Granny and I awoke at our amazing campsite on the Rudbeckia Farm on the outskirts of Petoskey, Michigan and over coffee planned our Day 2 pursuit of Lake Michigan carp on the flats. Yesterday we couldn’t find a single carp up north near the Mackinac Bridge but today we were further south and there was less wind and more sun. It seemed we had a better chance.
We went to some flats I fished with some of the Scientific Anglers Fly Line crew more than ten years ago, the Lighthouse on the tip of the Old Mission Peninsula. The place is just north of Traverse City and is an absolute paradise. During this previous trip I had two good days with the carp, freshwater drum and smallmouth bass. I wasn’t only impressed with the fishing but also the scenery. Since then I’ve wanted to take Granny just once so she too could experience it. Today was the day.
The flats are beautiful and my pictures don’t do them justice. If you were to block out the landscape behind the flats, eliminating the mature maple and oak tree forest, the crystal clear bluish water could pass as a flat in the Bahamas. But no, it’s the clear and icy cold waters of Lake Michigan. There are no bonefish or permit, however as you walk along looking for the carp you often need to take a deep breath and remind yourself that its carp your after and not bonefish or permit!
Well, I’m sorry to say that in today’s expedition of searching and walking the Great Lakes flat, we once again came up empty handed on the carp. We didn’t see a single one. Word on the street is that the cold late spring has things here running about two weeks late.
Granny completely gave up after an hour and started searching for Petoskey stones. Soon after she headed for the van to get her book, a Yeti Chair and head for the beach. You can hardly blame her, by then it was absolutely gorgeous and the temperature reached 71°. I of course stuck it out and kept searching.
An hour later I was two inches from the water going over my waders, giving the deeper flats a look. I saw a rock that was big and flat. It was a wobbly move that could have ended bad but I made it up on that rock without falling. The water was then only to my waist and my view for scanning the flat was excellent. Lo and behold, a decent fish was headed my way. It didn’t look like a carp but naturally I threw my crayfish carp fly his way anyhow. It was a terrible cast that fell short and the fish ended up turning away without seeing the fly.
I was excited though and I waited around for another which took only about five minutes. It wasn’t a carp and was in fact a hefty smallmouth bass. Still frustrated with being short on my first cast, this time I launched and the crayfish imitation sank near the bass. The bass charged but didn’t eat and started swimming away. I did some quick strips hoping he’d turn back. He did and this time I stopped the fly dead and it plunged to the sandy bottom of the flat much like a real crayfish trying to hide. The smallie sucked it up just like a carp would and I strip set and he was on.
It was a fantastic fight. The smallie took some line, bullied me and jumped at least twice. Finally I landed him. It’s tough to measure and get a decent photo by yourself with a phone in a precarious wading spot but he was a fatty probably 17” or so.
That was my turning point. I went on to land nine of these beautiful smallmouth. They just kept swimming across this flat. I moved a couple times to other rocks but not much. There truly were a ton of fish. Most were in slightly smaller than the one in the photo but all were nice.
There’s one other fish worth mentioning. After landing my 8th fish I declared to myself I was done for the day. I might take Granny back out tomorrow so I wanted to save a few – keep them dumb if you may. I had a long walk back and I was ready to go to our new camp. Along my walk however I spotted what was perhaps the largest smallmouth I’ve ever seen in my life.
I ripped line off my reel as fast as I could. In my violent moves I scared the fish and though he was already moving along pretty good, he sped up. I tossed a hail Mary and led him by about 10 feet. As my fly sank he showed no interest but as soon as it hit the bottom, he stopped. I gave my fly a twitch and he wandered over, still not looking too serious but at least he was coming for a look. He tilted over the fly and just stared. Worrying he’d make out that it was nothing more than a fake, I gave it a short four inch long strip. That was it. The huge bass lunged forward and sucked it in.
I strip set and he vaulted himself to the surface and out. He jumped and tail walked more like a saltwater fish than a bass. He hit the water and repeated the act at least four more times. I don’t usually worry about losing a fish because honestly for me it’s not the end of the world, but this guy I wanted and I was afraid the bass would shake free my barbless fly.
Luckily the big bass did not shake the fly and after about a two minute battle I was reaching for his lower jaw. The bass wasn’t as fat as some of my others but he was lengthy – like 20 inches plus lengthy monster. Excitement was running through my mind and the thought was, get ahold and measure him against my rod, then worry about a picture. I’ve been a smallmouth enthusiast my entire life and this one appeared to likely beat my personal record of 20.25” mark.
Well, I’ll never know for sure how long this bass was. I got my grip but only for a second or two. As I reached clumsily for my phone, the fish broke free from my left thumb and forefinger that was holding his jaw. And when he broke lose from me, he also tossed my fly. Dang!
Strangely however, the giant bass swam to the bottom and decided to use my legs as his new cover. He literally sat by my feet looking up at me for a minute. I won’t’ ever call him my biggest because I still wont ever be sure, but he was exactly twice the length of my wading boot. That would make him around 22”. You can actually see him on bottom in this photo.
Patience turned what could have gone down as the second blank day in a row into one of the best smallmouth bass days I’ve had in a good long while. Absolutely the best as far as visually spotting them on a flat and watching them stalk and eat my fly. The day was great.
Tonight, Granny and I are camped at another Harvest Host Farm just like last night. Tonight’s is the Brengman Family Wines on the Leelanau Peninsula. Its another spectacular setting. We just finished sampling their wines and its time to make some dinner in the camper. Tomorrow we’ll look once more for carp.