge for 5 days with my buddy Kev, aka FLOAT. On our first fishing day there we tried a few spots recommended to us before the winds got bad and we ventured (were kinda pushed along) towards the southern end of the lake. Kev caught a pike on the troll of about 36 inches before a point jutted out onto the lake, when we rounded that point I hooked bottom. This excerpt taken from my old report should sum up the rest...
... "only minutes after the lines were down I get a snag. But it's no snag. My lure stopped dead in it's tracks. I threw the boat into neutral and it's forward drift is brought to a quick stop. The snag starts to move slow towards the shoreline and I tell Kev, "it's a big feesh." I lean on the mofo and I swear the boat moves backwards to it as it still swims slow to the shore. Put more pressure and then the thing takes a sudden quick run and gives a headshake and spits the lure. Devastated, I'm reeling in the slack when the fish jumps clear out of the water belly aimed right at us and I see then the full length and size of the pike I just lost. It was by far my biggest loss to date."
That pike remained for the longest time, in my mind, the heaviest and largest pike I had ever hooked on soft water. As we neared that point, about the same time of day, same kind of conditions, taking the same troll line, it was some kind of magic or divine intervention when my Curado peeled off, the hook drove home and I lifted the rod tip and felt an immense mobile weight. “FISH ON!!!†I told Mike the instant the fish surfaced during the fight that it was my largest pike ever. Time was 3:00pm and just one hour into our trip.
All ya could think with this fish is... HOLY MASSIVE HEAD!!! Seriously had some major elephantitis encephalitis going on.
And back to the big swim she went...
Awesome sharing that with Mike. His first fly-in, his first big pike trip, his first hour Kesagami pike encounter, he was happy for me, and I with the catch. We trudged on around that point and down into a bay when there from some sandy shallow along a beach another solid pike smacked my offering. Booyah!!! Shoreline action! This place is smoking!
Wind and waves outside of the sheltered bays continued to build and our half day of fishing found us eventually reaching the bottom of the lake. Protected, shallow and scenic, Mike and I pretty much finished up the day exploring new water, catching a number of weed oriented walleye and smaller pike, then retreating back to the boat cache for a designated time.
Slightly calmer waters in the north, Carl and Grant inspected two different pike bays during their six hour lake initiation. One bay they reported was a dud... but the other bay got them really quite excited. During their time they caught, sighted and a couple times lost some very solid pike.
End of the day was a happy one for them both.
By 8:30pm we were all back through the trail and onto Partridge. A spot on the lake had caught my eye on the map and from air, so Mike and I boogied over to check it out. Trolling jigs on the light gear we popped and dropped back a couple dozen walleye over the next hour while the sun did set into a cool full moon night. Back in the cabin, munching burgs and spud salad with some Kim Mitchell and scotch, we played "Spin The Knife" to see what the next days pairings would be.
Day 2. GIGANTICORS.
Blue sky 5:30am Grant wake-up slumbering into a gooey delicious French toast and sausage breakfast, the morn air was sticky hot and outhouse door in full swing. With this perfect weather day the plan was we head over to the 20 kilometer long Newnham Bay and I safely show the fellas for just one day of the trip this immense section of the lake.
Pulled pork sandwiches, jerky and ice tea packed, by 10:00am we were motoring out over a glass lake heading east towards Kesagami Lodge. Night before the knife spun to Mike and Carl so they were team one and Grant and I team two.
On the water we thought we spotted another boat. The Lodge's buoys marking the many shallow hazards on the lake were all still out. The Lodge had already closed for the summer but I knew my buddy Dave could still be on the lake working to clean up these buoys and winterizing the Lodge. Knowing that people might still be around we slowed our pace to Newnham and then planned to set off in different directions for the morning and meet up later. Grant gave his approval.
A big island rests in the middle of the lake and I figured it would take each boat a few hours to fish around it before we should join up in front of the Lodge. Grant and I took the north route, the lads the south. Along the way we pegged a few average pike casting and trolling before coming to a point. Following the shoal offshore Grant's direction got spun.
A gnarly "Snarlin' Darlin'" as he would describe it, gave Slop's rod a bendin'.
Off to the south Carl and Mike started slow on the pike but then found themselves a perfect little offshore Vegan Lovers B&B that had some more than angry and starving meat hungry gluttons about.
Carl discovered the the day before that he had a hot offering. He affectionately named it... "Sexy." Mike was now gaining confidence in his own fave lure as well, and found a producer which he freakishly titled, "Bleeding Rabbit." Both fellas weren't done with the Vegan B&B at all, and so it was no surprise to Grant and I that they were a little late for our rendezvous. When we found them early afternoon, Carl was all nestled up in his new personal best pike blanket which "Sexy" had lured from the cabbage bed. Sexy almost got her pike but she blew it, so Carl was forced to pimp out a slower jig in order to get this trick.
Congrats brutha!!! What a shot. Blackmail!!! Wait ti'll Carl's wife sees who he's been laying with.
The B&B closed up once Grant and I arrived. Guess we weren't welcome. Decidedly we'd venture onwards to Newnham.
In front of the Lodge I couldn't believe how shallow it was. The boat motors trimmed up we were forced to crawl into the narrows leading into Newnham. Once inside the fishing seemed poor and I reconsidered our long voyage. If the early going into the bay was this hazardous, I didn't want to risk 10 to 20 kilometers of it. Besides, the spots down there are a good distance from one another so it would have been a lot of long putting to reach any holes. We turned our rigs around and waved goodbye to that end of the lake and the lone soul standing on the Lodge's dock.
So it came to be late afternoon when we decided to separate our efforts again. I pointed out to Mike and Carl a bay and shoreline for them to pound relentlessly between 4:30 and 6:30pm, while Grant and I would head off to explore and hopefully salvage the slow day our boat was having.
We found a few gold flashes in a pan but never the bronze we were mining for.
Awhile later at our designated meeting place around 7:00pm, Carl and Mike came racing in both grinning ear to ear. Mike caught his personal best pike in the bay. "The major power runs of his Giganticor" as he described, had him totally pumped. Turned out the spot produced a good number of pike, including his biggun' and another trophy or two.
Mike still juiced he and Carl pushed away from us and slid on over to the far shore of the bay we were fishing in. Still amped, confidence full and the "Bleeding Rabbit" kicking it into high gear, it took only a few minutes before Mike yelled over, "Another forty plus."
Great way to end the day on Kesagami. Second day of pikin' complete and, all in the group had achieved trophy fish status with three of us catching our new personal best pikes.
We made it back to Partridge before last light and an incoming thunderstorm arrived. I snuck in a shower then Mike and I prepared supper while Carl and Grant toured over to the aptly named "Grocery Store" to pick-over some eyes we would need for the next days meal.
"How many did ya catch Carl?" I asked when they returned, "Sixty or so," he replied. Of course we kept only the limit.
Day 3. POW!!!
A high and chilly northwest front off James Bay was rolling in against a stiff and troubled southwest wind. We'd been up for hours but were late getting to the fishing. By noon once reaching Kesagami the lake was capping offshore of the cache but we set out anyways in hopes of finding sheltered waters.
Grant and Mike took to the productive northern bays while Carl and I went south into the wind. Didn't take us long to find fish, but not many pike were biting. Amidst a solid walleye beating along a more protected breeze swept shoreline, Carl found a willing pike participant to add to his total.
Most of our time was spent running the offshore shorelines and staying tight to avoid the big winds and chop. One of the noteable advantages with the placement of True North's boat cache location is, most spring and early summer prevailing winds are westerlies. Southwest to northwest being quite common. So, when the lake kicks up its nasties and pounds the east shores, often from the offshore western cache I'd predict one could escape more easily to at least some of the sheltered bays south or north.
On this day though, Grant and Mike who went north were blown off. The southwest wind gusted over the lakes entire length and tossed "halfpipes" up the lake which they were forced to uncomfortably surf. A near overboard and they retreated over to Partridge Lake early afternoon to spend the rest of their day completing a few chores and enjoying ultralight catches of 70-ish walleye and a couple dozen smaller pike.
Carl and I worked at it in the south remaining out for the rest of the day. One point we tried crossing the lake at Fossil Island and it was there that I put the life jacket on. Three to four footers with the odd bigger rogue was kinda spooky in a 14 foot tinny for the first time, but after awhile the nerves calmed and it was realized that these deep Nadens are pretty darned worthy and able to handle that. In fact, I was more impressed than I had guessed I'd be with them. Even with 9.9's on the back (the most HP the Park will allow) my GPS speed at full out would often read 17 to 18 miles per hour... about 30 klicks. Pretty good giddy up and control for their size, and most importantly, small enough to bounce and likely keep running after hitting any unexpected hazard.
A lone bake apple was spotted on the trail back to Partridge, and once at camp we chose a befitting dinner to highlight the day... "Walleye Tornados."
Going full tilt all day, every day, and pluggin' along on less sleep than average, it's a good idea to fuel up well with hearty meals every night. We enjoyed for the week a burger night, steak night, tornados, lasagna, fajitas, surf and turf, and finally a pike night. The cheesecake desserts though, were I think Grant's favorite part.
Ribeyes and shrimp.
Cedar smoked peameal and garlic butter pike with shrimp and scallops.
Full bellies we hit the hay hard at the end of this day.
Day 4. EUCHRE'D.
Laying half asleep in the bed with the screened window open, a strong gust of cold air blew some papers and magazines to the floor. Startled I sat up and peered outside to the dock and lake. The waves were capping and smashing our shoreline. A sudden realization the sterns were facing outward I woke all the fellas when I yelled, "THE BOATS!"
Zipping down to the dock the four of us grabbed onto the tied up gunnel of a half submerged tinny and pulled it up toward the dock to drain it out. The second boat was fine and needed just some bailing, but both had flipped the 2.5 gallon tanks and that gas had been mixed with water. Lesson learned... motors locked upward and bows facing out from now on. In this case, the Yammy's were fine and we made quick work of sorting out the gas.
Overnight a hideous NNW wind barged in. Rain drenched off and on for the morning inbetween a couple bouts of hail and a period when Mike and I confirmed the rain looked and moved considerably like snow. The cabin shook every now and again with the blows.
After a chunky breakfast munchy we all retired for big naps and woke again around noon. The melancholy of the day meant it was time for cards while waiting for our "lupper" lasagna to bake. We laughed a tonne over childhood stories and spoke of trips to come. Again, the three fellas with me on this trip prooved an absolute pleasure to have along.
Mike went out on the dock and tried making a few casts into the wind, actually catching a half dozen mixed fish. And, while Carl got in a shower Grant got bored and picked some blue and raspberries with his new friend.
Carl and Grant slept plenty come afternoon while I cleaned the entire cabin just for something to do. I thought to myself while doing chores about the kind of dedication and work it must take to run an outfit like this. Outside the winds seemed to be letting up but cold showers continued to pass by. I thought we'd likely have been okay (but soggy) to head over to the big lake but decided the first three days were awesome, this rest day is welcomed now, and the next three days we'd be back hard at it.
Grant and Carl that evening slipped over to the Grocery Store and released another fifty or so walleye during the tough cold front bite. The fish were so uninterested that at one point Carl hooked a pike, shook it off, his jig flew back in the water only to have a walleye hit, then he released that while his jig fell back into the water only to have another walleye hit. Some people would give their eye teeth to experience just the couple hours the boys enjoyed during our weathered out day.
Day 5. SLAY FEST.
Must have been the lazy day before but our arses didn't roll on out from the bags until 8:00am. Plan today was for Mike and I to hit the north, giving me my first real good crack at these pikey bays, while Carl and Grant would head south to the fishy waters there.
Mike and I were off to the races during the afternoon, tonnes of blow-ups and follows and a good number of 30+ inchers released, when we then heard a plane buzzing around. It was Maurice coming in to check up on us and drop some supplies. We met him mid lake.
Nice to see him. He brought news of the coming good weather and we let him know what we'd been up to.
Maurice hadn't seen the others on the lake but I guessed them somewhere south or around Big Island. Figured they were fine...
Once Maurice departed it was time to hit the evening bay. Almost as soon as we pulled in there the fish were on. Mike and I pegged a dozen or more over the next two hours, all fish within a mid thirty to mid forty range. It was nuts how much fun these aggressive, highly explosive pike were behaving.
The winds were allowing prefect long drifts over the weedbeds and the little chop was mixing up the water giving our lures a more stealthy approach. Mike and I were enjoying the temporary view into our own little window of pike fishing heaven, when he peppered some shoreline casts out and salted himself one spicy Esox. He nearly choked I bet when he saw his dinner.
Boat side... he had a new PB to best his new PB from the other day. This fish was all junk in the trunk and rack through the back, it nearly broke his sacro-iliac.
Helluva feesh Mike. Congrats bud!
No worse for wear she kicked up a quick splash once her gills got back to some of that cold high sixty degree air.
That's how to end an afternoon and get back on track after a day off. We motored south to find the fellas, pulled the boats up at the cache and made the trail walk back to Partridge.
At camp we mowed through a sizzlin' feed of festive fajitas and cervezas while the daylight partied itself into the night.
Day 6. BLEEDING RABBIT.
Sun breaking the clouds, calm and humid southwest breezes were waiting for us at the dock.
Bacon and eggs and all the fixin's, Carl and Mike would be together again while Grant and I would take another stab at breaking the unlucky funk of our previous day teamed up. Spring in our steps we hit the cache in a flash.
Today we were all heading in the same general direction with plans for Grant to fish the productive evening bay and hopefully hit the 45 or better club like the rest of us had.
Midday a little birdy sent word that Mike was lighting up the joint and had already smoked nearly a dozen quality slime darts. Turned out, Bleeding Rabbit was in town and dealing up a whole whackload of smackdown.
That stench in the air and the pupils dilated on the cabbage, with my mushroom cap on I too felt the need for some speed and got high on a pike as well. Same fish... just one shot on the inhale and one on the ex. Cha cha!!!
But Sexy's pimp Carl would have none of our brand of juvenile fun. He was working the beds hard with his favorite lure (that at this point should have been renamed "Torn Down Hooker" ... or something to that affect) when out from under the green leafy surface sheets he ripped up the place with this ferocious one-day-stand.
Carl says... "You know you're spoiled when you're pulling Sexy away from mid 30 inch fish in order to save the last few hairs your lure has."
Thing about Carl, he loves his pike blankets..........
......... about as much he loves the pike pistols.
Away from the action, Grant and I were up in the evening bay when at exactly 5:40 we had a five minute flurry of four fish that went down something like this...
5:40 - Grant and I both see the gator wake and back of an enormous pike that hammers his spinnerbait. Grant sets the hook and reels in just a closed clasp leader. Our best guess, it was one of those elbowed spinnerbaits (not looped) and he just shredded the blades and clevises right off the top of the lure. I felt for Grant, it happens and it sucks.
5:42 - I have a trophy fish follow to the boat.
5:44 - Grant catches a dink mid 30 incher and shakes it off.
5:45 - I have another big fish follow to the boat.
5:46 - we didn't see another fish until we left that bay an hour later. They completely turned off. Wind change was definitely the culprit and Grant really was bad luck all week.
Surf and turf supper later that evening followed by more classic sun setting. We skipped the Grocery Store.
Day 7. SLASHING ORCA.
Always bittersweet the final day. I get to the point where it's a needing and feeling of seeing the girls back home, or better yet, wishing they would come to me and we stay out in the boonies for weeks and weeks together while Papa hunts for a 50 incher. Grant would have stuck around to provide entertainment and Mike too maybe. Carl I imagined wanted to see his kiddies and wife though.
Today we woke early and planned to fish a long day all together. It was another warm and breezy morn with a mix of fluff and puff under the burning ball which gives life. In a small back bay bright and early the fish were alive and biting.
Another one of those calm, flat days it became, we didn't find those conditions much conducive to moving mid day summer pike. Opinions would have it that overcast, a wee chop and some sort of incoming storm were key ingredients for tempting pike, although Carl and Mike would say flat and calm was fine by them. Turd burglars they are.
Carl was just a freak all week. If I couldn't see him cruising in a boat from 10 miles away, I could see the suns reflection beaming off his pearly whites. He always had reason to smile though... Sexy kept him on the fish, and if not her he'd get'em with one of his other lures, or even the pike gun. A saviour of men in his badass caribou boxers.
Mike on the other hand was a patient killer. Everything seemed to flow to this first timer and he took it all as if he was a natural... purely bred to do it.
I'm the idiot. Not overly bright, just highly organized. On this final day while the fishing remained kinda slow for the others, some pike seemed to like hanging out with Ole’ Dumbarse.
And lastly there's Knuckle-Nuts Grant. Just can't say how much it's been awesome getting in some hang time with this one of a kind character. Always exciting he keeps people in stitches and takes even his own tough luck with a smile.
In the last ten minutes of our planned time on Kesagami Grant's run of luck since day two finally changed. Carl and I heard him yelling from the other side of the bay and just had to race over to end our trip on his note.
"This pike runs like an orca slashing through a school of salmon," Grant claimed. An orca none to powerful to be schooled by him.
He was beaming, and we were all cheers with the enjoyment that Grant's pike show broadcasted.
All cheers until the finish...
Thumbs up and thanks guys, we’ll have another go again I’m sure... and thanks as well Maurice and Christine of True North Air Service. Good luck in your future.
www.truenorthairservice.com
LOVE IT 
WOW, that has to be the best report I have seen on here. Well done, thank you for sharing.