Yellow Perch Triangle

By Spider Rybaak

Dave France with a nice jack perch he took at the entrance to Big Bay.

David France and James Daher are fishing buddies. They love perch. And their best spot in autumn is Oneida Lake.

Thirty years of working in the bait and tackle business has taught James a thing or two: “The lake turns over in August. By the end of the month, an algae bloom usually turns the water into pea soup and the perch all but shut down. By mid-September, the bite starts turning around again, slowly at first, accelerating as water temperatures drop. When the water hits the mid-50s, instinct tells the fish to prepare for winter and they go on a feeding binge. My magic formula at this time is: wind, weed edges and 13-foot depth,” says the colorful bait monger.

He and Dave like the west end of the lake, an area they call the “triangle.” Dave claims one of these spots usually produces.

“You gotta have a gentle wind,” says Dave, who spent his youth in Constantia. “You want it to blow just hard enough to agitate the surface into a ripple or slight chop. North and west winds are best.”

Launching at Oneida Shores County Park on the South Shore, they head due north. At the edge of the weed bed carpeting Big Bay, they search for the magical 13-foot depth. When it appears on the depth finder, they run along the line looking for fish. When some appear, James lowers the anchor, and both toss their bait over the side, weighed down with enough split-shot to get to bottom.

“When the bait touches down, I crank it up three to five inches off the floor,” says Dave, “and still-fish. I call this system vertical fishing; the only action the worm or minnow get is what the waves give ‘em.”

If they go without a hit for a half hour or so, they move east about two miles to Three Mile Bay and repeat the procedure. When the hits run out, they move again, this time south, to the weed edge crowning the channel drop-off at the western tip of Frenchman Island.

Minnows and worms work equally well for perch; but worms allow you to catch sunfish, too.

James Daher with a super smallmouth he took on a fathead minnow.

Moonrise over Wantry Island.

Chains of Oneida Lake

Sunfish, like this bluegill, grow huge in the weeds.

Back in the old days, northern pike were Oneida Lake’s top predator. The Erie Canal changed all that by draining away large portions of the huge swamp that hugged the south shore. Since nature abhors a vacuum, the place now boasts one of the Northeast’s greatest populations of the pike family’s smallest member: chain pickerel.

And the ones you catch are generally huge for the species. While the state’s minimum length for a keeper is 15 inches, anything smaller than 20 inches is scarce, staying hidden in the thickest weeds and densest cover it can find in order to avoid being eaten by its next of kin.

Unfortunately, pickerel suffer from a bad rap showered on them by sour grapes who curse their existence whenever one strikes a bait targeting walleyes, bass, even panfish. You see, a pickerel’s mouth and gill rakers are loaded with teeth so sharp, they’ll slice through the strongest line and swim away with your favorite lure. If you’re lucky enough to get one to the boat and land it, the challenge just begins. Feisty and slimy, it’ll thrash non-stop until exhaustion; and if your fingers are anywhere near its mouth, it’ll cut ya like a razor.

Sportsmen who admire nature’s wisdom in keeping an ecosystem healthy through diversity, admire these primitive, native American creatures for their vicious strikes, spirited fight and delicious taste.

After all, as cousin Staash likes to say, “Challenge is what we thrive on…eh?”

So when my good buddy Bob Twitchell mentioned all the pickerel he catches while fishing for walleyes in deep weeds, I started salivating.

“Hey, man, you gotta take me,” I pleaded.

A few days later we’re on the west end of the lake casting black jigs tipped with pieces of worm into weeds submerged in anywhere from 10 to 20 feet of water. Shortly, Bob gets the first fish, a lively, 20-inch walleye.

Casting out again, he gets a hit immediately. This time it's a pickerel. Netting it to prevent it from cutting off while struggling at the side of the boat, he carefully retrieves his jig, releases the fish and casts out again.

I’m fishless and growing increasingly jealous. Adding insult to injury, the curly-tail grub I’m vertically jigging keeps sticking itself in the tail. A couple frustrating minutes later, I swallow my pride and bum a bucktail. Tipping it with a worm (also bummed) I drop it over the side. In the time it takes to close the bail and reel in the slack, a two-pound bucketmouth slams it and the fight is on.

We spent the next three hours drifting over weeds loaded with pickerel, monster sunfish, rafts of large white perch averaging a pound, and another walleye.

Oneida Lake’s western half is loaded with weed beds. Watered by surviving swamps and numerous tributaries, punctuated with shoals, islands and deep rock piles, it’s the ideal habitat for all manner of bait ranging from insects and invertebrates to massive schools of minnows.

This abundance of food draws and holds a wide variety of game fish; while the weeds, boulders and shoreline structure give them cover from the sun. Add ‘em together and you come up with the exceptionally productive summer habitats this part of the lake is famous for.


 Large white perch abound in Oneida Lake this year.

A typical Oneida Lake pumpkinseed.

A typical Oneida Lake bucketmouth.

Our first pickerel.

Bob holding his 20-inch walleye.

Jacks in the Ice

Eric Arbogast with some nice Oneida Lake walleyes.

Climate change is a funny thing. The experts claim the world is warming. Oneida Lake formed safe ice a week before Christmas – two weeks earlier than normal – indicating things are cooling down. It’s enough to make you question the weather forecasting business.

One thing’s for certain, however. Today, January 5, Oneida Lake is crowned in an ice cap that’s six inches thick.

Ice fishermen and snowmobilers are all over the place. Some spots are so crowded with ice shelters they look like ice-fishing villages. And the fish are cooperating.

Also known around these parts as jack perch, they’re huge; averaging a solid 10 inches.
A lot are even bigger, up to 13 inches. They’re hanging out in about 20 feet of water and they’re taking Swedish pimples tipped with buckeyes.

Rick Sorenson of Apps Landing Bait Shop claims guys are coming back regularly with 20 to 30 perch. And he should know, located right at the entrance to the DEC’s popular Cleveland Dock fishing access site (parking for 15 cars and close proximity to the magical 20-foot depths), and offering a complete selection of ice-fishing bait and tackle, he’s got anglers coming and going constantly, giving him play-by-play reports on all the action.

On the hard water, anglers are proving how accurate Sorenson is. One pair of guys on the ice out in front of the shop had so many; from a distance it looked like they were sitting on ice carpeted in perch.

Bob Twichell of Fayetteville had about 15 on the ice, five of ‘em 13-inchers. He was using an old technique: drawing fish to his bait with a decoy. He’d bait a line with a perch eye, let it down to the bottom, crank it up a couple of inches and rest the rod on the edge of the ice. Then he’d call fish in by violently jigging a Sonar in a hole a couple feet away.

Bob Twitchell landing another perch.

His buddy Kyle Storie, scored much better using contemporary tactics. He had a fish finder in his hole, and jigged a dot tipped with a buckeye.

Kyle Storie and his carpet of jack perch.

Twichell says, “Walleyes come through all the time. But they don’t hit well until 4 or 5 p.m., when it starts getting dark.”

An old wives’ tale says early ice is the best for ice-fishing; probably because the fish haven’t had their senses overwhelmed with motorized augers, snowmobiles, cleats, you name it.

So get out there, walk quietly and pack a lot of bait. The fish you catch will make your shivering worthwhile.

Andrew Allerton with a nice catch he took on a Swedish Pimple tipped with a buckeye.

Fishing at the Cleveland Dock

Set into the north shore of Oneida Lake, Cleveland, NY traces its roots back to the days of our country’s founding. By the first quarter of the 19th century, it had enough residents to support a general store and hotel. As the century rolled on, glass manufacturing, spurred by the discovery that the area’s sand was the finest around, caused a mini population boom. Its deep water port, dug out of Oneida Lake by the mouth of Black Creek, facilitated huge barges that carried finished glass products to the Erie and Oswego Canals and on to world markets.

Glass manufacturing is a distant memory now, but the docks are a local hot spot for everything the lake has to offer.

The fishing's easy at Cleveland Dock.

Dropping to about six feet deep right at the dock, fed by the cool waters of the creek on the north side, lined by weeds to the south, and straddled by concrete and rocks, the harbor is an ideal bass habitat. However, stuck all summer long by everyone from dock-side, leisure-time anglers in anti-gravity chairs to professional bass pros, these fish are savvy veterans.

Still, they gotta eat sometime, and you can nail ‘em on a free-swimming minnow, fat crayfish, or by presenting lures in new and unusual ways. For instance, I watched one guy nail a 15-inch smallie by twitching a floating stickbait on the surface. What was unusual about him using this popular low light technique is that he was doing it at high noon, out in open water.

Most who fish the dock are trying for panfish or bottom feeders. Yellow perch hang out in the open water, rock bass like the walls and rocks, and sunfish are plentiful along the weed edges. They hit the worms the majority is using, but I do just as good on a Berkley Atomic Teaser (a 1-inch tube jig/trailer combo) tipped with a Berkley Power Wiggler. In addition, my rig draws an occasional crappie and pickerel.

Walleyes move into the dock just about any time of the year, but especially in spring, when they run Black Creek to spawn, and fall, when cooling water temperatures draw them close to shore. They find the security of the deep water to their liking and stay all day long.

What’s more, this time of year the walleyes are drawn to the lake shallows on the south end of the fishing access site, within easy reach of surf anglers casting stickbaits.

Cleveland Dock offers some surprises, too. When I was there last week, I saw a sturgeon, my first in the wild. I was fishing in the shallow water on the north end and the thing come out of the deep. It moved sluggishly in two feet of water, staying in plain sight for a good two minutes. Unfortunately, all I had was my point-and-shoot camera and it doesn’t have a polarized lens so the fish didn’t appear in the photograph.

Get there by taking I-81 exit 32, and driving east on NY 49 for a little over 12 miles.

Panfish are plentiful.

My Abu Garcia fishing tackle resting on decaying structures from Cleveland's days as a thriving port.